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Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Romance/Love · #1462568
Will the past separate Damon and Clare or only bring them closer?
She couldn't stop staring at his lips. God, they looked so soft and full, so kissable. Her eyes dropped lower to fall on a broad expanse of muscled torso. Hairs curled across the top of his chest, beckoning her itchy fingers to run over every exposed inch. But then, his smooth flat stomach begged for attention as well, with sculpted muscles and tiny black hairs leading from just above his jeans to mysteries unknown. Only when she reached a slightly larger bulge below his abdomen did she realize she may have been paying too much attention to things that shouldn't be so blatantly scrutinized. Embarrassed, she lifted her eyes to his only to find two bright green eyes looking straight into hers. Rather than embarrassment, however, she was surprised to see desire. His eyes mirrored her body's reaction as liquid heat poured through her veins and reached her midsection in record time. Never had such yearning consumed her, nor did she know what for even. How astounding that only a mere glance at this man could make her blood boil. What magic was this?

"Why are you gaping at me?" she asked, irritated and confused.

"Gaping, am I? Just what do you think you were doing, thinking about a picnic?" he responded, sarcasm dripping from every word. Her head snapped up. "Oh, don't act so innocent, Clare!"

"How dare you presume to know anything about me!" she cried, anger flaring behind her eyes. "It's been years since you last saw me and I have changed. You don't know anything!" She stalked off toward the forest, determined to have the last word.

"Hey, wait up, princess," he called, jogging to catch up with her. He touched her shoulder and she stiffened. "Look, you don't have to be so touchy. I wasn't judging you, but you can't tell me that in all the time we've been apart you've never been with a man long enough to know how men react when you look at them the way you looked at me. She turned to look at him, searching his face.

"And in what way was that?" she questioned, an innocence in her voice that couldn't have been faked. Clear blue eyes looked into his showing nothing but a mild curiosity.

"My god, you really don't know, do you?" he asked. His eyes became intense, his brows creased as if perplexed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"OK, let's try a little experiment. Promise you'll be open-minded?" She smiled, as a small blush touched her cheeks.

"I'm accompanying a half-naked man to an abandoned mansion halfway across the country to find a box of jewels that may or may not even exist. How much more open-minded could I be?" Looking him in the eyes once more, she felt drawn to him and it was damn irritating.

"Well," he grinned, "I suppose we shall have to find out."

Her eyes lit up,"A challenge, is it?" His expression said nothing. He stepped a bit closer. "Close your eyes," he said, making it sound more like a demand than a request. Seeing there was no backing down, there was obviously only one thing left to do. Clare closed her eyes. She wouldn't even admit to herself that she was curious to see what he was about. Damon was too much by far.

Damon watched as Clare closed her eyes, small wisps of her black hair blew lightly around her pale face. She really was a beautiful girl, correction, woman. Perhaps she had been a girl when he'd seen her last, but this devastating creature before him was all woman, from her delicate white ankles to her rosy and often irritating mouth. It was a lovely mouth at that. Though Damon knew he was playing a dangerous game with Clare, he also knew he'd been dying to kiss her since he'd first seen her. This was his first opportunity and Miss Clare needed to be taught a valuable lesson. Looking at a man the way she'd looked at him had done something to his insides--he'd felt as if he was burning. Hell, if it'd been somebody else, she might have had something to be worried about. Just the thought of her looking at somebody else like that had him raging inside. He really had to teach her a lesson. And he'd start right now.

Clare could feel him standing in front of her, could feel his eyes on her face. For some reason, standing this close to him made her feel a little warm and heady, like the time when she'd stayed with her aunt and they stayed up half the night talking and drinking wine. Only she'd drunk a little too much and her aunt made her promise not to tell. She admitted, at least to herself, that this felt a little nicer than that, though. She could hear Damon's deep steady breathing, could feel him lean closer to her.

Her heart began to pound a little harder and a little faster as she felt his warm lips touch hers, tentatively at first, then more firmly. Tiny ripples of pleasure shot through her body as she felt his tongue slip into her mouth. She leaned into his body and reached her arms up to grasp his shoulders to steady herself. My god, she never knew that kissing could be so...pleasant. She felt herself begin to return his kiss and his arm reached around to grab her hair. The kiss grew deeper and more turbulent. Her senses were being assaulted as they never had before. This kiss was wild and reckless, unlike any of the clean sensible pecks other men had visited upon her, much like the men themselves, actually. Then, as gently as it began, it was swiftly over. For some reason, she was surprised by this tide of emotion over a kiss from a man who had abandoned her so long ago. She'd thought she'd moved on when he had. She was bowled over. Her eyes opened and found his. His slowly removed his hand from her hair and she noticed he looked as shell-shocked as she did. Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought surely Damon must hear it. Despite that, however, she wasn't ready to explore those feelings.

@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@

Damon struggled to think straight. He had planned on teaching her a lesson, but he hadn't expected such an overwhelming response from her. When she'd leaned deeper into his kiss, he couldn't help but to accept what she offered. His heart pounded faster than normal and, even though the kiss had ended, he hungered for more. But these feelings of hunger warred with a tiny prick of guilt. It felt unnatural to want her, as if he were breaking some rule of his own making.

When he left his childhood home years ago, to take care of family interests, Clare was practically a child. Not that he'd been so much older than her at 18, but she had possessed an innocence and a lack of pettiness and pretension that the other girls seemed to be born with, which had made her seem younger than she was in reality. While the quality had made her a target of malice from other girls as a child, he had found it charming and, upon first meeting her, made it his duty to protect her as much as he could. They had been great buddies then, partners in crime, until he'd had to leave. Without an opportunity for farewells, and without knowing if he'd ever return, he had left. He had thought of her often during his travels, but had expected she'd grown up, gotten married, and had children by now.
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