Paging Dr. Steele: Chapter 11: Skyrockets and Firecrackers

I do not own Fifty Shades Trilogy, or the characters. They belong to E. LJames. I am only exercising my right to exploit, abuse, and mangle the characters to MY discretion in MY story in MY interpretation as a fan. I hope you—as a fellow fan—enjoy it, too.

Chapter 11—Skyrockets and Firecrackers

GREY

“That’s four… in one week, Ros. I’d say that’s definitely a record.” I raise my glass of champagne to my second in command.

“I’d say you were right.” She raises her glass and we clink. “So, this stuff comes so easy for you. We’ve taken over four companies in one week… what the hell can you do to top that?”

I don’t know if there’s anything that I can do to top that. This shit gives me such a rush. One in a week is the rush from hell. Four in a week is fucking Nirvana!

“So, now you’re sitting on top of the world, right?” Not quite, but I’m not going to tell her that.

“On top of the world,” I lie, as I raise my glass again.

I’ve sent Ros back to her office before I open the right-side drawer of my desk where I keep Ana’s file. I often look at the picture of this battered girl from more than 10 years ago to try to ascertain how someone could do this to another person. Our stories are similar in a lot of ways, but so different in others. I buzz Andrea to tell her to send Welch to my office again.

“Sir?” He has come in many times to find me gazing at this picture. I don’t think it surprises him anymore.

“Is there any way to find out how this happened?” I ask my head of security.

“There’s always a way, sir, but somebody has to want to talk. So far…”

… Nobody’s talking,” I finish his sentence. I hand him the picture. “I’ve been looking at this for days, and I can’t figure out what that is. Is that a burn?”

“Yes, sir, it is,” he says flatly.

“What kind of burn is that?” Who does shit like this? What could this child have possibly done to bring something like this upon herself?

“I’m not completely sure. I can say for sure that it was deliberate, but because it’s so… brutal… I can’t see the bruising, so I can’t tell what was used or how it was done.” Granted, I was a toddler when I was tortured, but I can bet that my scars don’t compare to the ones left by this injury.

“If you wanted to try to find out what happened and who did this, where would you start?” I don’t know why I have to know who did this and why they did it, but I have to know. Welch shakes his head and holds up the picture.

“I’d start with her,” he answers. I shake my head, too. That’s definitely not going to happen.

Grey,” I answer my ringing desk phone.

Sir, you have an unscheduled visitor in the lobby,” Taylor’s voice informs me.

“Get to the point, Taylor.” There must be something up because Taylor knows that no one gets in to see me without an appointment.

It’s Dr. Steele, sir.” Ana? Why is she here? This can’t be good.

“Send her up.” I end the call. “Would you like to see what she looks like now?” I say to Welch.

“Who? Her?” he asks as he hands me back the picture.

“Yes. Taylor is sending her to my office as we speak.” I put the picture back in my desk drawer.

“Why is she here?” Welch vocalizes my thoughts.

“I have no idea…”


STEELE

What the hell am I doing here?
You said no more running.
I know, but what the hell am I doing here? I don’t know what to say to this guy. I can’t even control him in group session. How am I going to handle him when he’s got a home court advantage?
Because the rules are different. This is personal. You said no more running.
I said no more running.
So go handle ya‘ business!

I take a deep breath and enter the revolving doors of the huge building labeled “Grey House.” I was right. I can see it from my office window. Since I don’t see a building directory, I go to the security desk.

Yes, ma’am, how can I help you?” Do all of his guards look like giant ex-CIA agents?

“Hi, I would like to see Mr. Christian Grey, please,” I say as officially as possible.

“Do you have an appointment, ma’am?”

“No, I don’t.” All of a sudden, he regards me like a rodent.

“I’m sorry, but you need an appointment to see Mr. Grey.”

“Of course, I do,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm. He can run amuck at will all over everyone else’s life, but you have to have an appointment to run all over his! “Can you at least call Mr. Grey and tell him that I’m here? He may want to see me.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he says a little more forcefully, “but you have to have an appointment to see Mr. Grey.” Keep it under control, Steele.

“And how do I get an appointment to see Mr. Grey?” I say, softly.

“You would have to contact his personal assistant or his receptionist.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I’m not allowed to divulge that information, ma’am.” Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell do I need to do—fill out a fucking application to see the guy?

