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Chapter 13: Dinner Pt 2
"Can I open my eyes yet?" Elena asks, clutching Damon's arm and taking tentative steps as he leads her to their secret destination.
She can tell he's smirking; she knows him too well not to know his expressions, even if she can't see them at the moment.
Just as she knows his perfect blue eyes are shining with excitement and unspoken love for her at this very moment as he proudly escorts her into the restaurant.
"Patience is a virtue, Elena," he teases her without actually giving an answer to her request.
"And high heels are hard to walk in when I can't see where I'm going," she counters.
She can sense him rolling his eyes.
"I'm not about to let you ruin a perfectly romantic surprise by tripping over your own two feet."
Elena playfully smacks him on the arm she's holding onto and she feels him grinning cheekily back at her.
"Stop looking at me like that," she scolds him.
"How do you know I'm looking when I told you to keep your eyes closed?" Damon asks, still grinning.
"I can feel your eyes on me," she replies. "I always know when you're smirking or stealing quick glances when you think nobody's looking."
"Oh really?" Damon asks, intrigued by this admission.
Taking advantage of the opportunity that has presented itself he glances down at the low neckline of Elena's dinner dress; whoever invented halter tops had been a genius!
"What am I looking at right now?" he challenges her.
Elena sighs in mock-exasperation.
"Can't you go one night without ogling a woman's chest?"
"Now where would be the fun in that?" Damon teases. "Besides, you got all dressed up for me. The least I can do is enjoy the view."
"You're incorrigible."
"Thank you," he grins.
"It wasn't a compliment," she informs him. "Seriously, can I open my eyes now? I feel ridiculous."
Damon sighs, as if conceding defeat. "If you insist," he says.
Elena gasps, taking in the elegant surroundings of what had to be one of the most expensive restaurants she's ever seen.
The tables are all perfectly decorated with fancy white table cloths.
Candles in glass holders and small vases filled with peach-colored roses are placed in the center of each table, with crystal wine glasses and silverware at each place setting.
The tables could easily seat up to eight people in the center of the room, with the smaller tables off to the side in the corner booths to provide an intimate dining area for two or for a small family.
She can't help noticing that the table cloth covers quite a lot beneath the tables, especially if one were to simply tug it down a little more.
"We have reservations under Salvatore," Damon informs the Maitre'D, using that same tone of voice that once again reminds Elena that regardless of how often he hung out at the bar in Mystic Grill, he still knows how to act like a perfect gentleman when it counts.
He fits in with the rest of the obviously rich dining patrons seamlessly, and she's beginning to feel out of place again. Though she's technically a member of the founding families and has attended many lavish parties at the Lockwood's, and the citizens of Mystic Falls often regarded them like they were royalty, it was nothing in comparison to this.
"Ah yes, Mr. Salvatore, we've been expecting you."
The Maitre 'D, a middle-aged man in an immaculate crisp black suit and tie, smiles warmly in greeting as if Damon was royalty himself.
Elena is surprised when she notices that Damon hadn't even needed to compel him; she wonders if he has been here before.
As the man escorts them to a small table in the corner of the room, Elena immediately notices the addition of red roses in the center of the table. She gives Damon a questioning look, asking him wordlessly if he had anything to do with it.
He merely winks at her and her heart flutters once again, thinking he might just kill her with his brand of romance; it's really more than she'd ever thought possible.
"Jessica will arrive shortly to take your orders, but if there is anything else you require during the course of your evening I would be more than happy to assist you any way I can," the man says.
Damon smiles at the Maitre'D and nods in acknowledgement.
"Thank you, Henri," he says with an air of familiarity.
"My father was right in suggesting I come here; your establishment is the finest I've seen."
"Thank you, Sir," Henri replies, beaming proudly at the compliment.
"Your father always did have impeccable taste, if I may say so. You will tell him for me that I say hello and wish him well?"
Damon winks at Elena, enjoying their private joke.
"I'm sure he is well aware of your esteem for him, but I'll make sure to tell him the next time I speak with him."
Henri beams again. It was obvious that Damon had made quite an impression on this man years ago.
"Very good, Sir," he says. Then, turning to smile at Elena, he adds "your fiancé is every bit the gentleman his father was twenty years ago. You are a very fortunate young woman."
Elena blushes, not knowing quite what to say.
