A/N: Wow! Thanks to all those who have faved, followed and reviewed! I hope you're liking what you're reading. Show me some love now, by reviewing! The cliffhanger is resolved. Sweet lemony goodness in this chapter, too. It won't all be sweetness and light, though, and I'm doing some foreshadowing. Any guesses on what it is? Until then, enjoy the show!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate The Vampire Diaries.

Chapter 4: Sweet Honesty

He grinned at her wide eyes. "So what's it going to be, Miss Gilbert? You choose."

Elena took a deep breath. "Damon, you're putting a lot of pressure on me. And you're the one who made such a production out of saying your house has more than one bedroom." There. That should do it.

Only it didn't. Damon ran his hand up her back. "One of the things that goes along with being what I am is having very, very good hearing. I can hear your heartbeat just racing. And you still haven't answered my question." He kissed her temple and nosed in her hair.

O.K. So he was determined to be obstinate, which she had determined was just part of his personality. "Racing heartbeat or not, you're pressuring me. I am not the kind of woman who just falls into bed with every guy she dates."

"Of course you're not. I never thought you were."

"So please stop trying to convince me to sleep with a man I've had two dates with."

Damon stepped back and Elena could swear he was pouting. "So it's not fear." Maybe the compulsion hadn't been quite strong enough.

"Not at all. I'm not afraid of you, Damon." Even though she probably should be. "And although I know some very interesting facts about you, I don't know you that well. And you don't know me. But I'd like to get to know you. Let's see if we can even be friends, first. That's important to me."

Damon was highly frustrated. Every nerve ending in his body was yelling at him to sweep Elena into his arms, take her into his room, make her want him, take her in every way he could think of. But here she was, talking about being friends and getting to know each other, when he knew damn good and well their bodies were meant for each other. But she said being friends was important to her, and he couldn't steamroll that and hope to see her again. She would run, he knew.

"You're a tough customer, Elena Gilbert," he finally said with that lopsided grin. "Door number one it is. But don't complain in the morning that you got cold in the night, when there was a lonely vampire just across the hall who would be more than willing to keep you warm."

"I'll take the risk," she said, and she smiled at him. "Thank you." She slipped inside the room and closed the door. She reflected as she got ready for bed, how very, very easy it would have been to have slept with Damon. She had wanted to, but knew she wasn't quite ready to take that chance. "Damon Salvatore, you are a man dangerous to my heart," she whispered as she turned down the bed. The man in question was in his room, but still heard the whisper. He didn't know whether to be pleased or upset.

Elena was a little disoriented when she woke. Then, she remembered where she was and how she got there. She lay awake for a while, looking at the ceiling, thinking about Damon and who - and what - he said he was. He was getting under her skin, is what he was doing, and she was letting him do it. She knew he was a dangerous man, but maybe she had been looking for a little danger. She wasn't sure.

She was awake, Damon knew. He heard the change in her breathing and heart beat. Awake, but not out of bed. He had been sitting outside her door for an hour or more, listening to her breathe. Fortunately, he could get away from the door quickly if she approached it. His back was against the wall and he had his wrists propped up on his knees. As he listened to her breath, her heart, he heard her murmuring to herself. "Who are you, Damon Salvatore? Who are you, really?" she whispered. "What is it about you? How do you consistently get around my good sense?" She sighed and then he heard a soft snicker and his ears pricked up again. "It ought to be downright illegal for any man to be as hot as you are. It should be a felony to be that sexy. No woman is safe." She chuckled at her whimsy, and Damon grinned, too. He didn't really need any confirmation that she thought he was hot, but it was nice to know, anyway.

It was after nine, and he knew Elena would be up and hungry, fairly soon. So, he would cook breakfast. He wanted her to know he was more than capable of taking good care of her.

Elena dressed and went downstairs. She could smell something delicious in the air. She went into the kitchen in time to see Damon slide an impossibly fluffy-looking omelet on to a plate. He grinned at her. "Morning. Coffee's on. Breakfast is nearly ready."

Elena got a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. "Everything smells great. You didn't have to do all this, though."

He shrugged. "I told you I like to cook, especially for someone else." He put a plate in front of her. "Ham and cheese omelet O.K.?"

"Sure. It looks incredible."

"And cinnamon-raisin toast," he said as he placed a plate of toast on the table.

Elena grabbed a piece. "I love this stuff! I could eat it every day." She touched Damon's arm as he put his own food on the table. "Thank you, Damon. It's really sweet of you."

