Chapter Text
"I'm bored."
Bonnie sighed. "Have you considered maybe doing something?"
He had been sat at the opposite end of the sofa, watching her read. He had developed a habit of it since they had been trapped here, and while she had found it creepy and irritating for a while, she had gotten used to it, and actually come to find his company strangely comforting. He ignored her question and stretched out languidly, and she pretended not to notice. That was the other (more disconcerting) thing that had changed over the time they had been there: She had started to notice him more. Like, notice notice him. At first, she had been irritated with herself for even thinking of him in that way - as well as his more problematic traits, he was Elena's boyfriend for Christ's sake - but at times like now, when his shirt had ridden up his stomach and exposed a thin sliver of perfectly toned abs, it was almost impossible not to appreciate what she saw.
"What are your feelings on Jenga?"
Lowering her book, she momentarily wondered if she had the word 'sucker' tattooed on her forehead.
"Damon, we played Scrabble, you cheated. We played Monopoly, you cheated. We played Risk, you cheated. I'm not falling for it again."
He shrugged. "Then we can play something I can't cheat at."
"What do you suggest? I think even if we played chess, I'd have to avoid blinking and count the pieces every turn."
"Truth or Dare?"
"You're not serious" His answering smirk said even if he wasn't before, he definitely was now. "Are you 170 going on 12?"
"C'mon Sabrina, it'll be fun."
"But it's so juvenile." Bonnie whined.
"I'm sure we can think of something to keep it out of the G rating." A shameless wink.
"Not a chance." She brought her book back up to her face.
"Fine. Your loss. I mean, hypothetically you could dare me to make something other than vampcakes for breakfast for a whole week. Or if I happened to choose truth, you could find out where I hid your precious Bodyguard tape and all the others."
Bonnie put down her book and glared at him. She had lost that tape six weeks ago, and he had sworn he didn't know anything about it, and weirdly none of the other houses in Mystic Falls seemed to have a copy. He looked completely unapologetic, and she rolled her eyes - evidently, he had been subjected to one too many chick flick nights, and this was the only way she would ever get the information out of him.
"Fine, but I'm gonna need a drink. And I get to ask first."
His ridiculous grin said he saw that as a victory. "You got it."
5 minutes later, Bonnie was wondering at the bizarre sequence of events that had led to her being sat in the Salvatore boarding house, drinking her second preparatory tumbler of vodka, listening to 90s music and playing Truth or Dare with someone she had once considered the scum of the earth.
"You still want first turn?" He refilled her drink - she was pretty sure he was trying to get her drunk so she would be less inhibited, but got the feeling she was going to need it.
"Damn straight. So, what's it gonna be?"
"Dare, obviously." He took up the seat opposite her.
"Do an impression of someone we know and I have to guess who it is."
"That's it? C'mon Bon, you can do better than that."
"I stand by my choice."
"Okay." He straightened up, taking on a more feminine posture and crossing his legs at the thigh. He batted his eyelashes a few times and mimed a hair toss. "Oh my god, I like, absolutely hate sports cars. Classy girls don't make out in sports cars. Nothing says 'I'm easy' like a gearshift in your ass."
Bonnie almost spit out her drink laughing. Even his tone was spot on. "Tell me you're not quoting Caroline verbatim?"
His posture returned to his usual nonchalant recline. "Hand to god. Why do you think I hate her so much? I've never heard something so offensive. Sports car my ass - my baby is a muscle car."
She chuckled again. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea, after all.
"Okay, hit me - truth."
"Fuck, marry, kill: Michaelson edition. Klaus, Elijah, Kol. Go."
"Oh god, why would you do that?! Wait... Are we including real world consequences in this? Like, whoever I gank their bloodline all dies?" A shake of the head from Damon. "Okay um... Well, I think I'll marry Elijah. He seems okay as far as bloodsuckers go, and he looks good in a suit, so at least my wedding pictures will be impressive. Klaus is basically evil incarnate, plus him and Caroline have that weird thing going on which squicks me out, and we spent so long trying to kill him so the opportunity would be kind of cathartic... So he's biting it. Which I guess leaves me sleeping with Kol - lovely. Thank you for that image. Your turn again."
"Dare."
