It's safe to say that its taken me a while to make the leap and publish something here. I beta for a few writers and have been co-writing a couple stories so I'm not that much of a newbie. I'm a FSOG addict who has way too many stories on alert but this idea has been taunting me for a few days so I'm giving it a shot. I don't know how long it will be but I do have a plan. Please know that I won't be updating daily or even every few days. I work full time and go to school full time so that comes first. I realize this story might not be for everyone but its mine and I do hope that you enjoy it. There is a lot of me in this Ana. Some of things that happen to her are part of me. She has a potty mouth and is quite sarcastic so if you can't handle a lot of cursing this might not be for you. I haven't decided about the BDSM, so you'll have to wait and see. No one's going to cheat so don't worry about that.

Thanks Lanieloveu for reading this over and encouraging me to post it. If you can get through my drivel, there's is a little bit more A/N at the end so please read it because it will be the only time I post it.

Chapter 1

Have you ever sat reflecting on your day and realize it was like an episode of The Twilight Zone? No, maybe you haven't. Well, I am here to tell you I had that kind of day today and it was plain weird. I'm not even sure weird covers it. What began as an ordinary day quickly took a right turn at crazy town and the bus did not slow down to let me off. Maybe I should start at the beginning. I won't bore you with inconsequential poppycock, but you need some back story to understand what I'm trying to tell you.

Last month, my best friend Kate, my sister Harper and me, I'm Anastasia or just Ana, graduated from college. Both of our families were in attendance including my older brother, Hunter. He's an officer in the Marines and stationed at Twentynine Palms. We also have sister who is three years older, Tanner. She lives in LA and is a marine biologist. I have no clue what she does other than go out on big boats all the time researching for something. Kate has a little sister, Reagan, who is in high school still and an older brother, Ethan. He managed to make it in time flying in from his base at MCAS Miramar. He's a fighter pilot. Like Top Gun, shirtless and playing volleyball, kind of fighter pilot. Our brothers are best friends and enlisted at the same time and our families have been thick as thieves since before I was born.

After Kate gave her well-prepared valedictorian speech, some well-dressed woman from some hoity-toity company located in Seattle was our guest speaker. It was a good speech, I admit. She offered just the right amount of confidence mixed with humor and sincerity. Honestly, I didn't pay that close of attention to the blah blah blah coming from her mouth, I wanted my damn diploma so I could get the fuck on with my life. After the obligatory family dinner, the girls, our siblings, and I planned to celebrate big before moving back home this weekend. Hunter decided to hang back with the old folks to keep them company. I can't imagine why he'd do that since there's going to be girls everywhere. It's right up his alley. My brother has been known to sow a few wild oats in his time. He's never had a steady girlfriend mostly because he's been in the military since he was 18. Hello…officer and a gentleman anyone? I do know he's not living a celibate life.

We drive the short distance to the apartment we shared to change out of our pretty dresses that our mothers were insistent we wear. Why anyone willingly wears a dress is beyond me. I'm a jean, t-shirt and flip flop kind of girl. Casual and comfortable, that's me. Kate is comfortable in dresses and is always harping on me. If I hear her say one more time, "Ana, show a little leg," "Ana, show a little cleavage. That God-given 38D rack of yours could turn a priest into a sinner, Ana…Ana…Ana," my head just might blow off. It must be quite daunting worrying so much about my legs, boobs, and choice of attire. I admit, she has great style and can throw shit together like no one's business, but I'll take a pair of worn Levi's or yoga pants any day of the week. My sister, Harper – did I mention she is my twin…No? Well, she is…my scary identical, four-minute younger twin. Our parents still haven't figured us out, though. It's only been twenty-one years, so maybe they need another twenty-one to really be able to tell us apart. Back to what I was saying, Harper is the epitome of a girly girl and wears dresses every god damn day. How she managed to walk across campus on a daily basis for four years, in those towering Louboutin's and Jimmy Choos is beyond me. She's not the clumsy one. Nope that'd be me. Remind me to come back to that.

