A/N: Thanks to my beta-readers AJ and Jenn (ElvishGrrl). Their works are amazing. Check them out if you can handle the awesomeness. Thanks for the feedback from my pre-readers LokYa and ohemgeeitscoley.
Also worth a mention – the KMBMH prayer circle on Twitter for their…well, prayers, and ayna93 for her quiet and consistent support on updating this story.
Chapter Eleven
I Need A Real Chance
"Are you serious?" Elena asked him, her heart skipping into overdrive at the thought.
"A little boy, or girl. You, me, and a family, 'Lena."
Elena allowed herself to indulge in the fantasy Damon's words conjured; a fantasy somewhat aided by the fact that she could feel his erection pressed against her. Seeing or feeling him aroused was all it took for her to want and need him all over again. Damon picked up on it immediately, a slow smirk spreading over his face. He was now so completely in tune with her – he never missed a beat, never failed to realize the effect he had on her. He'd been oblivious to her desire for so long, but now he read her as if they'd been lovers forever.
The thought shouldn't scare her, but it did. Then again, whenever she let herself think beyond this week she could feel the fear and the doubts settling back in. That wasn't fair to either of them. She wanted to live in the moment while they were here, and enjoy what was happening between them. She was doing her best to stay focused on the here and the now. She didn't want to contemplate what might happen when they returned home. She wasn't prepared to. Not now. Why ruin everything with dreams or promises that may not come true?
"Damon-"
"I'm not saying we should try, only that I wouldn't hate it if it happened."
"I know. It's just that…I'm having so much fun with you," she said to him, smiling to let him know just how happy she was with the way things were between them right now. "I just want us to enjoy this week."
"In other words, we don't get to talk about the future while we're here?"
Damon cursed silently as he watched Elena's smile waver. Of course they weren't allowed to talk about the future. How could he have possibly forgotten that this whole week was just a trial run, a test? That he was supposed to be convincing Elena that he loved her and cared about her, and that his feelings for her were genuine? Yet, for a moment he had forgotten, because he was already so certain of his love for her. He felt no doubt.
He tried to shrug off the disappointment, regret, and hurt that she wasn't convinced he loved her already. It wasn't like he could really expect to make up for ten years of rejection with a few days of loving her, could he? So, what makes you think you can convince her in a week, you idiot?
Why had he only asked for a week? What if she still didn't want to talk about the future when they left the island in a few days? What if she didn't give him a chance when they got back home? What if she told him she thought they should stop seeing each other and go back to being just friends?
He felt desperation trying to claw its way out of him. It was too damn easy to screw this up.
"I want to take each day as it comes. Is that okay?" she asked him.
She was watching him nervously, as if she was afraid that her response wasn't what he wanted to hear. Well, of course it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "I'm having fun right now, and I just want to enjoy the week," wasn't among the top ten survey responses to the suggestion of children. And despite the fact that she didn't mean it as a rejection, it still felt like one.
It was this fear of rejection that had made him keep everybody at a distance his whole life, but he'd lost Elena once already by acting that way. He knew the devastation he would face if he lost her again. His only option was to keep trying his new approach – the one involving him being open and vulnerable with her – no matter how much it scared the absolute shit out of him.
Time was running out. He didn't have time to panic. He had to be patient and demonstrative. After all, how could he expect her to conquer her fears if he couldn't conquer his own?
"Damon?"
"I understand that you don't want to talk about the future right now."
"You do?" she asked him, sounding relieved.
"Yes, I do, but I can't help wanting to talk about it with you," he told her.
"Damon…"
"This thing between us is so new and exciting for me, 'Lena. I've never felt this way before. I've never wanted someone the way I want you. I've never imagined sharing my life with anyone the way I imagine sharing it with you. It's easy for me to forget we're only dealing with right now – that we're not supposed to be thinking about what happens next."
Her gaze was so soft and tender, but also uncertain. "But children, Damon? Even if we were talking about the future, it's too soon."
"Okay, so I jumped the gun a little."
