Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 94

“Jet lag?” I ask.

“Is that what this is? I can’t sleep.”

“I have the universal panacea right here, just for you, baby.” Grinning, I nudge her hip with my erection. She giggles, rolling her eyes, and her teeth tease my earlobe as her hand skates down my body to my waiting cock.

When I stir an hour or so later, it’s early morning. I’ve slept well, and Ana is still asleep beside me. I let her rest and get up quietly; a quick run in my gym is what I need. While I’m on the treadmill with Four Tet blaring in my ears, I check the markets and watch the news. It’s going to be quite the adjustment to return to my routine. Ana and I have been in a blissful bubble for the last few weeks, but now I’m ready to go back to work. I’m excited. My wife and I are going to forge this new life together, and as of yet I have no idea what that will entail. Maybe we could travel; I could take Ana to see the Great Wall of China, the Pyramids—hell, all the Wonders of the World. I could ease up at the office—Ros has done a great job since I’ve been away—and Ana could stop working. After all, she won’t need the money.

But she loves her job, and she’s good at it.

Maybe she has great ambitions in publishing.

I shake my head; she would be safer if she stayed at home.

Damn. Don’t dwell on the negative, Grey.

Ana is in the shower when I enter the bathroom, and I cannot resist. I step in behind her. “Good morning. Let me scrub your back, Mrs. Grey.” She hands me the sponge and body wash with a distracted smile. Lathering up the sponge, I start soaping her neck. “Don’t forget we’re going to my parents’ for lunch. I hope you don’t mind. Kate will be there.” I kiss her ear.

“Hmm,” she murmurs, eyes closed.

“You okay?” I ask. “You’re quiet.”

“I’m good, Christian. Getting pruny.” She wiggles her fingers.

“I’ll

the shower cubicle, and grabs her robe on the way out. She seems happy enough, but I think my girl is preoccupied. Something’s up.

breakfast when I enter. She looks lovely wearing a black strappy top and the skirt she wore on our walk around Saint-Paul-de-Vence.

“Coffee?” she asks.

“Please.”

“Sourdough toast?”

“Preserves?”

“Apricot. Thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll bring breakfast to you.”

week’s footage from the CCTV cameras at Grey House, but there’s no news on the arsonist yet. Welch has been rolling out additional security at each of the

Ana pushes the door open using her back, and places coffee and toast on my desk.

“Thank you,

“You’re welcome, husband.” Her smile is thin. “I’m going to unpack.”

“You don’t have to, Gail can do it.”

“It’s okay. I want

“Hey.” I get up and catch her hand before she

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