"Are you just avoiding Truth so you don't have to tell me where my Bodyguard tape is?"
"Truth is boring. Only sticks in the mud choose Truth." She threw a cushion at him, which he infuriatingly dodged. "Dare."
Bonnie thought for a second, and threw him a sideways smile. "For that next 12 hours, you have to carry me everywhere I want to go."
"Done."
"In fact, I need the bathroom, and think my drink could do with some ice." She raised her arms like a toddler asking to be picked up. "Take me."
He gave her a sideways smile before getting to his feet. "I want you to know I saw the opportunity for a dirty joke and let it pass me by." She squealed as he lifted her bridal-style. "I think I'm growing as a person."
"Good to know my maturity is rubbing off on you." They both smiled at the absurdity of it as he carried her off.
When he returned to collect her from the bathroom, she shrieked as he threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.
"Ah-ah-ah. No complaining. You failed to specify how you wanted to be carried."
"Oh that's it, I'm done playing nice."
"Good to hear it. Should make things interesting. Anyway, I believe it's your turn."
"Truth...Aagh." He dumped her unceremoniously on the couch.
"Again?" Come on Bon, live a little."
"Nope. I made my decision. Ask away."
"Fine. Tell me a secret no-one else knows, not even Caroline and Elena."
"That's too vague."
"No rules against vague. Spill - and make it juicy or I'm ramping it up next round." Bonnie thought for a second. There was only one thing she had never told her best friends about.... But she definitely wasn't telling Damon. "Whatever made you make that face just now."
She reddened. "I am not telling you that."
"Ooh it's obviously a good one if it's got you this flustered. Spill."
Bonnie hesitated. "If we make it back, this secret DIES in 1994, okay?"
"Scout's honour"
"Like you were ever a boy scout."
"No, but I've probably eaten enough of them to qualify."
"You're disgusting."
"And you're stalling."
Bonnie steeled herself. "Care, Elena and I made a deal that we would join the cheerleading squad together. We all went to tryouts together. Care was a no-brainer, and Elena just about made the cut, but I didn't - I was only a reserve. They told me before the results were posted so I wouldn't find out in front of everyone. Our pact was that it was all of us or none of us, and they were both so excited, I couldn't let them miss out. At the time, Tyler was the captain of the football team, and he was dating Laurel, the head cheerleader, so he was the only person I knew who had any influence. Unfortunately, this was also back when he was a complete dick." Bonnie took in a deep breath. "He got Laurel to put me on the team, but he... He wanted something in return."
"Bonnie Bennett!" His exaggerated shock was infuriating. "You slept with the pup?!"
"No...Not exactly." Damon quirked an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. "I blew him, okay?"
He gave her a look that was somewhere between shocked and impressed.
"Wow, so Glinda's not such a good witch after all."
"You don't get to pass comment on this: You screwed Rebekah for information!"
"Yeah but everyone in Mystic Falls knows I've been under more sheets than a Klan rally. You're the one who walks on water. Or not, evidently."
"This goes to your grave."
"Now, I'm aware this is werewolf stereotyping, but I gotta ask: Did he howl?"
"TO. YOUR. GRAVE."
"Shake his leg?"
"DAMON!"
"Jesus, don't get your panties in a bunch. If it makes you feel better, I'll blow him too."
"And there's a mental image I never asked for, and yet will never be able to scrub from my brain."
"You're welcome."
"You're up. Truth or Dare?"
"Dare."
"Seriously? Again?"
"I told you. Truth is bo-ring. And someone has to pick up your slack in the dare department."
"Fine, but fair warning: I'm upping the ante."
"Oh, really? I would say blow me away, but given what I know now, I fear for my virtue."
Bonnie's mouth hung open in 'I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that' disbelief for a second.
"Top right of my dresser is my underwear drawer. Go upstairs, and switch out your underwear for a pair of mine. Lacy ones."
There was a short silence before a practically feral smirk came across his face. "Well, I can put a pair of yours on, but swapping might be something of a challenge..."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"Back in a jif. Try not to picture me naked in your room." There was a blur as he vamp-sped up the stairs. "My oh my, Bon-Bon." He shouted down. "There are some racy pieces in here. Were you planning on seducing me? If you were, I'd go for the purple ones." She was starting to wonder if it was possible to strain your eyes from rolling them so much.
