Chapter 9

Bonnie went into the night with a plan. Since she had no confidence that she wouldn't do something embarrassing in her sleep, she decided that she simply wouldn't go to sleep. Her plan was to stay up all night with Damon and sleep after he left. And when he arrived, she already had all her tools laid out: the Monopoly board was spread out on the coffee table, "The Bodyguard" DVD was in the player, she had Chinese food on the way and a back-up game of poker, in case the Monopoly game didn't last long enough.

It started out well. She roped Caroline into a game of Monopoly that lasted nearly four hours before Caroline declared she was going to "die of boredom" and quit, and another two hours before Damon was finally crowned the winner. They transitioned into their five hundredth viewing of "The Bodyguard," and Bonnie barely made it out of that awake. She and Damon were snuggled up on the couch, with the lights off, and everything in her body screamed to go to sleep. She dozed off once or twice but quickly snapped awake when the credits began to roll and Damon scooped her up in his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked, trying her hardest to keep her eyes open.

"It's bedtime, Judgey," he said as he deposited her on the bed.

Her eyes widened a little when she saw him removing clothes, and the fear of falling asleep with him was like a jolt of adrenaline. She sat up and turned the side lamp on, which made him frown.

"I'm not sleepy," she said. "Let's stay up and do something else."

"I've already kicked your ass in Monopoly and watched that damn movie with you. What else do you want to do?"

"We can watch something else," she offered. "You pick this time."

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You know it's like two in the morning, right? And you look like you're going to pass out at any second."

"I'm not sleepy," she insisted. And then she yawned.

"Right." Damon walked to her side of the bed, turned her lamp off, and then walked back around to his side and climbed in. He pulled her body to his and held her closely. Bonnie's heart thudded against her chest, and it only took a few seconds for Damon to comment on it. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing."

"Then why is your heart beating like you're terrified? And why don't you want to go to sleep?"

Bonnie tried to think of a good excuse, but she came up with nothing.

"I thought you weren't having nightmares anymore."

"I'm not. Not exactly, anyway."

"Bonnieeeee..." he said, dragging her name out in that way that told her he was not going to let the matter drop until she came clean.

"I can't tell you."

"What? Why not?"

"Because. It's personal."

"Personal?" he scoffed. "We're way past personal."

"Still, I can't tell you."

"Does Caroline know?"

"Yeah, but what does that matter?"

"Why can she know but I can't?"

"She's been my friend since we were little, Damon. And she's a girl."

"Oh, so because I have a penis, I'm not good enough to know your secret? That's sexist."

"Stop it."

"Tell me," he whined. "I'm the one who's been helping you through all this. I'm the one that stayed in the bed with you for three days and nursed you back to health."

"Are you really going to guilt me into telling you?"

"Is it working?"

Bonnie sighed and thought while she rested her head on his chest. She contemplated telling him, and wondered exactly how much she should tell him. Should she just tell him about the dreams, or tell him about his part in them? Her cheeks flamed just thinking of how he would react, but she figured that it might help to get it off her chest.

"I've been having dreams," she started.

"Okay."

She bit her lip and tried to slow her thumping heart. "Sex dreams."

"Okay..."

She should have stopped there, she knew. But the rest of it was hanging off her tongue and she bit the bullet before she could chicken out.

"About you."

There were several tense moments of silence and she was thankful that the room was dark so she couldn't see his face.

"That's it?" he asked. "That's what you're all freaked out about?"

Bonnie released a deep breath, relieved that he hadn't reacted in a worse way.

"Well, yeah. Don't you think that's embarrassing?"

"Dreaming about me?" he asked cockily. "Honey, have you seen me? There's not a woman I've met who hasn't had a few naughty dreams about me."

"You're so humble, Damon," she said dryly.

"So you had some freaky dreams about me. So what?"

"It's not just that they're dreams. They seem real and vivid, and sometimes when I wake up, it takes me a minute to realize that it's not real. I guess I was afraid that if you came over, I might accidentally grab your junk in my sleep or something."

"I've had worse things happen to me."

She smiled and hugged him. "Thanks for not teasing me."

"Oh, I'm gonna tease you, just not right now."

