Topic: Falling

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:52 EST
((Contains reference to adult situations.))

The third date was always tricky territory. Most people went by the third date rule, admittedly, but it was virtually impossible to be sure. Unless, of course, you were Bethany Granger, and you were dating Jason Daly. Beth had been in prep overdrive for almost the entire afternoon; after lunch with her mom - which was always fun and thankfully hadn't resulted in any bruises, real or imagined - she'd come home and begun all those little things women had to do, according to every leading magazine. Personal grooming done, she'd spent an hour or so slicing meat and vegetables before a glance at the clock had told her time was running out. The clothes dilemma had been solved during lunch with Miranda, and Beth honestly had intended to wear the sandals she'd worn home from lunch. She just ....forgot.

Like three strikes in baseball, the third date often was the one that would make or break a relationship. They were past the first meeting stage and the starting to get acquainted stage. They already knew there was a definite attraction between them, and they seemed to have some things in common, but where they compatible" Did their relationship have staying power" Was there more to it than just physical attraction' Did either have any annoying habits that the other just couldn't live with' The third date might help determine the answer to some of these questions and whether or not their relationship would continue.

Jason had gotten past the third date a few times, but for some reason, it had never stuck. He didn't really blame anyone for it. It just had never been quite right, and he had reached a point in his life where he'd just about given up, presuming he was going to spend the rest of his life as a bachelor. But then, he'd met Bethany Granger and he'd felt hopeful again. There was an old saying that the third time was the charm. Maybe this time, it was the third date.

He wasn't the only one feeling hopeful. Maybe I should have mentioned that I don't invite guys to my place, she worried in the midst of checking the marinading strips of duck, her eyes wandering over her apartment for the umpteenth time, looking for anything that was out of place. Nope, I can see the floor. That's an improvement. Licking her fingers clean, she skipped into the bathroom to attempt to make her hair somewhat presentable, and after three goes, she gave up. "Oh, screw it. He's not here for the hair." Shaking a hand through the brunette tousle, she glanced into the bedroom, blushed, and skipped straight back out again. Dinner, focus on the dinner. Not on eating him.

He was feeling not only hopeful, but more than a little bit nervous. This was the third date, after all. It was an important one, not only because it was the third date, but because she'd invited him to her home, and that alone made it special. He was so nervous, he'd had to circle her block twice, partly because he was having trouble finding a parking spot and partly to calm his nerves. This date meant a lot to him - she meant a lot to him - and he didn't want to screw it up. In fact, she meant more to him than anyone else he'd met in a very long time. And so, he found himself standing outside the door to her apartment, taking a deep breath before rapping on the door and waiting somewhat nervously for an answer.

The rap on the door made her jump violently, her nerves leaping to above ten out of ten at the realisation that her hot date had arrived. Swallowing her instinctive reaction to yell at the door that she was coming, Beth grabbed a towel to wipe her hands clean as she bounced across the narrow apartment, one hand on the door. One quick glance into the mirror, and she pulled the door wide open, a warm, shy smile lighting up her face as she met Jason's gaze. "Hi."

She was met with a smile that matched hers in warmth and shyness, unsure why he was feeling so nervous when date one and two had gone so well. It had been a few days since he'd seen her, but nothing had changed really. He felt his heart thumping hard in his chest at the sight of her, feeling like a silly schoolboy on his very first date. "You look..." He paused for just a moment to look her over, finding her even more beautiful than he remembered. "...amazing," he finished, his eyes taking her in from head to cute little bare toes and back again, settling finally on her face.

Three days had done nothing to stall the eagerness to see him, or the lurch she felt in her chest on seeing his smile again. As his gaze travelled over her, hers was busily reciprocating, pleased he hadn't dressed up too much and, yes, definitely enjoying the view. His shirt left little to the imagination, making her grin as she stepped backward to invite him in. "Right back atcha," she winked at him. "C'mon in, make yourself comfortable. It's not much, but it's home."

"Thanks," he said, stepping past the doorway and into her apartment, which at first glance was very different from Miranda's. "Oh!" he exclaimed, as if almost forgetting the bouquet of daisies in his hand. He held the bouquet out to her, hoping she wouldn't mind that he'd bought them for her. It seemed the least he could do. "These are for you," he stated the obvious. Who else could they possibly be for? Daisies, not roses, avoiding that cliche, wanting to give her something different. Something as bright and sunny as she was.

"Oh, they're lovely - thank you!" Her fingers brushed his as she took the bouquet into her hand, closing the door with a slow lean as she bit her lip at the electric surge that flickered through her at that innocent little touch. Her apartment might have been a lot less luxurious than her mother's condo, but there were a few similarities to be seen. The clean lines seemed to be shared by mother and daughter, though Beth's space was splashed with bright color here and there. Narrow it might be, but there was space enough for her, and it showed. "Uh, dinner's only gonna take about ten minutes to cook, so we're good to go whenever you'd like."

He smiled as she thanked him for the flowers and took the bouquet from his hand, her fingers brushing his. He paused just inside the doorway to take a look around, finding her apartment more appealing than Miranda's, mostly because the bright colors gave it a warmer, friendlier, less stark appearance than the more modern feel of Miranda's. He shrugged his shoulders at the mention of dinner. He'd brought an appetite with him, but he wasn't starving. "We're on your schedule."

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:53 EST
"That helps, thanks." He'd made her laugh, though, despite the drawling sarcasm of her reply. "I hope you get on with Chinese food. I, uh ....I'm not the best cook, but this is something I can make." She giggled, shaking her head as she looked down, and finally noticed her bare feet. "Aw, man ....I promised Mom I'd wear shoes, and look at me!"

He seemed to sense her nervousness, which almost matched his own, but for different reasons. "Stop worrying, Beth. Chinese is fine. I'm sure anything you make will be fine. I'm not that picky, so long as it's not shellfish," he reminded her as he stepped further inside. He chuckled as he followed her gaze to her bare feet. "You promised Miranda you'd wear shoes" Why?" he asked, realizing the answer to his own question almost as soon as he'd asked it. "Oh, it's the fashion thing, isn't it?"

"I promised you, no fish of any kind," she laughed softly, moving toward the kitchenette on her scandalously bare feet. "Ever had duck?" One hand opened up an overhead cupboard, and she was forced to turn her back, rising up onto her toes to reach for a vase. "Yeah, I guess fashion demands shoes," she went on. "Must be one of her biggest disappointments that I'm just not fashionable."

He watched her a moment before unexpectedly coming up behind her to reach around her for the vase she was trying so hard to fish out of the cupboard but couldn't quite reach. He reached it easily, but in doing so, had to lean close to her, hovering against her, his fingers brushing hers once again, acutely aware of her closeness, the clean scent of her hovering in the air between them. "I doubt you could disappoint anyone," he replied as he pulled the vase out of the cupboard.

He was suddenly right there, close behind her, and Beth had to struggle not to let her brain turn to goo as her face turned toward his, dropping back onto her heels as her gaze found his. "You'd be surprised," she heard herself murmur, distracted by his clean scent. God, he smells good. She could feel her back brushing against his chest as she lingered there, a half-smile touching her lips even as her gaze flickered to his mouth and back again. "You look really good."

