A/N: Thanks everyone for your wonderful comments, and for taking the time to read this story. I know I kept you waiting for this chapter. It wasn't my intention but r/l has been kicking my behind for the past two weeks. Thank you BtrixMcG, and to my amazing pre-reader, C, for reading this through for me.

I've been giving my chapters names lately, but this chapter just doesn't have one. Not much else to say...hope you like.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Name: Untitled

Damon couldn't have cared less about the rain. He was too busy trying to decide whether he should grab Elena, and shake some sense into her, or take her in his arms and kiss her doubt away. She'd touched him. She'd felt how turned on he'd been; how very much he wanted her, and it had nothing to do with Stefan. Even after everything that had happened that day, Damon couldn't understand why she would think it would. He knew he'd been far too careless with her feelings, but he would never, ever, use her. Nor would he feign interest in her for the sake of winning a game. She should know that.

"This has nothing to do with Stefan," he said to her, reaching out and stroking her face through the rain.

He hated how upset she looked; how vulnerable. She was hurting, yet again because of him, but this time she shouldn't be. He knew now; he knew with every fiber of his being that he wanted whatever they could have together. He wanted her. He wanted to be with her. He wasn't afraid anymore. He'd come to his senses. Their kiss had been a perfect moment that should have shown her everything he felt for her, but instead she'd taken it as part of his game with Stefan.

"Damon, we have to go."

They couldn't go yet. He couldn't let her believe for one more moment that this wasn't real for him.

"You have to believe me, Elena. Please tell me you believe me."

"The first time you show any interest in me in thirteen years is the same day he does." Elena said to him. "What am I supposed to think?"

"You're supposed to think you know me better than that."

She looked so damn uncertain, and he could feel the hands of despair and desperation trying to reach out and grab him again, but he wasn't going to let them drag him under. So maybe one kiss wouldn't erase the ten years she'd spent feeling rejected by him. He was going to have to do better than that. He was going to take her back to the house and show her how much he wanted her. He was still partly aroused from their kiss, and as he thought about the possibilities for the night ahead, he grew even more aroused.

"Please, Damon, we need to go."

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, and Elena looked at him with real fear in her eyes. She was also shivering. Until now, he hadn't even realized that the rain was cold. In spite of the way the temperature had suddenly dropped, he felt heat coursing through him.

"Let's go then."

He grabbed her hand, and began immediately pulling her along with him towards the shore. Once they were out of the waist deep water, they were able to move faster. Damon didn't even bother looking for his shoes when they were back on the beach. They had drifted away from where he'd left them, and he wasn't going to find his shoes in this weather.

The rain was so heavy, and the wind was so fierce, that their progress back to the house was too slow. They had barely made it half a mile down the beach when Damon saw car lights flashing in the distance. They ran up the beach to where Elijah was waiting for them in a section of forest that led onto the beach. Damon opened the back door and helped Elena into the car, and then he got in after her.

"What were you thinking, Damon?" Elijah asked as he reversed. "Taking off like that? You were supposed to be at the bonfire."

"I never meant to be gone so long. I lost track of the time."

After seeing Elena shivering uncontrollably, Elijah fiddled with the heating in the car, blasting hot air through the vents in the back. Elena was shivering so violently beside him that Damon was starting to worry. He didn't even bother putting on his seatbelt; just wrapped his arms around her and tried to warm her. Elena curled up against his side, but it didn't seem to make any difference. He was relieved when the house finally came into view. Damon thanked his employer for the ride back to the house, then he concentrated on getting Elena back to the room.

"I'm g-g-going to t-take a sh-shower," she said when they were through the door.

Damon resisted asking her whether he could join her, and instead let her go in by herself. He stripped off the wet shirt that was plastered to his skin and shoved it in a plastic bag, along with his wet shorts, and boxers. Then he grabbed the towel he'd slung over the couch earlier, wrapped it around his hips, sat down on the couch and waited for Elena to get out of the shower.

It took a long time for Elena to stop shivering, even with hot water streaming over her. She put it down to the complete exhaustion she felt. Today had wrung every emotion from her. She didn't think she could feel one more thing tonight. It had been a very long day. She'd been jogging, hiking and then she'd been through a complete kaleidoscope of emotions as Damon finally figured out he was her Mr X, and she'd ended their thirteen years of friendship. She was so tired she wanted to collapse, and she still felt cold; like she couldn't quite shake the chill she'd caught. She wanted to get into bed and warm up. When she finally left the bathroom, and saw Damon waiting for her, however, she knew the day still wasn't over.

"I just can't tonight, Damon. I'm too tired."

