~*~
Music blared, drowning out almost every other noise in the dimly lit club. The dance floor was packed with gyrating bodies, the scent of perfumes intermingled with sweat was powerful and strobe lights flashed every now and then. Bodies half clad in leather and mesh mixed with stiletto heels and mini-skirts. Elena smirked from her spot above by the railing where she stood on the second level. Peering down below her, her eyes picked out the flash of red hair belonging to the woman dancing with her husband. It wasn't unusual for the owner of the club to be out on the dance floor; however, it was usually with Elena. Sometimes, they even fed that way (that is, if it was in a dark enough area with a drunk enough person). This time, given their company, Elena had let them take the floor.
Bonnie's pink strapless dress clung to her, and left barely anything covered. Her cleavage was clearly visible and her hair was a wild, untamed waterfall down her back as she danced, her arms looped about Stefan's neck. Elena's stomach clenched as she let her eyes wander over her husband's body. He looked incredibly sexy at the moment, his hair disheveled and falling into his eyes -- which Elena realized with a pang reminded her of another dark haired Italian she knew...She shook her head; she wouldn't let *him* invade her thoughts. Instead, she concentrated on the level below her, eyes riveted on her husband, whose well-toned chest was covered by a form fitting black t-shirt, his legs were clad in leather (his new taste thanks to Elena) and it set a slow burning in her stomach to watch him as he danced freely with her friend. She wasn't jealous, no, she had no fear whatsoever of Stefan doing something foolish. Their marriage was one built on trust -- well, if not before, now it was definitely.
The song was coming to an end and a new one started up. She moved down the steps leading to the first floor and sauntered off onto the dance floor, making her way between bodies in various positions...Most were dancing, but there were some exceptions and Elena tore her eyes away from those particular couples...
Elena then stood before the two, her friend's cheeks flushed pink from exertion and there was a strange glow about her. It made Elena think...But she quickly disregarded it as a silly thought and pushed her way between.
"Mind if I cut in?" She asked, not waiting for an answer as she drew Stefan to her who's smiled broadened and he slipped his hands onto her hips. They moved in time to the beat; Elena had always been a very good dancer and Stefan was one hell of a dancer himself. Elena let herself go, pressing her hips to his and beginning to grind against him as they danced. Rarely, did she allow herself to have such "public displays of affection"; at least not this sexual. But she was incredibly turned on from watching him and Bonnie moments before. Green eyes glittered with enjoyment and his face, which was already flushed from the heat of the club, turned a brighter shade of crimson as he moved with her.
Bonnie, now alone for the time being, moved over to the bar, taking a seat on a stool and smiled falsely at the bartender. She could tell instantly he was no human.
"Mud slide, please."
Taking her glass, she brought it to her lips, brown eyes on one couple in particular. They were giving quite a show, she had to admit, which she did with rueful acknowledgement. She shook her head, rather disgusted at herself for the apparent jealousy. Bonnie took a large gulp. Damn, she should've ordered vodka shots. She could use some right now; she wouldn't mind being a little drunk -- anything to keep her mind from floating off into strange perverse thoughts about her best friend's husband.
The two on the dance floor were dancing sensually, openly announcing their sense of sexuality, evidently not ashamed to show their want for another as they dance right up against one another. With a groan, Bonnie watched Stefan's hand rest against Elena's behind, which was donned in a smooth, short red skirt which revealed her shapely legs. Her chest, which was covered only by a black tank top, was pressed firmly to Stefan and Bonnie had to take another large sip from her drink as Elena's mouth sought Stefan's.
*This is ridiculous! What the fuck is wrong with me? Maybe I should call up Meredith's husband...Yes, Alaric would know what was wrong with me. I bet my psychic powers are getting out of whack or something...*
Oh, hell. Who was she kidding? Screw psychic ability. Her lust for Stefan Salvatore had nothing to do with that.
***
"What? Here? You're joking..."
"Perfectly serious, love."
Stefan's eyes widened and he smirked at Elena as they danced. She lightly nipped at his lips, her tongue running over the curve of his upper lip. "Are you drunk?" he teased.
She shook her head, laughing. "Perfectly sober, too." Her fingers ran through his damp hair. "And I'm well aware what I want to do..."
"But...I mean...Elena, *here* ?"
"Oh, come now, Stefan. I'm in the mood to be naughty..." She smirked. "Do I hear a complaint?" Blue eyes were amused and a smirk played about on ruby lips. She was well aware of the envious stares of the other occupants of Ravishing Oblivion and it made this all the more fun.
"No, not at all," he replied, laughing as well now, their bodies still moving to the rhythm. "I just wonder what's gotten into you all of a sudden."
Elena leaned forward, resting her cheek against his to speak into his ear. "Nothing...Just you."
Stefan had to admit, her sudden desire to be with him, especially in a place they were likely to get caught -- and be in all the more trouble since they owned the place -- turned him on immensely. It wasn't like her to want to have sex so openly.
"I'll tell you what," she whispered, "would it be better if we went upstairs?"
He grinned, his hands moving along the small of her back. "I know where you mean..."
"Good. Then what are we waiting for?"