He grinned - pleased. "Thank me if the food's good."

"I know it is. I can tell already." She took a bite of omelet. "Oh, gosh. This is wonderful! How do you do this?"

"I'll show you sometime. You pick up a few things over the years," he said with a grin.

"Apparently. Cooking being one of those things. I'm not sure whether you're a better musician or cook."

He raised his eyebrows. "Cook, definitely. I never really got the technical part of the piano nailed down. My technique is a little too sloppy."

"Are you kidding me? You're great!"

He gave her the lopsided grin. "If you played, you'd hear my screw ups all over the place. I get too emotionally involved in the music and let the technique slide. You can't do that. You have to balance the interpretation and the technique. Cooking's much easier."

"Pardon me if I don't really believe you," she answered.

He shrugged. "It's the truth." He looked keenly at her. "How old are you, Elena?"

She rolled her eyes. "Don't you know better than to ask a woman her age?"

Damon grinned. "Well, considering that I'm 176 in Damon years, I don't get too freaked out by human ages. I could always steal your driver's license and find out that way." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"I'm 32." Anything to keep him from seeing that horrible photo.

"And not married, and no bambinos, I take it?"

"No, I don't have children. Never been with a guy I wanted to have kids with," she answered. Now why in the world had she said that? She was always saying things around Damon she didn't intend to say. They just popped out. She started eating with renewed speed.

Damon let that go without comment, but he had a strange look on his face when she said it.

After breakfast, he cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. He looked at his T-shirt. "Crap. I got grease on it," he groused, and without a thought, pulled it off and threw it into the laundry room. "Be right back," he said, as he went upstairs to get a clean shirt. Elena watched him go, thinking how gorgeous his chest and abs were, seeing the muscles in his back ripple as he walked. Oh, but he was gorgeous. Heat pooled in her middle as she watched him climb the stairs with his easy walk. She swallowed and decided she needed some water.

Damon opened the top drawer of his dresser and pulled out a clean T-shirt. His eye lit on the padded envelope he got from Stefan, of all people, three months ago. He took it out and reached in for the hundredth time to retrieve a vial of red liquid. He looked at it once again and re-read Stefan's letter, in his flowing script, mostly unchanged since 1864.

"Damon. Somehow, a researcher at Whitmore managed to create a cure. We could take it and be human, starting the aging process here, and living a normal lifespan. You remember I had the trust from Grandfather's estate. It was worth over $10 million, and I bought two vials of the cure for $5 million.

I know you've hated what you are over the years as much as I have. I'm tired of wanting to hurt people, Damon, and I think you are, too. You're still my only brother - the only family I have. But I won't take this unless you do. It's my fault you're like you are. I forced your hand. This is the only possible way I can make up for it.

Let me know if you want to take it. I'll come to Rome. I know this is a huge decision, but I want you to make it in your own time, with no regrets. We've got all the time in the world. But let me know. I know you probably don't believe me, but I do love you, Damon. You're my big brother. Be well. Stefan"

With a muffled curse, Damon stuffed the vial back into the envelope with the letter and shoved it all back into the drawer. It was just like Stefan to damn him to this life, and then offer to bring him back from the edge because he felt guilty. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? Damon pulled the gray shirt over his head and fluffed his hair. He still had a guest, and he was interested in making her feel safe and very much at home.

He went downstairs. Elena was texting on her phone - to Caroline, probably. He sighed as he watched her, sitting on the sofa, feet curled up under her like a slim cat. He silently approached her and moved to stand behind her. He leaned over the sofa and kissed her temple as he slid his hands to her shoulders. She turned her face toward him and smiled at him, and Damon couldn't help himself. He hadn't kissed her since last night, and he missed the feel of her lips against his. He held her chin in place as he mouthed soft kisses on her lips, letting himself be guided by her noises. The sofa was an unwelcome barrier, but he stayed where he was, wanting Elena to know he respected her boundaries, frustrating as they might be for him.

Elena put her hand in his hair, once again surprised by its softness. Most men didn't have such soft hair. She tangled her fingers in it, feeling its thick weight. No wonder it stuck up all over the place half the time. She could feel him deepening the kiss, and she leaned into his mouth. He must have hopped the back of the sofa since she didn't know how else she ended up lying on her back, feeling his weight on hers and his mouth on her neck.

Damon's fangs were aching to drop. He wanted to taste her blood so desperately and he was having a hell of a time controlling the urge. He could feel their pressure against his gums, insisting he give in to what he was - to bite, to drink, to taste her life essence. He raised his head for a moment, putting his cheek against her forehead, willing the urge to subside, as she kissed his throat in turn, going right to the hollow of his neck, licking the sensitive skin there.

