This is the chapter where they have sex for the first time.  Yup, that one.

The epub, of this entire book so far, is 114 pages.  This chapter alone is 91 pages.  So I will have to split this probably into four or five sections to avoid a recap entry that is 20,000 words long.  Since I’m sharing my thoughts as I read through the first time, I don’t know yet how many parts this will be.


(Directory of recap links)

Grey heads to bed a couple hours later, and he acknowledges she’s comatose.  Again, this could kill her.  Who cares.  He wants her there, and he decides to sleep with her in the same bed.  I think we all know the feeling that comes with just the thought of someone we don’t give permission to crawling into bed with us.  That’s what’s happening to Ana right now.  The Duggars may try to hand-wave what happens when someone is asleep, but that doesn’t mean consent isn’t still needed.  Remember, Ana is in nothing but underwear right now, and she thought he was taking her home.  He should be parking his butt on the couch, at the least.  His decision to get in bed with her may be worse than his decision to strip her.

In an Edward Cullen move, he watches her sleep.  It’s creepy.  He watches her teeth through her lips, and when she murmurs something unintelligible and licks her lips…

It’s arousing, very arousing.

An unconscious woman is in his bed, and he’s aroused….

Morning dawns bright and early.  He complains about being in bed as late as 7:43am.

I have never slept with a woman. I’ve fucked many, but to wake up beside an alluring young woman is a new and stimulating experience. My cock agrees.

What is left to be said about how messed up it is that he’s so turned on by a nonconsenting woman in his bed?

He gets up, and we get filler about his email.  He does wonder how she’ll feel when she wakes up, but he is only referring to how hung over.

In the minibar I find a bottle of orange juice and empty it into a glass. She’s still asleep when I enter, her hair a riot of mahogany spread across her pillow, and the covers have slipped below her waist.

Her T-shirt has ridden up, exposing her belly and her navel. The sight stirs my body once more.
Stop standing here ogling the girl, for fuck’s sake, Grey.
I have to get out of here before I do something I’ll regret. Placing the glass on the bedside table, I duck into the bathroom, find two Advil in my travel kit, and deposit them beside the glass of orange juice.
With one last lingering look at Anastasia Steele—the first woman I’ve ever slept with—I head out for my run.

Where did that t-shirt suddenly come from?  Of course it’s his.  She didn’t have one.  Sleeping in someone else’s clothes, aside from borrowing from a friend or relative, is a fairly intimate thing.

Again, a reference to how horny he is, followed by what may be his only reasonable thought about not ogling her.  I think this will be the last time.  I’m also not impressed by him leaving before he does something he’ll regret.  He doesn’t regret anything.  I think we’re supposed to think it’s so sweet that he’s not raping her right now.  We all know how turned on he is.

As someone who goes into anaphylactic shock if I have Advil, I’m not impressed that he plunked down a couple pills.  Given the situation of how he told her he was taking her one place, and took her somewhere else, any drink and pills he gives her should be suspect.

It also sounds like he’s celebrating her being in his bed.

This is the book of many time-skips.  Two pages in, and we are on our third clunky cut.

He goes out running, gets home, sees the bag Taylor left, marvels that he got everything before 9am.  Problem?  NONE of the clothing shops are open before 9am, NONE, especially on a Sunday.  Absolutely no stores come to mind that are open before 10am on Sundays, though some aren’t open until 11am, and quite a few are closed altogether.  Nordstrom is the big clothing store downtown, and on Sundays..,let me use this nifty thing called Google that James should learn about…they’re not open until 11am.  Where on earth did Taylor find a new outfit up for Grey’s standards on a Sunday before 9am?  Nowhere, that’s where.

Time to wake the delectable Miss Steele; she’s slept enough.
Grabbing my workout towel and the shopping bag, I knock on the door and enter. To my delight, she’s sitting up in bed. The tablets are gone and so is the juice.
Good girl.
She pales as I saunter into the room.
Keep it casual, Grey. You don’t want to be charged with kidnapping.

What about that makes him so dangerous?  Hint: It’s not his controlling thoughts about how she’s slept enough or that she’s a “good girl” for consuming what he gave her.  It’s the last part.  He’s fully aware that he’s abducted her.  He just doesn’t care.

Knowing something is wrong and not caring is sociopathic.  Hold on to that link  I’m going to come back to it in a moment.

I’m going line by line on this next part.

“How did I get here?” she asks, as though she’s afraid of the answer.

She should be utterly terrified.

Reassure her, Grey.

If he had done what he said and taken her home, she wouldn’t need reassurance.  He’s also only concerned about reassuring her since sex is on the line.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and stick to the facts. “After you passed out, I didn’t want to risk the leather upholstery in my car, taking you all the way to your apartment. So I brought you here.”

