Disclaimer: Not my characters, obviously. Just playing in their world for a while. ;)

Author's note: Thanks for the reviews, faves, and follows! This was a really fun chapter to write. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Lemony goodness incoming. :)

"Wait For Me to Come Home"

Chapter Ten

Loving can heal
Loving can mend your soul

"So, where to?" Damon asked, tossing the last suitcase into Elena's SUV. "I'd give just about anything to spend a week in my bed, but that's obviously not an option," he muttered, slamming the door shut.

He was eager to escape the non-stop blur of activity that had been their day so far. After spending a few more quiet moments in the yard with his brother, he'd promised to check back in after taking some time to just be for a while. The two of them had then joined Elena and the others upstairs, and if he'd been shocked by Stefan's greeting, it was nothing compared to the surprise hug bestowed upon him by Little Gilbert. Even Caroline had offered him a friendly smile, which was saying something.

They'd stayed for most of the morning, Stefan and Caroline working together to prepare a breakfast big enough for an army—pancakes, waffles, eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, hash browns—you name it, they cooked it. Apparently, the pair had grown quite close over the summer. It'd been good to see Stefan cracking jokes and participating in the general camaraderie. Caroline had even succeeded in coaxing more than one grin onto his face as they'd put together their spread.

Speaking of smiling, Damon had spent most of his time watching Elena laugh and catch up with her brother and friends. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. He loved seeing her happy again, especially after what she'd put herself through to bring him and Bonnie back.

When Alaric brought out his best bottle of bourbon, he and Damon had shared a drink for old times' sake. After they'd clinked glasses and downed the first round of life-affirming liquid, they'd polished off two more because if they didn't defend their reputation as accomplished day drinkers, who would?

Around noon, the party had started to wind down, people leaving for their respective destinations: Matt was dropping Tyler off at his dorm before driving back to Mystic Falls; Jeremy and Bonnie, hand in hand, were headed to the Forbes cabin; Stefan and Caroline were planning to spend the rest of the day apartment hunting; and Alaric was late for his lunch date with a sexy doctor lady he'd met at the college.

After Elena had gathered whatever clothes she could find at Ric's—Caroline had packed up Elena's things from their dorm room and stored them at his apartment until she returned for them—they'd thrown everything into suitcases. Unfortunately, there had only been a few of Damon's shirts and one pair of his jeans in amongst Elena's stuff, so they were going to have to go shopping at some point. In the meantime, Damon had no problem ditching clothes entirely if it came to that and he'd told her so, delighting in the blush that had stained her cheeks.

As Elena came around the front of the vehicle and reached for the handle to the driver's side door, Damon intercepted her, whirling her around and pinning her against the car parked next to hers.

"Damon!" she squealed. "What if there's an alarm—"

He silenced her with a kiss, his mouth covering hers. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, demanding entrance. When she opened to him, he took full advantage, practically devouring her as they each fought for control of the kiss. Finally pulling back, he nipped her bottom lip. "Mmm, delicious. You were saying?"

"Never mind," Elena panted. She leaned her head on the cool metal of the car while she caught her breath. "I was thinking we could go to the lake house. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect. Mind if I drive? I've had enough of being a passenger for one day." His hand slid down her side and over her hip until it came to rest on the waistband of her jeans.

"Sure, go for it," she murmured, watching him with a slightly dazed expression.

"Oh, I intend to, baby," he teased as he slipped his fingers inside her pocket, taking his sweet time pulling out the keys.

When he dangled them in front of her with a wicked grin, she swatted his arm. "You're incorrigible."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet."

###

When Damon brought the SUV to a stop in front of her family's lake house, Elena glanced over at the man sitting beside her. She still couldn't believe he was here with her; she felt like she needed to keep pinching herself as a reminder that this was really happening.

Noticing that Damon was being uncharacteristically quiet, she reached over and squeezed his hand. "Hey. Is everything okay? You haven't said a word since we left the store." She gestured toward the cabin. "Is it this place? I know when we were here last, things were pretty messed up with Jeremy being a hunter and the sire bond…" she trailed off, not wanting to resurrect memories better left in the past. "We can go somewhere else if you want."