She felt, more than heard, the growl deep in Damon's chest as she softly kissed his neck, down the V of his shirt, and ran her hands up his chest and across his back. Eyes closed, she brought his mouth back to hers and explored it with her tongue. She started back when he tip of her tongue scraped a sharp-pointed tooth – one of his fangs. Elena's eyes flew open and she looked at Damon, his face only inches from hers. The blue veins were showing again and she could actually see his fangs, this time. And even in that face, there was a kind of dark beauty. She brought her hand up and tentatively brushed under his eyes with her fingertips. He closed his eyes, allowing it, and when he opened them again, they were back to their normal blue, although the veins were still a little visible.

"I didn't mean for that to happen, Elena. I'm sorry."

She smiled. "It's all right. You said you wouldn't hurt me."

"And I won't, but oh God, do you ever test my control." He brought his finger up and touched it to Elena's lips, where her scraped tongue left traces of blood and then licked the blood smear from it, and from her lower lip. The visual was incredibly erotic and Elena could feel moisture gather in her center. Damon's smile was knowing. "Like that, huh?"

"What do you mean?"

"Something you need to know about vampires and humans. You know I can hear your heartbeat speed up – which it just did – but your scent changes when you're aroused. It's unconscious and also unavoidable. You can't stop it from happening. And you, lovely lady," here he nosed in her neck again, "are getting really hot and bothered right now. When I licked the blood from your lips, your hormones went on afterburners."

"That's an unfair advantage, isn't it?" she said.

"Yeah," and he nibbled her earlobe, "but I never promised you fair. Just that I wouldn't hurt you."

She sighed, but had to ask, "So you biting me would hurt?"

He continued his assault on her earlobes. "Mmmm. I was wondering when you'd get around to that. The short answer is not necessarily. It's all about bite pressure, angle – a lot of things. But someone with my experience can make it feel really, really good."

"Oh," she said as she took a ragged breath.

"Elena, I swear I won't hurt you, and I will not bite you without asking first and getting a clear yes. In a situation like this, it's the same as rape. Yes is yes, and no is definitely no." His gaze was serious, intent.

She kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Damon."

"It doesn't mean I won't ask," he said with a grin.

"But why would you want to taste my blood if you're not looking for a meal?"

"Because it tastes good to me. And it's very – intimate. Just as if I ever fed you my blood."

Elena screwed up her face. "You'd feed me your blood?"

Damon laughed a little ruefully. "Only if you asked me to, or if you were hurt. Vampire blood really does heal."

"So how close are all the books on how a human becomes a vampire?"

"Depends. The actual process is that a human has to die with vampire blood in their body. Then they wake up in transition, and can decide whether to feed on human blood and complete the process, or not feed and die for real and for good."

"How long do they have to decide?"

"About twelve hours or so. Give or take."

"I see." She wriggled a little. "Damon, this is fun and all, but you're starting to squish me."

His grin was rueful. "Sorry." He moved so Elena could sit up. When he was sitting comfortably, he pulled her into his lap so she was more or less reclining in his arms. "I like the way you feel when I hold you, Elena," he said, whispering into her hair.

"Really?"

"Really. You feel warm and soft and sweet here."

"Well believe it or not, I feel pretty safe in your arms," she admitted.

He nuzzled her neck. "You should. I'd face down hell to keep you safe."

"Why?"

"Because you're very special in so many ways."

"You hardly know me, Damon," Elena said, as she stroked his cheek.

"I know more about you than you think. Nowhere in your vampire romances do you ever even imply that we are monsters or creatures who should be exterminated. Other people in the romances, yeah, they think that. But it's obvious the author doesn't. You consistently write about us like we're just humans with strange eating habits." He kissed her forehead. "It's kind of simplified, but it's a hell of a lot better than the books that make werewolves look cuddly."

"That's because I write about vampires, not werewolves," she said pertly.

"I know." His tone was lighter.

"I can tell you I never thought I'd be sitting in a vampire's lap discussing the merits of my books, though."

"You'll always get to try something new with me. Guaranteed," he said with a snicker.

"Somehow, this does not surprise me."

"Between breakfast and conversation and doing some serious teenage-style making out, it's getting toward noon."

"Do you have plans?" Elena asked innocently enough.