"Thank you," she replies.
As soon as Henri leaves, Elena turns to Damon.
"What was that all about?" she asks, arching her brow.
He shrugs. "Had to think of a cover story to get you in here without them questioning your age," he tells her.
She shakes her head. "I wasn't talking about that," she tells him. "I meant that thing with Henri. You didn't…"
"Compel him?" he finishes for her. "No, in this case I didn't have to. He knows my father from twenty years ago,"
"That wasn't a lie?" she asks, suddenly curious about Damon's extensive past.
She'd known he'd travelled a lot; Stefan had explained the importance of moving around to different places already.
"I spent a bit of time here back in the early 90s," he tells her.
"Henri was about my age back then, and just starting out as a waiter. He was one of those rare people who provided excellent service without my needing to influence them, and he always made sure to only serve me the best alcohol they had in stock. When I had to move on, I made sure to influence the owner at the time to ensure Henri got promoted, just in case my son decided to come back here someday."
Elena stares at him, awestruck.
"What?" he asks, upon noticing her strange expression.
"You were nice," she says, grinning.
He shakes his head, trying to deny it.
"I'm not nice," he says. "I'm mean. I'm a big, bad evil vampire, remember?"
She shakes her head, still smiling.
"Sorry, not buying it," she teases. "You did something nice for someone you would probably never see again."
"I wasn't being nice," he makes a face, as if the idea disgusts him. "I was merely ensuring that I got the best service the next time I came here. It was purely self-interest."
"You liked him," she points out, refusing to give up. "You considered him a good friend, I can tell."
Damon rolls his eyes. "I don't have friends, Elena."
"Then what does that make me?" She asks pointedly.
Damon smirks. "You're my girlfriend," he replies cheekily. "There's a difference."
"Since when did I become your girlfriend?" she asks, trying hard not to blush at his casual statement.
Damon frowns.
"What did you think this was?" he asks, sounding a little hurt. "I don't make a habit of wining and dining my playmates you know."
Elena quickly reaches for his hand across the table, squeezing it gently before he can pull away.
"I didn't mean it like that," she says reassuringly. "I was just surprised that you'd start calling me your girlfriend when we haven't even finished our first date."
"Normally that's the way things are supposed to happen, but this is a backwards date," he says, the playful smirk making its reappearance. "Meaning I am not bound by the rules of proper courtship. I could just as easily make you my fiancé."
Unsure of how to respond to that comment, Elena is somewhat grateful when the waitress arrives at their table to take their drink orders.
That feeling quickly changes however; while Damon is ordering a bottle of their finest red wine, Jessica is looking at him as if she wants to order him for dessert.
Though he isn't even paying her the slightest bit of attention in that sense, an inexplicable wave of jealousy courses through her anyway and she possessively grabs his hand from across the table once again.
She almost wishes Damon had proposed to her, if only to show off a sparkling engagement ring and leave no doubt in the minds of women everywhere as to whom Damon Salvatore belongs to.
After taking down the order for the wine and leaning over Damon's side of the table a little too far so that he had a good view down her blouse as she sets down the menus, she finally leaves.
"I saw that," Damon says, grinning in amusement.
"I don't know what you mean." Elena's expression is all wide-eyed innocence, but she isn't fooling anyone; least of all him.
Damon nods his head in the direction that Jessica is heading and smirks.
"You wanted to scratch her eyes out just now."
"No I didn't," Elena says a little too quickly.
Damon continues to smirk at her, finding the situation all too amusing.
"Why Miss Elena, I never pegged you for the jealous type," he teases.
"I'm not!" she protests. "I just…didn't like the way she was looking at you, that's all."
"There's a word for that," he says, placing a finger to his lips, pretending to be deep in thought. "What was it again? Oh, right! Jealousy!" he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at her.
Elena smacks his arm, still holding onto his hand since he hasn't pulled away.
"Shut up," she scolds.
"Why? I think it's cute," he says, stroking his thumb over her small wrist. "Not to mention it does wonders for my ego."
Elena rolls her eyes.
"Because you really need help in that department," she mutters.
"Maybe not, but I still like it! It's been a long time since anyone's cared enough to get jealous."
"Well, maybe I was a little jealous," Elena admits, smiling sweetly.
Damon's brow arches. "Just a little?" he asks in that tone that indicates he's fishing for compliments.
