Elena woke early the next morning. Her limbs were still entwined with Damon's, his arms holding her as if he had to protect her. She lay still, partly because she knew that if she tried to move she would awaken Damon and she was not at all certain she wanted to do that. Not yet, at any rate. She had things to think about and she needed to think without distractions.
Now that the chaos of passion had resolved itself, the first thing she ought to do was take a cold, hard look at what had happened between Damon and her. Life had suddenly become extremely complicated.
As carefully as possible, she inched to the side of the bed and slipped out from under the sheet, trying not to wake him in the process. Slowly, she put on her underwear but her shirtdress was nowhere to be found. Damn.
"Good morning, sunshine."
Startled, she turned her head around quickly and found Damon propped himself up on one elbow, looking as relaxed as a large cat after a successful hunt. "Oh! Um, did I wake you?"
"No, I've been up for three hours."
"Really? Because you didn't say a word." She could feel the heat in her cheeks "Have you seen my shirtdress?"
"Nope." He thrust aside the quilt and got up from the edge of the bed. "Who knows where did you leave it? We had a wild night." He winked as he put on his trousers.
She shot him a glare and it was obvious he was teasing her. She glanced down and saw her shirtdress sticking out from under the bed. With a sigh she shimmied into her shirtdress and groped wildly for the zipper.
"I'll get it for you." Damon's voice was softer now. He walked across the room to stand behind her. His fingers caught hold of the zipper tab and raised it straight to her back in a single motion.
"Thank you." Her voice sounded stiff and prim, even to her own ears.
"Sure. Anytime."
She did not dare look at him now. Instead she began to hunt for her ankle booties. "Dammit! Where's my booties?"
Damon did not bother to help her with her search. Folding his arms, he lounged against the wall and watched her frantic search.
"I don't think your shoes made it upstairs," he offered eventually.
"Good grief." She straightened quickly, shoved the hair out of her eyes, and bolted for the door.
He followed her at a more leisurely pace. She ignored him, horrified by the sight of her booties on the stairs and her jacket on the floor. What had come over her? She didn't do things like this. She must have lost it, big time.
By the time Damon got downstairs she had retrieved her shoes and her jacket and had the door in sight. The only thing that mattered at that moment was to escape from the scene of her wild, frenzied, totally uncharacteristic passion.
Damon's voice stopped her cold just as she was about to twist the knob.
"What happened between us last night scared the hell out of you, didn't it?" he asked softly.
For a second she could not breathe. She looked down at her trembling fingers. "Last night was a mistake. What happened between us was not right."
He flinched. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Anything between us would be complicated, Damon."
"Why complicated?" As he walked up behind her, he saw her stiffen in sudden alertness, defending herself against the steady beat of his presence. "Because you are a Gilbert and I'm a Salvatore?"
He touched the soft points of her shoulders, his hands settling gently on them, remembering the feel of her and feeling the tensing of her body. Drawn closer by her nearness, he brushed his lips against her hair, breathing in its fragrance. "I don't give a damn about the feud." He let his hands trail down her arms and follow the bend of her elbows to cross in front of her, drawing her back against him. She tipped her head to the side, as if away from him, but he found the slender curve of her neck and the vein that throbbed there. "I want you. You want me. Simple as that."
"No." She wasn't sure what she was saying 'no' to – to him, to the physical response he evoked or to herself? His words, his voice, his touch were all working on her, undermining the barriers she had put up against him. "This is wrong…" she whispered as he turned her into his arms but she offered no resistance.
"This is right," he murmured and kissed her, his mouth coming down hot and firm. And then he gentled the kiss, brushing his parted lips on hers in a light, exquisite touch that was so hard to resist. He trailed his lips to her ear and nipped the lobe, his whisper sending shivers down her spine. "I know you want to kiss me back. I can feel it. Why not indulge the impulse," he invited her huskily. "Stay."
In sheer panic she tore free of his mouth and then his grasp. She stepped back and could feel the door pressing hard against her back, her chest heaving, fists clenched at her sides. "I don't do one-night time frames."
He stiffened. "I never ask for a one-night time frame."
She raised her chin. "Then what do you want, Damon? What do you want from me?"
He was annoyed. "Dammit, Elena. Why are you being so difficult?"
"I'm not being difficult!" she retorted. "Is there a reason you come back to Mystic Falls? To get revenge?"
"You know something?" he said through his teeth. "I have enough of this bullshit. I want you. I think you want me. Can't we just go with that for now?"
For the space of two or three heartbeats, she went utterly motionless and speechless.
"Give whatever we've got going for us a chance, okay?" He leaned his forehead against hers. His thumb moved along the line of her jaw. "That's all I'm asking."
She swallowed. "I want some time to think about what's going on here. I believe that you should do some thinking about it, too."
He said nothing. Just looked at her.
