No. I can stop using these f**kers."
"Aptly named." I giggle.
He smirks at me as he rolls on the condom. "Are you giggling, Miss Steele?"
"No." I try and fail to straighten my face.
"Now is not the time for giggling." He shakes his head in admonishment and his voice is low, stern, but his expression - holy cow - is glacial and volcanic at once.
My breath catches in my throat. "I thought you liked it when I giggle," I whisper hoarsely, gazing into the dark depths of his stormy eyes.
"Not now. There's a time and a place for giggling. This is neither. I need to stop you, and I think I know how," he says ominously, and his body covers mine.
"What would you like for breakfast, Ana?"
"I'll just have some granola. Thank you, Mrs. Jones."
I flush as I take my place at the breakfast bar beside Christian. The last time I set eyes on the very prim and proper Mrs. Jones, I was being unceremoniously dragged into the bedroom over Christian's shoulder.
"You look lovely," Christian says softly. I'm wearing my gray pencil skirt and gray silk blouse again.
"So do you." I smile shyly at him. He's wearing a pale blue shirt and jeans, and he looks cool and fresh and perfect, as always.
"We should buy you some more skirts," he says matter-of-factly. "In fact - I'd love to take you shopping."
Hmm - shopping. I hate shopping. But with Christian, maybe it won't be so bad. I decide on distraction as the best form of defense.
"I wonder what will happen at work today?"
"They'll have to replace the sleazeball." Christian frowns, scowling as if he's just stepped in something extraordinarily unpleasant.
"I hope they take on a woman as my new boss."
"Why?