A minute or so he came bounding back down the stairs, but as he went to casually saunter back to his chair, he paused to delve a hand down the back of his jeans.
"Damn, does all women's underwear have the preternatural ability to embed itself right in your ass crack or am I just lucky?"
She tried to suppress a snigger as he threw himself back in the chair.
"Which pair are you wearing?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?" A waggle of his eyebrows.
"I could always make you show me on the next dare."
"I wouldn't if I were you. Coverage was minimal at best when I put them on, and I think my ass has swallowed most of the fabric on the walk down here." He straightened in the chair and hooked a thumb under his waistband, flashing a glimpse of black lace. "Happy?"
Bonnie was almost crying with laughter. "Very. But it's gonna be hard to top that for your next Dare."
"Okay, I'll make a deal with you. For every Dare you do, I'll answer a Truth." She looked hesitant. "Or my next questions can let us get to know each other a whole lot better. Your choice."
"I'm sticking with Truth"
"What did you think about the last time you masturbated?"
She shot him a look that would normally be accompanied by an aneurysm.
"I am not answering that."
"I warned you we would be getting more personal. Why the reluctance? Is it kinky?" She stayed silent - In truth, it was because the last thing she had fantasised about was Damon. There wasn't much alternative inspiration in their prison world, and the guy oozed sex and walked around shirtless half the time. You would have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to find him attractive.
"Okay, I give in - gimme a Dare."
"Damn. Well I guess it's a step in the right direction, though wondering what gets your fire stoked is gonna bug me all night now. Okay... A dare... Got it. Your best cheer routine please."
"You aren't serious."
"Go Timberwolves!" A wink.
God, he was infuriating, but she reasoned this would be marginally less humiliating than the alternative.
"Fine. Move the coffee table, I need some space."
He got up, adjusting his new underwear a little (that Dare was the gift that kept on giving) before shifting the furniture out of the way. Bonnie just looked at him expectantly for a second, raising her arms when he didn't get the hint.
"Oh c'mon Bon, it's like 3 steps."
"I don't believe I stipulated a minimum distance."
He huffed an exaggerated sigh, went over and picked her up, placing her in the middle of the floor. Instead of returning to his armchair, he threw himself down on the sofa she had been using for a better view. She was glad she was wearing sweats - jeans would have restricted her movement too much. She ran through the routine in her head to make sure she remembered it all.
"You'd better get on with it. I can feel my school spirit deflating by the second."
She glared at him, but he just smirked at her. She took up her starting position, and zoned out - no way could she do this if she was consciously aware of him watching.
"Ready? O-KAY!"
She launched into it, surprised a little how well her muscles remembered the routine. She treated it like she had any Friday night football game, and gave it her all, including the shouts, momentarily forgetting where she was and who she was with. Towards the end, her skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and her breaths were coming quick and shallow. This particular routine had a big finish, and she ended on a split. Her audience of one burst into rapturous applause and enthusiastic cheering and whooping, and through her panting breaths, she laughed. The sight of Damon peppy and animated melted away any embarrassment she should have felt.
"That was so much fun. I forgot how much I enjoyed cheering."
He got up to retrieve her.
"Very inspiring. I have the sudden urge to go and do manly things or score a touchdown or something." Damon lifted her effortlessly, hooking his arm under her legs. "Ugh, you're all sweaty."
"I think you'll find it's not sweat, it's inspiration perspiration." She wiped a hand on the back of her neck and smeared her sweat on his face. "See?"
Clearly unfazed, he responded by leaning in and licking a broad stripe up her cheek before dumping her back on the sofa and taking up the seat next to her.
"Ew! Damon!"
"Don't write cheques your ass can't cash, Bennett."
"Speaking of which, I took your Dare, which I believe means you owe me a Truth."
"It does, doesn't it. So whatcha gonna ask?"
Bonnie thought for a moment. She wanted something good, but didn't want to scare him off of taking any future questions.
"If you could take back something you did, what would it be?"
"That's easy. Reading Twilight."
"If you aren't going to take this seriously, what's the point?"
"I'm serious as a heart attack. That's like, ten hours of my life I am never getting back. More if you count sitting through all the movies."
