Page 130 of Swim To Me

“Flirty, thirty and thriving?”

I throw my head back and laugh. Growing up with a houseful of brothers, Grey hadn’t really watched a romcom in his life. “A few here and there,” he’d admitted once when I wouldn’t let the matter go. I took that to mean he’d been forced to watch a select few with other past girlfriends.

I took matters into my own hands with that piece of information, schooling Grey on each of my favourite romcoms every Friday night with a takeaway, until we’d worked our way through the backlist the past couple of months.

“Yes.” I giggle. “How does it feel to be flirty, thirty and thriving?”

“Better than I could have imagined,” he admits.

“And why is that?”

“Because of you, Delilah.”

I kiss Grey in response, pouring my love into him until it’s overspilling between us.

Wrapping my arms around Grey’s neck, I pull him even further into my body, bare breasts squished against his chest, feeling his hands band around the ladder of my ribs and drag me into the water before I can even protest.

The cool water washing over my chest takes my breath away for a second, but Grey is a reassuring presence, coaxing me to wind my legs around his hips and float.

I close my eyes against the midday sun, trying to soak in every possible moment of our holiday together.

It had been a complete off the whim decision for me to even book time away for Grey’s birthday. I’d wanted to do something really special, something for Grey to look back on in the future, and the random ad, which popped up on my social media feed while I had been mindlessly scrolling one evening, for a private villa in Tenerife, Spain, had appeared like the perfect surprise.

I posed the idea to Grey’s mum and dad before I paid the non-refundable deposit, because I knew Grey had never, not once, spent a birthday without seeing his family and I worried how he’d take it. But they had encouraged it, promising we’d do a second birthday celebration for Grey once we got back in two weeks’ time.

I’d printed out the confirmation of our reservation and hid it inside his card, practically beside myself with excitement as I watched Grey figure out his birthday surprise. I even managed to snap a picture to capture the exact moment he realised and had set it as my new screensaver on my phone.

Now, we’re here, swimming around in our private pool, the entire stone villa to ourselves, while the heat pockets create mirages of the bright pink flowers and trees dotted around the villa.

The local town is only a walk away; full of small cafes, family run restaurants, and ice cream kiosks, where the ice cream is served in sugar cones and drips down your fingertips before you can get it to your mouth, leaving you sticky. Tiny shops sell handmade shell jewellery, linen clothes and sunglasses.

It’s everything I hoped it would be for our much needed holiday away.

Practically paradise.

Beneath the water, Grey’s fingers dip under the fabric of my barely there bikini bottoms – another birthday treat of mine – to cup the round flesh of my arse, while he slowly spins us around in the water.

I lay my head on his shoulder, placing a row of kisses along the stubble lining his jawline.

Grey repositions me in his arms, flexing the corded muscle there, bringing our pelvis’ flush together, until I can feel the already half-hard bulge in his swim shorts.

My blood thrums warm, as it has done the entire trip. The perfectly cool temperature of the pool water unable to soothe the heat coursing through me.

I don’t know who moves first, Grey or I, nor do I really care.

The second Grey’s lips touch mine, I willing lose all sense of control, allowing myself to fall into the clouds because I know he’ll look after me, take care of me, love me.

Soft kisses quickly turn into something harder; tongues clashing, teeth nipping.

Vaguely, I can hear myself whimpering, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet villa but I’m too fixated on the ache growing between my thighs.

I grind against Grey’s bulge without a second thought, too far gone with ecstasy slowly rippling up and down my spine.

“That’s it,” Grey praises, swimming us over to the edge of the pool and flattening my back against the tiles.

“Grey…” I breathe him in, and out and in again.

His hand disappears beneath the water, keeping me pinned the edge with his body, while his fingers hook into my bikini bottoms and slip through my folds.

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