“I’m not looking for government secrets here; I’m just trying to get an appointment to see Mr. Grey.” I can hear the elevator ring behind me and Mr. Rent-A-Cop gesture to someone in that direction. Great. I know what’s next. I put my hand on my forehead as I prepare for the corporate version of the “Walk of Shame” as I will soon be ceremoniously escorted off the premises. “Ma’am…” I hear to my left. I put my hand up to stop the spiel of the wall of man that I see in my peripheral standing next to me.

“Yeah, I know.” I obediently turn to leave.

“Dr. Steele?” What the…? I turn around to face the voice that called my name.

“Taylor?” I walk back over to him.

“May I ask why you’re here, ma’am?” They’re all polite if nothing else.

“I was trying to see Mr. Grey,” I say, sort of defeated.

“He doesn’t normally see people with…” he begins.

… I know, without an appointment.” I roll my eyes. Taylor chuckles.

“He’s a very busy man, Ms. Steele…” I throw a look at him. “My apologies… Dr. Steele.” he says softly, laughter in his voice.

“Well, that’s what I was trying to do. One more second and I thought he would arrest me for violation of the Patriot Act!” I snap toward Robo-Security-Man behind the desk.

“Let me see if he’s available.” Taylor reaches behind the desk and picks up the phone. I rub my forehead while he’s on the phone with whomever. What the hell am I going to say to this guy if I do get up there to see him? I discover that I’m about to find out as Taylor informs me that Mr. Grey will see me and leads me to the express elevator that will take me to his Tower in the Sky.

I’m led into Grey’s office by a petite blonde girl who announces my arrival before I enter. This has to be the biggest office I‘ve ever seen. Who needs this much room? I saw a conference room to the left just around the corner from the office, so I know he doesn’t conduct massive meetings in here. Waaaaaaay over there behind the desk, Grey stands when I enter the room. Another gentleman sitting across from him stands as well. Even from across the room, these gentlemen are commanding. Tall, handsome…


GREY

“Is someone after you?” she asks, matter-of-factly as she enters the double doors of my office.

“Someone’s always after me, but to what exactly are you referring?” I respond, questioningly.

“Because not only is it easier to get in to see the President than it is to see you, but also, you’re a tree,” she gestures to me, “surrounded by more trees!” She gestures to Welch. He and I smirk at each other.

“It just could be that you’re short, Dr. Steele,” I say with mirth.

“I am short, Mr. Grey, but everyone on your security staff is at least 6-2.” She responds flatly. That’s actually a requirement of being on my security staff, but how the hell does she know that?

“How do you know that?” I ask with genuine curiosity as Welch is making his way to the door.

“It’s a self-defense thing, Mr. Grey,” she says never taking her eyes off Welch. “I can tell how tall a person is by looking at them so that I can determine their weak points in relation to their height. For example, you’re 6-3, aren’t you, Mr. …?”

“Welch, and yes, I am. She’s good,” he says, throwing a knowing look at me.

“Oh! So, you’re Welch,” she adds. “Maybe you can tell me…” Okay, this is starting to irritate me… How the hell does she know of Welch?

“Tell you what, ma’am?” Welch asks.

“Why you’re digging around in my past,” she says impassively with just enough frost to make Welch straighten his tie and look to me for guidance. The plot thickens.

“That’ll be all, Welch. Thank you.” I dismiss him, clearly letting him off the hook. Welch beats a semi-hasty retreat from the office, leaving me to face Ana alone. This itsybitsy-teeny-weeny-ball-of-fire-mini-meanie damn near brought a grown man to his knees with a look. Hell hath no fury, I know, but damn, Welch. I’m never going to let you live that down. He couldn’t get out of here fast enough when Anastasia told him that she knew he had been digging into her past. He hadn’t cleared my office door 10 seconds before he texts back:

**She’s HOT**

I chuckle a bit and before I can put my blackberry away he texts again:

**And a little bit scary**

“Am I keeping you, Mr. Grey?” I look up at her as I put my blackberry away.

“As a matter of fact, you are, Dr. Steele. Or have you forgotten that you interrupted my work day?” I snap.

“Well, excuse me, but you interrupted my life!” she shoots back at me.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ms. Steele…” She certainly has a flair for it.

“Dramatic!? Dramatic!? You know everything about me now, Mr. Grey. Exactly where and when do you see my behavior as being dramatic? I’m pretty certain that, from what you now know about me, I’m far from dramatic!”