He smiled back at her, hovering behind her a moment longer than necessary, sensing he was having as much an effect on her as she was on him, and taking pity on her, he backed up a pace to give her room and set the vase on the counter. "Even with shoes on?" he asked, with a playful smirk.

Opportunity lost. Sex appeal times one thousand. She giggled at his teasing query, taking up the vase to half fill it with water as she shook her head. "Wait until you see some of my shoes," was her playful answer, her smile warm as she turned her attention to unpicking the daisies from their wrapping. Which lasted for about ten seconds before her brain made a smart decision. "I'm so bad at this." She turned abruptly, stepping away from the counter on her bare feet, and curled her hand to his cheek, rising up to kiss him. Maybe she wasn't an instant gratification kind of girl, but trying to cook while fixating on her guest's mouth was never going to be a winner.

"I wasn't aware that I'd been invited to inspect your shoe collection," he teased further, his smirk fading as she unexpectedly turned to face him so that she could kiss him. A moment ago, he had been almost overwhelmed by her closeness, but he'd decided to be a gentleman and step away, not wanting to seem too eager or too forward. And here she was, making the first move, perhaps only to break the ice and ease both their nerves, but once she was there so close to him again, he found her difficult to resist. The third date had hardly even begun, and she was already in his arms.

He felt better than she remembered, stronger and gentler than her daydreams had made him out to be, and infinitely more distracting than the memories so carefully stored from Coney Island. Drawing back, Beth's smile was finally the familiarly wide curve it had been a few days before, her nerves easing down as she leaned close, feeling his breath mingle with hers. "Now that's a hello."

Without a thought, he'd wrapped his arms around her, his lips meeting hers with as much eagerness as hers had claimed his. Now that she'd kissed him, he seemed almost reluctant to let go, but he would make no assumptions regarding her intentions, though they both hoped the evening would end a certain way. "I've missed you," he found himself saying, though it had only been a few days. He felt silly saying it, but it was the truth. It had been a long weekend without her, and he'd had a hard time distracting himself from thoughts of her and not coming up with excuses to visit either here or at the hospital.

If it was possible, her smile deepened, a brighter expression of the warmth she felt for him as he shared that little confession, relieved to know it wasn't just her. "I missed you, too," she whispered back to him, her fingertips stroking gently against his cheek as she lingered in his arms, not entirely sure she wanted to move away. Without conscious thought, she kissed him again, enjoying the freedom to do just that without worrying about prying eyes or embarrassing herself with her own boldness.

They had agreed that they'd wait until after the third date before sharing anything more than a kiss, and though the third date has begun, he found himself wanting to skip past dinner and conversation, skip past all the rules he'd set for himself, and learn each other in a whole different, more intimate way, and yet, he held himself back. Ever the gentleman, he let her lead the way, following her cues, not wanting to make any undue assumptions, no matter how badly he wanted her. His kiss, however, told another story. His kiss spoke of his passion and the physical desire he was having such a hard time suppressing. There was no denying the fact that he wanted her; there was no way to hide that from her lips.

It was difficult to pull herself away, so easily caught up in new sensation with someone she'd been dreaming about all weekend. She could feel how much he wanted her, hoping that her own desire was just as evident in the soft way her lips lingered on his, tingling with anticipation that she wasn't going to give into. Not yet, anyway. Gently, she eased back, her hands flat against his chest to make a little intimate space between them as she regained her breath. "Did I just make it a lot harder to behave during dinner?"

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:54 EST
He drew a slow breath as their lips parted and she eased away from him, not quite out of arms' reach, but far enough that he sensed the moment and the opportunity had passed....Unless he persisted, but he was too much of a gentleman for that. "Not to behave, but to wait," he replied, as honestly as he could. "They say that the best things in life are worth waiting for." At that moment, he could think of nothing more worth waiting for than her.

She giggled softly, finally managing to extract herself entirely. "Well, I had to do something to make up for my cooking, didn't I?" Whether she was being self-deprecating or brutally honest would be down to his taste-buds, but she was getting it in there quick just in case. A last sweep of her thumb over his lips, and she turned away again, setting the daisies into the vase with a teasing glance over her shoulder. "You could, uh, put those on the table, if you like. Or dry hump me while I'm at the wok. I promise, I won't judge."

"I'm sure your cooking is fine," he replied with a warm smile as she disentangled herself from his embrace. "And if it's not, we'll order out," he added helpfully as an afterthought, touched by the gentle caress against his lips. His smile softened momentarily at that touch before she turned away again to set the flowers in a vase. "I can do that," he said in answer to her suggestion that he move the vase to the table, chuckling as she continued, a little bit shocked by her teasing. "I think I'll wait. Dry humping tends to be messy for at least one of the individuals involved." He didn't say which as it seemed rather obvious.

"Not if you do it naked," she pointed out with a grin, finally paying attention to what her hands were doing as she lit the hob. Okay, enough with the teasing. You're gonna scare him off. Drawing in a slow breath to calm herself down, Beth tossed the marinaded duck into the wok to brown, licking the honey from her fingers once again. "This is gonna sound all kinds of domesticated, but how was work?"

"It would still be messy for someone, not to mention distracting," he pointed out with a smile. It wasn't that he was trying to push her away or discourage her desire for sex, but he was hoping for something a little more romantic the first time around. "Work was work," he replied as he took the vase to the table as requested, setting it in the center, before making his way back to take a lean against the sink and watch her cook. It was a small apartment with a small kitchen - cozy, a realtor would probably call it - but comfortable and big enough for one or maybe two to move about comfortably without tripping over each other. He smirked as a thought came to mind at her question. "Mind if I watch you wok?"

She giggled, the immediacy of the sexual side of their shared tension easing down as they moved away from the physical closeness and into something a little more restrained. "Feel free," she told him warmly, agitating the wok with one practiced hand as the other groped for her spatula. "So have you ever had duck" It can be a little dry, but I'm kinda hoping the marinade will have sorted that out."

"Nope," he replied, reaching over to snag a bit of carrot and pop it into his mouth with a grin and a crunch. "This will be a first, but no pressure!" It wasn't that he'd never had stir fry before, but he'd never had it made with duck before. "How about you?" he asked, turning her question about work back around on her. "How was your weekend at the office?" Office being a euphemism for hospital.

She rolled her eyes at his carrot thievery, but laughed, shaking her head as she threw snap peas and the rest of the sliced carrot into the wok with the duck. "You want honesty, or politeness?" she countered cheerfully, and immediately disregarded her own question to offer up the honesty. "Saturday was hell on toast. They got backed up on Friday night, and we were still dealing with it Saturday afternoon. But Sunday was cool, calmer than it could have been. No fatal stabbings or shootings this weekend, so that's a plus." And don't go into detail, it's a guarantee for destroying his appetite.