"You're such an ass."

"That's why you love me," he said, as he kissed her forehead.

She nuzzled his chest and squeezed him again, feeling much freer now that he knew. She was ready to finally give in to the sleep, when he spoke again.

"So, was it good?"

"What?"

"Our dream sex."

She looked up at him, hoping that he knew she was frowning at him in the dark.

"Seriously?" she asked.

"What? I have to make sure that your dream version of me isn't slacking off. I can't get a bad reputation."

"You are so ridiculous."

"Come on, just tell me. Stroke my ego a little."

Bonnie was pretty sure that she hadn't imagined the emphasis on "stroke."

"Yes. It was good."

"I hear a 'but' in there," he said.

"But..." She rested her head on his chest again so she wouldn't have to look at him as she said it. "I always wake up before I can...finish."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

They fell into silence again and Bonnie thought the conversation was over, until Damon spoke yet again.

"Would you like to finish?" he asked.

The playfulness in his voice was gone, and it had been replaced with a seriousness that made Bonnie's throat dry.

"What?" she asked lowly.

He rolled her onto her side, and then he rolled onto his so that they were facing each other. He held her body pressed to his and she could feel his breath on her lips as he spoke.

"I'm asking if you want me to pick up where Dream Damon left off, and finish the job for you," he whispered.

Bonnie's mind went haywire trying to comprehend what he was saying. Of all the ways she thought their conversation might play out, this hadn't been one of them.

"I...I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

She started to talk, but she stalled when his hand fell to her hip and his thumb rubbed just underneath her shirt.

"Elena," she said. "Because of Elena."

"I highly doubt that Elena expected me to be celibate the whole time she's gone. What's your next excuse?"

She really tried to think of all the thousands of reasons that they should not go there with each other, but they were all disappearing from her mind with every touch of his hand. He slid his fingers completely under her shirt and trailed his hand up and down her back.

"You don't see me that way," she said.

"I see you just fine," he countered. "I see a smart, loyal, powerful, beautiful young woman who's just waiting for someone to show her how sexy she is." Bonnie swallowed hard, especially as he took her hand and trailed it down his bare chest. A spike of anticipation, nervousness and excitement passed through her when he slid her hand down to his boxers and she got a handful of an erection. "Does this feel like I don't see you that way?" he asked.

Bonnie's eyes fluttered shut and she tried to think rationally, but that was nearly impossible. Damon didn't help matters when he leaned in and rubbed his nose on her neck.

"I think you're all out of excuses," he whispered.

"Damon..."

"I like the way you say that." He kissed her neck and his hand slid down to her butt, where he gave her a hard squeeze. She groaned but managed to pull away.

"I can't. We can't."

"Give me one good reason why."

"Because..."

"Because it won't feel good?" he asked. He snaked his other hand underneath her body and grabbed her butt there, too, so that her whole rear end was gobbled up in his hands.

"N-no," she stuttered.

"Because you're not attracted to me?"

"No."

"Then nothing else matters."

She was pretty sure that wasn't true, but all her doubts were silenced when he covered her mouth with his. As soon as his tongue slid past her lips, she knew that the dream version of him didn't do the real thing any justice. He was slow and gentle, but there was no mistake about who was in charge. He cupped her cheek in one hand and tilted her chin a little, putting her in the position to kiss him just how he liked it.

And unlike the dreams, where Damon did all the work, she allowed her hands to crawl up his torso and into his hair. The soft thickness of his hair made her want to pull it, and when she gave in to that desire, he groaned into her mouth.

"Do it again," he whispered.

Bonnie was by no means an experienced woman, but finding something that Damon liked made her feel like some sort of sex goddess. She tugged on his hair again, much to his satisfaction, and she kept doing it as he kissed down her neck and over the thin material of her shirt. He teased her with kisses along her stomach, never going up high enough to take her breasts or low enough to touch her where she really needed it. She was just about to complain, when he made up his mind.

He was going down. And the only thing that pulsed harder than her heart was the throbbing space between her legs.