Well, I can’t tell right now, because you’re screaming like a banshee!” Her head starts shaking like she’s having conniptions. I seriously think for a moment that it’s about to pop off like a top of a soda bottle.

“Why in the hell are you digging around in my past? What could you possibly want to know about me? Why would you go into someone’s life like that stirring up old ghosts?” Who the hell did Welch tip off when he went looking into this girl’s past? This girl literally looks like she is about to go into seizures any second. She has got to calm down… she can’t have a stroke in my office.

“Ms. Steele, I’m going to have to insist that you calm the fuck down!” That didn’t make matters any better.

“Calm down? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?? Do you even care?? Do you just go around ruining peoples’ lives and making people miserable without a second thought? Just because you can? Has your own experience taught you nothing about human kindness?”

Human kindness? Is she kidding?


STEELE

I am seething. I want to rip off his fucking head and shit down his throat! You callous, pompous…

“It was attack as a form of defense! It seems to me that you have plans on ruining my life, Ms. Steele. That report that you plan on submitting to the court will almost surely result in revocation of my plea. And where does that leave me? In jail like some common criminal because some drunken fuck-off ran into my car!” he spits.

“What you did was illegal—and the court is trying to give you an opportunity to rectify the situation! But you’re so damn certain that you’re right that you won’t even bother to do what the court tells you to do! You don’t get special treatment! You do something wrong, you have to pay just like the rest of us!”

“For fuck’s sake! You sound just like that asshole judge. I don’t walk around the streets of Seattle randomly punching people! The guy hit my car—while I was sitting at a red light! A fucking red light! Then he tried to say it was my fault. I reacted! That’s all!” His hands are flailing in the air to emphasize his point.

“That’s no excuse, Grey. You may have felt justified in what you did, but it was still wrong. And now you choose to make my life a living hell because I was the poor sucker who got assigned to your case!” We’re screaming at each other.

“You could have made this all go away with the swipe of a pen!”

“And you could have avoided this whole thing by just controlling your fucking temper!”

He pauses for a beat then, as if a light has gone off in his head, he bellows “Wait a minute—what the fuck do you know about my experience!?”

My voice softens, but only by a fraction. “I know they you weren’t always Christian Trevelyan Grey. I know that you were adopted and you were once a scared little boy named Christian Fields.”

The look that he gave me would strike fear into a gladiator! He slams his fists down on his desk and comes around it, charging at me. He stops not an inch from my face. His voice is loud and deep when he roars:

“How the FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT THAT!?”

Without missing a beat—my voice a little squeaky, but just as loud—I scream:

“THE SAME WAY YOU KNOW ABOUT ANASTASIA LAMBERT!”

It’s a Mexican Standoff. He’s staring me down and I’m giving it right back. I’m afraid. I’ll admit it—I’m scared shitless! My heart is beating so fast and hard that it feels like it’s going to burst out of my chest any minute. I’m breathing heavily looking up at him, glaring into his steel-gray eyes. I feel those adrenaline tears rearing up again, butrefuse to let them fall.

I peeled back a layer he wasn’t willing to give me, and now he’s standing here in my presence, demanding… what? What is he demanding of me that I don’t have a right to demand from him? Yes, I invaded his privacy, but he invaded mine, too. As far as he’s concerned, I was intruding while he was justified. Now what are you going to do about it, Mr. Grey?

I don’t have to wait long for my answer.

He takes my face in his hands and smashes his lips against mine. I don’t have a chance to think… to protest.

What the… what the hell is he doing?
I know, right?

As he moves to my face just before the kiss, my hands came up in defense, so now my arms are smashed between us and I can’t move. My eyes are closed tight and I’m stunned. Wha… wha….?

And then I feel it.

The pull. The electricity. It’s so much stronger than I am. I feel my body relax against his, even though I’m nearly fighting for breath. He must have felt it too, because his tongue is taunting my lips, asking for entry—and before I know it, I grant it. His tongue slips between my lips, his left hand into my hair, and his right hand flat against my upper back pressing me into him.

Oh.
My.
God!

He adjusts my head to grant him purchase to my mouth and he is devouring me—his tongue massaging my tongue, his lips caressing my lips. He tastes delicious and his smell… oh God, his smell. Somebody help me!

I got nothing…
Of course, you don’t.

