I need to talk to Rose. I’ve so many questions, about sex, and you’re just too...– Oh, hi, Bella! Remember what you said last night? “Edward, what you fail to understand is that I wouldn’t talk about us to anyone anyway, even Rose, so it’s immaterial to me 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...
He reaches up and pulls my chin.“Stop biting your lip or I will fuck you in the...– Uh, okay. What if a family with kids gets into the elevator?
It’s perfectly natural that I should talk to someone, and I can’t...– If you can’t even talk to him, you should probably consider the immediate termination of your relationship.
Taylor looks kindly at me, and I think I see a hint of pity hidden in the depths...– Uh, yeah… Wait, what? Sexual habits are sexual habits.
Tomorrow then,” he says to Taylor, who nods. “Yes Sir. Which car...– “Comma in direct address, Sir!” Also, I might be misremembering, but I’m pretty sure Edward at one points mentions that he would like Bella to call him “Sir”. Am I the only one that finds it a tad creepy that he makes the paid help call him by the same honorific?
He’s wearing a black leather jacket. He certainly doesn’t look like...– Apparently a leather jacket is all it takes to transform a businessman into the ultimate badboy. Well, I certainly know what I’m dressing up as for next Halloween! Business mogul gone badass!
E. L. James killed my brain
Just kidding, but I’m pretty sure I’ve lost about half my brain cells since I first laid eyes on the first draft of Fifty Shades of <insert something offensive here>. I’m sorry for the unannounced hiatus. My faithful MacBook died unexpectedly, and my .gif collection and all my notations died with it. E. L. James might not have killed my brain, but I blame her awful...