Chapter 11:
Strong, warm hands wound around my upper arm, tugging at me gently. When I didn't respond to them, my face a stone mask of complete and utter shock, a gravelly voice croaked softly near my ear.
"Come on, Elena, you're causing a scene." The voice turned harsh and demanding, annoyed and authoritative when I continued to ignore him. My coffee brown eyes turned numbly to his grey ones as he pulled on my arm to his office.
Giuseppe gently sat me down in the plush seat adjacent to his desk and made his way to the water fountain on the other side of the room.
Klaus -Damon's equally popular sidekick- was a dad? None of this was making any sense. Granted I'd only been here for a few weeks, but news like this wasn't something that I anticipated when I moved to a small town like Mystic Falls and it most definitely was something that people tended to gossip about.
This didn't explain why I was reacting in such an absurd way. I was shaking for Christ sakes as my brain worked overtime trying to process everything I'd just witnessed.
"Here," Giuseppe had returned and was kneeling before me, coaxing a plastic cup of chilled water into my hands, "drink this."
I took a small sip and then another before placing it on the oak desk across from me. "Klaus is Hope's father."
It wasn't a question.
Giuseppe almost reluctantly nodded his head in affirmation. "Yes, she's three years old."
"Three?" I echoed, my eyes widening, "but that means…" I mentally counted backwards how old Klaus must have been when he'd had Hope, ticking them off on my fingers one by one.
"Klaus was fifteen when he had her. Hayley was sixteen." Giuseppe finished for me.
"Wow."
"Yeah."
Giuseppe stretched to his feet again and sauntered back around to his desk. "They've had a hard time with it all, but they're managing. Hayley got her GED and Klaus returned to high school shortly after Hope's first birthday."
"Are they together?" I asked after a moments hesitation. I was questioning too much into their relationship.
"No, it was just a one-night stand. It most definitely wasn't planned, but those two kids have adapted considering the circumstances. They get along just fine and thats enough for them and Hope. They cherish Hope." Giuseppe shook his head in dismissal and I picked my cup up from his desk again. I stood from my seat.
"How do you know all of this?" I fiddled with the lines embedded into the confines of the plastic cup, running the pad of my thumb over the lines repeatedly to sooth my raging nerves. Why was I nervous?
"Damon is Hope's Godfather. Klaus is Damon's best friend and they're constantly at my house." He chuckled at the last part, "Are you going to get back to work now?"
I nodded my head and deposited my empty plastic cup in the trashcan on my way out of his office.
"Thanks, Giuseppe."
"No problem, Elena, just don't make a scene in the future. Those two have more baggage than most and they don't need no more to upset the scales."
Smiling in gratitude at him, I made way back to the bar. Caroline was cleaning up the mess I'd made earlier and the table that had housed Hayley, Klaus and Hope was now vacated and now accommodated an old couple who held hands across the table.
Caroline eyed me, sizing up my distress, as I came out of the kitchen with two strawberry sundae's in my hands and a smile plastered on my lips to appease her. She bought it and continued to throw the shards of glass and food matter into a small bin besides her.
My heart jolted when I realised that Hope had forgotten to grab this little, ragged rabbit teddy with floppy ears and a pink bow wrapped around one of them when she'd flung herself at Klaus. There were stains around its mouth where she'd tried to feed it and when I retrieved it and pocketed it in the pouch of my apron, I smiled to myself at the prospect of seeing Damon again to give him back Hope's stuffed toy.
Taking a deep, much needed breath to dispel the frantic pounding of my blood in my ears, I lifted up a hand and pounded my fist gently against the door. It took about three seconds for someone to answer and I could hear heavy footfalls on the stairs from inside.
"Elena." Damon breathed, taking in a quick scan of my profile. I was wearing my favourite white dress with the crochet top-half and a pair of white sandals with a huge flower over the toes, which were painted a garish blue.
"Happy Birthday, Elena!" Giuseppe beamed, coming from around the hallway and engulfing me in a one-armed hug. I put equal effort into the hug and leant back and smiled sweetly in return, my cheeks reddening at the prospect of being the focus of all of the attention, "Thanks."
I turned around when I heard mums footsteps clopping up the steep driveway of the Salvatore's home. She went straight to Giuseppe and planted a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek before throwing her thumb over her shoulder and gesturing towards her car. "Shall we get going or what? I'm starved."
Jeremy was still seated in the car, a frown on his face. He really didn't want to go, but that was tough luck. After all, it was my eighteenth birthday and he had to attend the birthday girls dinner. Eighteen was an important milestone in anyones life, but he was, as per usual, your typical nark of a teenage boy.
It was finally friday after a drab week at school and an equally boring week at work. I still had Hope's bunny in my room, but I'd had yet to see Klaus since the incident at the restaurant.
"Let's." Giuseppe grinned and then we were whisked away back to mum's beat-up truck. Mum insisted that I get in the back with Jer and Damon, much to Giuseppe and I's disapproval, but she was a forced to be reckoned with and we each couldn't say no to her. Thats how I found myself squashed against the door with Damon's thigh pressed firmly against mine.