He’s awakening the beast. Fire is shooting from my mouth, my nose, my hair, and my back, down my legs to my feet and back up to my core. If he were not holding me up so tightly, I would be in a mound on the floor right now. I feel everything tingling, burning. I’m completely at his mercy. I couldn’t move away if I wanted to. But in a moment of clarity, he releases me and steps away. I stumble backwards and land on the door, panting heavily.

He’s leaning against his desk with his back to me, running his hands through his hair and breathing just as heavily as I am. I shake my head as if I’m going to wake from this dream, but I’m not. This really happened, and I don’t know what to do. I’m staring at his back. He’s heaving heavily and trying to catch his breath. He almost sounds like he’s growling—his broad shoulders draped beautifully in a black suit jacket, rising and falling, like any second he’s going to turn around, throw me on the floor and ravage me. My clit is throbbing feverishly at the thought and all of a sudden, I feel like a caged animal.

I have to get out of here!

I fumble with the door behind me and just as I get it open, he turns around. I bolt out of the office just as I hear him call my name.

“Ana!”

I’m running for the elevator. I’m nothing but emotional, confused, weak, horny mush and at this moment, I would do anything he asked of me. I have to get away from him now. I push the button for the elevator and luckily, it’s right there waiting for me. I dash inside and push the button for the lobby, afraid to look up and see him following me.

The express elevator moves almost at the speed of light, thank God. I’m whimpering the entire time, trying to drag in precious oxygen. I stumble out of the elevator into the lobby and walk as fast as my feet can take me towards the front door, still panting. I get almost past the front desk when someone calls my name.

“Dr. Steele…?”

I gasp and break into a run, burst out the front doors and haul ass to my car. I don’t know why I’m running. All I know is that I have to get the fuck out of here! As I approach my car, I hit the alarm and the automatic starter so that I can quickly facilitate my escape. I don’t think I breathed once, until I cleared the underground garage and could no longer see “Grey House” in my rearview mirror.

I slam the door to my apartment and drop everything in my hands right there on the floor. Nobody has made me feel that way since Edward. Hell, even Edward didn’t make me feel that way. I’m leaning against the door and I can’t catch my breath. I bring my hands up to my neck and feel the thin sheen of sweat there that always seems to accompany my arousal.

I can still feel his lips.

I run my hands down my body to my breasts and my nipples are tender and taut—about to burst out of my blouse.

I am on FIRE!

I lift my skirt and close my eyes. His tongue… I can feel his tongue invading my mouth, and the fire in my loins as my hand searches through my lace panties and finds my clitoris.

Aahh.” He has me smashed against his body, licking and tasting me, sucking the breath from me with his tortuous technique. He’s hungry and ravenous, and I revel in his desire.

“Ah… ah…” His fingers replace mine, and he’s stroking feverishly, relentlessly as his tongue explores my mouth and his free hand holds my head in place. I’m at his mercy. His presence captivates me, his demeanor ensnares me, his eyes, his voice and oh God… that kiss!

“Ah… ah… aahh…” My free hand journeys up to my breast and brushes against my sensitive nipple aching to be freed from its prison… but it’s too late. The shiver from the contact, the massage of my clitoris, and the memory of that kiss…

“Oh... God… aaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!” And I explode. I succumb to my orgasm as it ripples through my body, my clit throbbing continuously. I slide to the floor against the door to ride it out… it won’t stop.

“Oh… God… oh… God… oh… God…” I have to stop with my stimulation as it’s becoming slightly painful, but the sensation continues for quite some time after.

“Fuck! Holy shit!” I sit on the floor in my post-orgasmic state, trying to catch my breath, and still remembering that kiss.


GREY

Shit! This fucking woman is standing so close to me. I can smell her—she smells like fear… and anger… and pure primal unmitigated lust. I am furious! And with every breath I take she’s invading my nostrils. This fucking, infuriating, unreasonable, desirable, irresistible, sexy woman! I have to have her… now!

Her lips are like ripe strawberries—delicious, juicy. Open your mouth, baby. That’s it. Oh, yes! Hot and soft and wet. Fuck, I can’t get enough. I have to hold her… closer. She’s electric. Her body is so soft; she feels so good. She’s melting into me… we fit together… her smell… her touch… her taste…

Snap out of it, Grey!