"No, it's fine. This works." He turned to face her, giving her one of his patented melt-your-heart smiles. "Just thinking is all. While I was… wherever, I would try to imagine what it would be like to see you again, be with you again. I never thought I'd be lucky enough to find out."

Leaning over, she curled her hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a leisurely kiss. She took her time, exploring his mouth and running her tongue over his teeth until she felt the sharp tip of one of his fangs.

She sat back with a breathless laugh. "Hungry?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. For you," he said pointedly, letting his eyes roam over her body.

"Are you adopting the Mikael diet now?" she asked, cocking a brow.

"Nah. The only vamp I'm interested in feasting on is you."

"Good to know." Giving him a sly grin, she unbuckled her seat belt. "How about we unload this stuff, and then we'll discuss this feast you're planning."

"Tease," he chided, hitting the button that unlocked the rear hatch before hopping out and opening Elena's door for her.

Between the two of them, they carted the luggage and groceries into the house in record time. After making a pit stop at a blood bank along the way, they had enough of a supply to last them a week.

Once everything had been brought inside, Elena busied herself transferring the eggs, milk, and other perishables into the fridge and freezer. When she discovered the last item in the bag, she burst out laughing. Holding up the pint of Ben and Jerry's Karamel Sutra ice cream, she waved it in Damon's direction. "This is your contribution, I presume?"

"Guilty. Seems appropriate though, wouldn't you agree?" He wiggled his brows for good measure.

"Listen, Mr. One-Track-Mind. Why don't you take a quick shower and change into some fresh clothes while I get dinner ready?"

"Is that a good idea? Should I alert the fire department?" he asked, shooting her a look of mock horror.

"Hey!" Plucking an apple off the counter, she lobbed it at him, unsurprised when he caught it and immediately took a big bite out of it.

"Thanks for the snack." Giving her his signature smirk, he zipped up the stairs, disappearing from sight.

After a few minutes, the shower came on followed by Damon's unexpectedly decent rendition of "I Want to Know What Love Is."

"Keep that up, and I'll drag you to a karaoke bar!" she hollered just to make sure he heard her over the sound of the water and his raised-lighter-worthy performance. When the singing only got louder in response, she giggled at his antics. "Honestly…"

Moving quickly, she put two pots on the stove—one for pasta, one for sauce—and searched the cupboards for a cutting board to slice up the fresh Italian bread she'd selected. Starting the water so it would be boiling by the time she returned, she ran out to the garage to collect some wood. Three armloads later, she was kneeling in front of the fireplace, coaxing a small flame into a snapping, crackling blaze.

Satisfied with her work, she made her way to the kitchen. Adding pasta to the bubbling pot of water, she emptied a jar of spaghetti sauce into the other one. She was in the middle of cutting up the bread when a creak on the stairs announced Damon's presence. "That wasn't very stealthy of you," she commented, sawing into the loaf. "I think you're losing your touch."

"Well, I didn't want to startle you while you were wielding that machete. Don't you have a bread knife? You're massacring it."

Ignoring him while he rattled around in the drawers looking for the proper knife, she wasn't prepared when he reappeared in her line of vision. Shirtless.

"Jesus, Damon. Don't you give warnings? I nearly cut off my finger." Her gaze wandered from his tousled, damp hair, to his glittering blue eyes and ever-tempting lips, down his chest and abdomen—dotted with a few stray water droplets—to the waistband of the low-slung jeans that were clinging precariously to his hips. Swallowing thickly, she refocused her attention on the mangled bread in front of her. "I packed shirts for you, you know."

"Yeah, but it's hot in here." He nudged her with his hip, directing her toward the stove. "You take care of that, and I'll deal with this."

"Fine," she grumbled, picking up a spoon to stir the sauce. "And it's not that hot in here. You're just trying to distract me."