Drawing back, she took his hand and led him off the dance floor. She moved up the steps slowly, pushing her way past others gather along the wall and finally came to rest in front of the door that led to the private, "owners only" room in the very back of the upstairs where few people had ever even noticed it.
Opening the door, they stepped inside and Stefan was sure to lock the door securely behind them. Elena grinned, and walked over to the door once more, unlocking it.
"What are you doing?" Stefan questioned, looking a bit panicked.
"Don't you think," she said, voice low and sultry, "it would be a whole lot more...interesting...with the prospect of getting caught?" Moving over to him, she drew him close, brushing her lips over his softly.
It was a task to even make the simple gesture of a nod, as his hands were already moving like lightening along her body, touching, groping, wanting.
Hastily, they undressed one another, wasting no time with taking it slow. Her hands were already easing him down onto the couch against the far wall, and her lips were pressed firmly to his. His own hands were smoothing down the creamy skin of her back to her butt, and her heartbeat quickened.
"I want you," she murmured against his lips as he kissed her. "Badly."
With no clothing left to separate them, he pulled her onto him with a gasp, pushing his hips upward to meet hers as she set her own into a slow grind. Their breathing was deep, erratic, as they continued; Elena's thighs pressed tightly to his sides, her nails raking down his chest. She threw back her head with a groan as he sped up his pace, her knees digging into the cushions of the couch.
Her name being whispered hoarsely over and over was all she heard, mixed with the ragged breathing that was her own, as she moved against him. Chest heaving with every rise and fall as she clenched his shoulders, his hands clasped to her rear.
Stefan's eyes were squeezed shut and Elena eased forward, pressing them chest to chest, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. Muffled moans could be heard, both his and hers.
Lost in each other, they never heard the door.
***
"Hey baby, wanna' give some luck of the Irish over here?"
Bonnie whirled around to face the man who she'd traced the voice to. "Fuck off, asshole. I'm Scottish."
He was a heavy set, middle-aged man, with auburn hair that looked as though it hadn't seen the shampoo bottle since he was a toddler, and sported a beer belly which poked out from beneath a shirt when he moved make an obscene gesture, to which Bonnie simply replied by giving him the finger and storming off, the sound of his exploding Heineken ringing in her ears. She distantly heard him curse.
She headed up the stairs, a bit unsteady; her feet feeling as though they were made of lead as she stumbled up the steps. The effects of having one too many of those Mud slides.
Cursing herself for wearing such high heels, she gripped the banister and managed to make it all the way to the top only really falling once. She wanted to find Stefan and Elena, tell them she was heading back to the apartment to nurse an ever growing headache from the alcohol, which she knew she'd pay dearly for the following morning with her head over the toilet.
Her instinct took her to the far end of the upper level and her mind argued with her intuition. *What the hell is back here? -- Nothing, that's what. -- You're drunk Bonnie, there's nothing but wall...-- I'm not drunk, damnit! I only had...Okay, so I *am* drunk -- Bonnie McCullough, get a grip on reality, you're turning schizophrenic...*
She shook her head in attempt to clear her thoughts, which only succeeded in her nearly falling flat on her face if it hadn't been for the nice, convenient...doorknob...?! The redhead did a double take, squinting, angry at her double vision. "Doorknob? Now I know I'm *really* crashed...Downright drunk off my ass. I need to--
She blinked. Fingers grasping the solid brass doorknob. *Alright, so there really *is* a damn doorknob...* Now what the hell could that be for?
*Hmm..Maybe a *door*, you idiot.* That damn voice in her head was getting irritating! Oh, hold on a second. That was just herself...
Boy, oh boy, did she need to get out of here…
Her thoughts stopped racing long enough to realize she heard noise from behind the door. With that, she turned the knob, opening the door and--
-- *Oh my fuck.*
Swallowing thickly as her eyes took in the sight of Elena and Stefan entangled on the bed, in the throws of passion and lost in ecstasy. That was all she needed and with that, she shut the door behind her, throwing herself against the wall, chest heaving with her heavy, labored breathing.
Why did it bother her so much? What was the cause for her sudden fit of nausea (besides the drinking of course)? She groaned, lifting a hand to her head.
She wanted to curl up into a ball and cry. Torn between being furious at herself and her insane longings, and being helplessly depressed, she sank to her knees, thankful for the darkness. Around her, the upper walls were lined with tiny circular bulbs in multi-colors, but here, in the far, far back, there were none.
Not only overcome by those feelings, there was also a prominent ache in her that she could only identify as being turned on. The carpet was rough against her bare knees and she put her head into her hands, curls falling forward to shade her eyes.
*Why does it do this to me?* She picked up her head, hands clenching into fists by her sides, as she raised her face to the ceiling, her rage taking over. *Because I want him.*
That other side of her kicked in again. That annoying, nagging, *truthful* part of her brain. *And you, Bonnie McCullough, cannot have him.*
Bonnie let her mind's eye wander, opening her vision for an instant and allowing her to "sense" what was going on, and inside the room, she knew they had finished.
Tiny popping sounds...Followed by a wave of tiny shrieks, words of amazement, curses, and even some screams as one by one, every one of those little bulbs burst as an outlet to her fury.
~*~