Damon thought he too should probably be tired, but he wasn't. He was wide awake. His adrenaline was pumping. He felt like he had a new lease on life. He felt excited, and happy, and he wanted to share everything he felt with her. His newfound happiness was, after all, because of her; because he'd finally stopped being afraid, and was embracing what he should have understood years ago. She looked so pale, and fatigued, however, that he knew his plans of spending the night in bed together were not going to be ones he could follow through on. That would have to wait till tomorrow. He had to talk to her now, though. He had to tell her how he felt. He couldn't let her believe that what he felt was because of Stefan.

He stood up and walked towards her, needing to be close to her as he said what he was about to say. He took her hands in his.

"What happened in the water tonight had nothing to do with Stefan. I know that I hurt you today, but I didn't mean to. I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I would never use you-"

"Damon, stop. I can't. Not tonight. I have nothing left."

"I'm not asking for anything, Elena. I'm telling you that I didn't kiss you because I saw you with Stefan. I kissed you because deep down I've always wanted to, and I've never had the courage too. I have been fighting what I've felt for you since the Cape-"

"And you managed to fight it just fine. Until today."

"Look at me, Elena. You know me. I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't make you part of the game. It's not about Stefan."

Elena sighed. She wasn't up to this tonight. She'd told him that. To be honest she felt a little shaky. She'd been holding onto the anger his words from earlier today had made her feel, but gradually that anger was slipping away. Her decision to walk away from their friendship earlier today had been made in the heat of the moment. Between his apologies, and his confession that he felt unworthy, he was melting the barrier she had been trying to resurrect between them over the past few hours. That said, she still didn't believe his desire for her had nothing to do with the day's events.

"I know you would never do anything deliberately to hurt me, yes, but I think seeing me with Stefan somehow made me more attractive to you."

He shook his head. "No. The way I feel about you has nothing to do with him. I was scared that I was going to lose you if I let myself think about you that way, but I was wrong. I just didn't realize it until today. I want us to be together. I want a relationship with you."

He was reaching, Elena thought. He was so afraid of losing her that he would do anything to hold onto her. How else could she explain his sudden desire to be with her? He was so afraid of her walking away from him that he would do anything to keep her; and that included trying to give her what she wanted – him. He had apparently forgotten that he was in love with another woman.

"And what about Katherine?" she asked him.

The question had Damon reeling. He had completely forgotten about the other woman; hadn't thought of her once since he'd walked away from her at the bonfire earlier.

"I'm done with Katherine," he told her decisively.

"You are?"

"Yes," he said to her, pulling her hands against his chest. "I want us, Elena-"

"You were in love with her at the start of the day. I can't believe you suddenly don't care about her anymore. Trust me; I know how long it can take to get over someone you're in love with."

"I want what I can have with you," he told her. "You have to give me a chance, Elena. You have to give us a chance. I'm ready for this, for us. I'll make you happy. We'll be happy. I just need you to let me show you."

Elena wanted to believe him as desperately as he wanted her to believe him. It had all just come far too late. She didn't trust Damon's newly found desire in her. He was scared of losing her and acting accordingly. When they got back to Mystic Falls and he finally worked out he didn't want her quite as much as he thought he did, she would be shattered beyond repair.

"I can't," she said. "It is too late. It's just too late."

Damon let go of her hands and stepped backwards. She'd been right, he thought. He should have waited till morning to have this conversation with her. Not because he believed it would change the outcome at all, but because he would have spent the night with hope as his company, instead of misery. She wasn't going to give him a chance; all because of Stefan.

"I'm the one who's sorry," he said to her. "You gave me two hours of knowing how you feel about me, to act on it, before you decided that everything I do now is about Stefan."

"Maybe it's not about Stefan," she said to him.

"Then-"

"But you don't really want me. You only think you do. You're afraid of losing me; whether to Stefan, or to anyone else."

"Yes I'm afraid; I was afraid, and that's why I didn't do this before."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't believe you."

No-one could be sorrier than he was. In one day he had pushed away the only friend he had, and he'd also lost the opportunity to become her lover; to deepen their friendship and see where it would take them. He'd lost so much that the devastation almost brought him to his knees. Now he suddenly felt very cold.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said to her.

Elena swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I'm going to bed. I think we should talk in the morning."

That was great, Damon thought; they were going to talk. Talking had got him into this mess in the first place. If he was lucky, Elena might have reconsidered her decision to end their friendship. That was all he could hope for now. He'd finally realized he wanted much more than friendship, but friendship was all he was going to get. Maybe: if she decided she wanted to be friends with him again…if his pleading and desperation had suddenly opened her eyes to how much she meant to him.