"Is that a problem for you?" she asked.
"Hell, no. I can think. Do it all the time. Sometimes I have two or three whole thoughts in the course of a day."
"I thought you could probably handle it. And right now, I need to go home and get to work." She put one hand on his bare chest and gently pushed him away. "Seriously, Damon. Put some clothes on, or at least get out of my way. I need to go."
"Your loss. I make one hell of a naked breakfast," he smirked as he moved away from her and put on a T-shirt.
"You can save it for yourself." She straightened away from the door, composed herself.
"I will drive you home." He fished keys out of a pocket. "On one condition."
She jerked back around. "What condition?"
He walked past her and opened the door. "We will have dinner together tonight."
x x x
"Good morning," April said, her forehead creasing in a worried frown as Elena walked into the art gallery. "I'm so worried about you. You left without a word last night," she said as she followed Elena inside the office.
Elena sat down at her desk, leaned her elbows on it, and massaged her temples. Everything was wrong. "I had a migraine last night."
"Maybe you should stay at home today. I can look after the gallery." April looked worried.
"No, I'm fine now. I have a meeting with the manager of the museum from Richmond at ten."
"I'll bring you some coffee. You look like you could use some." April said.
Elena watched April leave, and she leaned back in her chair, feeling like she had aged a hundred years since last night. Guilt had haunted her throughout the drive home this morning. She had slept with Damon Salvatore. Again. By the time she got home she was a mass of guilt and fear. She had lost herself completely in him. Once again. When Damon asked her to give a chance for whatever was going on between them, she could not figure out the best response. They both needed to think things through. Getting involved with Damon Salvatore was the last thing she needed.
Probably be best to write off that last night at his place as an ill-advised one-night stand. She wasn't thinking clearly last night. Her birthday brought back too many painful memories. Sex was the best way to deal with a stressful situation.
It all sounded so logical. Why did she feel depressed by her own clear reasoning?
Elena closed her eyes, trying to banish the sensation of impending doom so that she could attempt to get on with her day. Every time she went near Damon Salvatore, she said and did things that she would never do under ordinary circumstances—foolish, wrong, dangerous things!
She thought of the way she had responded to him in bed, and bright colour ran up her cheeks. At seven-teen she had been awed by the fact that Damon seemed to know all the right places to touch her, all the right things to whisper to her, in order to drive her into a frenzy of defenceless desire. To discover, when she was twenty-seven, that he could still do it—only much more so—filled her with despondent shame. Last night she had practically begged him for a climax—when she couldn't even sleep with her ex- fiancé.
She needed to think properly. She couldn't trust her own judgement now.
"Here's your coffee," April said, heading toward Elena's desk with a steaming mug in one hand and a bunch of red tulips in the other. "More flowers again."
Elena sighed. "When is this going to stop?"
She snatched up the card that came together with the flowers and ripped it open.
"Still no signature?" April asked as she leaned over Elena's shoulder and read the message inside: 'Till next time we meet,' signed Damon Salvatore.
"Oh my God!" April screamed and grabbed Elena. "They are from Mr Salvatore."
Elena blinked at the message. The flowers were from Damon. Was this a joke? Why did he keep it as a secret? He was in the art gallery the other day and saw the flowers but he had pretended it had nothing to do with him. Anger, confusion and hurt converged her all at once. What kind of game was he trying to play?
"Do you think" - April tilted her head back to eye Elena thoughtfully – "he is in love with you?"
"That's ridiculous." Yet her cheeks felt unusually warm. "I'm sure you have heard about the family feud."
"My dear Elena, that's ancient history. Who cares about ancient history? Love is a chemical reaction. Either something happens between two people or it doesn't."
"Just because he is sending flowers to me," she said through her teeth, "it does not necessarily follow that he is in love with me."
"But you like him, don't you?"
Elena started a little. Her mouth opened but this time no words emerged.
"If you like him, go for it. Here's the chance," April smiled. "Don't ever let him go."
x x x
They had pizza and beer at her place—picnic-style, on the floor in front of the fire. Dining out in public would be more like a date. She couldn't handle a date with him. Not at this stage when she had so many unanswered questions. And she didn't want to bump into anyone she knew. Damon had offered to cook but she declined. Cooking dinner together and eating it at his place was too intimate. Staying at her place allowed her to keep a little distance because she felt safe in her house, her own territory. But she was wrong. Having Damon Salvatore around was not safe. She had been vibrantly and uneasily aware of his nearness throughout their meal.
They had finished eating and were having the last of the beer. Damon leaned forward and reached for his beer, surreptitiously watching her gazing into the fire, her arms wrapped around her updrawn knees. Sitting before the fire in jeans that hugged her shapely bottom and a sleeveless green lace tank top, she was absolutely breath-taking.
Now, as he watched her staring into the fire, he wondered about her stares at odd times throughout their meal.