"Don't let it go to your head," she says, rolling her eyes again.
"I think it's a little late for that," he purrs seductively; the double-entendre isn't lost on her and she slaps his hand again warningly.
"Behave," she scolds.
"Now where's the fun in that?" Damon asks, sliding down one side of the table cloth so that it reaches the floor.
He picks up his fork, examining it with a curious expression, as if he's contemplating something, and then drops it so that it lands beneath the table.
"Here, let me get that," he says, the wicked gleam in his eyes telling her just what he's thinking. Her eyes wide with shock, she shakes her head.
"Damon, no," she hisses, trying to ignore the way her heart is pounding with excitement and the pulse between her legs.
"We'll get caught," she whispers, frantically glancing around the room to make sure nobody is watching them.
"Relax," he whispers back. "If someone comes within ten feet of our table, I'll hear them coming."
Before she can say anything more, he uses his vampire speed to dart beneath the table.
In an instant his hands are on her knees, gently spreading her legs apart.
She lets out a sharp gasp, biting her lip hard to keep from crying out as she feels the first brush of his lips against the inside of her thigh.
Her legs begin to tremble in reaction as he traces his tongue over her in light circles, flicking it over her sensitive little bud teasingly.
"Damon!" she hisses again.
Her vision is already blurring as the sensations begin to overwhelm her; it's nearly killing her as she fights to keep herself under control.
He is evil to do this to her, knowing how much he affects her.
He doesn't even try to make it easier on her; his lips and tongue seeking out every single nerve ending she has and exploiting it fully.
She tries to close her legs against the assault, but he firmly keeps them in place.
Tears spring to her eyes as she fights with everything she has not to scream; she bites down on her lip so hard that she can taste the coppery tang of her blood when at last the coil inside her snaps and her entire body shudders with her release.
She is still breathing heavily as Damon quickly shoots back into his seat across from her, licking his lips and grinning like the devil at her.
"You're pure evil," Elena says the second she's finally able to catch her breath.
"You can't tell me you didn't enjoy that," Damon replies saucily. "I can still taste your enjoyment, after all."
She attempts a glare, but the corners of her mouth are still turned up in a smile; it's impossible to get her facial muscles to work properly as she's still recovering from the mind-blowing orgasm he'd given her.
She is about to tell him off for being such a wicked tease when Jessica approaches their table with their bottle of wine and a complimentary pitcher of water.
It doesn't go unnoticed by Elena that the waitress' top three buttons of her blouse have magically come undone since her last visit.
"Have you decided on what you'd like this evening?" she purrs sexily, her eyes focused entirely on Damon while ignoring Elena's presence at the table.
"Actually, we're still deciding," Elena says, giving Jessica the death-glare.
The tramp doesn't even acknowledge her; she is too busy drooling in Damon's wine glass.
"Is there anything I can get for you? An appetizer, perhaps?" she asks in a sultry tone that reminds Elena of one of those phone sex girls advertised on late night TV.
Damon grins, eyeing the girl's neck for a split second before looking back to wink at Elena. She glares at him, arching her brow as if daring him to try it and see what happens.
"Well, now that you mention it, I am a little hungry. What did you have in mind?"
"Um, the shrimp cocktail is really good." Jessica blushes, giggling in a way that she probably thought was flirtatious, but comes off as "desperate schoolgirl meets airhead stripper".
Elena rolls her eyes, growing irritated with the girl.
She is almost tempted to tell Damon to just go for it, compel the girl, and have a pre-dinner snack; only the image of them together, his mouth on her neck, causes her to seethe with jealousy.
No, she decides, if Damon was going to feed off of anyone, it would be her; not some bimbo dumb enough to throw herself at a man who was clearly spoken for.
"Thanks, we'll have that," Elena speaks up again, giving Damon a look that tells him not to say another word to their overly flirty waitress.
Jessica purses her lips together in a slight frown and quickly scribbles the order on her note pad.
She glances once more at Damon, clearly not taking the hint that her presence is not wanted.
"Would you like me to pour the wine for you and your…friend?" she asks, deliberately emphasizing the last word.
"Actually," Elena replies coldly, "my fiancé and I are capable of pouring our own wine, thanks."
She grasps Damon's hand again, making it clear that he is most definitely taken.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Jessica said in a tone that made it obvious that she wasn't. "I didn't see your ring."