Elena slid inside the bed she'd made earlier that day, and closed her eyes. She listened to Damon taking a shower; heard him leave the bathroom and lie down on the couch. She didn't know if he was sleeping or not. Considering how tired she felt, she should be sleeping, but she couldn't; she was still cold. She suspected she was simply so tired that her body could not keep itself warm.

She was wearing a camisole, and shorts and she needed to put more clothes on, but they were on a tropical island, and the only clothes she'd brought were shorts, skirts and short sleeve tops. She also had several dresses, two cardigans, and that was all. The longer she lay there, the colder she felt. After an undetermined amount of time passed, Elena slipped out of bed, giving up on sleeping without warming up first. She needed to find an extra blanket, or a jumper. Damon sat up when she walked over to him.

"I'm cold," she told him. "Do they have any extra blankets in here?"

"I'm not sure. I'll go and ask someone."

Elena pictured him waking up Elijah or Klaus, and thought better or it.

"Can I borrow a shirt?" she asked him.

Some of his shirts were so big, that they were like jumpers on her anyway.

"Help yourself," he said to her, waving his hand in the direction of his case.

He seemed so miserable she had to stop herself from asking what was wrong. She already knew what was wrong; their relationship had imploded. It would be shaking his foundation as much as it was shaking hers. They had to talk in the morning. There was no way either of them could get through the rest of the week like this. She took a shirt out of his case, put it on over her camisole, and slipped back into bed. Unfortunately, the shirt didn't make any difference at all, and after her trip out of bed she was even colder than before. She began to shiver again. The more she shivered, the more she tensed, and soon her teeth were chattering. They were so loud that she didn't hear Damon approach the bed.

"Move over," she heard him say to her.

Elena was so cold now, she didn't bother arguing. Damon slid in beside her and spooned her. His body was hot and toasty, and when he wrapped himself around her, she found herself snuggling into him, trying to get warm, and in spite of the pain they'd caused each other during the day, she took comfort in his nearness. Eventually the shivering and the shaking began to ease, and she finally drifted off to sleep listening to the sound of the rain beating down on the rooftop.

When Damon woke up it was still dark, and his arms were still tightly wrapped around Elena. Her hair tickled his face, and he buried his nose in it now, inhaling her clean scent. He'd never been so close, and yet so far from a dream in his life. She was in his arms, but he wasn't allowed to touch her the way he really wanted to. She moved ever so slightly and it broke the tenuous grip he'd had on his desire.

Tonight could have ended so differently, Damon thought. She could have been lying spent and sated in his arms after a night of lovemaking. He wanted nothing more than to be buried inside her, giving them what they both needed; erasing away the pain of the day they'd had, and making her forget all her doubts. His body responded in accordance with his thoughts. He had to get out of there. She was warm now anyway. He moved backwards in the bed, and began withdrawing his arm.

"Damon."

"Mmm."

"Don't go," she murmured, moving back, to find his body with hers, obviously not wanting to lose her hot water bottle.

She made a noise when her backside connected with his erection.

"What is-"

"I know you know the answer to that, Elena."

"Oh."

"See, in spite of what you think, I do want you."

She turned around to face him.

"Since today," she said to him.

"No, not since today. I've been fighting my feelings for you since we were at the Cape. I told you that."

Damon was growing increasingly frustrated with her lack of listening skills.

"You did, but-"

"But what?"

"But you didn't let yourself give into it."

"No. I turned it off. Or at least I tried to."

"And you'll turn it off again."

"I won't. I can't this time."

She shook her head.

"Elena," he said impatiently, "I want you. Badly. And it has nothing to do with Stefan, or of how afraid I am of you walking away from me. In fact it's in spite of the fact I'm worried you don't want me in your life anymore. Today has been the worst day of my life, so would you please stop telling me what I do or don't feel, and what I can and can't turn off."

"Okay," she said, propping her arm up, and resting her head on her hand.

"Okay?"

"Do you want to talk?" she asked him.

"I'm in bed with a beautiful woman and she's asking me if I want to talk. My first thought is no."

Elena felt herself flushing with pleasure. He'd called her beautiful.

"You really felt something for me at the Cape?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about it."

"What do you want to know?" Damon asked, mirroring her, by propping his head on his hand.

"I don't know. Anything."

"You were wearing a red and white bikini that first day at the beach. I couldn't stop staring at your breasts."

His gaze flicked down to her breasts now, as if to acknowledge their part in the conversation. They were covered by two layers of clothing, a sheet, and a blanket, but she still felt naked. His gaze lingered there for a moment, and when his eyes finally met hers again, Elena knew the heat she saw in them this time was real.

