How much bliss can one person take? Elena wondered. It was rhetorical, a question she didn't want to answer in case she had reached her limit. She would just keep testing the boundaries of happiness with Damon. She didn't know the world could be this bright, that sex could be this good, this meaningful. Every time they were together, he entrenched himself more deeply, seeping through her pores. He had worked himself into her crevices, woven himself into the pattern of her life so intricately, she would have to pick him out slowly and painfully with something sharp to separate him from the fibers of her heart. She didn't know she had this in her, but Damon had been digging around inside her, unearthing things she thought were for other women. Not for her.
"Well, that was fun," Damon said, holding Elena's hand in the backseat of the SUV as they left François's atelier in the Meatpacking District.
"Yeah, that was supposed to be my fitting, but François spent more time oohing and aahing over those shoulders and that ass of yours." They shared a grin, fingers locked and caressing. "I knew François would have a ball with a strapping fellow like you."
"I'm not sure I like the term 'strapping,'" Damon saidl. "Makes me feel like Paul Bunyan."
"That sounds about right." Elena laughed.
"You should see my brother. He is slightly taller than I am."
"Good grief. Is he as gorgeous as you are?"
"Stefan is handsome but not sexy and irresistible like I'm." Damon winked, a smile creasing his handsome face. "And my mum is a beauty."
He hesitated, studying their hands before looking back up at Elena.
"I would love for you to meet them."
Elena gulped. "Um…wow. I don't know. Maybe someday."
"What about Thanksgiving?" His eyes stayed steady on her face, but she felt his fingers tightened around hers "Based on where things stand with your parents, I wouldn't trust you with a carving knife around them. Doubt you will be eating turkey at home."
"Yeah." Elena smiled so stiffly it felt like a cramp across her lips. "Especially not after my mother's latest statement."
A reporter asked Miranda about Elena's involvement with Liam Davis ten years ago. Miranda recalled her daugther as "troubled" and emotionally unstable during that time. She said her daugther acted erratically, abandoning her college plans and moving "on a whim" to Milan. She also added that her daugther was under a psychiatrist's care around that time.
It was true that after Liam raped her, she had changed her mind about college and saw a therapist for two years trying to recover. As expected, her mother would distort and use that information against her.
"Elena?" Damon brushed his thumb over her cheekbone, luring her away from her thoughts and back into the conversation.
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I said so why not spend Thanksgiving with my family?"
"That is in less than a month, Damon." Elena pulled her fingers away from his to toy with a zipper on her skirt. "We haven't been…well, we have only been…"
"Dating?" He leaned forward, eyebrows lifted. "Is that the word you are searching for?"
"I guess that word will do." A nervous grin played across Elena's lips. "It is just…am I really the girl you want to bring home to mama right now? I'm freaking notorious, and I bet your mother teaches Sunday school."
"You called it." Damon chuckled, taking her fingers back. "Every Sunday for twenty-five years."
"You don't think she has read all the stuff Liam's campaign has said about me?" Elena melted into the leather seat at her back, shame slinking through her belly at the thought of Damon's churchgoing mother knowing all her exploits.
"I think she knows her son." Damon tipped up her chin, plumbing her eyes. "She knows I'm not a fool, and that I'm an excellent judge of character."
"Maybe you are having a lapse of judgment." Elena's harsh laugh cut into the air between them. "I have been known to have that effect on men before."
"What have I told you about comparing me to them?" Irritation thinned Damon's full lips. "I don't care who you have been with before. You are with me now."
Every time Elena thought she could get lost in this thing with Damon, something reminded her that he deserved better. Avoiding blogs and working from home for a few days hadn't made her problems go away. And so far, no one else had stepped forward with allegations against Liam. So it was just her, hanging out to dry, making a stand that might not even do any good. That might just leave her life in ruins, but not fix anything.