"Hell on toast. That's an interesting way to put it," he replied as he reached for a pea and snapped it in half before chomping on it. He was either hungry or was just having fun stealing her veggies. If she thought talking about the ER was going to ruin his appetite, she was wrong. He was a homicide detective, after all. Discussing his job would be more likely to upset her than the other way around. "It'll get worse as the summer goes on. It always does," he remarked with a frown, knowing from statistics and past experience that the number of violent crimes usually rose with the heat index.

"Oh, believe me, I know," she smirked faintly, smacking his hand lightly as he stole another of the veggies. "You're goin' the right way to being denied dessert, you know ....Anyway, I know how it goes. But one bad experience a couple of years ago guarantees that I will never have to work another night shift while I'm at the General, so I don't have to deal with the worst violence anymore. Just, you know, the blood and guts." She grinned, deliberately making light of the horrors of her workplace. He had to know what she was talking about, after all.

"I can imagine," he commiserated, able to do a lot more than imagine what horrors she'd have to put up with while working the night shift. The nights he was on call were proof enough. He wondered if they'd ever worked any of the same cases, from opposite sides, but he wasn't there to talk shop, at least not as far as comparing notes went. "So, what made you pick the ER" Or is that just where you ended up?" he asked, refraining from any more veggie stealing for the moment.

Shaking the wok, Beth glanced at him with a faint smile on her face, appreciating the way he deftly softened the topic of conversation. A moment later, the wok sizzled as beansprouts and soy sauce joined the meat and veg in the mix, sending up a cloud of fragrant steam. "I didn't really pick the ER," she admitted with a quiet chuckle. "I worked a surgical ward for a while after I qualified, and I ended up on the crash team through ill-advised volunteering -" She laughed at that comment on her own career. "When the job came up, it was a senior position, and I thought I was ready." She shrugged, casting a new smile toward him. "How'd you end up homicidal?"

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:54 EST
He mirrored her shrug, as if making as light of his job as she was hers. Both jobs were stressful, to say the least, and they both knew it. It was something they both had in common and something so few people who didn't deal with violent crime on a daily basis could really relate to or understand. "I was a beat cop for a while, like my Dad. Rode in a squad car for a few years, but..." He paused a moment as if he was unsure if he wanted to continue. "My partner was killed in a shooting. Bank robbery that turned violent. I took some time off and found I didn't really want to break in a new partner or ride around in a squad car anymore, so I became a detective." Simple as that, but not really so simple.

Her smile gentled, understanding a little of what it was to lose someone to the violence of their respective workplaces. Her hand paused in reaching toward the noodles and sauce, lifting to gently brush her knuckles against his cheek. "Everything leads you somewhere," she mused softly, dropping her hand back into the motions of cooking once again. "Uh, this is almost done. You want chopsticks or a fork?"

He met her gaze for an instant, something in his eyes that reflected the grief and guilt he still felt over that loss, though he said nothing of it. It had been years ago, and he'd mostly put it to rest, but every now and then it reared its ugly head, if only momentarily. He drew a little comfort from her touch and crammed the demons back into the closet for a little while, a smile touching his lips. "You know how to use chopsticks?" he asked, curiously.

She'd seen that moment of ugliness, the grief and guilt and memory that had shown itself before he'd pushed it away once again. I know that feeling. His curious query made her snicker, though. "Uh ....that depends on what you mean by using chopsticks," she giggled cheerfully. "I'm a master at the stab-and-stuff technique."

"I could give you a lesson," he volunteered with a grin, apparently feeling he was good enough with a pair of chopsticks to teach someone else how to use them. "Anything I can help with?" he asked further, looking around to see if the table needed setting or drinks needed pouring.

"I'm sure there's plenty of things you could teach me, but let's start with chopsticks, huh?" There it is. Comfortable again. Her smile deepened, warm and wide and happy with how easy the atmosphere had become again between them. Shaking the wok again, she glanced at him. "Uh, there's beer in the fridge," she told him. "You get to name your reward if you get one for me, too."

"How about a dry hump while I'm doing the dishes?" he asked with a smirk, tit for tat for her earlier taunt. Over to the fridge he went to search for a couple of beers, trying not to be too nosy as he looked inside her fridge. You could tell a lot of things about a person from the contents of their refrigerator. Maybe it was because he was a cop, but he tended to notice more details than most - little clues that helped him to know things about people without them having to tell him.

"You're on," she laughed, moving to serve the stir fry into a pair of square bowls snagged from the overhead cupboard. Her fridge wasn't an essay into her life, but there were a few clues there - fresh fruit and vegetables, eggs, beer, one lonely-looking TV dinner, milk that was out of date and looked as though it hadn't been used more than once in any case. And the little chocolate cheesecake she'd made earlier in the day for their dessert. "I might save it for another day, though. I wouldn't make you do the dishes your first night here."

He quickly assessed the contents of her fridge, which told him right off the bat that: a.) She didn't like to cook for herself; b.) She tried to eat healthy; and c.) She was a chocoholic, like him. It was certainly not an exact science, but he gleaned at least a few possibly clues about her life, as he snagged two beers. The cheesecake looked good, anyway. If she ever looked into his fridge, she might find it didn't look so very different from hers. "Who said anything about making me" I volunteered." He twisted the top off one beer and then the other and tossed the caps in the trash.

"Well, we'll see what happens." She shrugged, dropping the wok into the sink to soak before picking up the two bowls, chopsticks twisted strategically into the tie at the neck of her dress. "Shall we?" A little jerk of her head offered a clue as to where her table was, jammed up against the window at the far end of the living space, two places set. Her apartment didn't offer much in the way of entertainment - no T.V., no stereo, no radio. If she had a computer, it was either in a drawer or in the bedroom. What she did have was an entire wall's worth of bookshelves, overfilled with a variety of different genres, both fictional and non.

So, there was another clue into her personality - she liked to read. He knew that already from a previous conversation with her, but he hadn't known to what extent, until now. He said nothing about it, however, as he followed her to the table and set the beers down, one in front of each plate. Once that was done, he reached for the plates to alleviate her of her burden and set them on the table as well. "It smells great!" he told her, honestly and eagerly, as his stomach growled loudly, giving his hunger away.

"Thank you." The compliment to her cooking before he'd even tasted it was enough to bring a healthy flush to her cheeks as she untangled the chopsticks from her neckline, though it was more likely the gentlemanly act of taking the plates from her that did it. "I hope you still think so after you've tasted it." The places she'd set were either side of a corner - not so close as to be too distracting, and not far enough away to cool things down. And thankfully not too far away for chopstick lessons.

Once the plates were on the table, he pulled out a chair for her and waited for her to settle herself before taking a seat for himself. He paused again, as if waiting for a cue from her as to when the chopsticks lesson should start. He'd noticed she wore a small silver cross around her neck and wondered if she was religious or would like to say grace. They'd shared two meals already so far without it, but they'd been out then, not sharing a meal in the privacy of her home. "Do you want to say grace?" he asked, uncertainly. The question, as innocent as it was meant, had the potential to open yet another worm-can.

