Chasing Stanley (18 page)

They sat together on the couch. Delilah glanced around; the lighting in Jason's apartment was unusually subdued. Perhaps he'd been intending to invite her back here all along. There was no sound save for that of Stanley's panting, which seemed to grow louder each second that Jason didn't touch her. Delilah began to get nervous. When was he going to kiss her? When—

His mouth clamped down on hers softly. Delilah closed her eyes as the room slowly tumbled. It felt like there were feathers in her blood. She returned his ardor, careful not to appear overeager. Still, there was no ignoring how dizzyingly wonderful this was. How was it that time and time again, their lips fit so perfectly? How was it that he always tasted as delicious as she remembered? Time unspooled lazily as Jason drew her into a strong embrace. This, she thought dreamily, was exactly what she'd been waiting for. This sensation. This man.

Her breath hitched as his mouth moved down to feast on her neck. Anticipation juddered through her. Whatever he wanted to do, she would let him. Wherever he wanted to go, she would follow. When he pushed her shirt up and closed his mouth over the thin white fabric of her bra, she thought she'd die of shock and pleasure. He was taking his time, teasing. By the time his mouth latched onto her bare breast to suckle, Delilah could barely think straight. All that mattered was enjoying each delicious moment here on the precipice before taking the plunge.

And then Stanley woofed for attention, and she remembered.

“Shoot!” Delilah fumbled out of his embrace, pulling her bra back down over her chest and fixing her shirt. “The dogs.”

Jason blinked in confusion. “What?”

“My dogs,” Delilah replied frantically. “It's way past the time I usually take them out! I have to go.”

Jason looked astonished. “You're kidding me, right?”

“Please don't be pissed, Jason,” Delilah pleaded. “We got out of the dog show much later than I expected.”

“I'm not pissed. I'm stunned.”

The sweet languor that moments before had cradled her disappeared. In its place came the old familiar anxiety.

“I'm sorry but I have a responsibility to my animals and if you can't deal with that well—”

“Delilah, shut up a minute!”
Jason's voice was so loud and so abrupt even Stanley looked shocked. He took a deep breath, slowly massaging his forehead. Delilah held in her breath. Whatever he was going to say, she was sure it would be bad. She steeled herself.

“I need to tell you something, okay?” Jason asked in a measured tone.

“Okay,” Delilah replied timidly.

He put his arm around her. “I really like you, Delilah. I think you're sweet, and caring, and gorgeous.” He tilted up her chin so their eyes met. “I want to take you to bed and show you how I feel about you. And I'm going to.”

“You are?” Delilah squeaked.

“Uh-huh. Tomorrow night. After the dog show. I don't care what you have to do or who you have to pay to take care of your dogs, but you're spending the night with me. Got it?”

Delilah nodded dazedly. “Yes.”

“Good. Now Stanley and I will walk you home.”

 

 

“Oh dear God,
child.” Marcus shook his head in dismay as he held up a pair of Delilah's underwear for examination. “Who's been picking out your panties for you? Your grandma?”

“Give me that.” Delilah snatched back the plain white bikini brief and shoved it back into the drawer. “I knew it was a mistake telling you why I needed you to stay over tonight.”

“You don't think I would have figured it out? It's about time you and Jason did the deed. If I were you, I would have jumped his bones long ago.”

“I'm not a bone jumper.” Delilah began biting her nails. “I don't know if I can do this, Marcus.”

He patted her shoulder consolingly. “It's like riding a bicycle. Once you learn how, you never forget.”

“Not the actual act! What it signifies.”

Marcus addressed the ceiling. “Saints in heaven, help me.” His expression was stern as he looked back at Delilah. “Do you want this guy or not?”

“Yes.” Delilah closed her dresser drawer. “It's just—what if we start going out, and we fall in love, and we get married, but then things fall apart, and we have a horrible acrimonious divorce, and I wind up bitter and alone like my mother?”

“Honey?” Marcus looked worried. “You haven't even slept with Jason yet. Don't you think appearing on
Divorce Court
is a little premature?”