She smiled gently at him. "A little? We've only been together for two days."
"But you've been in love with me for ten years. And I have no idea how long I've loved you and just never realized it. I know you better than anyone. We've been friends for so long."
The mood for lovemaking having passed somewhat, Damon stepped away from her before walking to the bed and slipping into it. Elena followed him and slid into bed beside him. Automatically, they turned on their sides so that they were facing each other.
"It's just that I've never once heard you talk about children before this week," she told him.
"Things change," he said to her, before raising an eyebrow and stroking her face. He felt gratified when she closed her eyes, her enjoyment of his touch obvious.
"You're telling me you want children?"
"One day, yes."
Her eyes opened and locked with his. "When did you make that decision?"
He shrugged. "I don't know exactly. I had a dream a few nights back," he admitted. "The first night we were here I dreamt that I was watching you and your Mr. X with a family."
"You dreamt about my Mr. X?" she asked him, her amusement evident. "What did he look like? Did he look like you, or did he look more like Damien Price?"
Damon couldn't help but smile at the reference to the insurance salesman he'd asked her about on the same night. He'd been so determined to guess the identity of her mystery man. He'd been such a dumb-ass.
"I couldn't see his face," he told her. "It was as if it had been blanked out."
"He was faceless? You really didn't think much of my taste, did you?" she joked.
"It was my nightmare, 'Lena," he said to her seriously. "He was sitting down at a dining room table with you and your two children, eating a meal, while I was starving and trapped out in the cold, watching you."
"That was the dream that I woke you up from?" Elena asked him.
"I was pounding on the window and trying to get you to let me in, but you couldn't hear me."
The symbolism of his dream was glaringly obvious to Elena. He'd been afraid that her involvement with her mystery man would leave him hungry, cold, and alone – in other words abandoned all over again. His fear of being abandoned and rejected was so strong. How would she ever know if his desire to be with her was born out of his love for her, or his fear of losing her?
See, this was exactly why she didn't want to think about the future. They'd had two perfect days, but doubt and uncertainty lingered on the fringe of her consciousness, and it would gnaw away at her if she let it. She had to keep a firm grip on the doubts, for the rest of the week at least. She closed her eyes, and tried to push them away now. She could do this. She'd told him she would give him this week and she would.
"Elena?"
Damon watched the emotions flickering across her face as she sat beside him, the uncertainty he dreaded clouding her eyes as she looked back at him. He had to keep pushing through her doubts.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he said when she remained quiet.
"Nothing," she told him.
"We've spent the past ten years hiding how we feel, or denying it. Can we at least be honest with each other now?"
She sighed. "I was just thinking about your dream…about what it meant."
"And?"
"And it really doesn't matter what I think."
"Of course it matters what you think. I want to hear it."
"They were just silly thoughts."
"I don't care. I want to hear them."
"I was just thinking your dream showed that you might have been afraid. Afraid that if I was with someone else, I'd abandon you, forget you."
Of course she would see it that way, Damon thought. He'd shared something with her and she'd seen it as evidence to back up her beliefs that his desire to be with her was about his fear of losing her. Patience, he reminded himself. This week he would have to have unfailing patience.
He loved her, and she would see it. He had to believe that she would see it. He would give her the time. He would give her anything she wanted. But he wouldn't let her lie there and slip into thinking that what he felt wasn't genuine without a fight.
"Or," he said to her, "you could look at it as my jealousy over what this other man had with you – of what I wanted, but didn't know consciously."
Elena nodded, not wanting to argue with him. He would want her to see it that way.
"You're supposed to be giving me a chance, 'Lena," he said to her gently. "A real chance."
"I am."
"Are you?"
"Yes."
"If you keep looking for proof that I'm with you because I'm afraid of losing you, you're going to find it," he pointed out. "Do us both a favor and start looking for the proof that I'm head over heels in love with you, because it's there too. I need a real chance, Elena."
Elena was trying her hardest to believe that this was all real. She wanted to believe it was real. She was trying to keep the doubts at bay, she really was. It just wasn't always as easy as she would like – as he wanted it to be.