"I always have plans. Whether I get to implement them is something else. For instance, my preferred plan would be to continue sucking face like a couple of desperate college kids. But realistically, why don't we go grab a sandwich and take it somewhere for a nice picnic? It's a pretty day."

"All right. That sounds like a workable plan," Elena teased.

"The other plan was workable. You just weren't amenable."

"And you're impossible."

He spread his hands. "Part of my charm, babe. What can I say?"

She attempted to sit up, but Damon held her and kissed her again. She returned the kiss, and as soon as his hold relaxed, she wiggled out of his arms and stood. "How about that picnic?" she said with a grin.

"O.K. If you insist," but he looked happy about it.

After they ate at a park by one of the rivers, Damon said, "I guess I need to get you back home."

"Unless you want to pay for a 60-mile cab ride," she answered.

"Not when I can have the pleasure of your company all to myself."

On the drive back, Elena said, "It kind of stinks that you live 60 miles away."

Damon grinned at her. "Does that mean you'd like to see more of me, as in during the week?"

"When I have time. The senator's event was the last thing on our calendar until the second week in November. So we're really doing a lot of inventory, accounting work and that sort of thing. But Caroline's a whiz at numbers. You'd never know it some days, but underneath that fluffy blonde hair is a math genius. She keeps it under wraps so people will deliberately underestimate her. It comes in handy when you're dealing with people who have extremely fragile egos. If they don't feel threatened by the event planner, they're much easier to deal with."

"I'm starting to think you two are a lethal combination," Damon said.

"Well, we do work well together, so that's a good thing. We sort of pick up each other's slack, and kind of complement each other. I can't do accounting for anything, but Caroline couldn't write a promotional brochure if her life depended on it. So it does work for us."

As they got to Elena's house, Damon looked around for the drag racers. The neighborhood was utterly quiet. "Thought you said you had a bunch of punks around here. Seems pretty quiet to me."

"I don't know what happened to them. One night, they were peeling out up and down the street, and the next, it just stopped and hasn't started back up. The cops probably picked them up and they're in juvie for something."

"Yeah, eventually, they always screw up and get caught," he replied. Oh, did they ever screw up and get caught. But they'd never drive over 55 mph again in their miserable little lives, thanks to Damon.

"I'm thinking that's what happened here. Well, this is it. Home sweet home."

"It's nice. Very cozy."

"Which is to say it's tiny," she chuckled. "But there's just me so it doesn't matter. This is an old mill village, and the houses have been remodeled and refurbished. My house is one of the two-bedroom models, so there's a little more room."

He nodded. "Rome has a couple of remodeled mill villages, too. The houses are usually very well built. "

She unlocked the door, opened it and walked inside. She didn't notice Damon was standing on the porch. "What is it?"

"Vampire law. You have to invite me inside," he said.

"Oh. Come on in, Damon. You're invited. Didn't know that one was for real."

"It is." But now he was inside, he could come in anytime.

"Have a seat," she said. "Want a glass of tea?"

"Sure," he answered, as he walked around the living room. Built in shelves held books, movies and knickknacks. It was a nice, welcoming room. The pine floors were waxed and stained blonde, and the woodwork was painted white. Elena handed him some tea. "Thanks," he said. "I like this room. It's bright."

"Yeah, it is. I didn't want a really gloomy room to greet me when I came in from work. So," she said as she sat down on the overstuffed sofa. "What else have you done for a living besides play piano in a Chicago speakeasy?"

"Oh, a few things. I enlisted in the Army during World War II. I started out in the infantry, then got in the motor pool and fixed trucks and jeeps. Came in handy. I can do a tune up on my car myself."

"That's interesting. But you sound like it's not what you really wanted to do."

"I wanted to go to flight school but well, it would've been obvious I'm a ringer. You know, reflexes. But a few years ago, I talked my way into a checkride on an F-16 Eagle. Oh, my God, was that a sweet ride! I was itching to fly it, but I didn't want to crash a $100 million plane. The pilot was a former Blue Angel and he could make that bird do cartwheels. It was incredible."

Elena was entranced by the bright interest on Damon's face. He looked ten years younger, at least, and there was a boyish enthusiasm in his eyes. It didn't surprise her that he wanted to be a pilot, but with his lightning fast reflexes, she could see how it would be obvious pretty quickly that he was walking away from dogfights he never should have survived. "It sounds incredible."

"That Eagle was something else. Maybe in another lifetime, I'll sign up again and learn to fly jets." He grinned.

"I can just see you in one of those flight suits," she said appreciatively. "You'd make Tom Cruise look like old dog food."