"Okay, this does not for one second mean I am accepting this as your answer, but... Why did you watch the movies if you hated the book?"
"Yet another reason for me to hate Care-Bear. Honestly, I have done some questionable things to get laid in my time, but sitting through 'and so the lion fell in love with the lamb' in both print and technicolour is by far the worst. Eurgh, I feel dirty just thinking about it." Bonnie laughed, then there was a beat of silence as they both took a drink. Damon was still looking at his when he spoke again, his voice quiet. "Attacking you."
"Huh?"
"Back when I first came to town looking to free Katherine, when Emily destroyed the amulet and I bit you." His eyes were still downcast. "That's what I'd take back."
Bonnie was stunned into silence for a moment. She was hoping for an answer that wasn't all bluster, but she would never have anticipated that his answer might be that.
"Why?" He threw her a slightly incredulous look. "I didn't mean it like that. I mean... Aren't there other things you'd rather take back? Going after Katherine in the first place? Killing Stefan's best friend? Compelling Caroline? Or any of a million other bad calls I don't even know about?"
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.
"I'm not a good guy, Bonnie. And you're right, I've made a hell of a lot of unfathomably stupid decisions in my time." He fidgeted with his hands as he spoke. "Lots of them worse than what I did to you. And they've almost all hurt someone: Either someone I care about, or someone whose name I can't remember, sometimes even me. But a lot of them I can't take back, because if I did, I wouldn't be who I am now. Where I am now. Take Katherine for example, if I hadn't followed her to the ends of the earth, I wouldn't have come back to Mystic Falls. Never would have met Elena, or you. I never would have made peace, or something like it, with my brother." He was right, Bonnie realised. He couldn't take back something that was a formative part of his life, no matter how catastrophic the fallout. "But hurting you? All it did was terrify you, cause you pain, make you hate me more than you already did. Maybe if I hadn't done it, we might have been friends. That, I can regret."
Bonnie's heart felt heavy all of a sudden.
"You are my friend." He looked up at her then, and the look was so honest, so bare of any bravado, that it threatened to knock the wind from her. She had never seen him like that. "It might have taken the end of the world to make it happen, but..."
She reached and took his hand in hers, and offered him a smile. It took a second for him to smile back, but when he did, there was a glint of mischief in it, and before she could question it, he yanked her arm and she squealed as he pulled her into a hug, before settling into the embrace. It had been a long time since anyone had held her, and she had forgotten how nice it felt. His breath brushed her neck as his head rested there, which elicited another reaction she hadn't been expecting: A soft 'hmm' of her own exhaled breath that had her relaxing into his arms.
"Y'know, this would probably be a really mushy sentimental moment if there wasn't a pair of your panties diving for treasure in my ass right now."
She sputtered a laugh. "Trust you to ruin the moment."
"Bad decisions are my strong suit, remember?" His lips brushed her skin as he spoke, and damn if it didn't make her whole body tingle in a way that made her want to make a very bad decision of her own.
It took more self restraint than she wanted to admit to pull away. When she did, the expression on his face was one she couldn't place.
"So, um, I think that makes it my turn." His expression didn't change. "Dare, I guess."
That unreadable expression lingered for a few seconds, before being replaced with his usual smirk.
"I want you to grab a jar of peanut butter and a spoon from the kitchen. Dip the spoon in, then seductively lick it clean."
Part of her wanted to protest, but at least it was a spoon and not licking it off of him.
"No problem." He looked vaguely surprised, but surprise turned to a frustrated eye roll when she raised her arms again. She shrieked as he slung her over his shoulders like a milkmaid's yoke, thankful her skin tone hid some of the furious blush that rose in her cheeks at one of his hands braced on the back of her thigh.
When they returned, Bonnie knelt on the sofa facing him, determined not to show any hint of uneasiness or embarrassment. She opened the jar and dipped the spoon in, making sure not to take too much. She swirled it so none would drip, made eye contact, and put the spoon in her mouth. As she closed her lips around it, her eyelids fluttered closed, and she made an exaggerated sound of pleasure at the taste. She felt the couch shift as if Damon fidgeted in his seat, but when she opened them, he remained visibly impassive. She pulled the spoon from her mouth, dragging her lips over it as she went, and flicked her tongue out and over it in a final flourish.