"That's because he and I are going to pick one out at Tiffany's together," Elena lies brilliantly, beaming with excitement as if she really was getting engaged.
Damon smirks, amused that Elena is now using the cover story he'd come up with as ammunition against their waitress; the poor girl didn't stand a chance against a furious Elena, especially when fury was warring with jealousy at the moment.
She is just so cute when she's jealous, and a part of him really loves the idea of her calling him her fiancé. He has to admit, the idea has a certain appeal to him, especially considering how long he's had to wait for her.
He knows he'll have to wait a little longer though before he can truly take that step, but if he has anything to say about it she would be his wife in a few short years.
Obviously he'd wait until she was older before he turns her, since the last thing he wants is to draw too much attention to them while he literally shows her the world; and there are so many beautiful places he wants to share with her.
"My girl only deserves the best," he says, never taking his eyes off her beautiful face.
Elena blushes; she can tell by the serious expression in his eyes that he isn't saying it for the sake of their audience.
The way he's looking at her right now makes her feel as if he truly would give her the world if it was within his power; it's intense, and a little overwhelming, but it thrills her at the same time.
Very few men would go to such lengths, after all.
Jessica is clearly feeling uncomfortable watching them have eye sex from across the table, which is exactly what Elena had counted on.
"I'll come back in five minutes…give you two a little more time to decide on your order," she says, casting her eyes down at her notepad.
"Make it ten," Elena replies, not wanting to deal with Jessica any sooner than that.
Jessica nods her head.
"Ten minutes," she repeats more to herself than to the couple she's serving, since Elena and Damon are pretty much ignoring her presence at the moment.
What Jessica had failed to notice in her embarrassment at being caught flirting with Damon was that there was a reason for his sudden lack of response to her. And it had nothing to do with the murderous looks she'd received from Elena.
She also failed to notice the slight twitch of Damon's mouth, or the way his fists clenched tightly, or the way Elena kept staring at him with a mischievous, almost triumphant gleam in her eyes.
She also failed to notice that Elena had removed one of her high heels, or that her bare foot was in Damon's lap.
Damon, on the other hand, was well aware of this fact; it was the only thing he was aware of, because Elena had decided to get him back for teasing her earlier.
He'd never have guessed that her toes would be so talented, and it was getting harder (literally) for him to remain in control so he didn't haul her across the table, audience be damned, and fuck her senseless.
The ball of her foot keeps pressing against him as she wiggles her toes over the fabric of his pants. She has such an innocent expression on her face, appearing cool and collected in front of their waitress even as she continues to drive him to distraction.
He clenches his fists tighter, resisting the urge to grab onto something since he doesn't trust himself not to accidentally crush or tear it.
"Make it ten," he hears Elena tell the girl.
And then she licks her lips in that oh so subtle but incredibly seductive way and her toes curl over the bulge in his pants, pressing harder.
She's evil; purely, sexily, seductively evil. And god how he loves her for it!
Elena smiles coyly at him, her eyes quickly darting from the retreating form of their waitress and back to him. Her foot presses into his crotch teasingly again, and then slowly she traces it back down his thigh to rest innocently back on the floor.
"Is something wrong, Damon?" she asks, her eyes dancing with barely concealed amusement.
"You do remember what happened the last time you teased me," he replies in a low, frustrated growl.
Elena shivers as if he just touched her sensitive skin, and her eyes darken with lust.
"Vividly," she purrs. "But what makes you so sure that I'm teasing?"
Damon smirks. "Are you saying you intend to return the favor?" he asks.
"Maybe later," she replies as she slides her foot up his leg again teasingly. "If you promise to behave yourself while I enjoy my dinner, I'll make sure you enjoy dessert."
"You're seriously killing me," Damon groans, rolling his eyes in exasperation.
Elena smirks. "Somehow, I think you'll survive one more hour."
She picks up her menu, glancing over the various entrees with a quizzical expression on her face. "There aren't any prices listed," she says.
"Nope!" Damon replies, smirking again. "But since I'm the one with the credit card and more money than I know what to do with, I don't see that being an issue."
"But…"
Damon cuts her off, placing a finger to her lips.