Damon was in the middle seat, his height making myself and Jer dwarf in comparison. Jeremy occupied a window seat, like myself, but he was staring drearily out of it with his headphones in, oblivious to the thick plausible tension between Damon and I.
"Can you higher this song up?" Damon asked, glaring at my mums and Giuseppe's clasped hands over the centre console. Mum obliged and cranked the music a little higher, blaring out anything else. It was some stupid pop song and I turned my head to eye Damon peculiarly. I wouldn't think him the type for girly pop songs.
He was staring at my thighs, a livid expression on his face. His forehead was puckered and his lips were set in a hard pout. I looked at my lap, confused and oblivious to the fact that my dress had rose a few inches and was bunched up under my ass. I swept a hand over the trickling material of my above-the-knee length dress to straighten it out and his hand caught my wrist.
Clenching my jaw, I cocked my head to one side as my lips parted in awe and astonishment. What was he doing?
"I like this." He whispered hoarsely, his voice a low croak near my ear. He brushed his fingers along the material over my thighs. I could feel his heated breath on my cheek, on the rim of my ear. I shivered despite the heat radiating within the car due to the compact space and cramped bodies. All I could think about was his thigh pressed flush against my own.
He released my hand and it fell limply to my side, allowing his hand to fall into my lap. It landed directly between my thighs, still over the cotton of my dress, but I could still feel the throbbing it caused in-between my thighs.
I clutched my bag tighter to my chest, concealing his hand from the prying eyes of our parents, but they were too caught up in talking and driving to take heed.
His index and middle fingers began stroking between the gap in my apex of my thighs and my breathing laboured at the feeling, "You shouldn't tempt me, Elena." He purred my name, making it sound like an expletive rolling off of his tongue.
I squeezed my thighs together, effectively trapping his hand there. He swiped one long digit along the front of my white, lacy panties, prolonging it, and it sent a shot straight to my core. A little, strangled whimper rumbled from deep within my throat and I dug my nails into the bare skin of his arm -which somehow had my arms wrapped around it- that his fitted grey tee offered. So, that's why he'd wanted to turn the music up. To block us out…
"Easy, kitten." He chuckled and retreated his hand. I groaned at the lack of skin-on-skin contact and looked up at him, my cheek resting against his upper arm.
The car slowly pulled into a parking space outside of a quaint Italian restaurant on the outskirts of town and I had to physically drag myself away from him. We gradually congregated towards a podium inside where a awfully cheery waitress grinned from behind five menus. I was stood behind Damon, checking out his delectably tight ass. His tight black jeans showed off just how tight that ass really was. But I shouldn't be checking out his ass, so I mentally ticked off all of the reasons he was an ass.
I slumped slightly against the pillar besides me. This was getting out of hand.
And then I was thinking about his hands between my legs in the car journey.
Mum pointed out our reservation name on a clipboard and the woman nodded and highlighted our name with a luridly bright pink marker before leading us to our allocated table.
The blonde waitress led us to a table in the back corner and handed us the menus. "I'm Rebekah and I'll be your server for the evening. What drinks can I get you?" She smiled, her gaze continuously flickering to Damon. She was twirling a curled strand of blonde hair around her finger and when his eyes met hers, she winked alluringly.
I saw red.
Jealously coursed through my veins, making my blood boil and my fists clench and unclench around the sides of my chair. Damon was smirking at her lopsidedly, but I could see the blue of his eyes dart to me every few seconds.
He was trying to get a reaction out of me.
Well, fuck him! I thought spitefully. You wish… Shut up!
And now I was talking to myself. Great.
"Just a lemonade, please." I didn't take my eyes off of Damon as the others chortled off their orders. He raised his eyebrow at me and I narrowed my eyes in response.
Game on, Salvatore.
Stealthily, so as not to draw attention to myself, I slipped my hand beneath the table and hooked my thumb in the strap of my sandals. I covertly undid the silver buckle and lifted my eyes to meet Damon's. He was staring at me, his mouth agape.
I smirked and winked at him, feeling the jealously pour out of me as he blinked rapidly at me, enjoying the show.
Letting my shoe drop to the carpeted floor with a dull thud, I stretched my bare foot across the table until I found purchase of the edge of his seat. I grinned and inched my toes forward, wriggling them. They prodded his knee and he jerked upright in his seat, his eyes devouring me, hungry and impatient.
I ran my foot over the length of his legs, over his jean clad calf before dipping it under his pant leg and hooking my foot around his ankle, rubbing there for a few moments before skimming back upwards towards his knee again.
I shook my head and inched evermore slowly forward until my big toe prodded the space between his knees.
His hand wound around my ankle, halting my progress and I pouted at him from across the table, acting all innocent and doe-eyed in my white ensemble. I looked the complete part. I wondered if he was going to push me away, to deny me, as his intense, calculating eyes scoured over me. His thumb brushed over the top of my foot and his grip relented as he extended my leg so that it pressed firmly against his crotch, guiding me.
