Page 75 of Swim To Me

Grey kisses the top of my head gently, manoeuvring us until we’re both inside and he can lock the door.

He walks us slowly to my bedroom, fingers skimming the waistband of my pencil skirt. “Do you want to get changed? This skirt can’t be too comfortable to sleep in.”

I wince at the pain lancing behind my eyes. “My pyjamas are in top drawer.”

Perching me on the edge of my bed, Grey pads to my top drawer, returning with a silk rose coloured camisole and a matching pair of shorts, hemmed with lace.

“Thank you.” I peer down to watch my shaky fingers fiddle with the pearlescent buttons on my blouse.

“May I?”

“Please.” His nimble fingers quickly undo the row holding my blouse together, peeling it from my shoulders and then unclipping my bra at my nod. Whether I’m ill or not, I don’t want to be sleeping in fucking underwire.

With me sitting, and Grey standing, my face is inches from his groin, so it doesn’t go unnoticed by me when his cockswells as he pulls my pyjama camisole over my head, knuckles brushing the sides of my breasts.

“Ignore it,” Grey remarks with a smile. “All he’s thinking about is boobs.”

I giggle, quickly turning into a gasp when the temples zap with pain. “I’m sorry I’m not calling you over here tonight for something more… fun.”

“Don’t be silly.” Grey supports my weight while I stand, grabbing tight a hold of his corded forearms while he peels my pencil skirt from my waist. “I want to be here when you need me, Delilah.Anytime you need me.”

Rising on my tiptoes, I press my lips to his. “I’m so grateful you came into my life, Grey.”

“The feeling is mutual, gorgeous.”

My smile pulls at the sensitive skin around my temples, but I can’t help myself, not when Grey is around.

“Do you want a painkiller?”

Slipping under my bedcovers, I silently count on my fingers how long it’s been since I took my last tablet. More than enough hours ago. “Yes, please. And some water.”

Draping my skirt over the back of my vanity chair, so it doesn’t get crumpled because he knows Ihatethat, Grey nods. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you. Wait—actually…” The saliva in my mouth has already dried up seeing Grey move around so effortlessly in my space, but then he’s gripping the door frame of my bedroom, and turning to peer at me over his broad shoulder, causing my heart rate to skyrocket. There’s something so masculine about the move. All he needs to do now is fully face me, reach up and allow his shirt to rise a little, giving me a glimpse of his flat stomach and his happy trail leading right down to his—

“Delilah?”

“There’s a pack of gel migraine strips in the bathroom cupboard, could you bring me one?”

I close my eyes for a minute while Grey is away, glad to feel the nausea subsiding now I’m laying down flat. The whoosh of my blood is still audible through my ears, but—

Crash!

“Shit! Sorry!” Grey calls over the sound of plastic bottles tumbling, while I wince in pain from the sudden noise.

“What did you drop?” I ask when he returns, a litter of items clutched in his arm.

Grey smiles at me boyishly, all dimples. “Nothing. Here’s your water and migraine strip.”

Peeling off the sticky back, I sigh in contentment when the migraine strip makes contact with my skin, sitting deliciously cool on my forehead.

Grey fiddles with the painkiller blister pack, popping out a single white capsule and handing it over for me to swallow down gladly.

Licking the water from my dry lips, I wave my hand toward my still open blinds. The August sunlight shines through the slats, pooling across my carpet with its buttery warmth. Normally, I’d be more than happy to soak it all in, but not when it’s burning my retinas, slicing through my brain like spokes.

I squint my eyes against the pain. “Could you close the blinds too, baby?”

For a second I worry I’m asking too much of him, but Grey just grins, padding over to close my blinds and shroud the room in darkness.

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