Chasing Stanley (30 page)

“What?” Delilah responded with alarm.

Jason handed her drink back to her, pointing to a large blond man with a piercing gaze gesturing Jason join him. “My coach wants to see me. I wonder what I've done wrong now.”

“Relax,” said Delilah. “It might be nothing.”

“You're right.” Jason gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. “I'll just be a minute.”

Delilah watched him go, taking a big chunk of her self-confidence with him. Here she was, standing alone at the bar in a hot, noisy room full of strangers. She had two choices: she could keep standing here while her jitters returned with a vengeance, or she could venture into new territory and force herself to make human contact. Terrifying though it was, she determined to do the latter. Jason would be proud of her, and she would have proved to herself that she wasn't a completely inept loser when it came to certain social situations.

Delilah scouted the room. Denny O'Malley stood at a nearby buffet table, heaping a small mountain of food onto his plate. Perfect. At least she vaguely knew him, which was better than going up and introducing herself to a total stranger. Delilah took a deep breath and walked over to the table.

“Hi, Denny,” she said brightly.

Denny glanced up and seemed to register she was there, but said nothing. Delilah blinked, confused. Maybe he hadn't heard her?

“It's Delilah, Jason's girlfriend,” she continued in a slightly louder voice. “How are you?”

Denny remained silent as he continued loading his plate. Delilah felt herself slowly sliding into panic. Was it possible he didn't remember her? She swallowed hard, determined to give it one more try.

“Maybe you don't remember me? I—”

“I remember you.” Denny's gaze was hostile. “Excuse me.”

He walked away, leaving Delilah burning with humiliation and confusion. She looked around wildly. Jason was in deep conversation with his coach. It seemed unlikely he'd be “back in a minute.” Delilah's pulse pounded her ears, a bitter taste filling her mouth. Why had she even bothered to try? She
was
inept. She
was
a loser. Tears already beginning to blur her vision, Delilah deposited her drink back at the bar and fled the party.

 

 

What the hell
happened?
Jason's mind hadn't stopped racing from the time he discovered Delilah left the party right up until now, as the cab deposited him in front of her building. One minute, Ty was talking to him about mixing up the lines to beef up the offense; the next, Delilah had disappeared. Alarmed, Jason asked Tierney and David if she'd said anything to either of them or if they'd seen her go, but neither had. Something must have happened to her mother. Or her father. Or worse still, one of her dogs. Knowing Delilah, she didn't want to interrupt him while he was talking to Ty. His worry increased the longer he tried to come up with reasons for her abrupt disappearance. Jason left the party, cabbing from Bensonhurst back to Manhattan. If she needed him, he wanted to be there for her as soon as he could.

He was granted a small reprieve from the mad, unchecked thoughts in his head when he presented himself to the night doorman, and Delilah buzzed him up right away. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, he flew up the stairs two at a time. He knew from past experience that she would have unlocked the door for him, so he plunged right inside. Delilah sat on the couch, wrapped tightly in the oversized fleece blanket she liked to snuggle beneath when watching TV. Her eyes were red-rimmed, the lids puffy from crying.

“Delilah.” Jason rushed to her side. “What happened?” He did a quick scan of the room; all three of her dogs were safe and sound, sleeping on the floor. That took care of that possibility. Perhaps Marcus had had an emergency?

“I'm sorry,” Delilah apologized quietly. “I should have let you know I was going. But I couldn't think.”

“Honey, what happened?” Jason searched her eyes; all he saw was pain. “Are you sick? Is everything all right?”

“No, I'm not sick. But I don't know if everything's all right.” Delilah looked distraught. “If I ask you a question, do you promise you'll answer me honestly?”

“Of course.” Jason was completely mystified.

“The night of our date—when we went to dinner with your friends?” Her eyes began filling up. “Did I say or do anything offensive?”

“No. Why would you even think that?”

“Because tonight”—Delilah seemed on the verge of completely breaking down—“when you went off to talk to your coach, I thought I'd make myself be sociable. I went to say hello to Denny, and he wouldn't even talk to me. In fact, he looked like he hated me. So I thought I must have done something—”

“You didn't,” Jason interrupted fiercely. “Believe me.”