Curving the instep of my foot over his crotch, I admired my handiwork as his face contorted in pain or pleasure.
His knee jerked and hit the table, causing it to shake on its wobbly legs and the cutlery to jump slightly. I held back the chuckle bubbling up my throat as my mum turned towards him, "Is everything okay, Damon?"
He didn't reply for a few seconds, his face turning a beetroot red as he tried to hold his breath, delaying his groans. "Fine," He spat, slamming his fist against the table whilst the other held onto the edge of the white linen table cloth that concealed us. I continued to work him over with my foot. "Just peachy." Mum turned away and began speaking with Giuseppe again, whilst Jeremy continued to play on his phone besides them.
I guffawed into my hand and ducked my head, pressing my foot deeper and downwards so that it stroked his balls. He hissed loudly and threw his head back into the wooden head of his chair. Mum and Giuseppe simultaneously turned towards him, both looking worried.
"Damon," Mum pleaded, "are you sure you're okay? You look a little worse for wear."
He nodded his head and made this "hm hummm" noise at the back of his throat in affirmation. His hands turned white at the knuckles as his hold on the edges of the table tightened. "I'm… starving." He replied shakily, trying to control himself. I pushed forward again and he cursed loudly, "FUCK!"
"Damon!" Giuseppe chastised him, eyes wide and appalled. "What is going on with you tonight?"
"Foot, I mean, fuck all, daddy dearest." He griped, slipping his hand beneath the table again to seize the movement of my foot on his crotch. I smirked, knowing that I'd already won this round. Just loud enough for me to hear, he spoke, "If you don't stop, I'll cum in my pants and I don't tolerate that shit. That's for prissy, pussies like Stefon."
"It's Stefan." I corrected him, but retreated my foot nonetheless.
Elena-1, Damon- 0, I thought victoriously, doing a mental fist pump into the air.
I slipped my sandals back on as if nothing had happened and pretended that I was engaged in our parents conversation all along. I leaned my head against my fist on the tabletop and watched as Giuseppe and my mum giggled and shared flirtatious banter from across one another.
When the cake came, I blushed and ducked my head as nearly the whole restaurant turned to smile congratulatory at me and sang the usual birthday song. Mum flashed a couple pictures on her digital camera of the two candles in the shapes of a '1' and an '8'. Parents were so weird. I mean, who takes pictures of a birthday cake? "Make a wish, sweetie." She urged me and my gaze darted to Damon.
What did I want?
The question itself seemed it held a fairly easy response, but it was completely misleading. I wanted a lot of things; that luxurious car I'd spotted along the highway on our way here, to get accepted into a pretentious college when I graduated next year, to go far in life and meet my idol, Ian Somerhalder. He was a walking sex-on-legs and he looked uncannily similar to Damon with his dark hair and beguiling eyes… Damon… because I wanted him, too.
So, I wished for the one thing that was safe, the one thing that people wouldn't frown upon because it wasn't socially acceptable to crush on the son of your mothers lover. I wished for my mum and Giuseppe to commit to their relationship because I knew what it entailed. If Giuseppe stuck around, Damon surely would, too.
I blew out the candles and the whole table erupted into cheers and applause and mum leant across the table to kiss my cheek. Even Jeremy cracked a smile and hugged me awkwardly from around Giuseppe, who slapped me on the back and gave me a kiss on the cheek.
"Happy birthday, Elena." Came Damon's sultry voice from across the table. My smile faltered and I stared, pursed lipped, at him. He was fiddling with his napkin, leaning back in his seat to regard me shrewdly.
"Thank you, Damon." I faked a smile, earning a curt nod of his head. Rebekah took the cake away, saying she'd bring it back out once our meals were served, and she later came out with our plates balanced in her arms.
When I reverted my eyes back to Damon, he was leaning back in his seat, smirking gallantly at me with his patented sexy, crooked smirk as if I was a prized possession in a fairground stall that he just had to have.
"Game on, Salvatore." I drawled, biting my lip as I twirled the contents of my pasta around in its bowl.
Mum raised her glass into the air and we all followed her lead, "To Elena, my beautiful daughter."
"To Elena." They all echoed and we all clinked our glasses together.
I scooped my glass higher and held it up in Damon's direction, he clinked glasses with mine and we each took a sip of our respective refreshments, eyeing each other over the brim with our gazes unwavering. I smirked around the rim of my glass, as did he.
Game on, indeed.
A/N- So, what did you think? We're in chapter 11 now, so I just figured that something had to happen with all of the sexual tension and everything between them, but don't worry things won't go too quick;) I'm too evil to do that. Also, I'm moving houses tomorrow and so I don't know when I'll have internet access, so I honestly don't know when the next update will be. Although, I'll surely continue to write whilst the internets down, after I finish moving things and unpacking of course. The joys of moving...
I was just wondering, within the next few chapters, would you prefer to skip over the next couple of months or would you prefer it if I just gradually eased Giuseppe and Miranda to move in together? Please get back to me on this because its sort of important in implementing what you want into this fic! Until next time…
