"Can't get enough of me?"

The words were spoken on the back of her neck, causing goose bumps to prick along her arms. His hands were serpents, sneaking around her waist. She let out a soft gasp as his chin rested on her shoulder and fought against the urge to loll her head back and sink into him.

She crossed her arms. "Are you going to tell me your name this time?"

He circled around her like a vulture until his tall form stood in front of her. She wasn't used to his type of height. Damon only had an inch on her. Stefan the same. This guy on the other hand, had at least 5. She had to crane her head to see those deep cerulean eyes. He stroked her cheek with the back of his knuckles. His skin on hers always managed to ignite shivers. "Only if you promise to let me make you scream it."

"You're a pig."

"And you love it." He moved as if he was going to kiss her and she jerked away from him.

"I can't do this."

"Your boyfriend?" he asked, stepping to close the distance. "He never has to know."

Elena frowned. She'd made the mistake of mentioning Stefan in their first encounter, when she thought things were just innocent. Now she regretted ever muttering a word to him. "I'd know."

"And trust me, you'd never forget." He winked and smiled, showcasing a set of pearly teeth. His hands dug into the pocket of his black jeans. "What city is this?"

Her heart pounded in her chest. Mystic Falls. She wanted to utter those words but wouldn't allow them to slip through the cracks of her grit teeth. The vampire smiled and walked away from her, taking note of the shrubbery around them. His hand stroked the thin trunk of one of the trees and he tilted his head up to the canopy that surrounded them. "Well, I know for sure we're not in New York City. I haven't seen this much green since I looked at my bank statement."

They were far back behind the cabin that her parents would take her and Jeremy to over the summer. She'd often imagine that she was a botanist, discovering a new genus of plants that would cause immortality. Who knew that some people could actually live forever. All it took was a bite to the neck. "I've never been there," she found herself admitting.

He was in front of her again. "How old are you?"

Determined not to answer him, she repeated his question back to him. "How old are you?"

"Old enough to know when a girl is attracted to me." His touch froze her. Her breath hitched, and she averted her eyes away from him. "Blushing cheeks. Can't look me in the eyes. Warm skin. Racing pulse."

"You're wrong." She was just barely able to whisper the lie. .

"Prove it."

Slowly, he began to undo the buttons to her Santa Claus, flannel PJ top. It was the most unsexy thing she could find in her drawers, and she wore it purposefully. It'd been a gift from Caroline's mom, who, unlike her daughter, was not a fashionista. The tacky pajama set hadn't affected him at all.

Every time he undid a button, his fingers would just barely skirmish across the bare skin of her stomach. Elena found herself biting down onto her bottom lip to keep from gasping.

He slid the top from off her shoulders and pulled the matching shorts from her hips, forcing Elena to stand there before him in nothing but a royal purple bra and panties. Those blue eyes of his scanned down her breasts, to the curve of her hips, then slowly went back to her eyes.

"Thank you, Santa," he said, so close to her that they were sharing a breath.

In seconds she was lying against the ground, leaves and mud from yesterday's rain filthying her hair as he removed his shirt. What she wanted to do was race her hands over his chest. Pull his hair. But she didn't even know his name.

Kneeling between her legs, he raised one of her legs and planted a small peck of a kiss to her ankle. "Graze on my lips; and if those be dry," he whispered, kissing her knee, "stray lower where the pleasant fountain lies."

Instead of kissing her thigh, he nipped her there. Stefan's lips had never been that far south before. No one's had. One flick of his tongue at the part of her thigh just below the edge of her panties drove her wild. She moaned. Tightened in anticipation. Dug fingers into the Earth beneath her. "Don't stop," she found herself begging.

"Tell me your name."

It was a demand that Elena hadn't expected. "I can't."

"All I want is a name," he replied. She meant to respond but her breath was lost as his index finger made a slow, aching slide down the front of her panties.

"Fuck," she cried, back arching and hips instinctively rocking.

"Not until you give me a name," he replied, petting her once more.

Torment. Pure torment. Giving her name was a bad idea, but now she no longer cared. All she wanted was his touch.



The voice startled her, and her eyes fluttered open. She found herself in her room, still wearing her Santa pj's with the hands of her best friend Bonnie shaking her.

"Elena," Bonnie said again, face scrunched in worry. "It's midnight, now."

Elena sighed and found herself thankful that she'd been woken up.

Having had almost a dozen dreams of this guy in the span of a month, Elena thought it was time to recruit help. She'd asked Bonnie if she could wake her up at midnight these next few nights to interrupt any dream she may be having. Of course, Elena would have set an alarm to wake her up but it seemed that even that didn't pull her out of the dream. Bonnie, being the amazing chick that she was, didn't hesitate to offer a helping hand.

"You look pale. Are you okay?"

A chill forced her to wrap her arms around herself. "It depends on your definition of okay. If 'a vampire you've never met before haunts your dreams on a nightly basis' is your definition, then I'm fantastic."

Bonnie placed a comforting hand onto Elena's shoulder. "Did he tell you his name this time?"

"No. He's an ass. Won't tell me his name unless I tell him mine, and I'm not stupid enough to give it to him."

The green eyes of her best friend bore into her. Elena gulped, already knowing the question that was forming in her friends mind. Guiltily, she looked to her feet that were snug beneath her quilt. "Elena, what else happened in the dream?"

With the aid of a great witch came great questions. Questions that Elena didn't want to answer. It wasn't like she could just say to Bonnie, "Hey. So the dream guy was about to eat me out until you interrupted that."

"Nothing," she said.

"I'm your best friend. You can tell me anything."

"Seriously," Elena said. "Nothing happened. He asked me questions that I didn't answer. I asked him questions that he didn't answer."

Bonnie shrugged her shoulders and scratched her head. "Maybe it's just a dream, Elena. I've had some pretty weird dreams in my life. There was the time that I'd been eaten by a dragon; the time I dreamt that Whoopi Goldberg wanted to rape me. I still can't watch Sister Act because of that."

Though Elena was wearing a smile, nothing about her was cheerful. Nothing about this felt like a dream. Everything felt real. The scent of his skin. The way his body felt against hers. His lips. "You're right. I'm sure after all that's been happening, this is just my body's way of coping."

Bonnie smiled and gave her a tight hug. "You'll be fine. Let's try and go back to sleep now?"

Elena shook her head. "You sleep. I'm going to take a shower. Eat the rest of the lasagna. Watch some TV."

Bonnie didn't press the issue. She simply nodded her head. "We'll figure this out. Don't worry."

"I hope so," Elena muttered to herself. She didn't know how much longer she'd be able to resist this "dream guy."