Delilah blinked in bewilderment. “But—”

“Listen to me, Delilah. It's him, not you.”

“I don't understand.”

Agonized, Jason glanced away. “I don't know how to say this.”

Delilah's eyes clamped shut. “I know I'm a loser. I know I suck when I'm in big groups of people and I bleat and blurt and—”

“
Stop.
I told you: it's not you.” He hated seeing her rip herself to shreds like this because of that asshole, Denny.

“Then what?” she asked plaintively. “Do I smell? Have bad breath?”

“Nothing like that,” Jason scoffed.

“Then what?”

Jason grimaced. “Denny's anti-Semitic.”

Delilah looked stunned as she drew the blanket around her shoulders tighter. “He is?”

Jason frowned. “Yeah.”

“How do you know?”

“He said some things,” Jason replied evasively, leaning over to pet Shiloh, who had just settled at his feet. He wondered how Stan was doing.

“What things?” Delilah asked.

How much should he tell? All of it? Some of it? Didn't she have a right to know?

“He made a crack that he was surprised I would go out with someone with the last name Gould. That's how it started. We got into it on the road.”

Delilah looked like she was sinking in a quicksand of confusion. “What do you mean, ‘Got into it on the road'?”

Jason rubbed a weary hand across the back of his neck. “He started saying some really offensive things, and I basically beat the crap out of him.”

Delilah looked away. “Oh, God.”

Jason put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed tight.

“I'm so sorry, babe.”

“I'm sorry, too. I hate the thought of being a source of trouble between you and your teammates.”

“You're not. It's one teammate, and he's an asshole.”

“Are you sure he's the only one who feels that way?” She shed the blanket, revealing hands clasped so tightly her fingertips were turning red. “What if the others feel that way?”

“They don't.”

Comprehension flickered in Delilah's eyes. “Is that why you were so aloof when you called from the road? Because all this was going on?”

“Yeah,” said Jason, hating to admit it.

“God,” Delilah repeated, disgusted. “Some people are so ignorant.” She laughed bitterly. “Guess I won't be inviting
him
to my mother's for Hanukkah.”

Jason's interest was piqued. “Your mom's having a Hanukkah party?”

“Less a party than dinner for a few people.” Delilah brightened a bit. “I can't wait for her to meet you.”

“She already did, remember?”

“Shoot.” She'd spaced on her adventure with Eric. “I'll explain it all to her when we get there.”

“I'm sure it will be fine.”

Delilah sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. Jason liked it; it made him feel as though he were her protector, the person she relied on to buffer her from the storms of self-doubt that seemed to besiege her. She was so vulnerable. If only he could figure out some way to bring out the self-confidence she displayed when it came to dogs. She'd be unstoppable!

He kissed the top of her head. “I was so proud of you tonight. I know how hard it must have been for you to come to that party, especially all alone.”

Delilah's gaze was soulful as she lifted her head to look at him. “I wanted to do it. For you.”

“That means a lot to me.” He couldn't take his eyes from hers. “I love you, Delilah.”

Jason couldn't decide which of them was more shocked: Delilah, who clearly hadn't expected to hear it, or himself, who hadn't expected to say it. He couldn't believe how easily the words had glided off his tongue. He'd always thought that when he finally told a woman he loved her, it would be a monumental moment, the emotional equivalent of the ocean surf crashing in his ears. Instead, the moment had crept up on him quietly, like the moon slowly rising over the crest of the hill.

“I love you, too, Jason,” Delilah said quietly, so quietly he almost didn't catch it. He kissed her then, her body pliant in his arms. Gentle as the moment was, he felt something surge within him, greedy and demanding. He wanted to stake claim to her, the terrain of her body a map he wanted to memorize. He paused, pressing his burning forehead against hers, and then, like the explorer he'd deemed himself to be, he carried her off to the bedroom, kicking shut the door behind him. It was clear right away how poorly Stanley was trained in comparison to Delilah's dogs; not one of them howled or scratched at the door.