After we were satisfied with our choices of evening wear, we set out for the most popular bar in town. We knew it would be packed, but that was an understatement. Luckily, in addition to the inside bar, this place has a big patio with umbrellas, heaters and misters too. We grabbed our first round of drinks and headed for "our" table on the patio. Good thing it was a warm night or we'd be like stinking like sardines packed into a tin hermetically sealed if we had to stay inside. Did I mention that I'm claustrophobic? No? Trust me, I am, and it is not pretty when I have one of my freak outs. Don't get me started on elevators either.

You want to know what happened? Okay, I'll tell you about it really fast.

Last year, our family was on cruise and Harper, and I were trying to go from the very top deck, you know where all the sun, fun, and hot buns can be found, back to our tiny ass room. I'm not bitching because we did have a balcony. Our room was like seven levels down, and I was not really equipped for taking the stairs. Ding! The elevator finally arrives, and when we get in, there's no one. Thank you, Jesus. It's just a nice big empty space for Harper and me. Ahhh…. yes, space is a good thing. Well, that fucking dream was short lived. After the first two stops, about fifty people were cramming their asses in my god damn elevator and I panicked. Not just a little panic, I mean, a LOT of panic. I couldn't breathe, I was shaking and screaming for my sister as if I was being brutally attacked. If I could have become one with the door I mostly certain would have. Next stop, please! The elevator finally stopped, and I fell out. Actually, I think I was pushed out; but who could blame you, right? Some crazy chick in a bikini, all liquored up, in the middle of a freak out in a small, confined space; Yeah, I probably would have pushed her sorry ass out too.

Remember I mentioned before that I'm clumsy? Understatement of the century. Turns out mixing alcohol, panic attacks and falling out of an elevator in front of a staircase doesn't bode well for someone like me. I didn't actually fall ass over end all the way down a flight of stairs. No, the wall in front of me was kind enough to put a big stop to that. My sister did manage to step out of the elevator. Unlike me, she wasn't pushed out like the Gerber baby through a straw hole. After she untangled my limbs from the railing and helped me up, I'll be damned if we didn't end up having to take the fucking stairs after all. After a trip to the ship's infirmary, I only managed to give myself a mild concussion this time. My mother told me I had to take the stairs the rest of our trip, and I was not allowed to do that unattended either. I have plenty of other titillating stories of my clumsiness but I will share those when we know each other better.

Back to drinking. Can I just preface by saying that I'm not ditsy or a dumb girl? I graduated Summa Cum Laude thank you very much. I do like to have fun but I'm very much a nerd and pretty shy. Here's a little secret for you…I'm the younger, less hairy, female version of the 40-year old virgin. Yep, Ana Steele has yet to 'do it'. I haven't dated all that much but I know the right guy is out there for me. Maybe when we get back to Seattle I will find my prince charming. Ha! Right, what the fuck am I talking about. I actually have to be able to speak to a man first, let alone become friendly with the baby maker, to know if he's prince charming. It could happen. Right? We'll see. I've got a job lined up so maybe I'll meet him at work.

Sorry for my rambling. Back to drinking.

As we're kicking back, partaking in a variety of adult beverages, I spy a tall, gorgeous man across the street heading into an office building. He's wearing an expensive suit with shiny black lace-up shoes and glasses. Hmm…he's pretty. Pretty fucking hot! I try to get Kate's attention, but she's busy talking to some cute blonde guy that's about six foot five and seems really into her. Harper is all over Ethan…Wait a god damn minute. What the fuck, Harper, and Ethan? Ooookaaayyy. I did not see that coming, but I guess it's okay. He's gorgeous, educated, has a steady job…and also lives in California. This is not going to end well.