Fuck! The spell is broken just as quickly as it was cast. Step away from her, Grey. You’re fucking everything up! Breathe, Man, breathe. Shit! Why the fuck did I just do that? Why the hell does this woman seem to make me lose my good sense when I’m around her? I run my hand through my hair and vaguely remember that I’m not alone in the room. Damn! What the fuck must she be thinking? I compose myself to turn around and face the music, but she’s not there anymore.

“Ana!” I step out of my office to see Andrea and Olivia looking at me confused. “Where is she?” I bark.

“In the elevator, sir,” Andrea answers.

I pick up the phone to call Taylor.

“Sir?”

“Ms. Steele is in the express elevator. Stop her! Don’t let her leave!”

“How do you expect me to detain her, sir?’

“Just catch her and tell her to wait, please…” I hear him call her name, and I can hear her shoes clicking across the lobby floor at high speed. Shit! She’s running! “Taylor!” I yell.

“Sir!” he yells back. I forgot about the earpiece in his ear. I can tell by the dissipating clicks that she’s already out of the building. I sigh heavily.

“Have Reynolds follow her,” I say more quietly. “She drives a pearl blue Chrysler 300.”

“I remember, sir. For how long?”

“Until further notice. Light surveillance. I want reports every four hours and as needed. Tell him to use whomever he needs.”

“Yes, sir.”

I go back into my office and lean on my desk, resisting the urge to clear it off in an angry frenzy. What is this woman doing to me? I had the perfect opportunity to sit her down and talk to her, to apologize for my behavior and try to make things right so that she wouldn’t file that fucking report… and what do I do?

I insult her, verbally attack her, accost her, and then send her running from my office in some sort of frenzy. Boy, Grey, when you fuck up, you fuck up BIG!

*-*

“Where did she go?” I ask Taylor in the SUV later that evening.

“Back to her apartment, sir. Reynolds says she hasn’t left all afternoon.” I run my hands through my hair. I watch the scenery go pass as we’re on our way to Bellevue. Women don’t do this to me. I do this to women. How the hell does she have this much control over me? Yes, she’s visually pleasing, but as a person, she’s a fucking pill!

She thaws out very nicely when you kiss her, though.

I can’t think of this woman this way! I fucking can’t. I have to find a way to change her mind about filing that report to the court. I can’t let her do it. I have to be able to convince her somehow.

Without kissing her.

Mia bolts to my arms as soon as I’m out of the car. “Dad said you might be here, but I didn’t believe him!”

“Hi, Mia.” I hold my little sister. She’s the only one that really hugs me like this.

“Mom has a few of her friends in the parlor, so we’re all out on the patio waiting for them to leave.” I see a few cars in front of the house as I walk in, but I don’t pay much attention to them.

“Christian,” Carrick greets as I enter the kitchen with Mia.

“Dad.” We shake hands. “How’s the case going?”

“As well as can be expected.” He takes a drink of his wine. “Yours?” I shoot a look at him. I really don’t want to talk about this in front of Mia, but she doesn’t seem to be able to take a hint as she stands there looking at me expecting.

“Not so much,” I say as I pour myself a glass of Sancerre.

“Oh?” Carrick wants more answers and Mia’s still standing there looking down my throat. There’s no way I’m telling him about the kiss, or about the background check, until they’re possibly cuffing me and hauling me off to jail.

“Session was cancelled yesterday, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to the facilitator.”

“I see,” Carrick responds, enigmatically. “Do you have any idea why it was cancelled?”

“No,” I answer, “and the director of the place was being a real asshole when I tried to find out.”

“Christian!” Mia scolds me for my language.

“Little sister,” I say, turning to Mia, “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m having a conversation with Dad where the words are strategically placed such that if you don’t know who we’re talking about, you don’t know what we’re talking about. But since you still can’t seem to be able to take the hint, pretty soon I’m going to start a very graphic discussion about big, hairy, sweaty testicles and any other topic of conversation that may induce discomfort!” Carrick is stifling a laugh while Mia regards me wide-eyed and open mouthed.

“How vulgar! All you had to do was say so!” Mia snaps, affronted.

“I just did… and you’re still here. You’re my favorite person. Please leave.” I kiss her on the forehead to lighten the blow. She frowns at me and marches out of the kitchen and onto the patio.

“I think something was wrong with the doctor, Dad. I don’t know if she was sick or…”

… Or trying to avoid you.” He finishes my thought. I sigh.

“If she’s trying to avoid me, I still get credit for my sessions, but I don’t get a chance to talk to her before she can submit the paperwork.”