She'd come to Heaven's Isle prepared to let him go because she'd thought he loved someone else. Letting go of that idea, and truly believing his heart belonged to her was slightly terrifying. But that didn't mean she didn't want to. She hated the idea that she was robbing both of them of their happiness by being so terrified that she actually missed the signs she was supposed to see.
"I know you're afraid," he said to her softly, "but I need you to let go. I need you to let me in and be open to this."
"I know. I really am trying. I do want to see it," she told him determinedly. "I do."
"Then see it," he told her warmly as he stared into her eyes.
Elena didn't know what else to say, so she did what she'd done every time she felt scared or unsure or insecure over the past two days – she reached for him. She put one hand behind his head so she could drag his mouth to hers. He resisted only for a second, before he gave her what she wanted – the chance to lose herself in his kiss.
Her body's response to him was always so overwhelming that she forgot everything else around them existed. It was the way her heart beat out a crazy tattoo. It was the sudden rush of her blood around her body, and the warmth that came right along with it. It was the sudden thrum of energy sizzling along her skin where it touched his, and the way his arousal excited her beyond anything else she'd ever experienced. But most of all it was the way that when he was inside her, every single fear melted away in the face of her ecstasy.
Damon knew exactly what Elena was doing. She was looking for assurance in the one area she knew how to take it – their physical relationship.
She'd taken the upper hand and initiated their sexual encounters so much over the past few days, and he'd thought it was her confidence in them growing – that she wanted to explore him in a way that she had never felt able to before. But now he realized that it was something more than that. She found it easier to hide her doubts and fears and forget they existed when they were being intimate.
He wanted to bring it to her attention, but little nips and bites and soft kisses quickly turned into long, slow, melting kisses that turned him inside out. If this was what she needed, he would let her take it. If he had to make love to her ten times a night for the rest of his life to make her feel safe and loved, then that was what he would do. At least she was looking for assurance. At least she'd told him she wanted to see his love for her.
He shouldn't be surprised by the fact that she felt somewhat assured when they were in the bedroom. His response to her was so swift and so obvious that she couldn't deny that his lust at least was very real.
Every time he was near her he couldn't think past merging his body with hers. She was already lying partly underneath him now, and it was easy enough to move so that he was between her legs, the tip of him immediately sliding against her hot and wet center. He almost exploded as she tried to push onto him.
"Damon."
He heard the desperation in her voice – the blatant need to have him inside of her. If it was any other time he might have enjoyed teasing her a little, torturing her with his kisses and with his touch, but right now she needed this, and he did too. Tonight, though, he had no intention of letting her avoid her doubts through their lovemaking. Tonight, he would make her face the love he felt for her. He wasn't going to give her a chance to turn away from it – to miss it.
Her hands and mouth were greedy and desperate on him, willing him to go through with what he'd started, but he waited for her to look right at him before he surged into her waiting heat, filling her to the hilt. She responded with nothing more than a moan of complete and utter satisfaction and fulfillment; her body embracing his in every possible way.
"I love you, Elena," he leaned in and whispered in her ear.
When her eyes locked with his again he knew she was hearing him, seeing him, feeling him. One day very soon he hoped she would believe him.
Elena couldn't stop giggling as Damon dipped her on the dance floor. He smirked down at her, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he held her there. The beat of the music could be felt under her feet, and her heart felt as if it was dancing in her rib cage. The loud Latin music was causing quite a stir and the majority of the Smith's guests had gathered on the ballroom dance floor to dance the night away.
No expense had been spared on the lavish party that the Smith brothers were throwing for their final evening on Heaven's Isle. Many of the advertising company's clients had been flown in for the last days on the island, and the past forty-eight hours had been all about schmoozing. Not that Damon had for a minute seemed interested in doing anything other than worshiping her in whatever way she would let him.
When he finally pulled her back up, she barely had time to find her feet before he was spinning her out and then pulling her to him, so that her body was plied against his. His hands roved over her body hungrily before he spun her round so her back was pressed to his chest, and his hands continued their exploration.