He snickered. "I do that, anyway. What a godawful prick."

"You've met him?" Elena was a little dubious.

"I don't talk about it. Nicole and Katie were both lucky to get out of his evil clutches, let's just put it that way."

She raised her eyebrows. "Ooooohhhkayyy. I won't pry."

"Please don't. But on to more pleasant topics..." he began, when Elena's cell rang.

"Caroline. I need to take this." He nodded. "Hey Care. What's up? Oh, I'm fine. Yeah, just got in." She went to the bedroom and closed the door. Not that it would do much good, since Damon would be able to hear her side of the conversation, regardless.

"I'm just fine, Caroline. We watched a movie last night and it was so late, I stayed over."

"In his room?"

Elena grinned at how close that came to the truth, but said, "No. Guest bedroom. I'm not that stupid." Yet.

"Well, that makes me feel better, at least. You haven't completely gone off your rocker where this guy is concerned. I called because we have a last minute booking this week! It's Friday, so we'll have to hit the ground running on Monday. No time for any hanky-panky this week, that's for sure!" she said.

Elena knew what she meant, but ignored it. "Well, we can use the money. All right. I'll be there bright and early on Monday."

"O.K. No late hangovers from Sunday, either."

"Of course not. See you." She ended the call and went back into the den. "Sorry. Looks like I've got a way busy week ahead. We got a last-minute booking, so everything that usually takes three weeks has to be done in four days. But we can do it. We've done it before."

Damon grinned. "Well, I'll just have to monopolize all your time between now and tomorrow. I've been looking at the local event websites. Want to do some dinner and dancing?"

"That sounds great. It's been way too long since I've been dancing."

"Good. I found a casual place, so no need to really dress up."

Elena didn't know why she was surprised Damon was such a good dancer. He moved with the grace of a panther anyway, so it followed he could dance, too. As they swayed to the music, Elena realized again that having a good partner makes both partners look good. She was also glad Damon had the ability to intimidate with a look. Since he wasn't huge and hulking, a couple of guys tried to hit on her. Damon took care of that in a hurry, though, and they stayed away from her the rest of the night.

She wasn't dressed provocatively at all. She wore a knee-length skater-style skirt and a short sleeved top. She was covered, but guys usually thought she was younger and stupider than she looked. There was one bad moment when she was waiting in line for the bathroom, and a drunk idiot hit on her.

"Hey sweetheart. Want to dance?" he slurred.

"Thanks, but no. Gotta hit the ladies room."

"After, then," he said.

"No, I'm here with my date. But thanks for asking." She was trying to be pleasant, but this jerk wasn't making it easy.

"Ah, come on. It's just one dance." He ran his hand up her arm.

Elena moved away from him. "Sorry, but I'm with my date, O.K.?"

"I don't see anybody here." He took another step and grabbed her butt.

"Look, man. I said no. I meant it. Now get away from me before my date sees you. He is not gonna be happy." While she wanted Damon to show up, she had a feeling it wouldn't end well if the drunk guy got really persistent. Damon struck her as a little possessive, and she knew he wouldn't appreciate anyone groping her.

Drunk dude chuckled. "Well, I said I don't see your 'date.'"

"Then turn around, asshole." Elena looked at Damon with a sigh of relief. She was glad to see him, but the look on his face did not mean good things for the drunk guy.

"I'm fine, Damon. Everything's O.K.," she said.

"It will be once I take out the trash here," he snarked.

The drunk guy laughed at Damon. "Man, I'm a foot taller than you and I outweigh you by a hundred pounds. I'm not going anywhere."

Elena closed her eyes. In the history of "wrong things to say," that was in the top ten.

"Oh really?" Damon said. He grabbed the guy's wrist and forced his arm behind his back with no trouble. The guy was howling in pain. "Now apologize to the lady before I break your arm."

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean anything! I'm just drunk!" he yelled.

"Well, that's fairly obvious," Damon growled. He turned the guy around and grabbed his shirt collar. "Get the hell out and don't come back."

Without a word, the man left. Damon went to Elena. "Are you O.K.?"

"I'm fine. He was a little handsy, but that's all. It's good. Thanks for not ripping his head off."

"I didn't feel like spending the night in jail," Damon answered with a smirk. "Now can I leave you by yourself for five minutes?"

She laughed. "After that display of machismo, nobody's gonna bother me. Guaranteed."

"All right. I'll be at our table." He kissed her briefly, to the envy of the other women in line.

