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Christian arrives and picks Ana up from work exactly on time, probably because he’s been waiting in the parking lot watching Ana for the past 4 hours, but whatever.
In the back of the car, Christian holds Ana’s hand, and Ana FREAKS THE FUCK OUT ABOUT THIS, because hand-holding is a big deal, and she’s already the mayor of BonerCity and it’s not even 2 minutes into their “date” yet.
They get into his helicopter, because, in case you’ve forgotten, Christian Grey is FUCKING LOADED AND OWNS A HELICOPTER but whatever, no big deal. Christian buckles Ana into her seat like she’s a child, and she continues to have boners and keeps trying to smell his hair.
“You’re secure, no escaping,” he whispers, his eyes are scorching.
For a serial killer, he’s not very subtle.
He then kisses Ana lightly, and she evolves into MegaBoner, and he then says “I like this harness,” because HE’S A GODDAMNED CREEP, JESUS.
“Do you know what you are doing?” I ask. He turns and smiles at me.
“I’ve been a fully qualified pilot for four years, Anastasia. You’re safe with me.” He gives me a wolfish grin. “Well, while we’re flying,” he adds and winks at me.
I suppose it is rather hard to murder someone while keeping control of a flying helicopter. I guess Ana is safe for now.
He’s concentrating hard, and he’s continually glancing at the various dials in front of him. I drink in his features from beneath my lashes. He has a beautiful profile. Straight nose, square jawed – I’d like to run my tongue along his jaw. He hasn’t shaved, and his stubble makes the prospect doubly tempting. Hmm…I’d like to feel how rough it is beneath my tongue, my fingers, against my face.
First of all, I don’t know about the rest of you, but kissing stubbly-faced gentlemen is not my cup of tea. It is very scratchy, and it always makes my lips/cheeks/whatever very red and is largely an uncomfortable experience.
Second of all…I don’t think a single guy I’ve dated would be down with me just straight-up LICKING HIS GODDAMNED FACE IN THE MIDDLE OF MAKING OUT.
IT’S A FACE. NOT A GODDAMNED POPSICLE YOU WEIRDO.
We learn that this is the first time Christian has brought a girl up with him into the helicopter, so apparently Ana is special (which we already knew because if she wasn’t special there wouldn’t be three goddamned books about her and her stupid sexlife but whatever).
And then we get like a billion pages of really boring bullshit about flying and how cool things look from up in the air, how original.
They land and Christian helps Ana unbuckle and get out of her seat.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You know that, don’t you?” His tone is so earnest, desperate even, his gray eyes impassioned. He takes me by surprise.
“I’d never do anything I didn’t want to do, Christian.” And as I say the words, I don’t quite feel their conviction because at this moment in time I’d probably do anything for this man seated beside me.
WOW THAT’S SAFE. I’M SO GLAD YOU TWO ARE ALMOST DEFINITELY GOING TO BE ENTERING INTO A RELATIONSHIP. THERE IS NO WAY THIS COULD GO WRONG AT ANY POINT.
They go in an elevator and go down a couple floors and into his penthouse/apartment/condo/whatever, which is FUCKING HUGE. And then we get a shitload of description of his place because it’s gargantuan and none of this description seems really important so I’m not going to recap it for you because it’s largely very boring.
They decide to share a glass of wine together, and Ana is all nervous, blah blah blah.
God, can we get to the good stuff already? I get it that you’re trying to build tension but all you’re doing is boring the hell out of me.
They share some flirty dialogue about the books Christian sent her and it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me because I’ve never read any Thomas Hardy, but okay.
Christian then leaves the room and comes back with a document.
“This is a nondisclosure agreement.” He shrugs and has the grace to look a little embarrassed. “My lawyer insists on it.” He hands it to me. I’m completely bemused.
Oh yes, this is definitely cause for bemusement. You definitely shouldn’t be RUNNING FOR THE HILLS RIGHT NOW.
“What does this agreement mean?”
“It means you cannot disclose anything about us. Anything, to anyone.”
Well, Christian, I wouldn’t really worry about that too much, since you’re going to fucking MURDER HER AND CUT HER BODY INTO TINY BITE-SIZED PIECES. Murder victims don’t really disclose a whole lot…at least not if you don’t find their bodies.
SHE DOESN’T EVEN READ THE DAMN THING
SHE JUST SIGNS IT
LIKE IT’S THE GODDAMNED ITUNES USER AGREEMENT.
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.
“Anastasia, you should always read anything you sign,” he admonishes me.
“Christian, what you fail to understand is that I wouldn’t talk about us to anyone, anyway. Even Kate. So it’s immaterial whether I sign an agreement or not. If it means so much to you, or your lawyer…whom you obviously talk to, then fine. I’ll sign.”
Ana…you are literally too stupid for him to murder you. He’d probably go to murder you and then it would be too easy and he’d just let you go because you wouldn’t be any fun to murder.
So I guess…congratulations?
“Does this mean you’re goign to make love to me tonight, Christian?” Holy shit. Did I just say that? His mouth drops open slightly, but he recovers quickly.
“No, Anastasia, it doesn’t. Firstly, I don’t make love. I fuck…hard. Secondly, there’s a lot more paperwork to do, and thirdly, you don’t yet know what you’re in for. You could still run for the hills. Come, I want to show you my playroom.
Except mostly just scared. Because if any guy was like “here sign this paper…alright time to show you my playroom.” I would instantly get the FUCK out of there. Jesus H Christ.
“You want to play on your Xbox?” I ask. He laughs, loudly.
“No, Anastasia, no Xbox, no Playstation. Come.”
Are you kidding me right now.
He opens the door and stands back to let me in. I gaze at him once more. I so want to know what’s in here. Taking a deep breath I walk in.
And it feels like I’ve time-traveled back to the sixteenth century and the Spanish Inquisition.
-End of Chapter Six-
Guess you’ll have to wait until Wednesday to find out what’s in his “playroom!”
Please, PLEASE let it be dead bodies.