"You're not on a cheap date with my baby brother or one of those other silly high school boys," he points out. "I am perfectly willing to overlook the price of whatever item you wish to order, as long as it's not something boring like a salad. I can't even begin to count how many times a girl has ruined a perfectly good dining experience by ordering that, and nothing else," he says, making a face. "It's as bad as Stefan's Bambi and Thumper diet!"
"Because snacking on brain-dead sorority girls is so much better!" Elena counters.
Damon smirks. "You know, I'm kind of liking Jealous Elena; she's sassy!"
"Isn't that supposed to be a bad thing?" she asks, arching her brow.
He shrugs. "Depends on who you ask," he tells her. "I've always loved strong, sassy women!" he winks at her and pours them both a glass of wine. "So have you decided what you want to order?"
Elena purses her lips in thought as she glances over the menu.
"I'm thinking Filet Mignon."
"My girl has taste," he purrs.
Elena blushes. "Have you tried it before?" she asks, trying to regain her composure.
Damon nods. "Many times," he confirms.
"I'm surprised you like steak," she teases.
Damon rolls his eyes.
"I wouldn't be surprised if the next comment out of your saucy little mouth is whether I like mine medium rare," he deadpans. "Seriously, Elena, what is it about teasing me that you find so appealing?"
"You used to tease me all the time," Elena points out.
Damon smirks. "Well yeah," he says. "I had to rile you up somehow!"
"So what changed?" She asks seriously.
He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and licks his lips.
"I found better ways to rile you up!"
As if to prove his point he positions his foot so that he can stroke her leg in the same teasing way she had done to him; of course Elena isn't as in control of her reactions as he is and she practically jumps out of her seat.
"Stop doing that," she chastises.
"Stop doing what?" he asks, giving her that innocent look of his again.
She rolls her eyes. "You know what. You're deliberately trying to distract me."
"And why would I do that?" he asks, letting his foot graze the back of her calf and send shocks up her leg.
"Because you don't want to tell me why you wanted to rile me up in the first place," she says.
"You're cute when you're upset?" he suggests, grinning at her.
To anyone else it would have appeared that Damon was only playing with her, but Elena catches the spark in his eyes; that glimmer of emotion that was so fleeting and so rare, but was undeniable proof that he feels something for her that's beyond friendship or lust.
"You know I'm just going to figure it out eventually," she tells him knowingly.
"You haven't touched your drink," he comments.
Elena smirks at him and raises her glass in toast.
"To finally finding the love and happiness we deserve," she says simply before clinking her glass with his. As she takes a sip, she notices that he's staring at her with an odd expression, as if he can't believe what she'd said.
"What?" she asks.
"Do you mean it?" he rasps.
His eyes have softened again, his expression hopeful.
In this moment, he is completely open to her; the walls he'd put up before had come down the second she'd made that toast, and she knows that he caught her meaning just as she'd hoped he would.
Elena is grateful for the romantic, but very public setting; it would make it so much easier to tell him without having the constant temptation to just show him how much she loves him.
Actions may have spoken louder than words, but she knows that Damon needs to hear them just as badly as she does. It's the only way they will ever be able to move their relationship forward; there can't be any more room for doubt as to where they stand with one another.
"I do," she replies softly, setting the glass down on the table and reaching out to place her hand over his. "I'm in love with you, Damon" she whispers.
Damon silently stares at her for what feels like several long minutes.
Elena frowns, having expected more of a reaction from him after all the times he'd tried to push her into admitting to her feelings in the past.
"Damon?" she asks tentatively when he still hasn't responded to her.
"You should have waited until we were back at the hotel," he sighs, frowning slightly.
Elena furrows her brow in confusion. "Why?" she asks.
Damon grasps her hand in his, turning it so that the inside of her wrist is exposed to his slightly parted lips.
"Because," he whispers against her skin. "Words cannot begin to describe how much I love you, or how long I've waited to hear you say what I've known for months now."
His eyes are hazy with desire as he adds, "I want you, right now, and it's killing me that we haven't even ordered dinner yet."
Elena's pulse speeds up at his declaration, and moisture pools between her thighs.
She's tempted to tell Damon that they can just cancel dinner and skip straight to dessert before remembering that the whole point of this evening had been to romance her the way he feels she deserves.
She isn't about to take that away from him, no matter how badly she wants him to make love to her, to finally hear him whisper those words to her as he brings her such exquisite pleasure.
Dessert, unfortunately, will just have to wait.