"I want you embedded in my life, Elena." Damon's fingers tangled in the hair at her neck, telegraphing tingles across her scalp. "And I promise you I'm going to be embedded in yours. Nothing will shake me loose."
He kissed her, sending his tongue diving deep, invading, marauding, taking his pleasure, all along the way giving her more than she thought her body could withstand. This pleasure, this special brand of pleasure, was wrapped in tenderness, spiked with care, and lined with an emotion she was afraid to name. Even when he moved to pull away, her lips clung to his. Her hands held his face so she could greedily take more, savouring him, savouring these moments because something this good couldn't last. Not for her.
"We are here, sweetheart," he whispered against her lips. "I just need to grab a few things from my office, and then we can head back to your place."
Elena looked at the Brooklyn brownstone she hadn't been back to since he left for South Africa. She knew Enzo and Rose were back. She was still smarting from the disapproval that bloggers, Liam's supporters, and the media dish out virtually. She didn't need an in-person dose from Damon's assistant.
"I will wait here." Elena reached down for her iPad, setting it on her lap.
"No, you won't." Damon pushed the iPad off to the side. "Come inside. Say hi to my friends."
"Damon, they don't like me." Elena swallowed the hurt swelling in her throat. "Rose doesn't like me, and I can't promise that my inner bitch won't show her ugly face if that woman pushes me too far."
"Does she have doubts?" Damon leaned his arms above his head against the car, looking back at Elena unwaveringly, honestly. "Yes."
Elena dropped her eyes and reached for the iPad again.
He leaned in and tossed the device to the floor mat, grabbed her hand, and gently tugged until she was standing sandwiched between his big body and the car.
"Do I give a damn?" He pressed his forehead to hers, breath on her lips. "Nope."
"Damon, I don't want to come between you and your friends."
"Then let's hope Rose doesn't make me choose." He clasped her waist, fingers splayed over her back. "Because she would get the very short end of that stick."
Even though Elena didn't want to cause strife between Damon and one of his closest friends, hearing that he would choose her was a feather floating in her chest. She would choose him over so many things that had been important to her in the past. She couldn't help but remember Kerris's impassioned speech about putting the person you loved before yourself because you knew they were doing the same. She realized for the first time that she would choose Damon over herself, and that scared the living crap out of her. This was as close to selflessness as she had ever come, and there was only one thing she could blame it on.
She was in love with Damon Salvatore.
Only she would have this epiphany on a busy Brooklyn street.
"You okay?" Damon studied Elena closely. "Let's get this over with so we can go back to your place."
"Um, yeah." She painted a fake smile on her face, feeling it dry and tighten at the edges. "Sure."
Elena followed Damon upstairs to his bedroom, and couldn't help but remember the last time they were in this room. She laid down on his bed, the divan cool at her back, stretching her arms over her head. Oh, if this bed could talk it would moan, she thought. Her eyes drift to where Damon flicked through a stack of papers on the desk in the corner, his powerful shoulders hunched, concentration wrinkling his expression into a frown. Even his frowns turned her on. The man was like a matador. Or maybe he was like a bull, and she was his matador, waving herself like a red flag every chance she got. Provoking him to lust and want and…
Elena couldn't fill in that blank. She had an epiphany on the street. It didn't mean Damon had the same. She knew he cared about her. But love? That was huge. That was something she had never considered. She had the artificial version with Aaron, basically an overgrown puppy love she should have shaken when he didn't take her to the prom. But this? This was different. It was all grown-up, all consuming. It was not only passion but a love which consumed her.
It was a secret she wanted to lock in her heart under a trap door covered by a thick rug. If there was one thing her father had taught her, it was that love was a luxury people like her couldn't afford. People with enemies. People with dark pasts. People with secrets. Love became a weapon, and she was in the fight of her life right now. She woudln't have anyone using Damon against her.
"Hey, I think what I need is downstairs in the office." Damon made his way over to the bed, running his eyes over Elena's body, lingering on her legs where her skirt was pulled up. He ran his finger from her knee up and over the sensitive skin inside her thigh. He dipped until his lips hovered over hers.
