Chapter 8

Sorry if this update takes a while: but I wanted to give you a nice long chapter update. I know that some of the chapters are a bit short but these are mainly filler ones with important events that need to stand on their own. And thank you for the really great reviews And I just wanted to ask … I want to raise this story to an M (later on though) just to be safe … would anyone have a problem with that? Just say the word

Note: I don't own any of the lyrics/songs

I met Caroline coming up the stairs on my way to my room. "Hey, you headed to bed already? It's only nine!"

"I'm just a bit … tired. It's been a busy day."

Instead of protesting as I expected to her to do, she gazed at me understandingly, "Okay. Sleep well then." She gave me a comforting squeeze and descended the stairs. "Oh and 'Lena?"

"Yeah?"

"The engagement dinner is tomorrow night, and so the caterers and all will be setting up tomorrow and the florists will be there in the afternoon, I hope it won't be too stressful and all as I know that you are going with Jeremy tomorrow morning, but I would really love it if you could … um …"

I looked at her suspiciously, "What do you want, Care?"

"Well, I would really love it if you could maybe … make your chocolate truffle cake as one of the deserts?"

"Care!"

"What?"

"You know that you have to make it the night before!"

"Oh my god! I'm sorry I forgot! It's just that you haven't been here …"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry! You know what … never mind, we can have it another time." She gave me an apologising smile.

I knew I would probably regret this later, but it was her wedding, "Wait, Care. I'll do it now, I'm not that tired anyways … I was just going to read for a bit."

"Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!" She dashed up the remaining stairs and wrapped her arms around me. "And Stefan has all of the ingredients in the fridge! Thank you! Gosh I love you!"

I let out a somewhat nervous giggle, "It's okay."

And this is how twenty minutes later I found myself in the vast, wood kitchen surrounded by chocolate and other ingredients. I tied my hair up into a loose bun, rubbed my hands together and set to work.

Standing over the stove, I broke the dark chocolate up into chunks and began melting them in then pan.

"Barefoot and in the kitchen, I see." I heard a low voice murmur from behind me.

"Damon."

"Elena." I heard him step closer into the room.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, Stefan and Caroline are frolicking in the upstairs lounge basking in their love rather loudly, Matt and Rebekah have disappeared over to God knows where and Bonnie and Jeremy snuck past my room a couple of minutes ago giggling like nervous nuns. So I've come in search of booze but seem to have found the second best thing." He stood opposite me leaning on the kitchen island and giving me his signature smirk.

"And what is that?"

He leant closer towards me, "The second best thing, Elena, is … melted … chocolate." And with that sensuous comment, he dipped his finger into the smouldering pan stealing a drop of the velvety chocolate and slowly brought it too his lips. "God, 'Lena, I never knew you were a culinary master." He winked. That son of a bitch who just basically gave out a floor show with chocolate that a womaniser would be jealous of winked at me.

"Be careful, you might burn yourself," I said lifting a finger of chocolate to my own lips.

"Vampire." He stated obviously, doing his 'eyebrow thing'. "So how was your heart to heart with dear old Stefan?" Casually he pulled a stool up to the island and pulled out a bottle of bourbon, setting it down on the wooden counter top with a thud. I could see his strong stomach muscles peeking out from beneath his black cotton shirt when he stretched his arms up to the cabinets above the island to bring down two crystal glasses. Setting them down next to the bottle he poured one glass of bourbon for himself and then put the bottle back.

"What about me?"

"I remember that you don't like the stuff." He produced from the cupboard a bottle of wine, poured a glass for me and proceeded to place it next to the stove before taking a seat. "So?" He looked at me expectantly over the rim of the glass.

"So what?" I tried to act as though I had no idea of what he was talking about.

"How'd your talk with my little brother go?"

I took the chocolate pot off the stove and slammed it down on the counter a little harder than necessary. "Honestly, Damon? I am too tired to go through this right now and would like to finish this damn cake which you are making extremely hard to do so."

His glass empty, his smouldering dark eyes on me, "Fine." He stood up and stalked out the door.

Ugh! Why does he have to be so infuriating! I aggressively started beating the eggs and flour in the large floral patterned bowl. I threw the dirty spoon into the sink, followed by the empty measuring cup which hit the spoon with a loud clatter. Leaning back against the counter behind me, I tried to calm myself before carrying on. Why do I still let him get to me? He is just as obnoxious as ever. Honestly I had thought he had let that side of him go, but now? It wasn't looking good.

But before I could carry on, in walked the man himself with a … iPod? My gaze followed him as he waltzed across the room and plugged the iPod into the docking station that stood on the counter. The music started instantaneously.

