Page 68 of Swim To Me

“He’s a personal trainer, but he’s been fired from the gym he was working at, apparently.” Grey shrugs. “I don’t know what’s going on with him, but I’m trying to be there for him as much as I can. As much as he’ll let me, is probably the better way of putting it.”

“That’s very nice of you.”

“It’s what big brothers are for.”

We lapse into a comfortable silence while we finish eating; me scrounging around in the bowl for the crispiest chips, while Grey laughs, pushing the bowl further towards me so I can continue my search.

“Will you be paying together or separately?” the waitress asks once we’ve finished.

“Together, please.”

“Grey—”

The card machine flashes green with acceptance as Grey taps his card, slides it back into his beaten-up leather wallet and sends me a grin.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” I say, although, the bubble of butterflies in my stomach only seems to flutter more at the action.

“I wanted too,” he says simply, pulling us both from the table until we’re standing.

Happily, I let Grey lead us away from the café, away from the crowds, taking us down an empty marble corridor with alcoves dotted here and there. Hands on my hips, Grey gently pushes me into one of these alcoves, figures of angels and cupid carved within the wood.

“What are you doing?” I hear myself giggle, skin flushing hot at the long length of Grey’s body lining up with mine until we’re face to face.

He gazes down at me, eyes hooded, still smiling. “Something I’ve wanted to do all day.”

Those eyes of his. Fuck.

They dip down to my lips, staying there for a moment or two, and then flick back up my face.

I’m warm all over, suddenly wishing I’d forgone the cardigan, but then Grey is pinching the thin fabric between thumb and forefinger, peeling it away from my chest so he can press a kiss to the bare skin there. My hips buck forward without a conscious thought, pressing up into Grey’s body as much as humanely possible, feeling the semi hard bulge in his slacks.

“Grey,” I breathe, nipples pebbling in my bra. With the way he swipes his thumb over my hard bud, I’m guessing he’s noticed them too. I tip my head into the wood behind me, uncaring how uncomfortable it is, when my core suddenly awakens.

I shift, making to rub my thighs together but stopping when Grey places his knee there, granting me an ounce of relief. But it’s still not enough. My body, my mind, my soul cries out for him, needing to feel him move against me, with me, in me.

Scrabbling, I untuck his button down from the waistband of his trousers, sighing against Grey’s Cupid’s bow when my fingertips are finally able to skitter across his warm, toned skin.

“We can’t do this here,” I mumble, contradicting myself as I grind down on Grey’s thigh, eyes rolling back for a second.

“No,” Grey agrees, leaving a trail of kisses on my neck, up to my ear so he can whisper. “We can’t have you screaming in the museum, gorgeous.”

“Uh…”

“I’m fucking desperate to kiss you. Have been all day.”

I force my lids open, holding the weight of his thick stare. “Then why haven’t you?”

Instead of answering, Grey’s lips land on mine with a touch of roughness I’m coming to enjoy, tangling our tongues together and groaning, like he can’t get enough of me.

That’s good.

Because I’m coming to realise, I can’t get enough of him either.

Chapter 17

Grey

My lips are still tingling from Delilah and I’s kiss in the alcove as we walk hand and hand down the elaborate staircase to the exit of the museum. The rain has slowed down, resulting in a steady trickle rather than a shower, but I still call my private car to come pick us up.