"I never noticed," she whispered.

"When we went back to the beach house, I locked myself in my room, and imagined you were there with me."

"Are you saying…?"

"I thought about you."

"You thought about me while you…"

"Mmm-hmm."

His smirk, combined with the image of him doing that, sent a rush of damp heat to her core. He reached out and wound a lock of her hair around his fingers, before letting it go, and sweeping it off her face.

"You, and your breasts, were the star of my fantasy. It was the quickest I ever…"

Maybe his desire for her wasn't so new, Elena thought.

"I felt so guilty afterward. I thought you would hate me if you knew what I'd been doing; what I'd been thinking. I thought you would want to end our friendship."

She shook her head. "I was falling in love with you. I thought you were going to ask me to the dance that summer. I couldn't believe it when you said you wanted to take Joanna."

"I wish I'd known. I would have taken you."

"When I watched you leave the dance with her, I wished you were leaving with me instead."

Ten years of misunderstandings and miscommunication had led them here, Damon thought. It seemed like loving him had only made her miserable. She'd said today she was getting over him. Did he really deserve the second chance he'd begged her for earlier? He wanted them to be together; he wanted it more than anything, but maybe she was better of getting over him. He couldn't be selfish with her anymore. Whatever she decided she wanted would be something he would have to accept.

"I hate that I've hurt you," he told her.

"I know."

"You're the last person I ever wanted to hurt, Elena."

"I know."

"Whatever you decide about our friendship, my desire for you is real. I know I came here to make Katherine jealous, but ever since we arrived here I've barely been able to keep my eyes off you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. Even last night, when we were dancing, I wasn't thinking about Katherine. I was thinking about you."

Her breath hitched, as his eyes caught and held hers.

"About what it would be like to go to bed with you."

A small whimper escaped her, and her heart tried to hammer out of her ribcage. Her eyes were still locked with his.

"About what it would be like to kiss you, and touch you. What it would be like to be inside you."

She was so incredibly turned on. His name came out as a needy whisper. Hearing him say those things to her was like a dream come true. Maybe he did want her. Right now she didn't care about why; only that she was so close to having what she'd been imagining for the last ten years. She couldn't hold back any longer. She closed the distance between them, and kissed him softly on the mouth. When she pulled back from him, his eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them.

"Lena," he choked out.

"Yes," she told him. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Kiss me. Touch me. I want you to make love to me."

Even if she hadn't invited him to do so, Damon didn't think anything could have stopped him from going ahead and taking what he wanted. Her lips met his again. He wanted to take his time; take it slow, leave her with no doubt of how she affected him, and how much he cared about her, but the knowledge that ten years had passed, and been wasted, left him far too impatient. He needed to be inside her so desperately, it took everything he had not to take off her bottoms and give them what they both craved right now.

As if she felt the same, she moved so that she was sitting astride him, her hands diving into his hair, as she kissed him with urgency. His hands moved to her hips, caressing the warm soft skin under the tops she was wearing. He could hear the sound of the blood rushing in his ears, could feel his heart pumping hard and fast. Her tongue slid along his, as she moved her hips, riding his cock with her clothes on. He could feel how wet and hot she was through her shorts.

She ripped her mouth away from his, sitting up, and tearing off the camisole, and tee-shirt she was wearing, in one go. He'd never seen her like this before. She looked incredible; her cheeks flushed; her eyes glazed over from lust – lust she felt for him. She was like a gift that he'd been waiting his whole life to unwrap. His hands came up to cup her breasts immediately.

"They're even more perfect that I imagined."

Elena didn't respond; couldn't for the life of her work out how to talk. Her head fell back in ecstasy as he palmed them, and stroked them; he brushed his fingers over each hardened peak, before sitting up so he could take them in his mouth. This was what it was supposed to feel like, Elena thought. This was what had been missing from every other sexual encounter she'd ever had. She rocked her hips back and forth, needing the friction as his mouth tugged at her nipple, his tongue circling the rigid peak. She moaned loudly, and he pulled away and looked at her; his expression so lustful she felt her desire winding tighter and tighter inside her. The need to be filled by him was suddenly overpowering.

"Damon," she breathed. "I need more. I need you."

"We should have done this so long ago," he said to her, whipping his shirt off, and then rolling her underneath him.

Elena shimmied out of her shorts, with his help. He never stopped kissing her, and as soon as she'd shaken them off her legs, his hand went straight to the wet heat between her legs.

"I can't believe how wet you are," he murmured against her mouth.