"Is that … Whitney Houston?" I asked disbelievingly.

Clock strikes on the hour

And the sun begins to fade …

"You have Whitney Houston on your iPod."

"Hey, Whitney was a blast, but no. Caroline's iPod was the only one I could find and unfortunately she has smothered it with songs for the wedding reception. And I thought maybe we could get a little practise in as we are the best man and the maid of honour and will have to share a dance." He winked suggestively. "And maybe we can lighten you up a bit while doing it."

I pouted. "I don't need lightening up," I protested, but to no avail for Damon walked straight up to me, yanked me forward and pushed me towards the bowl of ingredients.

"Now let's get this damn cake finished." And so we did.

Damon and I developed a routine, I mixed and ordered him about, he fetched the utensils I asked for and mocked my dancing, although his was just as bad.

It was only when Michael Buble's Sway started playing that the trouble started. As the rhythm started I felt his hands place themselves on the top of my thighs, pulling me against him, my back pressed to his chest. Trying to ignore the warm feel of his breath on my neck, I concentrated on my mixing. Before I knew it, Damon's hands were travelling up my sides. I couldn't help but gasp as his fingers brushed against the bare skin along my waist below my shirt. Encouraged by my reaction, his one hand released my skin, reached for my hand and brought it up around his neck. Slowly we began to sway to the music, his left hand gripping me tightly, his right brushing up and down my arm. With his lips at my ear, I allowed myself to close my eyes and lean into him. His lips brushed my ear and down along my neck before I could comprehend what it was that I was doing. His lips moved closer … closer.

The mood was cut by the Pointer Sisters.

The lively beat of I'm so Excited interrupted us, and Damon pulled me away from the counter and spun me out before pulling me back in. In his arms, I circled around the room, laughing until the tears poured down my cheeks and God, could this man dance. We swirled, dipped, twirled until we collapsed in a heap on the floor. I don't know how long we sat there, but it felt like hours.

Suddenly, Damon stood and reached for my hand to pull me up; a slow song had started. It was Hungry Eyes from Dirty Dancing. Fitting, I thought, mentally rolling my eyes.

Damon pulled me close to him, wrapped his arm around my waist, taking my hand in his. Letting him, I placed my free hand on his shoulder and slowly let him lead. "Good practise," He said to me as he looked down at my face. I could see in his eyes that he was smiling, even though his mouth was still, but there was also a hint of seriousness behind those orbs.

To lighten the mood I started a conversation, "You're a good dancer. Surprisingly," I added. That cracked a smile.

"I have moves you've never seen." He replied, winking, which left me smiling. Automatically my hand travelled up his neck, stroking the fine hairs I found there. His smile was gone. A tango had started, El Tango de Roxanne.

The dramatic music had Damon tightening his hold on me, his eyes smouldering and boring into mine. There was a hunger behind his look, for what I wasn't sure. He led me in a vicious tango. I became absorbed in our movements, absorbed in his eyes, absorbed in him. My legs tangoed with his, become more intense as the tempo increased, more passionate. My fingers curled in his hair, trying to bring him closer and on the final note … we came to halt, the power cutting off as well leaving us in total darkness and silence, the only sound being our mixed breaths and my clamouring heart.

Damon released me and went to try the light switch. "Must be the mains," he murmured before walked out the door, leaving me staring after his retreating form. Hastily, I fled the room before he could return. Feeling my way along the walls of the stair case and the passage, I found the door to my room, yanked it open and shut it firmly behind me. I leant back against the door to try and catch my breath before sinking down to the floor and burying my head in my hands. What had I done? What had we done? God, this was a mess. I couldn't get involved. Yes, I missed him, but I liked living in New York and had built my life there. I couldn't drop it all. Or could I? I just felt so confused. And what about Damon? Would he have kissed me? Or was he just being his obnoxious taunting self? Was this some kind of revenge?

The lights flickering on quickly jerked me out of my postulations, causing me to look around my room. A shower. I needed a shower.

The warm sprays wiped my mind of all my thoughts and I was able to peacefully sink under the covers of the bed. On the bedside table I noticed two sticky notes that I had not seen before. The first one was from Caroline; 'Lena, thanks for doing the cake for me. Dinner is at 7. Dress formal. Stefan and I will be out tomorrow until 4 so you can have a lie in. X C

Shit! The cake! No, I'm tired. I will have time to do it tomorrow. I looked at the other note, Cake is in the fridge. Thank you for the dance. X

I didn't need a signature to know who it was from. He had probably snuck in while I was in the shower, damned vampire speed. Damon. So Damon. And with his name on my lips, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.