28. Grey

Chapter 28

Grey

C onsciousness filters into my brain slowly, flashes of last night trickling through my memory, reminding me of Delilah's surprise visit and the way she'd felt falling apart on my fingers in the bathtub and then again on my cock while she rode me.

The corners of my lips tick upwards at the thought, my hands reaching out beside me with a need to hold Delilah, feel the warmth of her body pressed tightly against mine.

But my fingers graze thin air, the space beside me empty, the bedsheet cold and rumpled.

Rubbing at my sleep crusted eyes, I sit up, straining my ears to listen for her in the en-suite, hoping to hear the sound of running water, or the flush of the toilet, but silence greets me.

Something seizes in the base of my throat, forcing me to swing my legs out of bed at a rapid rate, pull on a ratty pair of jogging bottoms and head out into the rest of my apartment in search of her.

"Delilah?"

A shuffle sounds at the door furthest down the hallway, making me take a step towards it, noticing the crack in the partially open door.

I push the door open fully, blinking at the sight of Delilah before me. She's wearing an old t-shirt of mine, the hem of it full of holes and loose threads, which swamps her petite figure, the length of it grazing the tops of her thighs. Her hair is undone, trailing down her back in curls I know feel as just as soft as they look.

She stares up at the row of bronze, silver and gold-coloured trophies and cups and medals covering the wall, each engraved with my name and the date they were won.

I wonder what she's thinking. What thoughts are running through her mind?

"Delilah?" I call again.

She doesn't jump so I know she knows I'm there, behind her, watching her stare up at the proof of my blood, sweat and tears. Instead, Delilah glances over her shoulder at me, smiling softly, and spinning on bare heels to close the short distance between us.

"Morning," she whispers, wrapping her arms around my waist.

Placing my finger beneath her chin, I tip her head back to catch her lips with mine. "Morning, gorgeous. I was looking forward to seeing you tangled up in my sheets when I woke up but you'd gone."

"My bladder woke me up and then I couldn't get back to sleep. I'm sorry I wasn't there; I hope you didn't think that I'd just upped and left."

That's exactly what I'd thought.

Delilah smirks. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow."

Grinning, I reach down to palm Delilah's arse. "I like the sound of that. So instead of sleeping, you we're snooping."

"I wasn't snooping!"

"Mhm…"

"Okay, I-I was intrigued, and Hudson nudged me in the right direction, or should I say door, this morning before he headed off to the gym—"

"Of course he did," I say, knowing my brother doesn't really obey boundaries – if he wants something, he goes for it, regardless of the potential consequences.

"You're not mad, are you?"

"No, gorgeous, I'm not mad. The complete opposite, actually. I worked hard to achieve my medals and trophies, but I don't really get the opportunity to show them off. I'm proud of them and I'm proud to show you."

Slinging my arm over Delilah's shoulders, I turn her around until we're both facing the wall of awards. "So, what do you think?"

"They're amazing, Grey."

I watch Delilah's eyes rove over the shelves, her fingertips reaching out to glide across the etched carving of my name in the base of a gold trophy cup.

"I won that one when I was fifteen, I—"

"Do you remember how old you were when you won each one?" Delilah asks, gazing up at me.

"Most of them. If not they usually have the date carved beneath my name so I can work out the age I would have been when I competed, but I remember most of them. It's something that sticks in your memory, you know?"

Delilah nods, eyes returning to the stacks.

"This one…" she says, pointing out the medal in question. It's my most bittersweet win and I'm not surprised Delilah has managed to sniff that one out in the sea of all the others. "Was this your last win before…"

"Yep." I can't bear to look at the medal, its colourful ribbon, which was supposed to hang around my neck, in perfection condition, not a thread out of place or a hint of sweat on the fabric, because I wore it for such a short amount of time. "That was my last win before the accident, although I didn't know that at the time."

"Grey—"

"I blamed myself for years… for being so reckless and going skiing in the first place when I should have been resting my body, or in a pool somewhere, practising, getting ready for the biggest move of my career."

"It wasn't your fault, Grey. It was a freak accident, that shouldn't have happened, let alone injure you and all those other poor people…"

I bundle Delilah up in my arms, her words dying on her lips, while I press a soothing kiss to the curve of her neck. "I know that now, gorgeous, I know."

Relaxing in my hold, Delilah swipes her thumb backwards and forwards over the butterfly tattoo stained into my skin as a constant reminder of my hard work and love of the swimming stroke that landed me my career.

"I'm really proud of you, Grey," she utters, voice low and soft.

I place a kiss to the top of her bed head, a silent thank you. "Are you ready for some breakfast?"

Delilah and I fall into a companionable silence while I crack some eggs into a sizzling pan with a twist of salt and pepper and she swipes a generous amount of butter over slices of perfectly toasted bread. Steam wafts from our coffee cups as we eat, thigh pressed to thigh on the sofa, mindless Saturday morning TV filtering in the background.

"Are you working today?" I ask Delilah, knowing she's got a manuscript deadline to meet for next week and that means her weekends aren't always as wide open as mine are.