He laid her back gently on the bed, debating whether or not to turn on a light. Darkness could be its own mystery, a tool for lovers to wrap themselves in or hide in if they so chose. But light was better. Explorers needed light, especially when it came to being guided toward their treasure. He turned on just one of Delilah's bedside lamps, throwing her small but tidy bedroom into subdued relief. Her eyes were wide but excited as she looked up at him. Jason knew that whatever journey he was about to take Delilah on, she was a more-than-willing participant.

He lay down beside her, kissing her fully on the mouth. The urgency he tasted there matched his own, but he didn't want to hurry. Rather, he wanted to tarry. He gathered her up in his arms, his lips moving gently over her face, pausing to kiss sweetly her closed lids. She was so beautiful; why couldn't she see that? As if reading his thoughts, Delilah's eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him with complete surrender and trust. Moved, he pressed his mouth to the soft terrain of her throat, as his hands slid down her back to cup her small, firm bottom. A quiet but unmistakable purr of delight stole past Delilah's lips. For a moment she looked embarrassed, almost abashed. Jason decided to banish the look with a swift nip to her right earlobe. It had the effect he wanted: Delilah seemed to surrender to her own desire, a moan escaping her lips as Jason dipped his head to reacquaint himself with the soft, ivory skin of her neck and throat. His mouth teased and tickled; it skimmed and played. He knew Delilah could feel how badly he wanted her, just as he could tell how bad her own need was for him, as each touch of his mouth to her skin had her pressing her body harder against his.

“Jason,” she whispered. He lifted his head to look at her. Her eyes glimmered with need. “I'm going to go crazy if you don't—”

He crushed his mouth to hers, her small gasp inciting him. Sweetness was turning to juddering lust; he needed to slow down and take his time, even though the ache pounding through him could easily drive him over the edge. Slowly, deliberately, he took his mouth from hers, eyes catching hers as his fingers took their time unbuttoning her blouse. He pushed her shirttails back, revealing the beautiful lace bra she'd worn the first time they made love. It dawned on Jason she'd worn it on purpose in anticipation of just such a moment as this, wanting to please him. The realization sent a fresh surge of desire through his body. Head reeling, he undid the clasp at the back of her bra and freed her, cupping her breasts in his hands. Delilah tensed, her breathing unsteady as he took his time caressing her. By the time he took her into his mouth to suckle, she was trembling in his arms, rocking against him in a way he thought would drive him mad.

And then it all stopped.

Wild-eyed, Delilah sat up, trying to tug off his shirt. Jason complied, his breaths becoming shallow as he waited to see what she was going to do. “Close your eyes,” Delilah commanded. Jason obeyed just as the burning skin of her palms made contact with his chest, caressing him slowly. Control was beginning to fade. If he didn't take this woman now, he would burst.

Determined to drive both of them into oblivion, he grabbed Delilah and pulled her back down onto the bed. He could not stop kissing her, his lips landing wildly on her body, one moment on her mouth, the next clamping down on her shoulder. Delilah's breath was hitching now, her head thrown back in a posture of total and willing submission. Frenzied, Jason ran his fingers over every available inch of bare flesh, groaning in frustration at the inconvenience of their having to shed the rest of their clothing. He rose up, fumbling for his wallet and protection before hastily undoing his jeans and kicking himself free of his pants and his briefs. Beside him, Delilah was doing the same as she shimmied out of her pants and panties, the sultry smell of her body like incense, like heaven. Delilah lay back, the naked desire in her eyes making it hard for him to keep any thought but her in his head. One minute they were both panting with desperation. The next he had slid inside her, Delilah moaning with unabashed pleasure as she wrapped her legs tightly around him and they began moving together.

Jason twined his fingers through hers, hungering to get as much contact with her as he could. He would start slowly, taking his cues from her when it came to tempo. But Delilah didn't want that; there was fire in her eyes, a plea for holy immolation made all the more enticing as she strained against him, wanting more, wanting all he could possibly give. Jason complied; she came in a dazzling flash, the passionate cries cascading from her lips driving him insane.