That damned car is more important than his word.  He’s rich enough to get the car cleaned.  He also could have put her in a cab.  He had options that didn’t include abduction and actions that could arguably be seen as sexual assault.

“Did you put me to bed?”
“Yes.”
“Did I throw up again?”
“No.” Thank God.
“Did you undress me?”
“Yes.” Who else would have undressed you?

I think her questions are fair, and Grey obviously thinks she’s stupid.  Maybe someone else undressed her.  Maybe she wanted to confirm that the asshole beside her really did it.  ENTIRELY FAIR TO ASK.

She blushes, and at last she has some color in her cheeks. Perfect teeth bite down on her lip. I suppress a groan.

She’s just woken up, is scared, and he’s turned on.  I think the shocker at this point would be him being turned off.

We didn’t—?” she whispers, staring at her hands.
Christ, what kind of animal does she think I am?

She thinks you’re the monster you are!  How many times did we hear cock-reference and how it was wanting her?  How many times did you look at her nearly naked body, and want to plunge into her when she didn’t even consent to be there in the first place?

“Anastasia, you were comatose. Necrophilia is not my thing.” My tone is dry. “I like my women sentient and receptive.”

LIES!  FUCKING LIES!!  OH MY GOD, WHAT A LIAR!!  He’s been nothing BUT turned on by her while she was passed out!!

She sags with relief, which makes me wonder if this has happened to her before, that she’s passed out and woken up in a stranger’s bed and found out he’s fucked her without her consent.

So he knows consent exists.  He just chooses to ignore it.  Again, he’s dangerous for this.  It’s not like he doesn’t know right from wrong.  He just doesn’t care.

You didn’t have to track me down with whatever James Bond gadgetry you’re developing for the highest bidder.”
Whoa! Now she’s pissed. Why?
“First, the technology to track cell phones is available over the Internet.”
Well, the Deep Net…
“Second, my company does not invest or manufacture any kind of surveillance devices.”
My temper is fraying, but I’m on a roll.

She pissed because you used illegal technology to track her down after she refused to give you her location, lied to her about where you were taking her, and then she woke up almost naked in your bed!  She has EVERY right to be MORE THAN pissed, and YOU have NO right to be mad.  Your temper fraying shows how unstable you are when someone else reacts in a perfectly reasonable way to your illegal actions.

He broods and tells her there’s nothing good about him.  Too bad creeps like him pull that since a lot of women believe that, if it was true, then he wouldn’t be doing the god thing by telling them.  In a twisted way, it gets trust.

You need to eat. That’s why you were so ill. Honestly, it’s drinking rule number one.”
“Are you going to continue to scold me?”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
“I think so.”
“You’re lucky I’m just scolding you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday.

Drinking Rule #1 is to make sure you have a safe way home BEFORE you start drinking.  Also, eating won’t mean you won’t get drunk.  My bread pudding will get you drunk while you’re eating it.  I think I’m going to make some after this post is up.

Grey’s got no right to scold her, and then, well, does that last sentence sound ominous to you?

Well, if you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after the stunt you pulled yesterday.

Stunt?  You mean going out to celebrate with some friends after graduation?  Granted, Jose is a hose-bag who should be castrated without anesthesia.  Grey controlling who she’s allowed to see, when, and where, is a recurring theme in these books.  FFS, in Darker, he wanted to beat her for daring to leave the apartment with Kate, who she hadn’t seen in weeks, and a few guards, because he had forbidden her from leaving, even though her leaving is the only reason she wasn’t there when her former boss broke in, intent on raping or killing her.

“José just got out of line,” she says, dismissing my concern and tossing her tangled hair over her shoulder.
“Well, the next time he gets out of line, maybe someone should teach him some manners.”
“You’re quite the disciplinarian,” she snaps.
“Oh, Anastasia, you have no idea.”

Ana, Dear, RUN.  Also excusing Jose shows that she’s already primed to excuse assault.  Grey has a little fantasy…

An image of her shackled to my bench, peeled gingerroot inserted in her ass so she can’t clench her buttocks, comes to mind, followed by judicious use of a belt or strap. Yeah…That would teach her not to be so irresponsible. The thought is hugely appealing.

I’m sorry, I’m laughing right now.  This is so…so out there that it’s like we’re being punked.  A ginger root (it’s two words, not one) in the ass?  This one’s been all over Twitter.  I don’t know if you’ve ever seen ginger root, take a look.

ginger

That’s really what he wants to force into her?  Is this supposed to be a turn-on?  Because it’s not.  It’s hilaribad.  Hilariously bad.

Also, he’s aroused again.  He may as well tell us each time he inhales.