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:55 EST
If he thought the question of grace would open a worm-can, that was nothing to what would happen if he mentioned her cross. As it was, Beth smiled a little uncertainly, unsure if he wanted to say it or not. "Actually, I'm not all that religious," she admitted as they sat, taking a sip from her beer. "Working on the front line, you either have faith or you don't. I don't." She shook her head, her smile without judgement. "But, uh, I don't mind if you do. I wouldn't dream of stopping you."

"Says the woman who believes in fairies," he pointed out with a smile, picking up his bottle of beer to tap it against hers. "Cheers," he told her, somewhat relieved she wasn't overly religious, as neither was he. Like her, he saw too much crap on a daily basis to give much credence to religious doctrine. He smiled as something he learned as a boy came to mind, "Rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub."

She laughed at his version of grace, tapping her bottle to his. "Hear, hear." A slow sip later, and she was examining her chopsticks thoughtfully. This could be mildly humiliating. "Okay, handsome, time to teach me something new before I starve or jump you." Bare toes touched his calf as though reinforcing the two options as she smirked impishly.

"It would be a shame for all this food to go to waste," he replied, with that amused gleam in his eyes again as he felt her bare toes against his leg. "Show me your technique, Sparky," he said as he picked up his own set of chopsticks.

"That's the joy of stir fry noodles ....reheatable," she teased laughingly, enjoying how relaxed he seemed. It was rare that anyone could enter someone's personal space and just be themselves as easily as Jason seemed to have done, encouraging Beth toward hopeful thoughts that extended beyond tomorrow morning. "Sure you wanna see this?" Snorting with laughter, she dropped one of the chopsticks and stabbed the end of the other firmly into a piece of duck. It stuck until it was halfway to her mouth before sliding off and dropping into the bowl once again.

His mouth dropped open for a moment and then, unable to help himself, he burst into a fit of laughter. "You weren't kidding when you said stab and stuff." He wondered why she'd even suggested chopsticks if she didn't know how to use them properly, but he didn't ask.

His laughter was exactly what she'd been going for, more than prepared to embarrass herself to lighten any hint of tension that still lingered following her somewhat premature intimacy before she'd begun cooking. "What, you think there's a better way to do this?" she grinned teasingly, stabbing again. This time she got a snap pea to stay on the end of the stick right up to her mouth before it dropped off a moment before her lips closed on it.

"Yeah, in your case, it's called a fork," he teased back, but he had promised to teach her to use chopsticks, and that's exactly what he intended to do. He laid his own set down and reached for her hand, retrieving the dropped piece of wood and placing it, along with the other, between her fingers as they should be. Leaning close, he closed his hand around hers to guide her fingers toward her bowl of food catch a bit of duck between the two slender pieces of wood.

Giggling, she let him manipulate her fingers around the chopsticks, paying more attention to the animation of his face than what he was attempting to teach her. His hand felt warm around hers, the sensation welcome and more attractive than she should really have admitted to herself, her gaze playing over his face when he wasn't looking. "You know, you're never gonna taste this if you get stuck feeding me," she commented playfully.

"Hush and pay attention," he scolded without malice, darting a glance at her to find her watching him instead of what he was trying to teach her. "Chopsticks, Padawan," he reminded her. "Watch the Master." He guided her hand to bring that hunk of meat stuck between the sticks to her mouth successfully.

Caught, Beth laughed again, lowering her gaze to the wrap of his hand about hers. "Oh, yes, Master," she breathed teasingly, opening her mouth with the obedience of a particularly cheeky child to be fed that strip of duck by a combination of their hands. "Thank you, Master. Your turn now."

He rolled his eyes at her cheekiness. "You are the only person I know who can turn using chopsticks into some sexual innuendo." Whether that had been her intention or not didn't matter. "Oh, why, thank you, Grasshopper," he quipped, drawing his hand away and taking up his own pair of chopsticks, as easily as if he'd been born using them. He took up a bit of noodle, leaning in as he drew them to his mouth and slurped them up.

"Like you didn't enjoy it," she snorted, and then revealed something that proved just how cheeky she was. The next mouthful went from the bowl to her mouth with perfect technique, smiling lips completely undermined by the wicked innocence in her gaze as she winked at him. "You're an excellent teacher."

He narrowed his eyes at her as he chewed that bit of noodle, completely duped by her presumed inability to use chopsticks. "Faker," he said, feigning annoyance, though he was nothing of the kind. "I see how it is. You did that on purpose just to get me to show you." Though he wasn't quite sure why.

"Yup," she grinned, that unrepentant look surprisingly inoffensive on her face as they ate. She wasn't going to tell him why she'd done it; he was just going to have to work that one out for himself. "So what do you think" Is duck your kind of meat, or should I go with chicken next time?" She nearly groaned at her own assumption. What, are you going to ask him what month he'd like the wedding in next' Quit with the clingy!

"I think dinner's at my place next time," he told her, instead of answering her question honestly. Had he, he would have admitted that he preferred chicken but that he didn't mind the duck. He thought nothing of her question, assuming at this point that he had passed the test and there would be further dates, though the night was not over yet.

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:56 EST
In all honesty, Beth preferred chicken too, but she was attempting to make a good impression tonight, and that meant something a little fancier. It was a little dry, as she'd predicted, but at least nothing was overdone or too strong in flavor. Whatever points she lost on the main course, she'd make back on dessert. She was very confident in her ability with chocolate. "I nearly called you on Saturday," she confessed as they ate. "I was having a bad day, and I ....well, I wanted to see you. But I thought that might have been a bit needy." She chuckled at her own words, glancing at him from beneath her lashes to see his reaction to this.

"Why didn't you?" he asked, arching a brow as he took up another bite of the stir fry, this time mostly made up of duck and vegetables. He thought back to Saturday and remembered that he'd put in extra hours on the Nicoletti case, in part to take his mind off of her, in part just because it needed working on. He hadn't told her yet that he was involved in that, though the case was all over the news and in the papers. Instead of laughing at her, his expression turned serious, sympathetic even. "You can call me whenever you want. So what if it's needy' Everyone needs someone to listen now and then."

She paused, considering her answer, touched by how quickly he'd offered her his time. "You might regret telling me that," she warned quietly, her tone wry beneath serious eyes that smiled at him without needing the expression to manifest on her face. "I don't really know why I didn't call. I guess I didn't want to assume that-that you'd be thinking about me." She looked down at her food, a little shy of what she was about to say. "I haven't stopped thinking about you, that's for sure."

He listened quietly, his head turned toward her, his chopsticks hovering over his bowl unused for the moment, while he gave her his full attention, noting how she looked away from him almost shyly as she offered that admission. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to stay away' To not think up some excuse to visit you? I considered a half dozen reasons before talking myself out of it," he said, admitting how much she'd been on his mind, as well over the last few days.

Her eyes rose to his, her smile intimate, just for him. "You could have come over anytime," she told him softly. "I can't see a time when you'd ever be unwelcome." She felt just a little silly for having talked herself out of calling him now, aware that he wouldn't have minded. Get his address before he leaves, her subconscious prodded her. Dropping over to his is not such a big deal! "You shouldn't look at me like that," she added in a gentle murmur, that smile never fading. "We won't make it to dessert if you do."