Damon's voice was a mocking falsetto: "Oh, Tyler, you taste so good."
"DAMON!" Bonnie threw the scatter cushion behind her at him as hard as she could, but he just laughed. "Oh I am so done playing nice."
"Bring it on, Bennett. Truth."
She pursed her lips for a moment as she thought of her question. "Tell me about the most embarrassing thing to happen to you during sex."
"Does it have to have been embarrassing for me?"
"Well I'm guessing getting caught with you is embarrassment enough for most people, so yeah."
He tipped his head back like he was trying to decide on one. "Okay got it. First of all, you know I've not only had sex with women, right?"
Bonnie tried to keep the blush rising up her neck from reaching her face. "You've hinted, but never outright told me."
"It's not something I particularly mind people knowing, it just doesn't tend to come up in conversation all that often because I prefer women. But what I don't think I've ever told anyone is that the first time... first few times... were while I was still human."
Bonnie couldn't hide her shock at that. The 1800's weren't exactly known for being progressive. "Really?"
A nod. "While I was serving. When we were decamped in more populated areas, we rarely spent a night alone - women threw themselves at a man in uniform. But out at the front lines? Not a whole lot of ports in a storm, if you get my meaning. Anyways, months without seeing a female face, thinking every day might be your last, yada yada... It was actually lot more common than you might think, but still grounds for dishonourable discharge or worse if you got caught. Anyways, I'd been sneaking around with a guy from my unit, Henry, for a while. We'd been through some stuff together when I needed a leave of absence to visit Stefan, so we were used to keeping each others' secrets. There was this new sergeant, he was inflicted on us after our last one ate a grenade. A real ball buster. Decided that putting bullets in people while trying not to get shot all day wasn't hard enough, and had us reorganising the camp after our day's rotations on the lines. Long story short, we were miserable and frustrated, and we all know the best cure for that." A waggle of his eyebrows meant even if she didn't before, she definitely did now. "So I pull Henry into one of the munitions tents a few minutes before lights out. Risk of getting caught and some serious pent up frustration mean this was not a candlelight and romance affair... Finesse completely out the window, we're just going at it. Hard. And, as it turns out, not very discretely. So once we've both gotten what we needed, we nonchalantly waltz out... Only to find ourselves face to face with said ball-busting sergeant and a good few of his friends with stripes. Turns out in the camp reorganisation, the munitions tent now backed onto the officers' sleeping quarters. And they had heard everything."
"Oh my god. What happened?"
"They beat us bloody - said we would get our marching orders the next day once the top brass put their stamp on it. I snuck out before first light and made my way home. Guess Henry had the same idea - I ran into him in Mystic falls a few months later. Katherine had turned him - she always did like pretty boys." He took a swig of bourbon, taking a moment to top up his glass. "And that, my friend, is the unabridged story of my desertion from the confederate army. I almost wish I'd taken the discharge - would've been worth the beating I'd have gotten just to see the look on daddy dearest's face when he heard."
"Wow. Certainly puts my story of Elena walking in on Jeremy and I into perspective. I guess that makes it my turn. I'm liking this soul-baring thing you've got going on, so I'll take another Dare."
Damon gave a feline smile, which Bonnie had come to realise meant 'be afraid'.
"For the next week, you have to dress solely in items from Kelly Donovan's closet."
Bonnie's mouth hung open. In the present, Matt's mom was known for dressing fairly provocatively, but a younger Kelly Donovan had it and was NOT afraid to flaunt it. She didn't own a single dress that she didn't have to be poured into, or that went past mid-thigh. She lived and died in daisy dukes, heels, and tops that barely kept things family friendly. Bonnie remembered as a kid not understanding the way other moms would sometimes slap their husbands when they were caught gawping at her. And Damon knew exactly what he was getting her into, as they had spent a drunken evening a couple of weeks ago going through the gang's family photo albums.
"Are you in any way open to negotiation on this one?".
"Nope." He popped the 'p' as he said it. Smug bastard. "Unless you want to forfeit, of course?"
"What would the forfeit be?" Bonnie asked warily.
"That's for me to know, and you to dot dot dot." He winked. "But you can't forfeit a forfeit, so whatever it is, you would have to take it."