Anticipating his next move, she was ready when she felt his warm breath against her neck. "Is it working?"

Unfortunately, it didn't stop the shiver that went through her. "What do you think?" she murmured, rubbing her arms as goose bumps erupted all over her skin.

"I. Think. You're. Wearing. Too. Many. Clothes." Each word was punctuated with a kiss as he traced a path from her throat to her collarbone.

She tilted her head back to give him better access. "I don't know. Naked cooking doesn't seem like a good idea," she said, eyeing the pot of boiling pasta.

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it, although I wouldn't recommend frying anything, especially bacon. Hurts like a bitch." Brushing his lips along her jaw, he finally pulled away, returning to his bread-slicing duties.

"Now who's the tease?" she muttered, draining the pasta in the sink while he chuckled behind her. Checking the sauce once more, she collected plates, silverware, and glasses and set everything on the counter. "Where should we eat? Kitchen? Living room?"

"In there." He pointed toward the couch situated in front of the fireplace. "You started a fire; we should enjoy it."

He took a bottle of red wine out of the refrigerator and poured both of them a glass while Elena dished up the spaghetti, adding a piece of Damon's perfectly cut bread to each plate. Carrying their dinner into the living room, they settled on the overstuffed couch. Watching Damon as he twirled some pasta around his fork, she was surprised when he raised it to her mouth. "What are you doing?"

"Feeding you," he answered, smearing some of the sauce on her bottom lip. "Open up."

She did as he asked, taking the bite of food and chewing slowly. She didn't miss the way his eyes zeroed in on her tongue when she licked the sauce off her lip. Loading up her own fork, she held it in front of him. "Your turn."

They alternated between trading forkfuls of spaghetti and bits of bread until their plates were nearly empty. Unable to keep her questions at bay any longer, Elena sipped her wine and glanced at Damon. "What was it like where you were?"

He sat quietly, staring into the flames until Elena began to wonder if she shouldn't have asked. When he spoke at last, he sounded like he was a million miles away. "It was empty. There was light and warmth but no scenery or substance. It didn't bother me in the beginning, but toward the end, it felt like a prison."

Reaching over, she took his hand in hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. "You were sharing your memories with me, weren't you? At first, I thought I was just dreaming of our time together, but then I saw things that couldn't possibly have been my own memories. How did you know I'd be able to see them?"

"I didn't, at least not until I started having visions of you and feeling what you felt—grief, anger, fear, pain. I saw you get attacked by a witch and some weird chanting guy. Then you were in New Orleans, and all I could think about was Klaus getting his homicidal maniac on. It drove me fucking crazy not being able to help you. If anything had happened to you…" he left the dark thought unfinished.

She cupped his face, running her fingers over the light stubble on his cheek. "I'm fine, Damon. Nothing serious happened." Trying to divert his attention, she picked a different topic. "What about Bonnie? Could you talk to her?"

"We couldn't see each other; we didn't have physical forms, but we would pick up on each other's thoughts every now and then. That helped keep me sane, along with the memories and my connection to you." He closed his eyes briefly, and when they reopened, they were a darker shade of blue. More intense. "Can we postpone the rest of the conversation until later? I'd rather focus on the here and now."

"Of course." Gathering the last of the pasta on her fork, she offered it to him. When he leaned forward to take it, a drop of sauce landed on his bare chest. "Oops, sorry."

"You did that on purpose," he said, grinning at her faux apology.

"Did I? Oh, well. I'm sure you won't mind if I just clean it up real quick." Pushing him backward until he was lying flat on the couch, she straddled his thighs. Bracing her arms on either side of him, she lowered her head, her tongue darting out to clean the sauce from his skin. She continued to torment him long after the spot was gone, slowly licking her way up his chest. Letting her fangs descend, she dragged the tip of one over his nipple, smiling at the growl that rumbled deep in his throat.

Before she could attend to the other nipple, he snagged her in his arms, flew up off the couch, and deposited her on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. With their positions reversed, Elena gave him a smug look. "Guess you're not the only one who likes using his teeth for a little sensual torture."

