Elena jabbed angrily at the elevator button, narrowly missing cracking a painstakingly manicured nail, which only incensed her more. She counted mentally to three, and when the lift doors still refused to open, she turned on her heel and began stomping up the stairs; the force of her foot suggesting that every step had done her a great, personal misdeed. Stupid, idiotic hotel. How on earth had the place earned seven stars when the lift doors wouldn't acquiesce and open conveniently when you wanted to make a dramatic, sweeping exit? Nope, here she was marching up the stairs with the thudding sounds behind her an indication that he wasn't far behind. Stupid, idiotic batsman.
A flurry of panic caused her to turn off the staircase and she sprinted down a brightly lit corridor, until the red and gold streamers adorning the passage brought her to a stop. Crap, she was on the fourth floor. Booked exclusively for the players. She had walked right into his den, hadn't she? Shit. She'd better get out of here fast, before he thought that she'd led up him up here on purpose. Or worse, that she... "Elena," a hand touched her shoulder and she whirled around in fright, the momentary surprise making the toe of her heel catch on the hem of her dress, and with a muttered epithet she crumpled on the floor.
"Elena!" his voice was several octaves louder now. "Are you hurt?" he demanded urgently as he stooped down to inspect her. And just like that, the anger drained out of her, only to be replaced with a more potent emotion that made her palms damp and every pore of her body strum in anticipation. He always did this, didn't he? No matter how mad she was at him, he just had to pull the concerned act and she would just fall at his feet, melt in a happy puddle. This time, quite literally.
Turning a firm deaf ear to the voice in her head that demanded that she tear off his shirt right then and there, she brushed aside his arm and struggled upright. "If you want to apologize, forget it. I think.. " But what exactly she thought she never got round to telling him, for he suddenly hauled her in his arms and backed her until she was trapped against the wall, with his arms pinning her on other side.
"Apologize?" the word was a growl and she quickly looked away, for Damon in a volatile mood made her want to do a whole lot of stupid things. Like lock herself in with him in a closet and not let him out for the next decade. Or more. Definitely more. Her face steaming with the direction her thoughts had taken when she was supposed to be royally pissed off, she blinked and lowered her gaze. Bad move. She was now staring right at the broad, well muscled expanse of his chest. Which just made her want to do a whole lot more stupider things.
"Elena," his voice drummed insistently and he tipped her chin up until she was staring him right in the eyes. "No, I won't apologize," he continued huskily, his Jamaican accent more pronounced than ever. "For dragging you away from Stefan like that. Or from any other guy who strays too close to my girl. And if Stefan comes too close again, he is going to end up with a bloody eye. Captain, be damned" he promised silkily.
Elena nearly stamped her foot in frustration. She couldn't care less about Stefan. The only reason she was flirting up a storm with him was because she was royally pissed off. At those slinky reporters for fawning all over him, and at him for letting them.
Elena tossed her head defiantly, "Gee, too bad. He's invited me to check out his new Merc G55 tomorrow night & I plan to go." "No, you won't," Damon intoned dangerously. "Or else?" she challenged childishly. She was needling him, provoking him, trying to make him feel some of the anguish bubbling inside her. She apparently succeeded, for the next thing she knew, he had hauled her ever closer and was plundering her mouth without mercy. "I don't think this is..." she managed to gasp when he pulled apart, but then he began nipping her lower lip and she lost all coherent thought. The racket they were created was enough to wake the dead and yet decency and decorum were the farthest things from her mind as she stared hungrily at his shirt, the fabric stopping her from devouring him whole. She squirmed against him agitatedly and he sucked in a harsh breath.
'Don't do that," he warned, his breath coming out in sharp bursts. "What... This?" Holding his gaze, her hands deliberately strayed southwards, and the satisfying sound of ripped buttons followed. She had gone too far, tipped him over the edge and the next thing she knew he had hoisted her in his arms, carried her into the room behind them and kicked the door shut.
She sidled down slinkily as he attacked her mouth with a fresh vengeance, her hands continuing their southward journey, discarding everything that came in its path. From his sudden harsh intake of breath, she guessed that most girls just let him do the lading. Well, tough. She was going to give him something to think about next time those blondes came prancing in their high heels.
She matched him every step of the way, unable to hold back her moans as his hands began caressing her over the bodice of her gown. She squirmed, silently pleading him to touch her properly but Damon appeared to playing a game of his own. "Damon, please..." "Please, what? If I remember clearly, you wanted to talk," he flashed her a sinful grin before lowering his head to nuzzle her neck. "Let's talk," he mumbled, still not giving into what she craved the most.
" You better finish what you started or..." "Or what?" he asked wickedly, as without raising his head he nipped her neck hard enough to leave a mark. A burst of sparks shot through her head but it still didn't substitute for what she really wanted. "Or I'll go down this instant and get Stefan to complete what you started," she shot back. His response was a positive growl as he finally caved into her pleas and the dress dissolved beneath his hands at long last.
A fresh shower of fireworks shot through her head at the feel of his mouth on her skin and she moaned her satisfaction, her nails raking deep into his back, daring him to take her then and there. It was a challenge that he rose to wholeheartedly and it was only later after they were both sated that she realised that inspite of being in a fully furnished room, they hadn't even made it as far as the bed.