Doing the Dance – Part II

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It's only just a crush, it'll go away
It's just like all the others it'll go away
Or maybe this is danger and he just don't know
You pray it all away but it continues to grow

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Her heart pounded as she crossed the threshold of the nightclub and into the masses. There was a steady beat that matched the thumping in her chest, and she scanned the room casually hoping to lock eyes with that distinguished blue. Nervously, she smoothed out her outfit; something that perhaps she would have found too risqué under normal circumstances, but she wanted to stand out. Her top was long sleeve, black and sheer, her only coverage being the black bra beneath it, showing off her taught stomach and waist. The skirt was black pleather, hugging her curves and just long enough to cover her ass. To finish the look, she wore a pair of knee-high boots. It was a dramatic change from the first time she saw him; colorful and flirty. This was sinfully mysterious. Just like he was. She wondered if he would fine the irony in it?

Bonnie let her friends whisk her away to the bar for drinks, even while her gaze bounced through the crowd. It was sometime between the first round of shots and the sixth round that Bonnie stopped looking. She lost herself to the music and danced as if she hadn't a care in the world.

She gasped when she was roused from her reverie by a pair of large hands coasted over her hips. A man had come up behind her his body surprising cool against the heat of hers. Her eyes closed and she leaned her head back on his chest, relaxing. "It's you…" She breathed, but despite the loud atmosphere surrounding them, he heard her.

His breath tickled at her ear. "It's me."

She smirked to herself, her hips still moving to the beat against him. "It's about time."

He chuckled, and the deep reverberation echoed through his chest to her back. "Have you been waiting for me?"

"No…" she lied. "Just curious if you'd show is all." She covered easily. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

He nuzzled her neck, smelling the blood pumping through her veins. It was intoxicating. He moved along with her, his hands caressing her languorously. She felt drunk, but not on tequila. "Oh really?" he purred, his fingers snaking across her stomach. "Is that why you're wearing this? Are you trying to get my attention?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. "I guess it worked, didn't it?"

He turned her in his arms gracefully, looking her over appreciatively before pinning her with an intense stare. "You've had my attention the second I laid eyes on you." He told her seriously.

She stared up at him, raptured. "Who are you?" He had come in out of nowhere and flipped her life on its head in the matter of days. She knew nothing about this man except his name, and yet she was willing to completely surrender herself to whatever this feeling was.

A finger trailed down the side of her face, until he was tipping her chin up. He cocked his head contemplatively. "I'm either the best or the worst thing for you." His response was reflective, and spoken more to himself than it was to her.

It terrified her and thrilled her all at once. Bonnie stepped closer. "Show me."

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Bonnie sat straight up out of bed with a gasp. Was that a dream? It had felt so real. She could still smell his cologne lingering in the air. She wiped the sweat from her brow and let out a shaky sigh as she threw the blankets off to cool down. It was the most vivid dream she'd ever had, and the only one she'd ever had that left her feeling damp in her panties. It was mildly embarrassing that a simple dream could have ignited those kinds of feelings in her. She hoped she hadn't woken her dormmate. A blush flushed her cheeks.

She got up gingerly, still feeling weak in the knees, and went to the bathroom to clean up. When she got back, she stood at the open window, letting the breeze cool her heated skin. I'm either the best or the worst thing for you. The words echoed in her head. It should have been a warning, but Bonnie was always an optimist.

…

He hadn't lied. He had seen her…she had just not seen him. All week, he followed her; learning her routine, recognizing her friends, finding out what she liked and didn't like. She was different than the other woman he'd entertained himself with. She was fiery and modest all at the same time. She had a confidence about her, while still being humble. She was compassionate, but she was also fierce. Bonnie Bennett was an anomaly to him; a code he needed to crack.

Last night he sat outside her window, warring with himself on if he should continue feeding this obsession. She had burrowed deep under his skin now, and the more he got to know her, the more he wanted from her. He had been close to leaving that night; leaving her window, leaving New York altogether, but then he caught her pleasured sigh from inside her room, and let himself into her mind. She was dreaming of him…his hands on her waist, his nose nuzzling her neck. She wanted it as badly as he did. He took his place in her dream, letting her take control, but guiding her through it. Show me. She was dangerous. This woman made him think about breaking his one and only rule.