"Lift," Damon said into the darkness. Bonnie wordlessly lifted her hips and allowed him to pull off her shorts and panties in one tug. She swallowed hard, both excited and nervous about being so exposed to him. She thought about stopping him or telling him to do something else, but he didn't give her time to protest before he lay flat on the bed, pulled her legs over his shoulders, and licked her.

"Oh...my...God," she moaned.

Her hands found the sheets and she gripped them in her fingers as Damon made a meal out of her in the best possible way. She tried to keep quiet because she didn't want Caroline to know what was going on, but she couldn't help the whimpers and sighs and occasional breathless pleas for him to keep going. Once he added his fingers to the equation, Bonnie could practically see the countdown to the big O in her head.

10, 9, 8, 7...

Just as she was about to round that corner, he stopped. She hadn't realized that her eyes were closed until she opened them. Rather than being met with the darkness, the room was illuminated with sunlight seeping in through her curtains. And rather than Damon looking as aroused as she felt, with mussed hair and moist lips, he just looked confused and a little bit worried. He hovered over her with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Bonnie, are you okay?" he asked.

She could still feel the tingle between her legs and in her stomach that she was mere seconds away from finally exploding.

"Why did you stop?" she asked.

He frowned further. "Stop what?"

His obvious confusion prompted her to look around the room, where she saw that everything was floating. Again. And she realized that she had dreamt the entire sequence of events. Again. And once that realization really settled into her mind, everything came crashing down, including Damon. Bonnie fell onto the bed, he fell on top of her, and his forehead smacked right against hers. The pain was instantaneous.

"Mother...fuck," she groaned, holding her head with both hands.

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

"No, I'm not okay! You just split my head open! Is your skull made of bricks?"

"Hey, it wasn't exactly fun for me either, you know."

"Oh my God," she muttered.

Damon rolled off of her and she heard him open the bedroom door. He was gone for a minute, and when he returned, she heard him place a glass and some pills on the nightstand next to her.

"For your head," he said. "I assume you don't want my blood."

"You assume correctly."

She expected some smart remark, but it never came. She curled on her side, away from him, nursing her throbbing head. She didn't immediately take the medicine, mostly because she knew that as soon as she did, he would want to know what the hell the floating and confusion were about. And she really didn't want to answer that. So she stalled, but he didn't move. She peeked over her shoulder to see him sitting up, smiling tightly at her.

"I'm a vampire, remember?" he asked. "I've got all the time in the world to play this little game with you."

"Ugh, fine."

She sat up gingerly and swallowed the pills, as well as a few gulps of water. She pressed her back to the headboard, mirroring Damon's position.

"So," he said. "You gonna tell me what that was all about?"

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh really? So the floating objects and you moaning like a cat in heat, that happens every night?"

Bonnie's cheeks flushed. "Shut up."

"What's going on?" he asked as he bumped her shoulder with his. "I mean, I think I can guess but I would like for you to confirm."

She sighed and pressed her head back. "I guess...I'm kind of...sexually frustrated," she admitted. "I've been having these dreams and when I wake up, everything's floating. I don't know why it started and I don't know how to control it. Just please tell me that I didn't do anything to you while I was asleep."

"Nothing I didn't enjoy," he said with a lecherous smile.

She smacked his arm. "Be serious. I really don't know what happened or what part of my dream was real."

"You fell asleep on the couch, I brought you to bed, and I went to sleep. A little while ago, you started moaning and squirming around and then shit started floating. That's when I woke you up."

Bonnie sighed in relief. "That's it?"

"Yeah, that's it."

Neither of them said anything for a while, and with every quiet moment, Bonnie felt more anxious. She knew that Damon had to have been wondering about when she asked why he stopped, and as much as it humiliated her, she figured it was best to come clean and admit that he was the star of her nighttime fantasies.

"Look, about when I asked you why you stopped..."

"Don't worry about it," he said, waving his hand at her. "You were half asleep. I guess in your sleep-induced haze, I could possibly look like Jeremy. A much hotter, more mature, exponentially more suave Jeremy, but I guess I could see it."

Bonnie frowned. "Jeremy?"

"Well, yeah. That's who you were dreaming about, right?"

Her eyes widened. Damon had given her an out, and he didn't even know it.