"Hey girlfriend," one said. "Where can I find one like that?"

Elena laughed. "He found me."

"Damn. They're all either gay or taken. Has he got a brother?"

"Actually, he does, but he lives in Virginia."

The girl shook her head. "Just my luck. What does the brother look like?"

Elena shrugged. "Don't know. I haven't met him. Dark blond hair and green eyes is all I know."

The girl looked after Damon. "Well, you have to think something that looks like he does wouldn't have a butt-ugly brother."

Elena laughed out loud, wondering if Damon was in hearing range, across the noise of the club. "Probably not, but like I said, I haven't met him."

"Send him my way if you ever do," the girl sighed.

"I'll do it," Elena said with a grin.

When she got back to their table, Damon had ordered a drink for her. "What's this?"

"Diet ginger ale. You said you didn't want to get bombed, and you've already had a daiquiri and a Jello shot."

"True." She sipped the soda.

"I heard that girl ask if I had a brother," he smirked. "Maybe I need to get Stefan down here. He needs to loosen up once in a while, and stop being so broody."

"Somehow, loosening up is something I don't think you've ever had a problem with," Elena said.

"Not in several decades, anyway," he replied.

Elena finished her drink and said, "Let's dance again. I love this song." It was "When a Man Loves a Woman."

Damon grinned and drew her up from the table. "Glad it's the Percy Sledge version. If it had been the Michael Bolton cover, I'd have done something awful to that DJ. Percy's the only one who does it right."

When they got to the dance floor, Elena put her arms around Damon's neck, and he rested his hands at her waist. They didn't even dance as much as moved from side to side while Elena put her head on Damon's chest and felt his hands move to draw circles on her back. His chin rested on the top of her head and she had never felt safer in her life, as when he held her.

The lights were dim, and when the song was nearly over, Elena lifted her face to Damon and he kissed her - a soft, hot, open-mouthed kiss that told her very clearly what he wanted, and how much he wanted it. He brought his lips to her ear. "Too bad public sex gets you arrested," he whispered. His words made Elena's insides clench and she unconsciously tightened her arms around him, which made him laugh. "And you agree with me," he murmured.

"Damon…" she began.

"Please finish that sentence with 'let's go home so we can get naked,'" he said.

"You're being pushy again," she countered. "Remember, friends first?"

He closed his eyes in mock misery and shook his head. "I hate that 'f' word. Besides," and here he nuzzled her ear again, "I think that train left the station a long, long time ago. In fact, I don't think it ever even stopped there."

Objectively, Elena had to agree. From the first time she saw Damon, he had taken up residence in her head. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him, and she itched for him when he wasn't around. This was new for her, though, and she wasn't sure what to do with it. Dating Mason had been an "until something better comes along" - especially for him. And for him, the "something better" was the money in her bank account. But she had certainly found something better, regardless of the highly unusual circumstances. "You've definitely got a point, Damon. But I just…" he stopped her words with a searing kiss.

"Let's talk - talk this out at your place," he said, when he lifted his head.

"O.K.," she said with a smile.

Once they got back to Elena's house, Damon started by downing a couple of bags of blood he had in a cooler stored in her fridge. "Now I can think straight," he said. "I don't like to discuss anything when I have to feed." He sat on the ottoman in front of Elena, who was sitting in her armchair. "We need honesty here. I know you're attracted to me. How much of your holding back is because I'm a vampire?" He wasn't compelling her. He thought she'd be honest with him.

She sighed. "I don't know, Damon. Some. Let's face it - this is weird! I mean, dating a vampire! Really? How strange is that?"

He shrugged. "Not any stranger than you dating a werewolf."

"What are you talking about?"

"Didn't you say that ex of yours who cleaned out your bank account was named Mason Lockwood?"

"Yeah. So?"

"Big guy, brown hair, big mouth, short temper, good-looking - not as hot as I am, of course - loves beer?"

"I'll admit that sounds like him. What does beer have to do with it?"

"Wolves like beer. Usually cheap beer. But yeah. I actually ran into that prick not long ago. Remember when I got caught in the woods and had to sit in the water until morning?"

"That was Mason? Where did it happen? He never disappeared during a full moon when we dated."