“You’ve got a bigger problem than that, son. There is a lot being suggested by the fact that she would be willing to just wait this out.”

“But if she does wait it out, won’t the same rules apply… that she has only seen me for three sessions?” I ask, desperate.

“Yes, but by the time they sort that out, the damage could already be done.” I know what he’s referring to. One day of Christian Grey in jail could be the destruction of all my credibility in the business world.

“I suggest that you wait until Monday and see if she shows up for the group session. If she doesn’t, you can petition the court on Tuesday to be reassigned to another group session on the basis that this facilitator is unexplainably unavailable, and the center can’t supply you with another facilitator. This way, even if she does submit the documentation that she has completed, the credibility of the report is questioned because she has missed two of the sessions that should have been used for evaluation. Also, your request would trump hers in court because you filed yours first.”

“Well, can’t I file a request to be reassigned now?” That would solve my entire Anastasia Steele problem altogether.

“No reasonable cause.” Shit! It was worth a try.

“So… now we wait,” I sigh.

“Now we wait,” Carrick confirms.

“Yo, Little Bro!” Elliot comes bursting into the kitchen in usual Elliot fashion.

“Hey, Elliot,” I sip my Sancerre.

“Yo… Dude… cheer down,” he says sarcastically.

“Where’ve you been hiding?” I ask.

“I was in the parlor with the ladies and their daughters,” he proclaims. “I always see if there’s any fresh meat when Mom has one of these fundraiser meetings.”

“And…?” Not that I’m really interested, Carrick even less so as he nods to both of us and goes to the patio with Mia.

“There’s some potential in the room. Hell, most often, they come hoping to get to you.” Oh, yes, the mothers trying to marry off their daughters and the desperate women trying to bag a billionaire. How exciting.

Well, why did you leave all of that ‘potential’ behind?” I inquire.

“Because ‘Her Royal Creepiness’ showed up,” Elliot says as he takes a beer from the refrigerator and I almost spray my wine.

“Who the hell is ‘Her Royal Creepiness?'” I must know who warranted this name.

“Mom’s friend, you know, the Princess of Darkness with the fake boobs, endless plastic surgery, and platinum blonde hair.” I’d know that description anywhere.

“Elena Lincoln.”

“Yeah, her!” Elliot actually got a visible chill talking about Elena, which piques my curiosity.

“Why do you call her that?” I ask Elliot.

“What, Princess of Darkness?” No, I figured that one out on my own.

“No, ‘Her Royal Creepiness.'”

Just as Elliot is about to divulge the origins of his nickname for Elena, the parlor door opens and drones of older women and a few younger ones come flooding out—and there we stand, like Thanksgiving turkeys ready to be plucked. While I’m contemplating the nearest escape route, Elliot sort of throws me to the wolves like a sacrificial lamb while he makes a mad dash to the dining room. He shouldn’t be scoping them anyway, since he’s actually off the market. Sure enough, they descend upon me like I’m the last sale item on the discount rack. I’m only too happy when Elena makes her way through the crowd to me.

“Christian, dear, can I steal you away for just a moment?”

“Of course, Elena. Excuse me, Ladies.” Elena and I walk out to the den and I close the door. “God, I hate when you all get together. I wish Mom had told me; I would have stayed home.” I take a sip of my wine before sitting on the sofa.”

“In that case, I’m glad she didn’t tell you.” Elena sits next to me. “You’re avoiding me, Christian.”

“I’m not avoiding you, Elena. I’m running a business. I may not give you a play by play of everything, but I sealed four acquisitions this week. That shit doesn’t happen by itself.”

Well, excuse me!” she snaps. “I jump through hoops to get Ms. Ellison to you since you were chomping at the bit, and you act like you’re too busy to even consider her now.” I shoot a look of death at her.

“Elena! I will not discuss this with you in my parents’ home. Have you completely lost it?” I say through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry,” she says, chastised. “You just seemed so… anxious, and now…”

“I’m going to repeat that I am not going to discuss this with you in my parents’ home!” I snap at her again. At that moment, one of the nosy ladies knock on the door to the den.

“Excuse me,” she says insincerely. “I was just coming to say ‘goodbye’ to Christian.”

“Goodbye. Mrs. Bell,” I say politely.