"Yeah. Yes. Definitely," she said, nodding too much. "Yeah, that's what I was going to say."

"Hmm. You know what this means, right?" Her blank stare answered that question. He hopped off the bed and clapped his hands. "Put on some clothes. I have a theory."

"Why does this theory require me to get out of bed?"

"Just trust me, Bennett."

Fifteen minutes later, they were out of the house and into his car. When they drove to the same park where they had trained before, Bonnie arched an eyebrow at him. He shooed her out of the car and to the same huge tree as before.

"Damon, what are we doing here? It's cold."

"You're going to pull that tree out of the ground," he said.

"I can't. Remember last time I tried to do that, my nose bled and then you tried to kill me."

"Do you know why I drove you off that cliff?" he asked, rocking back on his heels like a professor about to give a lecture.

"Hm, I don't know, maybe because you're an asshole?"

"Close, but no. I did it because I realized that in all the time I've known you, you've only ever done anything truly magical when you were either scared or angry. You were scared of me. And Katherine. And Klaus. And Silas. And Kai. And then of course, when you went ape-shit crazy with Expression, you were angry all the time. So I drove you off that cliff because I knew that if you were scared enough, you'd find a way to live."

Bonnie opened her mouth to dispute what he said, but the embarrassing truth was that he was right. She couldn't think of a single incident where she had really summoned all the magic dancing in her veins, other than when it was life or death.

"But I have a theory, Bon-Bon," he said. "Maybe it's not just fear and loathing that gets your juices flowing. Maybe lust does it for you, too."

"Oh, please, not this 'I need sex' talk again."

"Contrary to what you may believe, Sarah Palin, sex is natural. And as a witch, aren't you supposed to be a servant of nature?"

She folded her arms and scowled. "Did you just bring me out here to tell me I'm a frigid old maid or is there a point to all this?"

He held up his hands as if to say "picture this." "You're like a pipe."

"A pipe," she said dryly. "Wow."

"Hear me out. You're a vessel for magic, right? It's like the magic comes from nature, flows through you, and you're supposed to send it back out into nature. So yes, you're a petite, judgey little pipe. And like all pipes, you need regular cleanings or the plumbing gets clogged."

"Oh my God, please don't make a joke about penises and Drain-O."

Damon grinned. "Well, now that you stole my thunder, I won't." He walked behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Close your eyes."

She sighed and huffed but did as he said. She jumped a little when she felt his breath on her ear.

"When you're scared, or angry, or aroused, apparently, you're able to eek out a little magic passed that big clog in your body. But it's always uncontrolled and wild and usually gets you hurt. You're supposed to control your magic, not let it control you."

As irritated as Bonnie wanted to be by his words and his smug tone, she couldn't help but admit that he was right. Everything he said was right.

"It's scary that the stuff you're saying actually makes sense," she said, and she felt him smile near her face.

"I can be philosophical sometimes." He ran his hands down her arms and goosebumps broke out on her skin. "I want you to do an exercise. Keep your eyes closed, and think about that dream you had last night. Think about what turned you on so much that when you woke up, you didn't want it to stop."

Bonnie swallowed hard and tried to ignore the tightening of her nipples. She wondered if Damon knew how seductive he was being, from his words to the soft caresses to the warmth of his breath.

"Are you thinking about it?" he asked lowly.

Immediately, the memory of him between her legs came to her mind.

"Yes," she said, a little breathier than intended.

"It felt good, didn't it?" he whispered.

She gulped. "Yes."

"It made you feel sexy."

"Yes."

"Then embrace it."

She took a deep breath and embraced the feeling of being wanted and worshipped and adored. She didn't shy away from the slickness that accumulated in her panties as she replayed the dream in great detail.

"Open your eyes," Damon told her.

And when she did, she saw that although the huge tree had not been completely torn from the ground, several roots were floating, as well as leaves, flowers and many smaller trees. Bonnie gasped and Damon moved away from her, looking triumphant.

"Just imagine what you could do if you really let yourself go," he said.

She took a moment to really see what she had done and for the first time in a while, she felt good. No headaches, no nose bleeds, and the magic had been so effortless. This was how magic was supposed to be, she knew. She smiled at him and said, "let's do it again."