"He was triggered fairly recently, then. That was a couple of years or so ago. He's actually got a cousin in Mystic Falls. That's when I was there last, just to stop in and torment Stefan for a few days and then I got bored and left. Also, I admit, because I didn't want to deal with any wolves. Wonder who he killed?" Damon mused.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh. You probably didn't know. The werewolf curse is inherited. It frequently skips a generation, but when the males have it, they're aggressive, mouthy, always looking for a fight. If - usually when - they kill someone, even if it's accidental, it triggers the curse. And I was unlucky enough to be out in the woods during a full moon while Mason was out there, too. He nearly had me. Wolves are fast sons of bitches. I kicked him in the head and ran like hell. There's an old quarry that's filled with water, and I remembered it. I dove in and swam about a third of the way out. Ruined a leather jacket and my boots. Anyway, that idiot sat there at the edge of the quarry, watching me tread water all night. Like I was gonna get out while he was there. So about sunrise, he starts changing back and he's yelling all kinds of shit at me. But I mean, he was the dumbass freezing his haunches off all night watching me." Damon shook his head. "Wolves are so stupid, sometimes. How'd you get mixed up with that jerk, anyway?"

Elena shrugged. "He was a rep with one of the companies we contract with for events. The place where he works has a warrant out for him for stealing from them, too. Are all werewolves like him?"

Damon thought about that. "You mean thieves? No, not usually. In general, if you're just dealing with one, when they're human, they're not more prone to crime than any other human. It's when they get together in a pack that really bad things start to happen. The pack mentality takes over. If they've got a decent alpha, it's mostly O.K. They're clannish, obviously, and insular, but not inherently hazardous to other humans. Get a nut like Mason as the alpha, and you've got serious problems."

"So werewolves are more dangerous than vampires?" Elena's head was spinning with all the information.

"Not individually, no. They can only change one night a month. They're not common and if you avoid the packs and use common sense, you should be all right. Vampires are dangerous all the time, BUT we do tend to be more rational. And you don't hear about vampire packs. Alliances are usually short-lived, for obvious reasons. But werewolf packs are the most dangerous supernatural manifestations on the face of the earth, in my humble opinion. No one is safe from them."

"Unless you can climb a tree," Elena said, in an attempt to lighten the mood a little.

Damon grinned. "Right. So are you completely freaked out yet?" She didn't seem to be. Her heartbeat was fairly steady.

She shook her head. "I don't know which is worse: knowing that werewolves and vampires do exist, or knowing I've dated one and am dating the other. That's a lot to wrap your brain around."

"I'll agree," Damon said with the lopsided grin that showed his dimples. "And the fact that the same woman has managed to do both in one lifetime is about as far against the odds as it gets."

"Thanks. That's comforting," Elena said dryly.

"Hey. Teasing. You must be a danger magnet, though."

"Again..." her voice trailed off.

He grinned. "I know. Not helping. So you had a bad experience with Fido. I understand. But obviously, cash is not a problem with me. And I rarely drink beer, cheap or otherwise. So we know a little danger doesn't scare you off. I can promise you a little adventure too, and definitely – passion. Lots of passion." He leaned over, took her hand and kissed her fingertips. "If you're at all interested in a man who loves women, and who knows how to please them, well, here I am."

"What am I supposed to say to that?"

Damon stroked one finger down her cheek and smiled wickedly. "You say, 'Give me a few minutes and meet me in my bedroom.' And then you go in and shower or do whatever and I'll be in there shortly and I'll proceed to rock your world."

She sat in the chair, obviously thinking things over. She stood and so did Damon. She put her hands on his chest. "I'm an idiot, a complete idiot, but give me a few minutes and meet me in my bedroom," she said softly and was gone before he could react.

He looked after her and all but jumped up and down. He went to check all the locks on the doors and then went to the fridge and drained two blood bags. He wanted a hammerlock on his control. He heard the shower running and waited patiently for Elena to finish. When she came out, in only her bathrobe, he was hard put not to push her on the bed right then, but he was feeling grungy.

"I'll be out in a couple of minutes," he said, as he went into the bathroom.

"O.K.," she answered.

She was lying on the bed under the sheet when Damon came out of the bathroom with only a towel around his waist. Elena couldn't help staring at him. He was beautiful. Perfect. His body was every woman's fantasy – muscled, lean. She licked her lips unconsciously.

"Like what you see?" Damon's voice had changed from its normal light baritone to a sexy purr.

She nodded, and his lopsided grin appeared. He dropped the towel and Elena nearly passed out when he turned for her. "Get a good look, then," he said, pure sex in his voice. When he turned back to face her, she was a little wide-eyed.

"You'd think I'd never seen this before," she said.