Bonnie reasoned it was a fair assumption that he had something suitably objectionable in mind. Which she felt left her with only one option.
"Fine, I'll do it. But I get to wear my own shoes and underwear. And I expect you to keep all caveman ogling to a bare minimum."
He acted offended. "Me? As if I would do such a thing." When her only response was to glare at him, he raised his hands in mock surrender. "I swear I will be a perfect gentleman."
"Let's not set the bar too high - I know your limits. A promise not to look up my skirt when I sit down or stand up will do just fine."
"Deal. Hey, I think I like this game. Lucky for you I'm still feeling all confessional. Truth me."
Bonnie owed him big for that last one. "Okay. If you had a choice, right now, between fresh, hot, human blood straight from the vein, or sex - and I mean good, headboard banging, toe curling sex - what would it be?"
"Oh come on now, that's not a fair question. Unless you're offering up a vein, that is?"
"I'm not. And it's so not unfair, what's unfair about it?"
"Aside from the fact it is definitely cruel and unusual punishment to even mention the possibility? Separating the two is just plain wrong. Champagne and strawberries, movies and popcorn, blood and sex. You can't have one without the other."
"Maybe for you, but I'm not sure the women you compel to let you use them as sexy juice boxes would agree."
"Don't knock it til you've tried it, judgypants." She must have still looked pretty unconvinced. "As well as the nutritional qualities blood has for vampires, feeding fresh also has an aphrodisiac effect. And it is instantaneous." He clicked his fingers for emphasis. "So, playing your little game, if I were to choose blood from the vein, it feels like the equivalent of ten hours of foreplay with no pay off." Bonnie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She knew that feeling, or something close at least. Jeremy had often failed to get her off, and she would be left frustrated and climbing the walls. And that was after like 30 minutes max, including the sex. "If on the other hand I opt for sex without feeding... You know when you have a cold and you're eating but you can't smell or taste anything? It's something like that. Everything is kind of dull and bland, at least in comparison to what it can be. I mean, it's still sex, but it's sex lite."
Bonnie swallowed dryly. She knew he would probably mock her for this, but she had to ask.
"And for your partner?"
"If you're curious, I'd be very willing to demonstrate." She fixed him with a glare that she hoped said 'not even if hell freezes over' rather than conveying the curiosity she really felt. "Being bitten signals your brain into survival mode, releasing chemicals that enhance your senses. That, combined with the high you experience from the blood loss, makes things intense. Scrape-you-off-the-ceiling, you'll-swear-you-saw-God intense. And that's not just my ego speaking: Remember, I was on the receiving end of this as a human. And once a human has experienced the perks of a lover in the throes of that aphrodisiac effect, they won't go back. Ever. In fact, it's not uncommon for humans to become so obsessed with finding another vampire to be with that they get themselves killed in the process." Bonnie couldn't stop her face from betraying her shock. She couldn't imagine anything being so intense, so addictive, that you would risk your life for it. "So, you see why it's unfair to make me choose."
Bonnie crossed her legs at the unwelcome feeling of arousal that had come over her. Listening to Damon talk about sex should come with an age rating and a splash zone warning: First five rows WILL get wet. She was still determined to get an answer, though.
"Life's not fair, Damon. I want an answer."
He threw his arms up in mock indignation. "Were you not listening to a word I just said?" She kept her face impassive. "Okay... While I can practically feel my throat rubbing against itself like sandpaper at even the thought of turning down a hot meal, I would trade my left nut to get laid right now."
Bonnie was used to Damon's vulgarity by now, and she had an inkling that he would choose sex. She didn't know whether it was the confessional nature of the game or the alcohol she had drunk, but rather than gloat in her foreknowledge, she found herself commiserating.
"Oh thank god it's not just me." She was momentarily dumbstruck by him throwing his head back and laughing. "What? Only a man gets to miss sex? Sometimes the fact you're from the 1800s is painfully obvious."
He slowly regained his composure. "Oh it's not that. It's that your last lay - maybe your only lay, I don't know - was Little Gilbert. And I don't believe for one second he was anything worth pining over."
She would normally have jumped to Jeremy's defence, but this evening had left her feeling oddly confessional.