“I was wondering,” she begins as she invites herself into the den, “if you would be interested in joining us for dinner on Sunday. You haven’t been by in so long and my daughter Madeline will be there.” Just what I need—another matchmaking mother.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Bell, but I’ll have to decline your kind invitation.” The disappointment is written all over her face while Elena is stifling a laugh.

“Oh, well, maybe I could just give you her number…” She doesn’t quit, does she? Should I just say I don’t want to date your daughter? What the hell?

“No, thank you, Mrs. Bell. If you ladies will excuse me…” Now it’s my turn to beat a hasty retreat to the dining room. Elliot is still hiding out in there waiting for the crowd to disperse.

“Thanks for your help, big brother,” I say, sarcastically.

“Hey, you snooze, you lose. And I had already done my time with that group,” he says, finishing his beer. “What were you doing in the den with the Lincoln Lady?”

“We’re in business together. I‘m the financial backer for her Esclava Salon chain.” I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that we were discussing a sub.

“Why did you do that?” he questions.

“Because she lent me the money to start my business after I dropped out of Harvard.” I respond. “Oh, yeah… ‘Her Royal Creepiness?'” Elliot shakes his head.

“Dude, she came on to me when I was 14.” What the fuck?

“Elliot, are you sure? That’s a pretty heavy accusation.” Elliot put his empty beer bottle on the dining room table.

“Look, all I know is that every time she came around, she kept touching me. She was always talking about how strong my back muscles could be. She was always touching my face and my arms and looking at me funny. Now at 14, I didn’t know what that funny look was. By 16, I was getting a pretty good idea. At 32, I can look back in hindsight and tell you that chick wanted to fuck me!” I’m completely floored. Why would Elena proposition Elliot? It makes absolutely no sense. Elliot was perfectly normal, not completely fucked up like me. He didn’t have any problems… did he?”

“What did she say to you?” I question.

“What do you mean ‘what did she say?’ Do you mean did she ask me to fuck her? No.”

“Well, what did she say to make you think she wanted you to fuck her?” He had to be mistaken.

“I don’t remember verbatim, man. It was a long time ago. Why are you so damn curious?”

“Because I‘m in business with this woman!” I answer to throw him off the scent, which is the truth, but the biggest part of me wants to know if she really came on to my brother.

“I don’t remember what she said, but she touched me a lot… I mean a lot, Bro. And she gave me the creeps. I’m surprised you never heard my nicknames for her before now, but whenever she’s around, I make it my business not to be.” As if she was summoned, Elena walked into the back entrance of the dining room from the kitchen. “And that’s my cue,” Elliot says as he walks out of the front end of the dining room into the great room.

“Well, what was that all about?” Elena says, clearly affronted.

“My brother is uncomfortable around you. Do you have any idea why?” Noticing that some of the color has left Elena’s face, I’m starting to wonder if there’s any truth to what Elliot is claiming.

“Why would he have reason to be uncomfortable around me?” she laughs nervously. Oh, there’s definitely a story here.

“He seems to think that you may have shown an unhealthy interest in him when he was younger.” Elena’s expression falls.

“What?” she says, her voice cracking. “What gave him that idea?” She’s almost in full-blown panic mode now.

“I’m not completely sure, but he’s a grown man now, and still very uncomfortable around you,” I answer flatly.

“Well,” she says, relaxing a bit, “some men are intimidated by strong women.” She straightens her back. “Besides, clearly he must have been mistaken. I mean, that was so many years ago, there’s no telling what was going through the mind of a 14-year-old boy.” She looks nervously at her watch. “I really have to be going now, but I’ll need an answer from you about our little situation pretty soon, so if you could… look into that please and let me know.” And with her usual Hollywood air kisses, she’s gone…

… Having done nothing to quell my suspicion, especially since I never mentioned to her that Elliot indicated that he was 14 at the time.

I can’t quite define this feeling that I have about Elena possibly making a pass at my big brother.

Jealousy? No—I really don’t care about that.
Repulsed? Maybe a little. I’ve shared a lot of things with Elliot in the past, but women are definitely not one of them.
Why would I be feeling anything? I certainly don’t care who she fucks. I knew she was married when we started, so we certainly weren’t exclusive.
Maybe a little protective of my brother? I don’t know… maybe.

I need to talk to Flynn about this one. I just can’t place what it is that I am feeling and it’s going to bug the fuck out of me until I do.