Elena responded by opening her legs wider, inviting him further in. One finger, then two slid inside her, making her cry out with pleasure. He was finally inside her, she thought. She'd waited twenty-seven years to be touched by a man she was actually in love with. He was the only man she'd ever loved. It had only ever been him. His mouth traveled down her neck, along her collarbone and down to suckle at her breast, while his fingers slicked over her clitoris and pumped in and out of her. Her hips came up off the bed, and she hurtled closer and closer to her orgasm.

"That's it, baby," he told her. "Let it go."

Time and place were completely forgotten as her desire reached its inevitable conclusion. It was a heart stopping, body slamming orgasm that had her pulsating around his fingers, and trembling uncontrollably while she rode it out. She was still shaking slightly, and breathing heavily as Damon began kissing her on the mouth again. Feeling his desire digging into her hip, begging for her touch, she turned on her side so she could more easily run her hands all over him.

"God, yes," he whispered as one hand slipped inside the waistband of his boxers, so she could stroke him.

"You're big," she breathed.

Of course Damon knew he wasn't small, but he felt a stupid amount of pride that she had assessed him and found him not lacking. As soon as she started running her hand up and down his shaft he knew he couldn't wait any longer.

"I need you," he told her.

Elena felt a large amount of amazement that she'd been able to do this to him. He felt lust for her; he felt desire for her. He needed her.

"I've only been waiting ten years for you," she told him, as they both worked to take his boxers off.

Then she was underneath him again, and he was between her legs; his eyes locked with hers. It was Damon's intention to inch inside her slowly, bit by bit; to savor and draw out the moment, but when she wrapped her legs around his hips and urged him to complete her, his control slipped away completely. They both moaned with approval as he slid inside her. She was so hot, so wet, so tight. She was so perfect; so perfect for him. He couldn't believe he could have had this ten years ago if he hadn't been so stupidly in denial. And he had been in denial, he decided. This was what he'd wanted and needed all along; no-one else but her. They were supposed to be together. They were meant to be together. He saw the emotion brimming in her eyes. She'd just realized it first, he thought.

"Elena," he whispered.

"I love you," she whispered back.

"I love you too," he told her, stroking the side of her face.

He heard her breath catch, saw the surprise in her eyes. She wasn't the only one who was surprised. It had just been a reaction; it had felt like the most natural thing in the world to say it, but it was true. Now that he'd said it, he knew it was the truth. He was the faceless dude from his dream who wanted to eat her pie, wanted to make her laugh, wanted children, and a home with her. Relief washed through him. That was the real reason he'd been so afraid to lose her. It wasn't just because she was the only person he'd let in; it was because he was he one hundred percent head over heels in love with his best friend.

"Damon?" she questioned as she stared up at him.

"I love you," he told her again, before kissing her, and starting to move.

Elena wrapped her legs around him tighter. He couldn't mean it, could he? He was caught up in the moment; caught up in how good they felt together. Even she had had no idea they would be this good together. She pushed her doubts out of her mind. Nothing mattered right now but how amazing it felt to be with him. He drove himself into her again, and again, and again; their sweat slicked bodies moving together as one; their tongues dancing together, and their hands all over each other. Soon she was being catapulted towards another earth shattering climax. When she went over the edge, she took him with her; the tightening of her body, and her pleasure, taking its toll on any control he had left.

At the end they lay there in each other's arms breathing hard; not speaking. Elena didn't know what to say anyway. Now that she wasn't swept up in his lovemaking and his caress, the doubts were quickly taking their hold on her. Yes, tonight had showed her that he did feel desire for her, but desire wasn't love. It was just too soon, she thought – for him to feel that way about her. Up until at least yesterday, or half way through today, he had been in love with another woman.

He was going to wake up tomorrow and realize he'd been wrong; that he wasn't really in love with her, and that would be terrible for both of them. What if he saw Katherine tomorrow and thought tonight had been a huge mistake? He would feel trapped, and she didn't want that. He had already been trapped by his fears for far too long. Until tonight she hadn't quite comprehended just how much so, and now she was the one feeling like a bad friend.

She had to tell him she wanted his friendship again; that their friendship should be their first priority. She had already forgiven him for the things he'd said. Once he realized she wasn't going to walk away from him again, and that it was his friendship was what she wanted most, he wouldn't feel quite so bad when he realized he couldn't go through with this idea of a relationship with her.

Right now, however, she was in his arms, and she was done talking for the day. She was tired, and her lids were getting heavy. Tomorrow she would let him off the hook; but tonight she would allow herself to be in the arms of the man she loved. She could pretend for one evening that he loved her back; that his heart was hers, and that she wasn't going to spend the rest of her life trying to get over her best friend.