"Of course I miss him... I just happen to miss my vibrator more." She cracked a smile and they both laughed. "Seriously though, I am one bad day away from asking you to just lay on top of me for a while."
To her surprise, he didn't immediately jump to mocking her, instead sharing in her lament.
"It's messed up, but I think I actually miss the sounds I could wring out of a partner more than the act itself. I swear, if you want to rub one out, you'd better make sure I'm outta the house or vervain me in the cellar first. I will not be held responsible for my actions."
"Waaaay ahead of you, Count Fuckula. Why do you think I keep sending you to the grocery store?"
"First of all, no nicknaming - that's my thing. And second, are you shitting me? You mean to tell me that every time I've had to haul my ass halfway across town for a carton of juice or a loaf of bread, it's because you were feeling a little frisky?!"
"What? Your super hearing is a bitch to work around. And I'm on to you as well, by the way. No-one takes that many showers in a day."
"I'm not mad Bon, I'm actually sort of impressed by the ingenuity. But maybe throw the guy down the hall a bone next time and just lock your door instead."
Bonnie tried not to blush furiously at the thought and just gave him a half smile. "I might just do that."
Damon's lip quirked in another of those smiles that she knew meant trouble. "I do believe it's your turn, witchy."
"One more dare."
"I was so hoping you'd say that." Bonnie's stomach flipped a little wondering what the hell he had in mind. "I want you to - while maintaining eye contact - undo my shirt buttons with your mouth."
Her eyes shot to his to see if he was in any way joking. He wasn't.
"I can't do that."
"Why not?"
A million reasons, none of which she could think of right now.
"And if I forfeit, I won't be able to back out of whatever that is?"
"Nope."
She was silent for a moment as she weighed her options.
It must have been just a beat too long, as he spoke again.
"I'll give you another option: You can let me do it to you."
That was definitely not an option. Just the thought of feeling his moist breath on the skin of her chest, or if his lips grazed her stomach, all while his eyes stayed locked to hers... And if that weren't enough, he'd also have to kneel between her legs to do it, and there's no way he wouldn't be able to scent her arousal that close. And the forfeit was unknown - the forfeit could be worse.
"Fine. I mean, I'll do it."
"You sure? I figured you would wuss out of this one."
The challenge in his tone stiffened her resolve. With one swift movement (more graceful than she should have been capable of after drinking), she swung her leg over him and moved to straddle his lap, not daring to lower herself just in case he could feel how wet she was.
"Just goes to show you don't know me as well as you think."
"Apparently not."
She kept her eyes focused on his as she rested her hands against his chest and lowered her mouth to the first button. She worried it with her teeth, but wasn't able to get it undone. She felt rather than heard him laugh, but with her mouth occupied, she gave him a playful slap on the arm, trying not to laugh herself. She had a sudden flash of inspiration and used her tongue to hold the button in place while her teeth pulled the buttonhole over it and... Voilà! One down.
Once she learned the technique, it was much easier, and the challenge became keeping her mind on the task at hand and off of the hard body under her hands: A body that was being revealed inch by inch as she worked. When she reached a certain point, it became easier to slip down to kneel between his legs to do the rest. She kept an even distance, though it had been very tempting to slide down against his body to try and get a reaction out of him. The problem was, that came with an uninvited (but not unwelcome) mental image of Damon's hand twisting in her hair as he pushed her head down on his dick. She wondered briefly what sounds he might make if she went down on him, before a concern flashed in her head that he still had her locked in his gaze, and that it might be plainly written on her face exactly what she was thinking about. His face, infuriatingly, gave away nothing, so she schooled her own into neutrality as she did the last couple of buttons. She pulled back with a triumphant look on her face, putting her hands either side of him to push herself back up, but while she tried her best to avoid looking at the newly bared expanse of flawless skin, and the sinfully tempting treasure trail she knew ran from his navel to disappear beneath his waistline, she dared a look... And immediately burst into a fit of giggles. Jutting just above his waistline was a thin band of black lace. She had completely forgotten he was wearing her panties. Evidently, he hadn't, because he finally let the poker face crack and started to laugh.
"Okay, well on that note, I think we're done. May I offer you a lift?" He was still sworn to carry her for the rest of the night.
She eventually got herself back to a state where she could speak. "Wait. Wait. One more."