She’s staring at me wide-eyed and dazed, and it makes me uncomfortable. Can she read my mind? Or is she just looking at a pretty face.

He’s got no self-esteem issues….

She’s hard to resist, and I grant myself permission to touch her, tracing the line of her cheek with my thumb. Her breath catches in her throat as I stroke her soft bottom lip.

But did she give you any sort of permission?  Of course not, but that matters not to Grey.

In the bathroom I take a deep breath, strip, and climb into the shower. I’m half tempted to jerk off…

Uh huh.  Only half?

As the water cascades over my head I reflect on my latest interaction with the challenging Miss Steele. She’s still here, in my bed, so she cannot find me completely repulsive. I noticed the way her breath caught in her throat, and how her gaze followed me around the room.
Yeah. There’s hope.

Those are normal reactions to FEAR.

But would she make a good submissive?
It’s obvious she knows nothing of the lifestyle. She couldn’t even say “fuck” or “sex” or whatever bookish college students use as a euphemism for fucking these days. She’s quite the innocent.

NO, she would NOT, Grey.  Being a submissive means giving knowledgable consent.  Someone so innocent that she can’t even say the word SEX isn’t someone you should even be considering at this point.  She’s not someone you met on Kink.com, or who was introduced to you by someone you both know who knows you have similar interests.  She’s an innocent, ignorant young woman whose thinking is more in line with a shy pre-teen, and you’re thinking about whether or not it would be appropriate to tie her up and beat her after already barely not raping her.

He gets out of the shower, and Ana rushes into the privacy of the bathroom.

Hmm…she couldn’t get into the bathroom quick enough.
Away from me.

As she should.

Just call room service when you want the table cleared, sir,” Miss Dark Eyes says with a coquettish look, as if she’s offering more.
My chilly smile warns her off.

I used to work in room service, though for a different hotel.  If there was ever any indication at all that someone in room service was crushing on a guest, you weren’t allowed to go anywhere near that guest, and could lose your job.  We had bona fide celerities stay with us, and took this very seriously.

Grey gets a text from Elliot.  Kate’s worried about Ana and wants to know if she’s even alive.  As far as either of them know, Grey took Ana home, and was there with her.  But she’s not there.

Alive and kicking.😉

His reply is not funny.

After she gets out of the shower, he orders her to sit and eat, and then chastises her for her hair being damp because she might get sick.  Puh-leaze.  It’s May in Portland.  In this area, even in the winter, carrying an umbrella is more for show, and people don’t get sick and die.  Get over it, Grey.

She makes her discomfort with the books well-known, and he refuses to accept them back because he’s rich.  But he won’t tell her why he sent them.

“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”
Because I wanted to see you again, and here you are…

Excerpt From: E L James. “Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian.” iBooks.

Because he wanted something for himself.

With 76 pages left in this chapter alone, I’m calling an end to this entry’s recap.

I do want to get back to an earlier link, about sociopathy.  I’m going to play armchair shrink right now.

Psychology Today is a respected publication about psychological issues.

…the sociopath has an attention bottleneck that allows him to focus only on one activity or train of thought, to the exclusion of others.

As we see with Grey’s utter obsession with sex with Ana.

The tollowing 16 are used to define psychopathy and sociopathy.

  • Superficial charm and good intelligence
  • Absence of delusions and other signs of irrational thinking
  • Absence of nervousness or neurotic manifestations
  • Unreliability
  • Untruthfulness and insincerity
  • Lack of remorse and shame
  • Inadequately motivated antisocial behavior
  • Poor judgment and failure to learn by experience
  • Pathologic egocentricity and incapacity for love
  • General poverty in major affective reactions
  • Specific loss of insight
  • Unresponsiveness in general interpersonal relations
  • Fantastic and uninviting behavior with alcohol and sometimes without
  • Suicide threats rarely carried out
  • Sex life impersonal, trivial, and poorly integrated
  • Failure to follow any life plan

Grey exhibits all but the threat of suicide, and failure to follow any lie plan.  He’s not reliable, not trustworthy, lacks any and all shame about his bad actions…  All 14 of those that he fits are already apparent in just the first 13.5% of this book.  He also fits the description of a psychopath:

Psychopathy is among the most difficult disorders to spot. The psychopath can appear normal, even charming. Underneath, they lack conscience and empathy, making them manipulative, volatile and often (but by no means always) criminal. They are an object of popular fascination and clinical anguish: psychopathy is largely impervious to treatment.

This is Grey to a T, to the point that this may as well have been written about him.  He’s been seeing therapists, and his current therapist for a few years.  No progress has ever been made.  He is also an admitted criminal.  So all of that describes him.

Grey is dangerous, very, very dangerous….