She shakes her head, sipping at the dregs of her now lukewarm coffee. "Nope. I'm trying to be better at dividing my work and home life, which means taking the weekends off as I'm supposed to. I think I'll have the manuscript finished and polished by Monday, Tuesday at the latest, so I'm all yours."

She's all mine…

I grin like a schoolboy, linking our hands together. "How do you feel about going swimming, then?"

"Swimming? But we haven't booked a space out at the—"

"There's a private pool in my building. We can use that."

Delilah stares at me wide eyed for a moment. "I-I don't have my swimming costume with me."

"I'll ask if we can hire out the pool, just us, for an hour or so. I hardly ever see anybody use it anyway, other than me. Plus, your underwear covers as pretty much as a bikini does… especially that little white number you used to wear."

"I only wore than to get your attention," she reveals with a suspicious tilt to her sweet lips.

"You had my attention from the minute you walked into the pool and smiled up at me, gorgeous. Even more so when you slipped beneath the water, and I had to save you."

Groaning, Delilah buries her head in her hands. "Please, don't remind me. I don't know what the fuck I was thinking."

"I think you were thinking that you could swim."

At my teasing, Delilah lifts up her head, allowing me to see the blush staining her cheeks, and swats the top of my arm with her hand. "Shush."

I laugh, grabbing that hand and kissing the soft inner portion of her wrist. "Well, it led me to you, so I'm very grateful."

When Delilah smiles, I know she feels the same way. "Give me half an hour to let my breakfast go down and then we can go to the pool, although I'm warning you now, I'm probably going to be super out of practise."

"Don't you worry, gorgeous, I'll have you remembering how to do it in no time."

Delilah scurries off to get dressed while I clear our plates, quickly shoving on a pair of swim shorts.

"Grey?" Delilah remerges from the bathroom, dressed in nothing but a lacy black matching bra and underwear set that had been hiding beneath her clothes yesterday. "I can't just wear this down to the lobby to get to the pool."

I'm stuck on the way she looks; the heavy curve of her breast, the lace barely covering her nipples, the soft skin of her stomach, thick hips leading down to her cloth covered pussy which I know feels so fucking tight wrapped around my—

"Grey?"

Blinking, I drag my gaze upwards, landing on Delilah's face and the twinkle in her eye that lets me know she knows exactly where my mind is at.

"Maybe we should just stay in bed…"

"I don't think so." Delilah giggles. "You're the one who wanted to go swimming."

"Yeah, well, I've changed my mind."

"Swimming first, bed second. How does that sound?"

I nod, ignoring the protesting kick of my cock in my shorts. "There's a robe on the back of the door you can wear to go down in."

The hem of the robe swishes around Delilah's ankles because of her petite height, but she tightly ties it around her waist regardless, the pretty lace of her underwear disappearing from sight.

With my key card in hand, we step into the elevator, the doors smoothly gliding shut before I've even hit the button for the basement level.

"I'm a little nervous," Delilah admits, slipping her hand into mine.

"It's natural to be nervous about something you haven't done in a while, but you'll pick it back up in no time, I know you will."

The lobby, with its polished marble floors passes us by while we descend further down, until the doors open, the scent of salt and chlorine thick in the air.

It's quiet, as it usually is, not another soul using the pool, the surrounding sun loungers and the sauna popping and creaking with heat in the corner.

Leading Delilah to the poolside, I dive straight into the deep end, feeling the cool water rush over my head and kiss every inch of my skin in its own version of a welcome greeting.

Beneath the water, I swim to Delilah, breaking the surface beside where her bare feet are planted to the tiled floor. "You coming in?"

Shrugging off the robe, Delilah drapes it over a sun lounger and then returns to the metal stairs half submerged in the water. She turns to walk down them backwards, backing up into my hands that I hold aloft to steady her and then peering down at the way my palms are cupping the thick flesh of her arse with the crook of her eyebrow. I give her flesh a tempting squeeze and smile up at her with the innocence of an angel.

Once in the pool, I remove my hands from Delilah's body, allowing her to take control of herself in the water. "Can you remember how to float?"

Tipping her legs up and her upper body backwards, Delilah floats on her back, arms spread wide.

"Brilliant," I praise. "Are you ready to try and make it to the other side of the pool?"

Rightening herself on her feet, Delilah separates the water out in front of her in the breaststroke position at the same time as kicking off from the wall to propel her forward.

"Keep kicking! Imagine the float underneath you!" I stay a metre of so in front of Delilah, wading backwards so as to keep my eye on her. "Chin up and parallel to the water's surface, look straight ahead. Swim to me, Delilah."

I watch closely in case Delilah needs me, but she kicks steadily with only a small splash sounding behind her, elbows tucking tight to her body and then rounding up and out, pushing the water away.

Beneath my feet, I feel the tiles begin to slope downwards, the deepest end of the water nearing until I can't touch the floor myself and I'm forced to swim.

"Keep going, keep going!"

Delilah's fingertips bite into the tiles once we reach the edge, her breathing laboured, but her grin is contagious, unrestricted and beaming.

"I did it. I fucking did it!"