"And here I thought you were dessert," he said with a smile through the tease that was in part serious. "I'll try to remember that next time," he continued, remarking on what seemed an open invitation to join her whenever he so wished, though he was far too much a gentleman to drop in on her unannounced or unexpectedly, at least for now. "We should finish dinner or we won't have the energy for the next course." Now, it seemed from the gleam in his eyes that he was teasing.

"Anytime," she reaffirmed her offer more confidently, her smile deepening once again as he teased her. "You're probably right." Beth sighed, the sound exaggerated as his tease was reflected back at him from her eyes. "Unless you wanna keep the chocolate for a midnight snack." Snickering quietly, she turned her attention back to her food, chasing noodles with her chopsticks as that recalcitrant foot of hers stroked against his ankle. She just didn't seem to be able to keep herself from touching him one way or the other.

He was well aware of her playing footsie with his bare ankle as evidenced by the smirk he was trying to hide as he went back to scooping up noodle mixture and carrying it to his mouth. "I'm not opposed to a midnight snack." Presuming he was still here at midnight. She had instructed him to bring a toothbrush along, and he had packed an overnight back just in case, but he'd left it in his car, not wanting to make any undue assumptions. He had learned once too often not to count his chickens before they were hatched. He would wait and see how the evening progressed, but so far, things were looking hopeful. "Beth..." he started, as a thought came to mind. "I assume you've talked to Miranda by now."

Should have seen that one coming. Her smile relaxed from its teasing curve as he mentioned her mother, the warm fondness she felt for the most important person in her life obvious in her expression. "Yeah, we had lunch today," she told him, studying him as she spoke. She knew his reaction to Miranda's reaction was just as important. "She's not thrilled, but ....she gave us her blessing. I guess it'll just take time to get used to, right?"

A small frown made itself known on his face, thoughtful and a little bit worried. He felt both relieved that they no longer had to keep their relationship a secret and unsure if Miranda would be true to her word. He knew how close the two of them were, and he knew there was nothing that could come between them, including himself. "What if she changes her mind" I..." He broke off, not wanting to make her choose sides, even if it meant never seeing her again. He turned back to his stirfry to idly push a few noodles around on his plate. He was not one to succumb to melancholy very often or for long, but the thought of being alone again was almost too much to bear.

Beth stilled, turning her full attention to him as he hesitated and broke off, seeing the frown for what it was. It was heartening to realize that he was as concerned about not being with her as she was about not being with him, but here, at least, she knew she could reassure him. "She wouldn't do that," she told him gently. "The only way she'd change her mind is if I got hurt, and ....and I don't think you're gonna hurt me, not intentionally. I've been on my own too long for her to want to stop something from happening, and, well, she likes you, Jason. She approves of you. She must do, or she wouldn't have teased me so mercilessly over coffee."

There went that single arched brow again, a little surprised that Miranda both liked and approved of him, but not so surprised that she'd teased Beth about him. He rolled his eyes as he imagined just what Miranda might have said. "Do I even want to know?" he asked, knowing Miranda well enough to hazard a guess what the teasing might have been about.

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:58 EST
She giggled softly, tipping up her bowl to chase the last of her noodles onto her chopsticks. "I don't think you do," she assured him through her impish smile, her tongue snaking out to catch a trickle of soy sauce before it painted her chin an interesting color. "Suffice it to say, I don't think I want to know where else she might have gone with it if I hadn't stopped her." And I want to find out if you're ticklish in my own time.

"Did she tell you I have a small dick, or that I suck in bed" Snore" Have performance issues?" He took a few stabs in the dark, looking slightly worried what Miranda might have said, though whatever it was, it hadn't deterred her daughter from going through with the third date.

Beth laughed aloud, laying down her chopsticks to lean over and kiss his cheek. "Easy, hot stuff, she's not that mean," she snickered softly. "Just something about a birthmark." One shoulder rose and fell in a gentle shrug as she settled back in her seat. "And frankly, I don't want my mom to be telling me anything like that. I want to discover all your awesome little secrets for myself."

"Birthmark!" he echoed, with an appalled look on his face, though Miranda's teasing could have been a lot worse. "I don't have a birthmark! That woman is impossible. Did she tell you how we ended up in bed together?" he asked, brows furrowed as he lowered his chopsticks, dinner forgotten for now.

Beth bit her lip, a little wary in the face of his annoyance. "No," she told him quietly. "She didn't tell me anything. Why would she" It doesn't have any bearing on us. Does it?" Her brown eyes met his uncertainly, wondering without even trying to hide it if he really cared that much about Miranda, why he was here with her.

It wasn't that he cared so much about Miranda, except as a friend, but that he cared what she told Bethany about him. "I don't know how she remembers it, but we were both drunk. I hardly remember it. When I woke up the next morning in her bed, I was as surprised as she was."

She nodded, not daring to say anything. The last thing she wanted was to make him angry, or even annoyed, understanding that he was justifiably upset by the thought that Miranda might have shared anything that put him in a bad light. "You don't have to tell me anything about it, you know," she told him quietly. "I don't want to know. It's the past."

"You, of all people, deserves to know. It's not that I don't like her. It's just....It's awkward now. That's all, and I don't want a drunken one night stand to come between what could be a serious relationship with you. Hell, it is serious. I want it to be serious." He trailed off suddenly to chew at his lower lip, looking a bit sheepish about the flood of words that had unexpectedly flowed from his mouth. "Sorry, it's just..." He sighed. "You mean a lot to me, Beth. You're the first woman I've met in a long time that I can say that about, and I don't want anything ruining it."

The uncertainty on her face faded as he spoke, the flood of words that left him sheepish more reassuring than he might have thought it would be. It is serious. It's not just me. "You-you're not alone in feeling that way," she assured him gently. "That's why I don't know want to know what happened with anyone else. I want to focus on you, and ....and what we're building here, together. I know it's gonna be awkward, but it'll take time. I understand that. Really, I do."

It took him a moment to absorb what she said, her words reassuring him a little, though he didn't quite catch on to her meaning regarding the seriousness of their relationship. "So, what do we do about it?" he asked, unable to erase the past. What had happened happened. There was no taking it back now. "Is that why she didn't call me back?" he asked. He'd left several messages for her regarding Desmond, but he'd never received a call back.

"I don't know." And it was true, she didn't. She didn't know why her mother did some things but not others. "She's been in Rhy'Din over the weekend, maybe she'll call you tomorrow." She hesitated, not really knowing what she could say to reassure him over this. "I don't know what?s going on. Mom won't tell me, and I don't want to ask you, because it's not my business. But I can't help, either, and I guess that's frustrating."

"I don't really want you involved in it, and I'm sure Miranda doesn't either." He broke off again, as if debating with his conscience about how much to tell her. He wasn't really supposed to discuss it with anyone who wasn't involved in it, but he needed her to know that it was serious stuff and that it was important that he kept the lines of communication open between himself and Desmond. At the moment, Miranda was the only link between them. "It has to do with the Nicoletti case. That's really all I can tell you."