"What is it?" he asked idly, and his question unexpectedly made her eyes widen. "Well, I know I'm yummy. You have been staring throughout the whole night."
"Why did you do that?"
"Do what?"
"The flowers."
"Oh."
She folded her arms. "That's it? You aren't going to explain?"
He shrugged. "I sent the flowers. No big deal."
Elena managed a look of angry scorn. "How could you sound like it is not a big deal? Why do you keep it as a secret? I don't know what game you're trying to play but I don't want to be a part of it."
He raised one hand and traced his fingertip along her collarbone. His finger grazed her throat. "Do you believe this is a game?"
She caught her breath at his touch. "Then what is it?"
"Folks in town are sort of assuming that I am planning to seduce you in order to get revenge."
She felt a knot in her stomach. "Are you?"
He continued to trace his fingertip along her collarbone. "Don't you think the revenge part is a bit childish? Why do I want to get revenge?"
"Because I'm a Gilbert. Maybe you see me as some sort of challenge. Who knows?"
He lowered his head until his mouth hovered just above hers. "I think we ought to find out, don't you?"
"Sex is probably not the best way to explore that issue."
He kissed her slowly, lingeringly. When he raised his head she saw the hunger in him. She felt her blood heat.
"Can you think of a better way to explore it?" he asked. Gently, but firmly, he lowered her to the floor.
She swallowed. "Not right at the moment."
His face was less than an inch from hers. He stretched out full length beside her, and she felt the weight of his body pressing close.
"Damon…" she whispered.
"Trust me, this is not a game," he barely managed to whisper before his mouth descended on hers.
He kissed her with a long slow warmth that gradually took possession of both of them. She gave a soft, husky little moan and slid her arms around his neck. When he slid his hands down the length of Elena's spine and up under the tank top, she shuddered against him. He felt the tremor go through her from head to toe. Her back was warm and elegantly contoured beneath his palms.
As his mouth cherished hers, his breath hot and ragged against her cheek. Elena moved her tongue across his lower lip. Damon groaned. The sound was like thunder moving though her, enticing her, calling to her. The knot of throbbing heat within her grew to such a point that Elena groaned. She had never felt this hungry before.
He straightened, peeled off his T-shirt in a single, sweeping motion and tossed it carelessly aside. His eyes never left her as he stripped off his trousers and briefs. He took time only to sheathe himself before he was on the floor with her, looming over her, caging her between his arms.
She could hardly breathe when he tugged the tank off over her head and unfastened her bra. A raw moaned escaped her parted lips as he stripped off her jeans and panties. And he slid one leg between her thighs. He shifted his mouth back to hers in a heavy, drugging kiss. She deepened the kiss and moved her tongue within his mouth. The moment that happened, she arched upward to meet his thrust into her.
Her world spun and deepened. Elena felt him move seamlessly into her, as if they had always been meant for one another. He slid his hand beneath her hips, lifted her slightly, the sensations intensifying until she tore her lips from his. With each rocking thrust, Elena went higher and higher. The throbbing tension in her core became so intense, she groaned. And, as if sensing what she needed, Damon thrust hard and deep within her. Throwing her head back, Elena cried out in relief as the gate within her exploded. She felt light, airy, only vaguely aware of Damon's breath next to her ear. His hips continued to thrust against hers, his male body strong and coaxing her to new height. She felt the rigid tension in the muscles and bone beneath his skin and knew that he was no longer in control either. His release crashed through both of them.
She could smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air when she opened her eyes. Damon was no longer sprawled alongside but she was warm, even though she was quite naked. She realized that he had put a blanket over her. Her glance fell on the clock hanging on the wall of her living room. It was almost dawn.
Someone was in the kitchen. She heard a cupboard door close in the kitchen. It was followed by the sound of the refrigerator being opened. A moment later silverware jangled.
"Morning, honey." He came to her with a tray in his hands. "Coffee is ready," he said cheerfully.
Honey? Elena pondered the simple endearment. Damon had never called her honey, not even last night in the middle of making love to her. Of course, he had not made a lot of conversation when they made love.
She sat up cautiously, holding the blanket close around her shoulders. There was some tenderness in her body and a bit of stiffness here and there. Only to be expected when you made love on the floor, she thought. She had never tried that before.
She realized that Damon was watching her with unconcealed amusement as he placed the tray on the coffee table. He had put on his trousers and T-shirt.
"Want some help?" he asked.
"No, I, uh, I'm fine." She grabbed her tank top lying near the fire place and put it on.
"I poured you some coffee."
"Thanks." Retrieving the mug from Damon, she sipped at the steaming hot liquid.
"I'm cooking. What do you want for breakfast? Omelette? Scramble eggs?"
"I'm not much of a breakfast eater. Just toast is enough for me."
"I'll remember that."
