We made the journey to the house in silence, Damon’s car handling the winds and twists in the road with precision – I barely noticed when he pulled up in front of the house that I’d come to think of as a second home. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth when Damon, clearly caught up in thought, tripped over a stone on the path up to the front door. The contents of my bag, which I’d forgotten to zip, sprawled across the path, and Damon looked so funny with his butt stuck in the air like that, that I could no longer suppress my giggles! Damon jumped to his feet immediately, brushing his little fall off as if nothing had ever happened – but then his eyes fell on one of the articles from my bag, at his feet. His eyes lit up, and my face filled full of horror as I realise that none other than my black lace bra and thong were splayed on the path in full view of Damon.
Damon wolf whistled, and before I could stop him, he’d picked my underwear up, turning it over in his hands... his trademark smirk was plastered all over his face – I felt my face flush crimson with embarrassment.
“Give it BACK Damon!” I screeched, charging at him, slamming the car door behind me.
“Or what?” He taunted, “I’m going to have some fun with this, Miss Gilbert... who knew you had such sexy underwear!” My face, right now, I was pretty sure was the colour of a tomato. It was my fault for even packing the lingerie in the first place – after all, it was only because of Damon I had packed it!
He raced in through the open door of the Salvatore Mansion, and I followed, my feeble human speed no match for his vampire agility. He danced in front of me, taunting me with the offensive lace garments. I jutted my bottom lip out in a pout, and he smirked.
“Someone isn’t happy with me waving their underwear around, are they?” I shot him a spiteful look, deciding to give up and wait until he got bored before getting the articles of clothing back off him. I made my way into the living room and poured myself a glass of what looked like vodka. I spat it out. Yuck. Whatever that was, it wasn’t Vodka. Slouching on the couch, I picked up the book nearest to me, and leafed through it. Some dull historical novel, how interesting. However, I kept my focus on leafing through the musty yellowed pages, rather than the image of the older Salvatore brother.
Damon was leant against the door frame, my bra slung over his shoulder and thong in his teeth. I shuddered. That man really was disgusting, sometimes. When I finally looked up to meet his gaze, he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
“Hey sweetie... why don’t we go up to my room and you can model these for me?” He laughed and I shot him a look that spat pure hatred. He was acting like a total jerk, as if he was trying to dismiss his admissions about how he felt about me that had been unearthed only half an hour before.
“Or you could just wear them down here...” he trailed off, and before I knew it, he was perched above me, his muscular arms raising him off my form on the sofa below, his face inches from mine. I shot him a warning look, trying to turn my attention back to my book. I was doing a pretty decent job of trying to concentrate, that was, until he wordlessly began trailing a finger up my leg. My skin burned where he had touched me, and I shivered with pleasure. The smirk - that I had come to know so well lately - lit his face up, as he felt my reaction to his touch. He stopped before he got too close to the inside of my thighs, and I couldn’t help being a little disappointed... the tease!
If that was how we were going to play it... I used the only friend I had in this instance – the element of surprise – and flipped Damon over from on top of me, so I was hovering inches from his form. His mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise before the ever-present smirk returned... and as I began to trail my hand up his leg, nearing ever closer to his manhood, his face turned to a look of sheer confusion. Oh yes, I thought, two can play at this game!