"I'm not asking you to tell me, Jason." Her hand gently closed over his as he wrestled with himself over what he could and couldn't tell her. Her face paled a little as he mentioned the Nicoletti case, knowing it was that case which had got Des stabbed and almost killed in the first place. The case that was due to be tried in federal court before the end of August. But she understood now his concerns about Miranda's lack of communication. "You need to trust me on this, but Mom wouldn't just stop talking to you over me. Some things are more important, and this case, keeping you in contact with Des, that is so much more important than anything that involves me."

He drew comfort from her touch as from her reassuring words, frowning a little as he let her see a side of him he didn't really want her to see, but he was only human - he couldn't always wear a smile on his face. "This case is starting to wear on me," he admitted, alluding to the reason behind his long days and sometimes sleepless nights. "I really wanna nail this bastard. I need to nail this bastard. Not just because of Des. The city will be a safer place with him behind bars."

"It's gone on for a long time," she nodded, appreciating that he was opening up to her like this, even if it was borne out of annoyance with the uncomfortable triangle he made with herself and her mother. "But isn't that a good thing? I mean, the D.A.'s office have been compiling their case for months, and they must have had evidence before he was ever arrested. Unless the jury get completely intimidated, which they'd never let happen, even I can't see him getting off this time, and I know nothing about the legal system."

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 07:58 EST
"Yeah, but..." He sighed, unsure if he really wanted to bring the office into their relationship, though she had already dropped a hint that she'd had a rough weekend and could have used someone to talk to. Wasn't that supposed to work both ways" "We were going to offer him a deal, but he refused. It's his father we really want. Seems he's just as scared of the old man as everyone else is."

She frowned gently. "But getting him puts a chink in the old man's armor," she offered hopefully. "He's gotta be attached to the guy a little bit, he's been openly protecting him for years." See, she did follow the news from time to time. Perhaps a third date wasn't the best time to bring such worries into the open, but she didn't mind. She was glad he felt comfortable enough to worry with her. This feels like a relationship that's been going longer than one weekend. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," he said, reaching for his beer, not really feeling like finishing his stir fry. "I shouldn't have even told you that much. Your mom is only involved so far as being go-between between myself and Desmond. As far as everyone else is concerned, Des is dead, and I have to make sure it stays that way for a while." He tipped his beer back for a swallow. "Bet you wish I hadn't told you."

"No, I don't." The corner of her mouth ticked upward in a lopsided smile, her hand releasing his to gently caress her knuckles against his cheek once again. "I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me. I just hope I'm worthy of the trust you put in me to say even that much. It won't go any further, baby, I promise." The endearment fell unnoticed from her lips, feeling too natural to make a fuss of as she smiled at him fondly, understanding that the conversation had robbed him of his appetite. "Would chocolate make it better?"

He smiled faintly back at her, catching the endearment that fell so easily from her lips and which warmed his heart more than he was willing to admit. "No, but I can think of something else that might." And with that little bit of warning out of the way, he lifted a hand to touch her cheek and leaned close to touch a kiss to her lips, softly, warmly, intimately. Her kisses were so much better than any dessert, chocolate or otherwise.

She hadn't expected him to take her offer and turn it into a kiss, but there was no objection from the soft lips that moved beneath his. There had been a moment there when she had thought she might have been on top of the desire for him that had been uncoiling deep inside since she'd first clapped eyes on him on Friday morning, but that thought was swept aside as he kissed her this time. Her lips curved in a gentle smile as she felt the unexpected intimacy wash over her, the food forgotten as she inched closer, pouring affectionate intimacy back into him as she turned his kiss back onto him, her fingers creeping to his cheek in answer.

He wasn't the most romantic guy in the world, nor was he the greatest lover, but what he did have going for him was passion and sensitivity and honesty, and at that moment, those three traits came together in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. He pulled away briefly, blue eyes gazing into brown, and suddenly nothing else mattered but her. "How long into the third date do we have to wait?" he asked, a little breathless but trying to control his desire.

She lingered close to him, lit up like a fizzing Christmas tree from the inside out just from a single kiss. Her eyes were slow to open; every nerve ending screaming out that if she didn't grab the opportunity this time, her heart would never forgive her. "It's your rule," she murmured, her smile entirely his, warm and intimate, promising a lot more than just a smile as she looked into his eyes. "But I don't want to wait anymore."

It was pretty obvious from the look in his eyes that he didn't want to wait anymore either, but to him, it wasn't that simple. To most men and even some women, it might not be a big deal, but to Jason it was. It meant taking the next step in their relationship and it was a big step. There was no turning back from there. He touched his fingers lightly to her cheek to drift through her hair. He was clearly afraid of something, but if he didn't take the next step and put his trust in her, he might live to regret it. "It's either that or you feed me cheesecake and show me your book collection," he teased with a smile.

The thought of that made her smile deepen at his tease, a soft giggle making itself known between them even as she felt herself purring deep inside at the gentle caress of his hand through her hair. "We can do that later," she promised him, nervous and eager in the same motion as she moved to her feet, her hands tangling with his to draw him up with her. There was something young and old and timeless in her eyes, that particular look that hinted toward something more than just attraction, more than mere affection. "You sure?" she heard herself ask as she backed slowly through her narrow living room toward the door that stood open into the bedroom. Please be sure.

He was sure that he wanted her, sure that he felt an attraction toward her, sure that he was slowly falling in love with her. What he wasn't so sure about was whether she would have any regrets come morning. "I'm sure if you're sure," he told her, leaving the decision ultimately up to her. They'd been dancing around this issue practically since the first day they'd laid eyes on each other. There was no denying they wanted each other, so what was he so afraid of?

Her answer didn't come until they stood in the doorway of her bedroom. The point of no return. Her hands released his, teasing her fingertips up over his arms as she stepped close, curling her arms about his neck as she rose up onto her toes to kiss him again, just as slow, just as tender, just as wanting, trembling with the anticipation of what was mere moments away. "I'm sure," she promised him in a low breath against his lips, drawing her fingers through his hair. "God, I'm so sure, I think I'm going to burst -" She cut herself off as her lips covered his, fervent and demanding, forgetting to be gentle, to give him time to make his decision, to lead the way. She wanted him, and she was more than prepared to make a fool of herself to have him, too.

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 08:00 EST
He let her lead him to the bedroom, her lips touching his, wanting her as much as she wanted him. His kisses deepened, becoming more demanding the closer they got to the bedroom, on the brink of letting himself go and losing the meager hold he had on his passion. "I want you," he told her between breathless kisses, ignoring all the warnings that were going off in his head, that told him he was taking a risk. He knew he was in danger of losing his heart, but if they were to somehow fall in love, the reward would far outweigh the risk.

"I want you," was her whispered answer, a confession offered up amid passionate kisses that took her breath away as she gave herself up to the feeling of falling. It had been so long since she'd felt even a fraction of this, Beth found herself afraid to stop, afraid not to take the risk, in case she lost this feeling and never recaptured it again. I could love you, her heart screamed as she kissed him. So easily. Let me love you. Caught in that feeling, in the urgent immediacy of him so close, so wanting, she gave herself no chance to rethink, to talk herself out of it. Her hands slipped from his shoulders, pouring trickling fingertips down his chest to tenderly slip beneath, finally allowing herself to touch him the way she had been itching to touch for days.