He said it so easily, as if they would be sharing a number of morning meals. She placed the mug on the coffee table and adjusted the blanket around her lower body to cover her nakedness.
Damon sat down beside her. "I'm not playing games, Elena. I sent you the flowers anonymously because I wasn't sure how would you react."
"Then why did you decide to let me know?"
"Because I don't want to lie anymore."
She said nothing, just watched him steadily.
"You still believe this is a game?"
She went still. "I don't know."
"Do you trust me?" He put his hands on the curve of her shoulders.
"Can I trust you?"
"If you don't trust me, just say so and I will go." His reached out to slide a hand through her hair. Warm fingers encircled her nape. His thumb stroked a line along her jaw. "I will leave you alone and never appear in your life again."
Elena stared at Damon, trying to decide what was the right thing to do. Dare she risk her heart and trust him?
"No."
He froze, his thumb on her cheek. "No, you don't trust me?"
Her heart won out. "No, I don't want you to go."
He shuddered and pulled her close again. "Don't scare me like that. My heart won't take the shock."
As she lifted her face, his lips were scant inches from hers. Elena met his penetrating azure eyes that burned with need, and a soft sigh whispered from between her lips. She leaned upward, her mouth sliding against the line of his. Instantly, Damon's mouth took hers, sweeping her into a world of heat and melting desire. As his lips slid across hers, rocking them open and claiming her swiftly, Elena surrendered to the power of him as a man wanting her. All of her.
For an endless time, they kissed. Just that, but passionately, breathlessly, until they were finally forced to break away. He scooped her up in his arms and headed for the stairs. Elena directed him to her bedroom. He kicked open the door and tumbled her down onto her bed.
"Do we have time for this?" he asked in a husky voice as he rained fervent kisses on her face and threaded his hands through the dark brown strands of hair fanning the pillow.
"It will have to be quick."
He kissed her throat. "That won't be a problem."
An hour later Damon came out of the bathroom after his shower wearing his jeans. Elena stretched and yawned and wished she had the day in which to be lazy and reflect on what had happened last night and this morning, to relieve each precious moment of it. Thinking of Damon's hand, his mouth, caused her body to tingle with erotic memories and renewed desire.
He walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it. "I will make some toasts for you. Why don't you take a shower?"
"Okay." She slipped from the bed and went into the bedroom. She took a shower, washed her hair and used the hair dryer. She put on a black and white printed airy V-neck tank top with a subtle centre-front seam detail and a gracefully draped racerback and matched it with a pair of black pants. She had never liked heavy makeup, so she applied some powder to her nose, blusher to her cheek, and lip gloss before joining Damon in the kitchen.
Damon whistled softly as she walked into the kitchen. "You look nice."
The way he was looking at her made Elena blushed and her knees go weak. Damon was the only man who could have such effect on her.
He held out a chair for her and poured coffee from a thermal carafe. "Eggs and toasts. Take your pick. If you want something else, I can fix it for you."
"I don't eat much during breakfast. This looks more like a feast," she said, eyeing the beautifully set table.
He grinned. "It's celebration."
"Celebration? Of what?" Elena picked up the coffee mug.
"You. Me. Us."
Without drinking, she set the mug down. "Is there an us?"
For a long moment – too long – Damon stared at her. "You tell me."
Elena couldn't answer. She wanted there to be an us. She wanted it with everything inside of her. But she was still afraid to believe his words, afraid to surrender her heart completely that would leave her defenceless and vulnerable.
Understanding hit him. She still didn't trust him completely. But he wouldn't give up.
He slipped his hands over hers. "Let's take it slow, okay?"
She smiled and nodded. "What are you going to do today?" she asked as she nibbled on her toast.
"I'm going to make a few phone calls and check emails. But I would be available before lunch. We could grab something to eat together."
"I have to go to the Lakehouse this morning to check on the repairs. I won't be at the art gallery today."
The Gilbert family lake house was a summer house owned by the Gilbert Family at Dunham Lake, located some distance away from Mystic Falls.
Damon frowned. "It's quite a long drive back to Mystic Falls."
"I probably will stay there overnight and come back the next morning. I need to get some paintings from the Lakehouse anyway."
"I will go with you."
"No, you have work to do. I will be fine." She tried to reassure him.
"No, I will go with you," he said firmly. 'I don't want you driving alone."
"Why don't you join me later the day?" she said on sudden impulse. "We could stay there for the night."
There was a brief pause. "Okay. I will get there as soon as I finish here. Be careful."
She leaned across the table and made a face. "Are you always this bossy?"
"I'm not bossy. I worry about your safety."
She smiled. "You have nothing to worry about. I will see you later. Have fun with your phone calls and emails."
"What I do at Salvatore Corporate is called work, not fun." He gave her his slow, sexy Salvatore smile. "Fun comes later, after work. I'll show you."