“I know.” Delilah sank down on the edge of her bed. “I'm afraid of the actual act, too,” she admitted. “It's been so long. He's probably slept with hundreds of women sexier than me.”

“That's why we're going to get you some sassy undergarments.”

“I don't do sassy undergarments.”

Marcus lifted an eyebrow. “You do if you expect me to spend the whole night here with your dogs.”

“That's blackmail!”

“Damn straight it is. Now put on your happy face and get your ass in gear. We're going panty shopping.”

 

 

“How about this?”

Delilah could feel the heat surging to her face and neck as Marcus held high a red silk thong for her and everyone else in Portia's Boudoir to see. Marcus told her if she looked sexy, then she'd feel and act sexy, and Jason would respond in kind.

Delilah had never felt sexy in her life.

“Put that away,” Delilah hissed, forcing his arm down. “I would never wear that in a million years.”

Marcus slipped the thong back on the rack. “Don't you want to look special for him?”

Of course she did. But she was afraid of making a fool of herself.

“How about this?” Marcus was holding up a skimpy purple bikini bottom encrusted with faux rhinestones.

Delilah stared at him. “You have got to be kidding.”

“I am, actually.” He put the offending garment back on the rack and grabbed Delilah's hand. “Come with me.” Delilah barely had time to think before she found herself standing before a smiling young saleswoman wearing the tightest skirt Delilah had ever seen in her life.

“Good day,” Marcus said to the woman. “My friend here is having sex with her boyfriend for the first time tonight—”

“—and she's completely clueless when it comes to alluring panties and the like. Could you help us find something sexy yet simple that won't cause her to have a breakdown? A matching bra to enhance her totties would be great, too.”

“Of course.” The woman regarded Delilah kindly. Or maybe it was with pity. “Please follow me.”

Delilah shot Marcus a murderous look as the two of them followed the saleswoman to the back of the store. “Lots of women have a hard time buying sexy things for themselves,” the saleswoman assured Delilah. Delilah did not feel comforted.

After trying on dozens of thongs, V-strings, tangas, and push-up bras in every color and fabric imaginable, Delilah chose a pair of black lace boy shorts with matching bra.

“Black is always sexy,” the saleswoman said approvingly as she rang up Delilah's purchase. Delilah went to take out her credit card but Marcus stopped her.

“This one is on me, sweet pea. Have fun tonight.”

 

 

“
I can't believe
the Newf didn't win.”

Delilah made herself smile as Jason led her into his apartment. Her anxiety had completely ruined her enjoyment of that evening's dog show. All she could think about was the lingerie she was wearing under her clothing. She found it itchy. And strange. She was worried about how Jason would react to it. What if he didn't find it sexy at all? Marcus assured her that any man with a pulse would find her deliciously hot, but you never knew. Human behavior was unpredictable. That's why dogs were preferable.

“Hey, boy.” Jason crouched down to hug and kiss Stanley, who'd been snoozing faithfully by the door. “Were you good?”

“He's always good,” Delilah chimed in, rubbing Stanley in his favorite spot behind his ears.

“Do want to come with me to take him on his final walk?” Jason asked, reaching for Stan's leash.

“No, I'll stay here.”

“Okay. Well, there's wine in the fridge.” He fastened the leash to Stan's collar. “We'll just be a minute.”

“Have fun,” Delilah said, regretting it immediately.
Have fun?
What a stupid thing to say.

Jason and Stan departed, leaving Delilah alone. It was funny; she was in and out of here almost daily, yet she never really bothered to take the place in. It was still sparsely furnished, but at least Jason had gotten around to putting shades on the windows. Her interest was drawn toward the many photos crowding the mantelpiece. Many were of Jason out on the ice throughout his life, but some were of his family. There was a picture of him and Eric in matching hockey uniforms standing side by side on a pond; they looked to be about four years old. In another frame, a news clipping proclaimed, “Mitchell Twins Drive Flasher to Victory!” For someone who claimed to find his brother “a huge pain in the ass,” Jason certainly had a lot of pictures of them together. Jason would claim the link between them was simply inescapable, but Delilah knew better. The brothers loved each other.