He heard himself groan at her touch - a touch that should have been innocent enough but that somehow set his body on fire in a way that shocked and surprised him with the intensity of it. Though he could not know her thoughts, he was feeling the same. Of all the women he'd ever met, ever dated, ever slept with, ever loved, the passion - the connection - he felt with this one woman made all the others pale by comparison. No one compared; no one even came close, not even the one woman who he was worried might inevitably come between them. Despite wanting her to take the lead, he steered her past the doorway and into the bedroom, closer and closer to the point of no return.

Steered toward her own bed, Beth didn't spare a thought for how the dynamic had changed between them, how he had taken the lead, except to thrill to the feeling of being entirely in his power, unafraid of letting it happen without protest. Her fingers skimmed his skin, drawing his t-shirt upward, urging his arms to rise and let her strip that first layer from between them. She wanted to touch him, kiss him, taste him, imprint herself indelibly on him until he had no chance of ever forgetting her, no matter what happened.

She had already made such an impression that there was very little chance of him ever forgetting her, no matter what else transpired between them. He felt like they were on the cusp of something that was bigger than just the two of them, like they were part of some grand cosmic plan that had brought the two of them together. He threw off his shirt, as anxious to be rid of it as she was, kissing her quite thoroughly again and again. No sloppy urgent kisses were these but the impassioned kisses of a mature lover, of one whose heart was on fire for the object of his desire.

She barely had a moment to even look before his lips were on hers again and again, teasing her, warming her, fulfilling something deep inside her that she hadn't even known was needful. She'd never been with anyone like Jason; someone who knew what he wanted, and once the gloves were off, went after it with such deep focus of his entire being. He felt wonderful under her hands, hot and firm, each touch bringing something new to learn about him as she stumbled over her feet, drawing him ever closer toward the bed and the inevitable, inexorable conclusion they had both been wanting for what seemed a small eternity.

He stepped out of his shoes, leaving them haphazardly on the floor, along with his shirt, starting a trail of discarded clothing that led toward the bed as his fingers found the laces at the front of her dress and tugged them loose. He pulled away from her lips for just a moment to take a breath and to admire the beauty he was slowly unwrapping. No more words were needed. They were both in agreement, both knowing what they wanted from the other. He slowly drew a finger against her skin, just above the swell of her chest, easing the fabric away so that his eyes could feast on her before he allowed the same from his lips.

The atmosphere had changed again, from tender to fervent and back to tenderly expectant once again. She gazed up at him, her chest heaving as she fought her own breathlessness for some kind of control, feeling suddenly like a virginal teenager as his fingers undid the lace at her neck, as his touch skimmed beneath her clavicle, sending a flush to turn her flesh rosy pink with desire. She bit her lip hard, making no effort to stifle the moan that bubbled from her chest as her hands slipped to his hips, flexing tight and loose, caught for a long moment in suspense without motion.

He was in a hurry and yet wanted to take his time with her, to savor every precious, sacred moment of their first time together. He felt her tremble at his touch, heard her moan with pleasure, and they had hardly even gotten started. She was like an violin, and he was the maestro, playing her body like a master musician, though he thought little of his own skills with a woman. He dipped his head to leave a trail of soft kisses against her neck as his hands deftly drew the cloth away from her shoulders, his kisses following the line of her neck, down along a bare shoulder.

The loose cloth of her dress fell easily from her shoulders, bunching about her hips as she drew her arms free to touch him once again. Her breath was hot against his ear as his lips found purchase against her neck, along the line of her shoulder, the heat laced with another moan that was barely audible as she curled her fingers to his neck, the other hand drawing her fingertips down his spine. Parted lips found the crook of his neck and shoulder, lavishing hungry, tender kisses against his skin as she trembled for him, his name a ghost on her breath as she pressed close.

Whatever it was that Miranda had teased her daughter about, so far there was no visible blemish to mar her lover's skin, not even a scar but for some small faded mark here or there, which seemed perfectly normal. As for her, no one was perfect, but Jason believed no one came so close to perfect as the woman in his arms. Tender kisses grazed flesh on both sides, before he grew hungry for more. He reached around to relieve her of yet another bit of clothing that was keeping her from him, his lips never leaving her flesh, only drifting elsewhere to explore further as his hands did the same.

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 08:00 EST
Nerves flared in her as she felt the gentle tug of a clasp undone at her back, given no chance to dwell on the feeling before he had her distracted once again. The only mark that might have marred her skin was a small scar on her belly that no doubt had a story behind it, but was easily forgotten as she shook fabric to the floor, a shimmy of hips dropping the dress to pool about her feet as she leaned into him tenderly. Perfect doesn't even begin to scratch the surface. Her fingers found the fastening of his pants, eager to have him bare to her, yet patient enough to take her time, to savor this first time, as her lips brushed against his skin heatedly.

Still standing, he had not yet led her toward the bed, too intent on exploring her, discovering her, learning her in every way that he could until he could wait no longer. At last, he steered her toward the bed and laid her back upon it, fingers grazing her hips as he divested her of the last bit of covering that hid her from him. His eyes wandered over her for a moment, admiring her beauty, every hill and valley that made up her curves, the heat of his own desire rising like a fever as he went about exploring the rest of her, tasting her, touching her, his senses filled with everything that was Bethany Granger.

Lying there alone, without the immediacy of his heat close to hers, she felt a moment of vulnerability, as though every last part of her, every secret, every wish, was exposed to his feverish gaze. No one had ever made her feel so open and raw with a single look, her heart unafraid to be seen in that moment, showing him the longing not just for more, but for him, in every aspect of her life. Her hands reached for him as he touched and tasted, her writhing frame growing impatient for more with each second that passed until she ran out of patience entirely, sharing her smile with a kiss as she made to wrestle him onto his back. "My turn," she breathed against his lips, inching down in an exploration of her own, warm hands easing the last of his clothing from him in the process.

He was equally surprised and unsurprised as the tables were turned and he found himself at her mercy. It was his turn to tremble and shudder and moan at her every touch, every kiss, every small bit of attention she paid him. He was more than ready for her, eager to claim her, eager to be one with her, and yet he waited, savoring her exploration of him as she had savored his of her.

There were so many things to learn, so many parts that made up the whole. What he liked, what he loved, where he wanted her to go, how he wanted her to touch ....yet they all ran together into simply learning him the way she had been wanting to since he'd spat coffee in her direction just a few days before. His patience was rewarded time and time again with unhurried, unstudied affection lavished on him with hands, and lips, and tongue, until finally she ran out of patience of her own. Braced against the bed, the tips of her hair brushing against his shoulder as she shared that intimate smile with him once again, she took him into herself, once more breathing his name in a tender ghost of breath that shuddered along with her.