They spent the next several hours in the park, practicing and training. By the time they called it a day, Bonnie felt strong. Horny as hell, but strong. They chatted all the way to the apartment, and when Damon stopped the car, he kept the engine running.

"You're not getting out?" she asked.

"I figured I'd let you have tonight to yourself. I have a homework assignment for you."

She rolled her eyes. "What?"

"I want you to go inside, relax, pour yourself some wine, light some candles, and take a bath. And while you're in that bath, I want you to masturbate."

If Bonnie had had anything in her mouth, she would have spit it out. Her eyes widened, cheeks reddened, and Damon grinned.

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't stutter," he said. "You saw what you could do, and you could do so much more if you actually let yourself get some relief instead of holding it in like a nun. And don't act like you don't know how. You've diddled the skittle plenty of times."

A boisterous laugh rumbled out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "Diddled the skittle? And before you said polishing the pearl. I know I'm going to regret asking this, but exactly how many euphemisms for female masturbation do you know?"

He looked way too excited to answer the question and he held up fingers as he counted. "Let's see, there's buffing the bonnet, or in your case, the bennett. Paying lip service, checking for squirrels, cranking up the fuzz box, double clicking the mouse, shining the diamond, shucking the oyster..."

"Okay, okay," she said, cutting him off. She really couldn't help laughing, which only seemed to please him. "Wow. You really are a fourteen-year-old boy."

"Hey, I've been around a long time," he said with a shrug. "I've learned a lot about ladies tickling the banjo. See how I slid in another one?"

"You are unbelievable, Damon Salvatore."

"You love it. Now get out. Go relax and love yourself. There, is that better?"

"Not even a little bit," she said as she got out.

Damon leaned over and yelled, "I want a full report tomorrow!"

"Not happening!" she yelled back.

She was still chuckling when she got into the apartment. She had no intentions of following his instructions, but after she cleaned up and wound down from the day, she realized that all of the work-up from their practice had left her...wanting. She tried to ignore it, but as the day transitioned into night, she slowly came around to the idea. So she ran herself a hot bath with her favorite lavender bubbles. She lit some candles and placed them all around the tub. She poured herself a glass of her favorite wine, and she took a few slow sips as she sank into the water.

It was relaxing, but she needed more.

So despite her resistance, if for no other reason than that she hated for Damon to be right, her fingers soon started to trail down her slick breasts, over her stomach, and between her legs. She hissed when she toyed with the engorged tissue of her clit and when she accepted that she was going to give in to her desires, she tried her hardest to think of Jeremy. He was, after all, the person that Damon thought she was fantasizing about. And he was the only man she'd ever been with.

The thoughts of Jeremy started out well enough. There was no denying that he had a gorgeous body, especially after all that vampire hunting. And even though her experience was limited, she knew that he was a good lover. He wanted to impress her and was desperate to please her, and based on some of the stories she'd heard from her friends, those were two traits you couldn't teach in a man. So she thought of him. But as she slipped a finger inside and rubbed herself a little harder, her thoughts took a turn.

Every time she envisioned Jeremy's straight brown hair, it changed to thick, jet black hair.

Every time she tried to see his brown eyes, the eyes staring back at her in her mind were blue.

She hit a particular spot and whispered, "Damon." But as soon as the word left her mouth, her eyes popped open and she cursed herself. "No. Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy."

She tried to convince herself of that and got back into the fantasy, and for a minute, it worked. But as she kept rubbing and stroking, she couldn't focus hard enough to keep her mind on track. She was too close to her climax to fight herself anymore, so she let the images of Damon assault her. She imagined him in the tub with her, kissing her neck from behind and thrusting into her from the bottom. Bonnie knew that he was the type to say dirty things and she could practically hear him telling her how good she felt, how wet she was, how much he wanted her to let go for him.

"Come for me, Bonnie," he would whisper.

And the thought was so hot that she inserted another finger, rubbed herself harder, and then bit her lip to stifle the scream of her release. The orgasm lasted for only a few precious seconds before it faded away. She dropped her head to the back of the tub, somewhat satisfied but also overcome with the knowledge that she wanted Damon.

And that was a problem.