STEELE

I’ve washed my hair thoroughly and now, I’m sitting in my bathtub up to my neck in bubbles. My sound system is playing one of my favorite songs and I can only think about him as I sing along.

I was just a stand-in, someone love abandoned
Not the leading man, but my heart yelled “Action.”
What does “fall in love” mean?
We rehearsed a love scene
Unaware of this till we tried The Kiss and

It used to make me think of Edward. Now, it’s him. I can smell his scent. It’s been in my nose since I left his office and it won’t go away. It’s like I had a secret date all afternoon. Even my bath soap doesn’t wash it away. I don’t ever remember standing that close to him until today. Well, of course I wouldn’t have, right?

Now… now you’re in my dreams
Now… now you’re in my dreams
When I dream, when I dream, in my dream, it’s you
Now… now you’re in my dreams

His gray eyes are staring at me hungrily, his breath on my neck. His lips are just a hair away from mine… taunting me. Oh, my God, he’s so hot. I feel the flame growing again…

Love was such a mystery, Love was ancient history
Pleasure chased with pain, till you whispered your name
In the soundstage moonlight, we could not say goodnight,
Unaccustomed to happiness so new and

I’m running my hands across my flat stomach, imagining it’s his hand, his arm holding me close to him…
Careful, Ana, or you’ll end up wiggling your bean again.
I ignore her. It’s my bean and I’ll wiggle it if I want. I reach down to the magic spot as Michael Franks continues to serenade my fantasy.

Now… now you’re in my dreams
Now… now you’re in my dreams
When I dream, when I dream, in my dream, it’s you
Now… now you’re in my dreams

The water wraps me in warmth as my hand works my clitoris into a sensual frenzy.

Now the close-up me and you and every old cliché rings true
The Samba begins, fate to the winds

I sink further into the water, succumbing to the pleasure once again, for the second time this evening.

First, it smolders then it burns, you
Pass the point of no return, do
Lovers stay in love by learning
How to leave the world at the door and live
Live inside their dreams?

“Christian….”

Now… now you’re in my dreams
Now… now you’re in my dreams
When I dream, when I dream, in my dream, it’s you
Now… now you’re in my dreams
Now… now you’re in my dreams
When I dream, when I dream, in my dream, it’s you
Now… now you’re in my dreams
Now… now you’re in my dreams
When I dream, when I dream, in my dream, it’s you…


GREY

I’m at my piano again. It’s 3am and I was awakened by the sound of stilettos running away from me on marble floors…

I’ve played this song three times and it brings me no comfort. I decide to change up and play a Michael Bublé tune that fits the situation perfectly.

She is so beautiful when she’s angry… and hot! I bet angry sex would be a fucking mind trip with her!

I don’t know why I want this woman so badly—why do I see her face every single time I close my eyes.

She’s infuriating, and mouthy, and defiant—everything I can’t stand in a woman…

… And I can’t stop thinking about her.

She holds my life in her hands… literally, right now, she has the power to throw me in jail and bring me to ruin…

… And she’s all I can think about.

When I‘m around her, everything goes haywire. I can be in complete control when I walk into a room with her, and by the time I leave, I’m totally worthless.

She sees past all my bullshit. Everything I’ve built up to protect myself—all the facades; all of the defense mechanisms—it’s like glass to her.

Nobody has ever spoken to me the way that she speaks to me. There’s absolutely no way there can ever be anything between us.

We’re from two completely different plains, different universes, different dimensions…

… And she’s all I ever think about—I can’t get her out of my mind.

I have the perfect sub—the perfect sub—just aching to sign on the dotted line…

… but I don’t want her.

I want Anastasia.

What the fuck am I going to do?


A/N:

Ana’s bathtub song is Michael Franks—Now You’re In My Dreams

Christian’s piano song is Michael Bublé —Always On My Mind

What do you think will arise from Eliot’s revelation? Anything? Nothing?

Pictures of places, cars, fashion, etc., can be found at http://www.pinterest.com/ladeeceo/paging-dr-steele/

You can join my mailing list on the “Contact Me” page. Just indicate in the message that you would like to join the mailing list.

Love and Handcuffs!
Lynn x

4 thoughts on “Paging Dr. Steele: Chapter 11: Skyrockets and Firecrackers

  1. Leomy says:

    I can’t help myself. I just had to read it again. 4th time reading the story. Every time I read it, it feels like the 1st time reading it. Really love your work

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