"You laid out on my bed like this," he said, eyes wicked. "Is that an invitation?"
Elena bent her knee so that his finger slid higher, closer to the heat centered between her legs.
"Do you accept?"
Damon chuckled and tapper her nose.
"You will not distract me." He dropped a quick kiss on her lips before straightening. "At least not here. Now when we get back to your place, you are all mine."
"Hmmmmm." Elena flicked her eyes up to the ceiling and then back to his smiling face. "You keep saying that."
"I keep meaning it." He gave her a wink before leaving the room.
Elena relished the quiet that took over the room, leaving space for her to hug her discovery close. She loved Damon Salvatore. Who would have thought that?
Approaching footsteps brought a smile to her face. She bent her knee higher, sliding the other leg to the side so he would see her black silk panties as soon as he walked through that door.
"Changed your mind?" Elena lifted up on her elbow, her sexy grin petrifying on her face when her eyes met Rose. She dropped her knee hastily, sitting up and pulling down her skirt. "Oh, Rose. Sorry. I thought you were—"
"Yeah, that was obvious." Rose glanced around the room. "I thought I heard Damon in here."
"He went downstairs to look for something before we go."
"So he is staying with you?" Rose asked, which Elena didn't think people could actually do, but she proved her wrong. "I hate that."
"You hate that he is staying with me?" Elena hackles rose little by little. "Why exactly?"
"I hate to argue with him." Rose gave her a long-suffering look. "In all our years of friendship, we have never disagreed like this. That is what I hate."
"What are you disagreeing about?" Elena scooted to the edge of the bed and smoothed the skirt over her legs, the closest she could come to modesty.
"He didn't tell you?" Caution slowed Rose's words and puckered her brows.
"Why don't you?" Elena had a sneaking suspicion this was about her.
"If you must know…"
"Well, now I must."
Rose licked her lips. "In South Africa, concerns were raised." She cleared her throat, looking at Elena directly. "About Damon's relationship with you."
"With me?" Elena pressed her hands flat to her chest. "What kind of concerns? Who?"
"Several of the Collective members who want Damon to be the next leader are concerned about the scandals he has adjacent to being involved with you."
"Adjacent?"
"It means—"
"I know what 'adjacent' means," Elena snapped. "Are you saying that they would hold everything going on with me against Damon? That it might affect whether or not he gets the position?"
Rose didn't look away from the insistence of her words, her eyes.
"Yes, I'm saying as much. Others are saying as much, but he won't listen." Her eyes travelled from Elena's leather knee boots over her skirt and up her fitted sweater. "He won't see reason because all he can see is you."
"Damon is a grown man." Elena narrowed her eyes at Rose. "A smart man, not to be led around by the nose. Give him some credit."
"Oh, it is not Damon I don't give credit." Rose tilted her head, a nonsmile on her face. "He has worked too hard to see it all go down the drain because he is infatuated with some woman who can't keep her name out of the tabloids."
"Oh, you mean my salacious rape allegations?" Elena couldn't stop herself from raising her voice. "How very naughty of me, going off and getting myself raped."
"It is not the rape, Elena. I'm sorry that happened to you. It is all the things that keep coming out about you that have nothing to do with the rape charges."
"It is all about the rape charges, Rose. You know that."
"But it is your life. Your choices. Things you brought on yourself, and I don't want to see them brought on Damon." Rose turned to walk out the door, but looked at Elena over her shoulder before she left. "I think you actually do care about him. If you do, maybe think about how this will all affect his life when you are done with him."
Even minutes after Rose was gone, her slimy words sticked to Elena's skin. If she really loved Damon, could she put his needs before hers, even when it might hurt both of them? When Damon walked back into his bedroom, holding the file he went looking for, and his eyes find hers, tender with promises, Elena was not sure she could.