By the end of that dream, he was as drunk on her as she was. He knew that scent now; the sweet musk he couldn't place before. It was her sexual desire, her essence…purely Bonnie Bennett. That and the pulse of her blood called to him like a beacon in the night. He had to have her.

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I want to hold you close
Skin pressed against me tight
Lie still, and close your eyes girl
So lovely, it feels so right

…

It had been a week, and still there had been no sight of her mystery man. Maybe she was over thinking it. Maybe her direct approach was too off-putting. Bonnie had tried not to let that bother her, but she couldn't help but feel disappointed.

It was Friday night, and she and her friends were returning to the same club she first saw him in. Would he be there? Would he want to see her again? Her dream from the night before returned to her, as she frantically searched through her closet. She had nothing as sexy and mysterious as what her mind had conjured up, and she was frustrated with herself for caring so much. That dream wasn't even real. You've had my attention the second I laid eyes on you. It made her pause in her search. Maybe she didn't need to be sexy and mysterious…maybe she just needed to be herself.

She settled on a backless, formfitting, pale gold halter dress with a plunging neckline, that showed off her plump breasts while still being classy. The color of the dress contrasted with the sun-kissed golden tan of her skin making her look like an Egyptian goddess.

They walked through the door, and it felt like déjà vu. Her eyes scanned the room for him, but he was nowhere to be seen. She had to be overthinking it. She hadn't seen him all week, why would he be here now? She forced herself to stop thinking about him, and threw herself into conversation with her friends, and the men that tried to get to know them better. She found herself engaged with one man that had bought her a drink, called her beautiful and asked for her number. He was saying all the right things; he seemed sweet and genuinely interested but something over his shoulder caught her eye and she was enthralled. There he was, watching her with a fervency that had her forgetting where she was.

"Excuse me…" she uttered, refusing to take her eyes off Damon. She left her drink at the bar, and weaved through the crowd to him, ignoring the man calling her back. She didn't stop until she stood before him. "It's you…"

A secret smile pulled at his lips. "It's me." He responded with a flash of his electric blue eyes. He stepped into her space, looking her over appreciatively. "I have to say, I like this look a lot more."

She reeled back blinking. It was a dream…wasn't it? She swallowed. "More than what?"

Damon stilled. She was making him reckless. "I hope I'm not keeping you from anything pressing." He deflected smoothly, his gaze darting darkly to the man still waiting for her return.

She glanced back over her shoulder, to see the guy walking off in confusion. When she glanced back to Damon she had a teasing smirk. "Why? Jealous?"

"I don't get jealous." That was a lie. He was green with it. She was his.

She bit her lip coyly, looking up through her dark lashes. "It's okay if you are…it means you like me."

He swallowed, letting his hands trail down her bare arms. She felt like silk. "And what if I did?"

One of her hands coasted up from his abs to his chest. He was rock solid under her fingertips and she felt a shock of excitement shoot through her. "If you did…then maybe I'd say I liked you too." She admitted shyly. "Which is crazy, because I barely know you." She laughed nervously.

But I know you…he thought to himself. "Are you sure you want to?" It was meant to be another warning, but it seemed to just intrigue her more.

A stunning smile pulled at her lips, and he swore his heart stuttered to life for a split second. "Yes. So…Damon, whoever you are. What do you want?"

I want to fucking tear you apart. The monster in him growled. He stepped back, putting some much-needed distance between them. It had been a long time since he was not aligned with the monster inside. For centuries he served his every whim, feeding his deepest and darkest desires…but when it came to Bonnie, he found himself holding back. "I have to go." He forced out, disappearing into the crowd.

Bonnie was left standing alone, confused and rejected. What had happened? What had changed? She collected herself, blinking away the tears that threatened to pool in her eyes, and made her way back to her friends.

Damon watched from the catwalk, a tortured pinch to his face. He'd hurt her…and it made him feel some type of way. It was not something that would have bothered him in the past, so why now?

…

AN: I was so excited about this one, I got a second chapter up right away for you. I really hope you like it, because I feel like there's a lot more story to tell here. Thank you for reading! - Vanessa