"Fine, but make it quick. I can't wait to get out of these things. Truth."
"What was it you were afraid I would ask you that made you not want to pick Truth?"
His face turned from amusement to something darker she couldn't place. "Gonna plead the 5th on that one, Bon."
She was puzzled. "What?"
"I forfeit. What's my penalty?"
Bonnie wasn't sure what to say. She never thought he wouldn't answer. "Give me until I get upstairs to think about it." He went to lift her but she stopped him. "Nuh-uh. Turn around, I want a piggyback."
He rolled his eyes, but there was no venom in the gesture. "Whatever. Get on."
He carried her upstairs, and while the stunt he had pulled with the underwear had defused the situation a little, she still tried not to think about his hands on her thighs. He offered to take her to bed, but considering how heated things had gotten, she asked him to set her down at her door.
"So, what wicked idea have you come up with for my forfeit?"
"I want to pick our next game. For tomorrow night."
"Does this mean I have finally proved undeserving of being branded a cheater?"
"That remains to be seen. I guess we'll see tomorrow."
"And what will we be playing?"
She let a playful smile spread across her lips. She knew he wouldn't see this one coming.
"Strip poker."
To his credit, he kept his face mostly neutral, but his eyes betrayed his surprise. Good to know where his tells are.
"If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask. But I should warn you, I'm pretty good at poker."
"I'm better. Is that gonna be a problem?"
Bonnie had always been good at poker. She planned to fleece him completely. It was inevitable she would lose a hand or two, but she could own that.
In an instant, that insufferable smirk was back. "Not for me." He leaned in to whisper in her ear. "But I'm not the one who's gonna be dressed in Kelly Donovan's finest." He pulled away and fixed her with a triumphant look. "Sleep tight, Bon."
Bonnie let her eyes fall shut. Fuck, she had forgotten all about that. Still, she was sure she could cobble together something that still allowed her enough leeway to lose a couple items.
"Try not to moan too loudly when you dream about me." He shouted back down the corridor. She gave his retreating form the finger before closing the door.
Bonnie headed to the bathroom and readied herself for bed, a wicked thought entering her mind as she brushed her teeth. She fought to calm the butterflies in her stomach and finished her evening routine, before heading back to the door. She locked it with an audible 'click', and suppressed a smile at the mental image of Damon's ears pricking up down the hall. She walked slowly to her bed, trying to keep her pulse steady as she settled herself under the sheets. She took a steadying breath before running a first tentative caress over her chest, her skin tingling at the touch. For a second, she wondered if she should really be doing this - if it would be crossing a line - but her reservations melted away with the next pass of her hand. After the charged way this evening had gone, she needed the release. She loosed a sigh, which quietly disappeared into the dark. She called to mind the moments earlier that had stirred her arousal - his breath at her neck as they had embraced, the ways he had looked at her, the intensely sensual way he had talked about sex, and finally the image her mind had conjured of him breathless with pleasure as she wrapped her mouth around him. The room's hush was broken by her stuttered breath as her body started to respond in earnest.
No going back now - there's no way he didn't hear that.
Bonnie imagined she could feel him listening as her heartbeat quickened and her thighs clenched around the emptiness between them. Slowly, she ventured one hand down, brushing across the damp fabric at her apex. A first soft moan, carried on the silence, escaped her then as she pressed against the lace. She dragged her fingers against her folds, gently at first, but becoming more insistent with each pass. When her fingers did finally venture beneath the sodden material, she swore at the much needed contact, her back practically arching off the bed when she skimmed her clit. It didn't take long before there was a thin sheen of perspiration sticking the sheets to her skin, her heart was pounding, and her breaths were becoming heavier. Knowing that he was listening was a huge turn on, and she couldn't help but be more vocal than she normally would, letting moans and sighs and gasps spill from her unhindered. When she felt a telltale tightening in her core, she squeezed her thighs together around her hand until it almost ached, but the increase in friction was enough to push her over the edge. She cried out something barely comprehensible as she came, her orgasm pulsing through her whole body, more intense than any she had had in months, maybe longer. As she came down from her high, she whispered a quiet message for her unseen audience: "Mention this and you're a dead man. Well, dead-er. Sweet dreams."
Satiated, she slept better than she had since fate had swept her back in time.