He smirked at her. "Well, I guarantee you've never seen this." Damon put one knee on the bed at the foot and flicked the sheet away from Elena. She instinctively brought her arms around to cover herself. "None of that," he said, grabbing her wrists in one of his hands. "Don't hide from me, Elena. You're beautiful." And she was, with as close to a perfect body as he'd ever seen on a woman. He boldly ran his hands down her sides and rested them on her hips. He lowered himself to her, his knee between her thighs.

Damon kissed her, softly, taking her lower lip between his and sucking on it. Elena's breath caught as he did, and brought a hand to one breast and tweaked her nipple, then rolled it between his fingers, then palmed her breast and dragged his fingers across her ribs, making her squirm under his touch as she pulled his head closer to hers.

"Your mouth is so sweet," he whispered against her lips. "You taste so good." He kissed her again, his tongue fully engaged with hers. She moaned into his mouth and Damon kissed her neck, her shoulders and throat, then her earlobes. He moved down to her breasts, and she knew she was going to have a hickey on the inside of one, from his bruising kisses. He suckled her breasts until she was panting with pure need.

"Damon, please. Please," she said.

He smiled against her skin. "I've got you, baby. I'll take care of you. I promise." He moved his mouth down to her center and at the first touch of his tongue there, she nearly rolled both of them off the bed. He licked her moist folds for a minute and said, "Is that what you need, babe?"

"Yes, oh, yessss," she hissed. "Just like that. Please Damon. Please."

"I don't mind you begging, but it's not really necessary," he said, and went back to pleasuring her with his mouth. It was exquisite. He knew exactly how to move his tongue so she could feel heat moving up through her folds, and when he added a finger, she was lost, writhing against him, but unable to get away from his sweet attack. He circled her button with his tongue, sucked on it, nipped it, and then just licked it, and that was the best of all. Elena had no idea it could be that good, and she was rolling her hips, wanting, wanting, needing, needing... She could feel her climax starting at her toes and working its way up to her thighs, swirling around her middle, to her breasts and finally, to her brain and she cried out from the intensity of it.

Elena was too overcome to see Damon's smile of victory at her reaction. She just felt him next to her, gathering her into his arms, holding her, whispering sweetly to her. She arched to his body and nuzzled in the delicious skin of his chest, feeling how solid he was against her. She felt his erection against her thigh and reached down to touch him, hearing his hissed intake of breath as she did so. "You feel so good," she murmured.

"I'll feel even better once I'm inside you," he said, his voice raspy with need.

Elena rolled to her back and held out her arms to him. "Come here then."

Well, a woman never had to ask Damon twice. Even though his body was screaming at him to pound, to press Elena's body through the mattress with his, he paused long enough to say, "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

She nodded. "Yeah. But I want this."

"I know you do. So do I. But I need to go a little slower at first. I don't want to hurt you." He pressed his tip into her folds and her hand guided him into her body. He pushed in slowly until he was fully seated in her sheath. "O.K.?" he asked, ignoring every nerve trying to force him to get moving, and quickly.

"You feel so good, Damon. I want it deep. Please."

He leaned to whisper in her ear, "Anything to please a lady," he said and pulled almost all the way out, and then thrust in again, listening to her moans of pleasure. "You're so wet and tight. It's almost too much. Oh, you feel so good," he panted. He brought her knees up and penetrated even deeper. "I want to take you deep. You need it deep and hot." He increased his pace slowly, until finally, he was moving as fast as a human man could. She wasn't ready for real vampire speed yet. But she was marking his back with her short nails and he was getting off on the pain from the tiny, burning scrapes. By the time she collapsed into a second orgasm, and he came inside her, both were beyond speech.

As they collapsed in a tangle, he stroked her hair and feathered kisses across her temple and face. "So beautiful. So hot," he whispered. "You're mine, Elena," he said.

"And you're mine, Damon," she responded, which made him grin. These liberated 21st century women. They weren't afraid to go after what they wanted. He loved it.

He fumbled for the switch on the lamp and turned out the light. "Sleep, beautiful lady," he said. "Rest. I'll be here."

"O.K. Damon. Good night," Elena said as she fell deeply asleep. It had been a long week and she was really tired. Damon knew it and he didn't want to press his advantage. Time enough for more, now that she had consented to having him in her bed. He was surprisingly relaxed himself, as he plumped his pillow and cuddled Elena against his chest.

"Good night, sweetheart," he whispered against her forehead and she smiled before she drifted into true sleep. Damon had been right. Elena's body was meant for him. They might even have been meant for each other, but he fell asleep himself before he could ponder that thought too deeply.

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