"Damon," she gasped as one of his hands skimmed over one of her breasts.
He turned her around to face him. Her breath caught as she looked into his eyes. She'd known that this was likely to happen, hadn't she? When she'd agreed to this week she'd known that there was an excellent chance that she'd fall even further in love with her best friend. It had been unavoidable. Unstoppable. The moment she'd really let her guard down, she'd fallen harder and further than she'd ever thought possible.
They were flying home tomorrow. That thought had been weighing on her since she'd woken up this morning. She knew it was weighing on Damon too. She had felt it in the intensity of their lovemaking this morning, and again this evening before they'd left to attend the party. He'd been nothing but patient with her in the previous days, but she knew that he must be anxious about what would happen when they returned to Mystic Falls. She'd put off thinking about what happened when they left the island, but she couldn't put it off any longer.
Damon had asked her to look for the proof that he was in love with her, and she had looked for it. At some point over the past few days, however, it had just stopped mattering whether he was or wasn't in love with her – whether it was real or imagined. The love she felt for him simply consumed her. At one time she might have thought that setting him free with the promise of unconditional friendship was the right thing to do here, but that no longer felt like an option. Ending their romantic relationship when they got home had suddenly become unimaginable.
Besides, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that he did love her, was it? He'd said it to her enough over the past few days. Why couldn't she take what he said to her at face value? Why did she have to weigh and measure what he was feeling for her, to see if it added up to what she felt? She loved him. She wanted him. She couldn't let him go. It was that simple.
Her decision finally made about their return home, she relaxed a little. They'd make it work. She could trust Damon to tell her if he changed his mind about them, couldn't she?
The music changed from fast paced to slow and Elena twined her arms around Damon's neck as he wrapped his around her waist.
"I love you," she told him as they swayed to the music together.
He answered her by lowering his mouth to hers. He brushed his lips over hers. Once. Twice. Then he was kissing her softly, his tongue tracing her bottom lip until her mouth opened under his and his tongue stroked hers. She was vaguely aware of the fact they'd stopped swaying to the music as their kisses grew hotter and more intense. This time, when she felt his purely male response to their proximity and kisses on the dance floor, she knew he wasn't thinking about anyone but her.
He made a noise in the back of his throat as she pressed herself closer to him. It was primal, possessive, fierce. The clutch of desire; the hot wet throb between her legs was quickly almost unbearable.
"Ah-hem."
The sound of someone clearing their throat worked to bring her back to the present moment and effectively clear the lustful haze she'd fallen into almost immediately.
"Damon, I do understand what it's like to be carried away with a beautiful woman," Elijah said to him, "but please remember that this is still technically a work event."
Damon nodded, and Elena felt herself blush a deep crimson. She'd been so carried away. They both had.
"Carl Brewis would like a word," Elijah told Damon. "That is, if you think you can tear yourselves apart. He'd like to discuss some of the new ideas he's come up with for the campaign."
Elena nodded when Damon looked at her. "Go," she said, giving him a smile. "Good luck."
He'd been after the Brewis Beer account for some time, as had Stefan. Elena wanted Damon to land it if he had the opportunity.
"I won't be long," he told her, dropping a quick kiss on her lips.
She watched him walk away with Elijah, eager for him to go and return to her so they could go back to their room so she could tell him she wanted them to be together when they got home, and then spend the next hours caught up in passion.
She was still smiling from the thought when she felt cold fingers touch her on the forearm.
"Hello, Elena," Katherine purred beside her.
A/N: I know I kept you waiting for this update. The reasons for the delay have been posted about on my LJ page. For those of you who haven't read it, please accept my apology for the long wait.
There were more than a few times when I seriously considered pulling this fic down. I had so much fear I was going to disappoint you all. In the end, however, I decided it would be more disappointing not to finish this. To all of my readers who have supported and stuck by me, please know I appreciate every one of you more than you could know. Big fandom hugs. The next update won't be too far away. I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter. Thanks for reading, and please review.