“Checking out the peanut gallery, I see.”

Delilah turned to see Jason and Stanley coming through the door. Feeling guilty, she put the photo in her hand back on the mantel. She hoped it didn't look like she'd been snooping around.

Jason unsnapped Stanley's leash, and Stanley immediately bounded up onto the couch. “I know, I know, I know,” Jason said before Delilah had a chance to speak. “It's bad behavior. But just for tonight, let's let it go.”

The meaning behind his words had Delilah blushing. This was it, the moment of truth. Beneath the itchy lace of the miracle bra giving her cleavage for the first time in her life, Delilah could feel her heart beginning to pound. She wondered if Jason was anxious, too. He certainly didn't look it.

“C'mere,” he whispered.

Stiff as a robot, Delilah walked toward him.
You can do this,
she thought to herself as panic began to rise.
You can be as sexy and alluring as the next woman.

Jason wrapped his arms around her. “You okay?”

Delilah nodded woodenly.

His expression was tender as he swept back some hair from her face. “Look, I realize I came on pretty strong last night. If you don't want to, you know, that's fine with me. We can just kiss and cuddle and stuff.”

“But we have to have sex!” Delilah blurted. “I bought special underwear!”

God, I'm an idiot.
Delilah cast her head down, wishing she were in a Godzilla film. That way, the monster could appear out of nowhere
right now
and crush her flat. She couldn't stare at the floor forever; that much she knew. With what little dignity she had left, she made herself look Jason in the eye. He wasn't looking at her like he she was an idiot. He was looking at her like she was hot.

“Special underwear,” he murmured, sounding intrigued. “Like the Mormons wear?”

Delilah's fingers squeezed his arm. “Don't joke. I'm a nervous wreck.” As if he didn't already know. Still, she felt better confessing it, despite the fact it could ruin the moment completely.

Jason looked puzzled. “I don't understand why you're nervous. It's just me.”

“I'm nervous
because
it's you. I want everything to be perfect.”

“It will be. You just need to shut up and relax.”

They stared at each other a moment, then burst out laughing.

“I'm usually a bit more smooth than that,” Jason assured her.

“I hope so.”

“So,” he began as he caressed her cheek, “can I see the special underwear?”

Delilah nodded, trembling involuntarily at his soft touch.

“C'mon,” he whispered, taking her hand as they tiptoed past the slumbering, snoring Stanley.

Jason's bedroom was cool and dark. Delilah paused just inside the door, waiting as he went to turn on the bedside lamp. She wished he wouldn't. It would so much easier to remain in the dark, to hide all she felt for him in shadows. Light meant truth. She'd be revealed to him. Delilah wasn't sure she was ready.

The light came on, bathing the room in gray twilight. Jason stood by the bed smiling in invitation, his hand held out to her. Delilah joined him, trying to hide her trembling. His mouth touched hers, gentle, reassuring. “It's just me,” he murmured, kissing her neck. “Only me.”

“I know,” Delilah whispered back. Her own voice sounded shaky in her ears.

“It's going to be fine,” he assured her as he drew her into a loving embrace. “Here, wrap your arms around my neck.”

Delilah did so, completely enchanted when he lifted her up and placed her down gently on the bed, lying down beside her. “You have to trust me,” he whispered, his fingers playing down her cheek. Delilah looked into his eyes; there was such tenderness there, such concern. But there was also hunger.

Delilah nodded, her eyes lazing shut. His mouth dipped to hers, the pressure barely tangible. Delilah allowed herself to sink into the sweetness of the moment. His mouth on hers . . . his body against hers . . . how could something so simple feel so perfect? Timidity waned as her hands began exploring his back. It felt hard beneath her fingers; hard and muscled. Jason responded to her touch with a moan. An unexpected surge of power awakened in Delilah, and she shifted her hands lower, skimming his hips. He was already hard. Already wanting.