My sister has only had two boyfriends. One that she was with throughout high school. Jesse was his name. She lost her virginity him. What a dick he turned out to be. Four years wasted I say. She also dated this guy, Michael, for two years when we first got to college. He turned out to be an even bigger dick. That motherfucker is lucky that Kate and I didn't cut his balls off and serve them to him sunny side up, after what he did to Harper. Cheater cheater pumpkin eater. Or should I say, pussy eater? After one of Harper's fraternity friends had finished with him, there was no way he'd forget what a big douche he was. The whore he was fucking behind my sister's back dropped out our junior year. Why? Big surprise, she got pregnant by some other guy she was doing at the same time as Michael. I heard Michael didn't graduate. Awe, too bad, so sad. Loser! This is why I don't date. Too much damn drama. I like my independence and being spontaneous. However, my idea of spontaneity is planning a trip to the library but detouring for coffee beforehand. I'm so boring. Oh god, I am NEVER going to get laid!

As I continue to daydream and watch the door for any signs of pretty fucking hot guy, I gaze over at Kate and see she is now sitting in cute blonde guy's lap. Well isn't that special. Looks like Kate's getting laid, Harper's getting laid. Ana…not so much. Stick to the plan, Ana. Get to Seattle, move into your awesome new condo, start your awesome new job then worry about getting the pretty fucking hot guy. I mean, really, who wants to be tied down at twenty-one. I'm not looking to get married or have a kid any time soon that's for damn sure. I want to travel, which hopefully I will be doing in my new job. Oh, I don't think I've told you what I'm going to be doing, did I?

Well, I'm fluent in a few different languages, and I majored in international business with a minor in communication, but I managed to snag a coveted job as a Business Strategy Manager for Bain & Company. They've just opened a new office in Seattle, and I interviewed with them three times before they offered me the job. I'm excited but nervous. I don't shit about shit in the real world, but I am book fucking smart. Don't know if that's helpful for this job, but I worked my bony ass off for my degree, and I better be able to do something worthwhile with it.

Kate is going to work for her father at Kavanagh Media. Duh, like no one saw that coming. She's going to do great. She's smart, witty and has a way with the written word. As she says, "journalism, not blood, runs through my veins." Now my sister, Harper, she is going to follow in my father's footsteps and join the family business. Hunter followed my dad's other footsteps into the military. Harper managed a dual degree in finance and international business law and will be working at our father's law firm; Steele, Grey, and Jacobson. However, she first has to pass her LSAT. I've never met the other two guys, so I've no clue who they are. My dad merged with Grey and Jacobson about a year ago. What I do know is that my dad is a kick ass lawyer and has made a name for himself across the country taking on high profile cases.

Even though my dad makes pretty good money, my mother works as the head chef at The Georgian in the Fairmont Hotel. She met my dad when he was in the military, and she was studying abroad learning how to cook freaking French food. I've had so much fucking French food in my life…really no one except French people should eat that much French food. It's a wonder that I don't weight five hundred pounds. She can cook a lot of different foods, but she loves her damn French food. She did teach us girls how to cook, and I can make a mean Chateaubriand, or if you prefer a less sophisticated meal, my grilled cheese and tomato soup is to die for. Shit, now I'm hungry. Hungry Ana is not good. Must get food.

I'm sitting next to the fence having visions of grilled cheese and tomato soup. Holy fuck! There's pretty fucking hot guy, and he's coming toward the bar. Oh, Jesus Mary and Joseph, he's not just pretty fucking hot, he's beautiful. Tall, about 6'4, built like a brick shit house and has gorgeous hair. It's dark, and you can see flecks of copper when the sun hits it.

Do people really fall in love at first sight? Naw, that shit doesn't happen does it? There's no way that Ana Steele is going to turn the head of this beautiful specimen. He reeks of money, and a guy like that only dates fucking stick figure, small booby supermodels. Of which, I am not. At five feet tall, I'm not exactly what you'd call catwalk ready. I have long brunette hair that hits just below my shoulders and is a bitch to deal with on a good day. I'm like the fifth 4 NonBlonde. Don't get me wrong, I'm proportionate, but I do have curves which I am proud of. I'm pretty fit for a girl who just graduate college. I exercise regularly, do yoga, kick box, swim, ride my bike when I can. For a short chick, I got it going on. Who am I kidding, he's never going to see me? Not just because he's almost two fucking feet taller than me, but I certainly don't look like what he'd go for. I'll just sit here and watch because really what else can I do.