###

"Remember that, do you?" Damon asked as he settled over Elena's prone form. Parting her legs with his knee, he pressed his thigh against her core. He smiled down at her as she nodded, rocking her hips in an attempt to create the friction she was seeking. "This time it's not just in our heads, baby."

"That's a good thing," she moaned, scratching her nails lightly down his chest and belly until her fingers encountered the prominent bulge in the front of his jeans. Giving him a gentle squeeze, she started to undo the button when he grabbed her hand, stopping her.

"Uh-uh. You're wildly overdressed, and I intend to remedy that." Reaching for the hem of her shirt, he tugged it up and over her head. Next, he briefly shifted position so he could unzip her jeans and slide them off her long legs. Sitting back, he took a moment to admire Elena sprawled in front of him bathed in the warm light of the fire, wearing nothing but her black lace bra and a pair of matching panties. "Much better."

"Glad you approve. Now, can we talk about ditching your pants?"

"Not just yet. I don't want to rush this. I plan on savoring every second," he whispered.

She groaned. "You're going to make me go insane, aren't you?"

"Only in the best ways," he assured her, crawling up her body until he was at eye level with her lace-covered breasts. He used his tongue to tease her already hard nipples, licking and nipping her through the fabric. When she arched her back, he slid a finger underneath the front of her bra, releasing the clasp and parting the two halves. Taking a nipple in his mouth, he suckled and tugged on the firm nub until she cried out, her legs scissoring furiously.

Trailing a hand down her side, over her stomach, and between her tense thighs, he managed to spread her legs just enough to attend to the spot where she needed him most. Moving her damp panties out of the way, he eased a finger inside of her, biting back a moan as he felt how ready she was for him.

Elena's nails dug into his shoulders as she writhed beneath him. "Damon," she panted, "I know you want to make this last, but I can't wait much longer."

"Hang on, sweetheart," he soothed. Standing up, he shucked off his jeans and tossed them on a nearby chair before rejoining her on the rug. While she pulled her bra the rest of the way off and shimmied out of her undies, he laid down beside her. Correctly guessing his intentions, she straddled his hips, his erection brushing against her lower belly. Lifting up, she positioned him at her entrance and slowly lowered herself onto his cock. They groaned in unison as she paused to let her body readjust to his impressive size.

Once he was buried to the hilt in her tight sheath, he grasped her hips, raising her up and letting her sink back down on his thick shaft. He repeated the action once, twice, three times until she reached for his hands, intertwining their fingers and using the support to set her own rhythm.

As Damon watched her graceful movements become pleasured abandon, he knew this moment would be seared into his memory forever. The sight of her—head thrown back in ecstasy, the red undertones in her hair emphasized by the firelight, her full breasts bobbing as she rode him—was pushing him ever closer to the edge. When Elena's slick walls clenched around his cock, gripping him in her velvet heat, he gritted his teeth and tried to stave off his impending orgasm.

Sitting up, he swept her hair aside and nuzzled her throat, thrusting into her as she continued to bounce on his lap. Tracing her throbbing vein with his tongue, he felt his fangs punch out of his gums, eager for a taste of her. Snaking a hand between them, he rubbed his thumb over her clit until she was bucking against him. As he sank his teeth into her neck, she screamed out his name, her release crashing into her. With one last jerk of his hips, Damon followed her into oblivion, his shout echoing through the house. "Fuck, Elena!"

Easing them back down to the floor, he gently laved the blood from the rapidly disappearing puncture marks he'd left on her throat. She shuddered in his arms, a small sigh of contentment slipping past her lips. "Can we stay like this forever?" she asked, resting her head on his chest.

"Works for me." He combed his fingers through her tousled locks, basking in the aftermath of his true reunion with the amazing woman who was now scattering tiny kisses over his heated skin. "I love you, 'Lena."

She gazed up at him, her beautiful brown eyes glowing with happiness. "Love you, Damon. Always."