Chapter 7
Damon checked himself out in the hall mirror and buttoned up his dark blue Oxford-style shirt. He and the gang were heading out to a club for the night, and he had to say that he looked damn good. Bonnie had banned him from their shared master bathroom because she was trying to get ready and he was apparently in her way. Rather than fight her on it, he acquiesced and got ready in the other bathroom. After all, he had promised to be a good boy and he had to stick with that if he wanted her to watch that sex tape with him.
He fluffed his hair a couple of times, then strode out to the living room, where Stefan and Matt were already on the couch. He poured himself some bourbon and sat with them, making small talk until the girls finally appeared. Elena was out first and while she did look stunning in her little black dress, something about her just didn't hold the same appeal that it used to. In Mystic Falls, Damon would have done just about anything to have Elena's attention and be the man for her. But as he sat on the couch and watched her twirl for Stefan, he was indifferent to her.
The feeling both shocked and relieved him.
He was not at all indifferent when Bonnie appeared from the hallway. He could feel his eyes widen and he didn't stop himself from staring. She was wearing the tightest, shortest dress he had ever seen. Her breasts were squeezed together and the hem stopped just an inch or two below her butt. She wore high heels that made her calves look amazing. Her hair was down in perfectly coiffed curls, framing her face and giving her a very soft, feminine look. Her makeup was perfect and even from his seat on the couch, the green of her eyes was noticeable.
She was smoking hot.
"Wow," he said, as he stood up from the couch and slowly approached her. She had a shy smile on her face and he knew she wasn't used to such attention, and definitely not from him. He took her hands and held them out, motioning for her to do a little spin for him. To his surprise, she did. His eyes immediately locked in on the fact that she was definitely not wearing a bra and possibly not wearing panties either. He wanted so desperately to say something inappropriate but instead he kissed her knuckles and shook his head.
"You, Ms. Bennett, are trying to test my promise to remain a gentleman," he said.
Her smile grew. "Maybe," she admitted.
"So I see that you're trying to uphold your end of the bargain."
"I am," she nodded. "I'm letting loose."
"Let's continue that, shall we?"
He took her hand and led her to the kitchen. She sat on a stool, keeping her legs closed and not moving too much. One false move and he would see everything that her mama gave her.
"To a fun night," he said, offering her a shot of tequila.
She held up her glass and clinked it with his. "Cheers."
They downed their shots together and once Caroline joined everyone, all six of them took a group shot. As they headed out to the SUV, Damon's eyes again fell to Bonnie's ass. He could tell she was feeling the shots already by the little sway she had in her hips that wasn't normally there. When she was sober, she was completely oblivious to her sex appeal. Under the influence was an entirely different story.
When they got out to the car, Damon held out his hand and helped Bonnie climb in with as little movement as possible. They slid into the back row and he wasted no time pulling her to him. He wrapped his arm around her and ran his hand down her arm, which was littered with goosebumps.
"Cold?" he asked.
"Kind of. This dress doesn't offer much in the way of warmth."
"Doesn't offer much in the way of anything, not that I'm complaining."
Bonnie pinched his thigh. "Gentleman, remember?"
"What? If I was being un-gentlemanly, I would have said something like, 'I can't wait for you to bend over so I can see if you're wearing panties or not."
Bonnie pinched him much harder that time and he laughed. They fell into a comfortable silence until Damon piped up to offer his opinion on how to get to the club they were going to. Matt got a little lost but eventually ended up at the right place. Damon once again helped Bonnie out and held her hand as they walked inside with the group.
The club was packed and playing loud reggae music. People were crammed onto the dance floor, sweating and grinding and some of them dancing on tables. There was hardly room to stand, let alone sit, but Damon spotted a few empty VIP tables. He shouted for Bonnie to stay with the girls and he steered Stefan and Matt to the bar and inquired about the table. He plunked down a couple of of hundred dollars for the space, which offered his group a resting place for the night as well as unlimited drinks and food.
Their table was a half-mooned shaped booth and Damon allowed Bonnie to slide in before him. He put his arm around her again and kissed the side of her head. She seemed to like it because she leaned into him and rubbed the top of her head against his chin. She smelled so good. She always smelled good, like flowers and something sweet. He remembered how her blood smelled just like the rest of her: tantalizing.
One of the club waitresses came over and rolled a gargantuan bottle of rum to their table. It was contained in an enormous ice bucket, with little sparklers coming out of it. She managed to get the booze onto the table with Damon's help and he passed out cups for everyone. Matt did the honors of pouring drinks for the group and once each person had a cup, Damon held his up for a toast.
"To us!" he shouted over the music.
He wasn't sure how many drinks later it was that he knew he was drunk, but it was definitely after Bonnie was noticeably wasted. At some point, she had slithered onto his lap and was gyrating to every song and proclaiming each one to be "her jam." She, Caroline and Elena eventually made it onto the dance floor, dancing seductively near each other like drunk girls were wont to do. Damon smiled and drank, content to watch Bonnie cut loose for once. After she had worked up a little sheen from moving her body to several songs, Bonnie turned and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him to join her.
Despite his desire to do just that, he smirked and shook his head. She pouted and motioned for him again, but again he shook his head. A little shiver of victory went through him when she abandoned the girls and walked to him. He was sitting on the edge of the booth and she stood in between his legs and grabbed the lapel of his shirt.
"Why won't you dance with me?" she asked.
"I will. I just wanted you to come over and ask me."
"Well," she said, leaning close enough that their noses touched, "I'm asking you."