I grab Delilah's waist at the same time she launches herself at me, arms looping around my neck, while she squeals with her joy.

"I knew you could do it."

Delilah slots her lips against mine, moving soft and slow at first until she opens her mouth on a quiet moan and tangles our tongues together.

"I love you."

"Mm," she hums. "I'm never going to get sick of hearing you saying that. I love you, too."

Squeezing her waist, I glide my thumbs along her ribcage, stealing kisses from her while I tread water.

"Should we try a few more laps?"

Slithering out of my grasp, Delilah rightens herself, kicking off from the wall just as I've taught her, swimming down towards the shallowest end of the pool. I swim after her, catching up to Delilah in no time to swim side by side.

"I'll race you!"

Delilah's beginner's breaststroke is no match for the speed I can whip through the water, but I allow her a head start, giving her the advantage for a moment before I lengthen my body, pull my muscles in tight and take a deep breath.

Head dipping under water with each controlled inhale, I see the moment I pass by Delilah, heading back up to do another lap while she practises treading water. It feels good to stretch my body; muscles, tendons and ligaments lengthening and contracting, my body knowing what to do instantly.

"I win," I say, once I break the surface, smoothing my slicked back hair away from my forehead and pinning Delilah to the edge of the pool with my hips. "I think I'm owed a prize, don't you?"

Delilah drags her palms over my chest and up over my shoulders. "You can claim your prize upstairs."

"And what sort of prize should I be expecting? Hm?"

"Anything," she breathes, her eyes dipping down to my lips and then back up again. "I'll let you do anything you want as your prize."

"God, Delilah…"

I tuck my head into Delilah's chest, huffing out a strangled exhale at her words, feeling my cock swell behind the drawstring of my swim shorts. Adrenaline runs poker hot through my body; a mixture of hormones being released into my system, making my heart race.

Above me, Delilah begins to lightly scratch her fingernails through my scalp, her own body relaxing against mine. I close my eyes at the gentle sensation, listening to the steady rhythmic thrum of Delilah's pulse.

"Mm, this is nice."

"Really nice," I agree, feeling the water lap at our chests. "It'll be even better when we're on holiday and the sun is shining down on us too."

Delilah doesn't stop running her hands through my hair, but I hear her breathing hitch for just a second. "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere. Some place hot with a pool and the beach close by so we can swim."

"I'm not sure I'll be up to swimming in the sea against the current." Delilah laughs. "But the rest of it sounds lovely."

Once Delilah begins to complain about her quickly pruning fingertips, we take the elevator back up to my floor, both of us soaking wet and shivering in a damp bathrobe and towel.

I make us two cups of tea while Delilah dries herself off and changes back into my oversized t-shirt, padding into the kitchen, her phone in hand, while I sip the scalding liquid.

"Everything okay?"

Delilah glances up at me, opening her mouth to say something, until her phone buzzes again and she peers down at the screen.

"Yeah, I just… oh for fuck's sake…"

Amused at the profanities which so easily slip from Delilah's lips, I take another drink, leaning back into the kitchen counter behind me.

"I forgot there's a publishing party… a-a work function," Delilah explains, seeing the confused crook of my brow. "Next Friday night. It's for a well-known author we work with to celebrate the release of her latest book, and I'm expected to be there. God, I don't even know what I'm going to wear…"

I watch the cogs turning in Delilah's mind while she picks up her own mug, staring, unblinking, at the ceramic rim before she looks up at me.

"Will you come with me?"

"Of course."

Delilah grins. "I'll need a dress and you'll need a suit… do you have one?"

"Somewhere in the back of my wardrobe, yes," I say. "I'll have to hunt it out for the occasion."

"I'll find a dress to match, then and—"

"Oh, we're going to match, are we?"

"Of course we are." Delilah stares at me, puzzled. "You're my boyfriend and—"

"Is that how you're going to introduce me to your colleagues?"

I'm teasing her, I know I am, but I want to hear the words from Delilah's lips.

She stands a little taller, making room for herself between my legs. "Yes. Is there going to be a problem with that, Mr Millen?"

Discarding my empty mug, I reach down to fill my hands with the bare flesh of Delilah's arse and squeeze. "Nope. Not a problem at all."

"Good." Delilah's breath ghosts over my upper lip, but she makes no move to kiss me yet.

"If we're going to public places together… does this mean I can ask you to come to the Millen family dinner on Sunday?"

Delilah raises both of her eyebrows. "This Sunday?"

"Next. It's my mum's birthday and she's been asking nonstop for me to bring you over. I didn't know if you were ready for that, but if we're going to your work party together, then…"

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it'll be nice to meet everyone, and I know how much this means to you. I'd be really happy to celebrate your mum's birthday with you all."

On tiptoes, Delilah chastely presses her lips to mine, pulling away all too quickly for my liking. I cup her jaw, keeping her in place while I chase after her mouth, drawing a surprised whimper when I lick inside.

"I'm cashing in the right to my prize now, gorgeous."

"Here?"

"Bedroom," I swipe the pad of my thumb over the hard bud of Delilah's nipple pressing against the thin material of my shirt. "Go kneel on the bed."