Everything about her was new to him, fresh as a summer morning. He was as eager to learn her as she was to learn him, memorizing every sigh of breath, every moan, every taste, every touch - everything that was Bethany. His Bethany, for she belonged to him now, whether she knew it or not, and in those few precious moments when all the barriers fell away, he opened his heart to her and invited her in, hopeful and heartfelt. He echoed her sigh of breath, her name a whispered plea upon his lips as she took him into herself, and he thought he had gone to heaven.

He'd had her almost from hello, it seemed, and though she might not know it yet, she was his, unabashedly belonging without a second thought to a man she might not ever have met if she hadn't been in someone else's apartment at exactly the right time. Moving with him was a joy, a straight line to heaven as she leaned over him, her lips plying his with breathless kisses. So many firsts in a single evening, and the night had still barely even begun. Her heart ached to open up to him, to share everything in these few minutes of absolute vulnerability as she tasted him all over again, tender and eager and never letting go.

He let her do as she wished, making no demands, as happy to be seduced as to do the seducing, an equal partner in all ways possible. He returned her kisses, fervently and feverishly, holding her close in a lover's embrace of tangled arms and legs as their love reached fever pitch, rising to a crescendo of heavenly pleasure more intense than any he'd ever before known.

Wrapped up in his arms, she found that cresting peak close alongside him, his name a prayer on her lips as she kissed him in the sweet tremble of tangled limbs and hammering hearts. It had been a long time since she'd felt this way about anyone, nestling close long after they'd found their pleasure in each other, brushing her lips tenderly down the line of his neck as her body relaxed with his. Too soon, but I'm falling. Catch me. Fingertips gently traced his cheek as she raised her head, looking down at him with an awestruck smile. "Wow."

He turned quiet as he held her in the tender circle of his arms, basking in the afterglow of their love, his body still echoing with warmth and pleasure, heart slowing from its hammering race. He sighed as her lips touched his neck, her body relaxing to nestle lazily against his. He lifted a hand to push her hair back from her face, his eyes meeting hers, soft and warm with growing affection. It was too soon to tell her he loved her, too soon to even think it, but he knew he was falling hard and fast and completely unexpectedly. He mirrored her smile, just as full of wonder, his fingers tracing her cheek and drifting through her hair. "Wow is an understatement," he admitted quietly.

Her lips, swollen from kisses, curved in a warm smile that seemed even more familiar in the wrap of their newly formed intimacy. "That could make it a little difficult to top, you know," she giggled softly, the tip of her nose nudging his with tender affection. "Have to say, I like your idea of dessert." As her cheek tilted into his touch, her own fingertips trailed down over his chest, reveling in the freedom to touch as she liked. Her brown eyes were solemn as she held his gaze, gentle with affection that wasn't so shy anymore. "This is serious, isn't it?" she asked softly, needing to hear him say it. "I don't want this to be casual, I want ....I want this to last."

Bethany Daly

Date: 2013-07-19 08:03 EST
He felt his heart catch for a moment when she asked that fateful question, for a fraction of a second worried that she didn't feel the same way he did, after all, but then she continued, and the ache he was suddenly feeling in his chest slowly faded. He held her gaze with eyes that were as solemn as hers, but that held something deeper than just wishful thinking, shining with hope that what they had with each other - what was slowly blossoming between them - was something rare and true and beautiful, something to be nourished and cherished and never let go. "It's serious," he assured her, his smile fading so that she would know he was as serious as he claimed. "I think..." He paused, afraid for a moment to tell her what he was feeling, though it seemed she needed to hear it.

She didn't need him to go on, recognizing the fear that showed itself in the midst of his solemn reassurance, drawing her fingers back up over his chest, tracing a tender caress against his cheek. It's too soon to be real, but ... "I think I'm falling, Jason," she whispered hesitantly, not wanting to scare him off, but needing him to know why her heart was lurching, why everything felt so natural with him. "I-I've never felt like this."

He knew she was serious. She had already said so by telling him that she didn't want them to have a casual relationship and that she wanted it to last. He already knew this, and his gut told him she was telling the truth. His heart leaped at her whisper of words, at the hesitant admission that she was falling for him, after only three dates. Could he really be so lucky' Where the hell had she been all his life" "I've never felt like this either." Sure, he thought he'd been in love before, but never like this. Never had it felt so right, so perfect, like they were made for each other. He'd heard of such things happening to other people - to his best friend, even - but he'd never thought it would ever happen to him.

He'd purposely kept himself separate, aloof, knowing his chosen profession didn't bode well for a relationship, and yet, here was someone who understood and who accepted him for who he was, the whole package. "Beth," he started, his fingers cupping her cheek with a loving caress. "Would it scare you if I said I think I'm falling in love with you?"

"No. No, it wouldn't." She didn't even stop to think about her answer, following the leap of her heart in response to those loving words as they spilled from his mouth, her smile rising on her face as she leaned down to him, lips brushing his softly as her fingers caressed his face. "I'll catch you," she promised him, emotion winning out over reason for possibly the first time in her life. "I'm not letting go. Not even if you ever asked me to."

She couldn't know what it cost him to ask that, how afraid he was of her answer, even if he did trust her and believe in her. His arms went around her again as she leaned into him and offered him her lips, returning her kiss with equal warmth and affection. He smiled up at her, deeply touched by the implied promise in her words. "I'd be an idiot to let you get away from me now," he replied back, very much enjoying the way her body fit to his, like two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly made for each other.

"And you're no idiot," she finished that thought with a fond chuckle, her breath warm against his lips as she plied his mouth with kiss after kiss. This is gonna make for interesting conversation with Mom. If I tell her yet. But that thought was cast aside as Jason's arms wound around her, as the feel of him so close, so snug, so possessive rippled through her psyche and taught her new ways to know she was wanted. And someday soon ....loved.

He made no argument there, too busy savoring her kisses again and again, the flame of desire flaring once more to life. Though he made no demands, it was hard to deny the passion that was flaring to life and even harder to hide it. "Beth," he whispered, altogether enraptured in her kisses, in the very presence of her. He knew if they remained tangled together like this much longer, they would end up repeating what had just happened between them, but was that such a bad thing really' His heart was on fire, and his body feverish with desire.

Why had it taken so long for her to meet him, to find this with him' If he'd met her before he'd met Miranda, would this have felt so right' Had she been ready for him, before now" The difference in their ages meant nothing, a decade easy to brush under the rug and forget in the gentle familiarity that was binding them close together as she took his kisses and gave them back, her smile melting into his as he whispered her name. I could listen to you say that all day. Passion and desire and the softer, deeper rise of affection turning slowly to love molded her body to his, urging a restless shift as her hands began to roam once again, unconsciously seeking more, reaffirming in deed what had been shared in words.

What if he had met her before he'd met Miranda" Would he have been ready for her, or had he needed the heartbreak and misunderstanding of that single night to make him understand what it was he truly wanted, what it was that was missing from his life? Whatever the rhyme or the reason, the answers to those questions no longer mattered. He had found her, and from this moment forward, their lives were never going to be the same.

((Well, I know the third date's supposed to make or break a new relationship, but that was pretty intense! Loads of fun, too ....Huge thank yous winging their way to Jason's player, who is awesome!))