She pulled away slightly and held her hand out, which he took. They interlaced fingers and he followed her lead. She squeezed them through the sea of people until they found a small space to move. Bonnie stood in front of Damon, then reached behind her and pulled him close to her so that his front was to her back. He placed his hands on her lips as she gently swayed to the rhythmic music. That only lasted for a moment though, then Bonnie pushed her butt into him a little harder and moved more purposefully.
The song changed to something slow and sexy. Damon could hardly understand the words because of the strong accent of the singer but it didn't matter. He was lost in Bonnie's silent seduction. She wound her hips and bent her knees in time with the song, slowly but surely burying his crotch tighter and tighter into her backside. She rested her back against his chest and curved her arm around to hook behind his neck. He bent down and nuzzled her neck and even with the loud music, he felt the vibration of a moan. He wanted to lick her, bite her, kiss her, but he had a promise to keep.
Bonnie didn't seem interested in his remaining a gentleman.
She pushed his face further into her neck until he finally opened his mouth and sucked her skin. She hissed and encouraged him to continue when she threaded her fingers into his hair and lightly scratched his scalp. He held her lips tighter and thrust into her from behind and she moaned again. He continued to suck her skin, then kissed his way down to where her shoulder and neck met. He bit that spot and Bonnie gasped and actually stopped moving for a moment.
"Don't stop," he whispered in her ear.
She shivered and then resumed her movements. Damon's hands left her hips and slid down her sides where they were met with the bare skin of her thighs. He gripped the flesh there before inching his hands up little by little, until one of them disappeared underneath her barely-there dress. He skimmed her inner thigh and felt a tiny scrap of fabric that he assumed was a thong. The mental image of that made him groan. Bonnie stopped dancing again and she looked at him over her shoulder. They locked eyes and Damon waited for her to tell him to stop.
She didn't.
And he just wasn't strong enough to stop himself. He was helpless to keep his finger from sliding between her legs and he almost exploded in his pants when he felt that she was wet. For him. Bonnie Bennett, the judgey little witch who at one point would have probably preferred to eat glass than be in the same room as him, was wet because of what he was doing to her.
She wanted him. And he wanted her. In every position imaginable and if they didn't get it together right then, he was going to take her against a wall in the club. So he found it in himself to stop. He slid his hand from under her dress and placed it back on her hip. Bonnie raised a questioning eyebrow.
"Bonnie, come on, let's dance on the table!"
Elena swooped in, oblivious to what was going on between them, and yanked Bonnie away before she could even object. Damon's brain was moving too slowly to stop them and the next thing he knew, they were on top of a table. He took that moment to go to the bathroom, where he splashed some water on his face and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked drunk and he knew Bonnie was drunk. As much as he wanted her, it wasn't the right time to make a move.
He managed to keep himself under control for the rest of the night, not allowing his hands to venture lower than Bonnie's hips whenever he touched her. They finally called it a night at 4 in the morning and on the way back to the villa, Bonnie fell asleep on his shoulder. She was groggy but woke up enough to let him lead her inside. Once they got to their bedroom, she disappeared into the bathroom and Damon disrobed and climbed into bed. He rested with his hands behind his head and watched in amusement as Bonnie stumbled back out, still in her sexy dress but her makeup gone and hair pulled up. She bent over her luggage and Damon got an obstructed view of her butt and he couldn't stop himself from whistling. She snapped up and gave him the middle finger and went back into the bathroom, this time with clothes in hand.
He heard the sink running and a few minutes later, she reappeared in a tank top and shorts and looking more sleepy than drunk. She crawled into bed and settled right on top of Damon. She buried her nose in his neck and moaned, which made him smile. He reached over and turned the lamp off, which left only a sliver of moonlight to illuminate the room. His hand found the small of her back and he rubbed it gently. They were quiet for a long time and he assumed she had fallen asleep, until she spoke.
"Damon?" she asked quietly.
"Hmm?"
She didn't say anything immediately. "Why did you stop? When you were touching me."
"Because despite your best efforts to get me to break my promise, I'm trying to behave myself. I don't think fingering you in a club would fall into the gentleman's category."
Bonnie snorted. "I guess that's true. But it would be okay if you misbehaved a little bit."
"Maybe," he said as he slipped his hand underneath her tank top and caressed her bare skin. "But you're drunk. I didn't want to take advantage of you."
"Hm," was her response. "When did you develop a moral compass?"
"Very recently," he said with a little laugh. They fell into a comfortable silence until he added, "and besides not wanting to take advantage of you, I don't want you to wake up and not remember what happened. I want you nice and sober the first time I make you come."
Her breathing stopped for a moment and then she looked up at him.
"Who says I'll let you?" she whispered.
Damon grinned. Leave it to Bonnie to act like she wouldn't let him have his wicked way with her even after she was aroused at the club and even after she asked him why he stopped touching her. Every action made it clear that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, but she was still going to deny it and fight him until the bitter end.
He loved that about her.
"You will," he whispered back, using his other hand to touch her chin. "We won't do it in a hot sweaty club. We'll be in my bed and you'll be naked, ready and spread open for me. I'll make you come over and over again. And when you do, you'll scream my name and tell me how good I make you feel." He leaned up and brushed his lips against hers, and her eyes fluttered closed. "I'm going to stamp my name on that pussy, Bonnie. And when I do, you'll never want anybody else."
When he pulled away, Bonnie looked throughly mind-fucked. Her eyes were closed, lips parted and her breaths were short and choppy. He didn't need vampire hearing to know that her heart was racing because he saw the furious pulsing in her neck. He was sure that if he slid his hand down her shorts and flicked her clit, she would come apart in his hands.
But he didn't do that. He lay back down on the bed and gently pulled Bonnie on top of him. He stroked her hair and smiled to himself.
She was his. She just didn't know it yet.