I see Kate, and cute blonde guy stands up, Harper and Ethan are standing next to them when I hear my name. Oh yippee, they're all hooking up, and I'm odd man out. I can't even be the fucking DD because I've had one more than my limit, I am sure. I'm going to have to Uber home, and I hate the fucking Uber. Not only do I hate the name Uber but I'm not fond of the Uber drivers either.

Kate is still calling my name, but now she's waving her arms. I determine that if I don't find out what she wants, it could get ugly. Kate's not exactly shy. She's been known to do some crazy shit, and I wouldn't put it past her to do something that will embarrass me or cause me to end up in the ER.

I walk around tables full of other drunk college graduates. I try to make my way across the patio, praying to the gods of self-control that my feet behave themselves and my arms don't hit some poor schmuck's drink, and he dumps it on his bitchy girlfriend. Steady, Ana. Keep your eye on the prize. Speaking of which, where is pretty fucking hot guy. I saw him come in, but now I don't see him. I finally reach Kate, cute blonde guy, Ethan, and Harper. Yes! No spillage or cat fight.

Kate grabs my arm yelling to me that she wants to introduce me to the guy she's going to be fucking tonight. Great, Bose Noise Cancelling headphones here I come. As she pulls me closer, I lose my balance ending face down and ass up. Shit, I am for sure cutting myself off after this. As I try to pull my drunk ass up, I stand up, hitting someone's beer which is now on my head and running down my face. As I attempt to clear the beer and hair out of my eyes, I see pretty fucking hot guy standing directly in front of me. Oh god, this is not happening. Please tell me this is part of my daydream. Fuck, I need to find the closest hole so it can swallow me up.

After a moment of pure terror, I manage to brush myself off and stand upright. No concussion this time but definitely a bruised ego. I have no idea what possesses me to think this next move is ok when I reach around pretty fucking hot guy, grab a napkin and begin patting him as I try to dry off his very sexy black…oooh pinstripes…pants.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry. I hope I didn't ruin your expensive pants," I mumble as I continue my journey across his crotch.

He takes hold of my wrist essentially stopping me from any further public fondling. When I hear his voice, it makes me melt.

"Not a problem, it happens. I graduated from college too. I have extra clothes at my hotel. I just came to grab my brother, and he talked me into having a drink with him. I'll just have my housekeeper send them out to be cleaned when I'm back in Seattle."

"Can I at least pay for your dry cleaning. I feel bad you have to stand here with wet pants. Hey, good thing they're black. It would be really awful if you had khaki's on. Then it would look like you peed yourself. You don't look like a guy who can't hold it a while." Oh Jesus, Ana, shut the fuck up.

"Don't worry about it. Yes, it is a good thing I'm not wearing khakis.

"Again, I'm really sorry. My name is Anastasia by the way…or just Ana. Whichever you'd prefer. I prefer Ana. I don't know what my parents were thinking naming me after some Russian princess. But that's the name they gave me so I'm pretty much stuck with it for life."

He holds out his enormous hand, which is very well manicured too by the way.

"I'm Christian. It's very nice to me you Anastasia."

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think.

Continued A/N: I will moderate guest reviews, not because I can't handle constructive criticism but I will not allow someone to hide behind anonymity and bash and bully me when they don't have the balls to log in. I'm a grown ass adult and if you want to discuss something feel free to PM me but don't hide. I've read plenty of horrible reviews and watched many really good writers chased from this site because of the bullying and the BS high school drama. I'm giving you fair warning. If you don't like what I write, that's fine it's your prerogative. Do me a favor and just go away. Don't waste your time even posting because I will delete it and no one will ever get to see your words. Sorry if you don't like it but its my story, my choices.