Disclaimer: Twilight and Vampire Diaries belong to their respective owners.

Warning: This chapter fits into the 'T' Rating, but please read with caution. Young eyes should avert~


The floor underneath my feet pulsates with the vibrating rhythm of the loud "Turn me on" by David Guetta song. My sensitive eardrums no longer react to the piercing sound waves. Instead of flinching like my first night of working here, I welcome the stabs of pain as a reminder of being alive despite being dead. I smirk and wink appropriately as the ladies deliberately pass by the bar, making sure to put an extra sway into their hips, adjusting their tops to show more cleavage. They no longer generate interest. It's just another woman in another location, and maybe another bed if we go to her place, and it's only a few moments of exhilaration before I'm back at square one, and that's being numb. I used to find solace in them, but even that has been snatched from me.

"Hey, handsome," Rose greets me, snatching up a wet, clean beer mug to dry. "How're you holding up the fort?"

"I'm surrounded by some of New York's most gorgeous women. It's heaven," I tell her with a smirk.

She rolls her eyes and I know she sees through me, but we have a cool relationship going. I don't need to talk to her about anything, but she'll still know what I want to say. She lets me live in my delusional world where everything is fine, and my jaded mind is never brought up.

"Found your partner for tonight, yet?" she asks, smiling flirtatiously at a costumer to get that extra tip.

"Still looking," I respond.

The bar end gets busy as the club fills out more, and Rose and I are unable to talk further, but it's okay, because I know I'll end up at her apartment later on this week, confessing over drinks.

The club fills out more and more as the hours go past 9. Fridays are always the busiest. Carnal Desires is the kind of club just as the name suggests. Whether the customers come in for drinks to satisfy their desires for the night, or to forget about problems in their lives and just be someone else entirely, or whether they come in to find a partner for the night; it's New York Square's hottest place, and two years ago, I had thought I was a lucky son of a bitch to have gotten a job.

Betrayal after betrayal had lead me to quit University of Duke's extension School of Law program in Mystic Falls and move away to a city as different from the small town as could be; my first thought had been: New York City. Before the sunrise of next day, I had my bags packed, bank account wiped clean, and ready to begin a new life. I hadn't realized the nightmare would follow me through. I live in a gorgeous city, with an expensive apartment in a hotel where cooking, cleaning, everything is done by a maid, and a doorman opens both doors and elevators. I live the life everyone in this city wants, yet as soon as I'm out of eyesight of others, there's never a smile on my face.

I signal Rose to take care of the patrons standing by the bar awaiting their drinks, and head off towards the side, where a group of giggling women wait for compliments.

I approach them with a smirk, and their giggling increases. They're too easy. "Ladies," I agree them, keeping my eyes on theirs in turn; baby blue meeting green, brown, brown, blue.

"Damon," they all say simultaneously.

I lift each of their hands and press a gentle kiss to the back, allowing their sweet lotion smell to invade my senses. A humorless smile flits across my lips unintentionally when the smell has no effect on me. It's not even disappointing anymore; I've been robbed of that feeling, too.

"Come dance with us," the blonde in a skin-tight tiny red dress purrs, her hand lifting to play with the top button of my shirt. She steps closer to me, touching her body length to mine.

I glance back at Rose, and she give me the look that says "don't you dare," and I know better than to defy her. She'd throw anything that comes into her hand if I piss her off tonight, even if its full, heavy bottles of expensive whiskey. That wouldn't bode well for Charlie, nor me.

"I would, but if my boss saw me, he'd kill me," I reply, jutting out my bottom lip into a small pout.

They all sigh, and the brunette steps closer to my other side, her silky black dress shimmering with her moments, and she trails her index finger from side to side on my bottom lip. I wrap my arms around both women by my side.

Nothing. I feel nothing anymore.

"You've never cared about what he'd do to you before," the brunette says, her own lip pulling out into a pout, and she's right. I don't care what Charlie thinks. I'm the reason why there are so many women in this club right now, and that's the reason he pays for my expensive living.

"Damon," Rose calls out from behind me when she knows I'm ready to get back to my job.

"See you around." I wink at them, before stepping away and walking to where Rose is standing, the bar patrons having doubled.

I grab a towel, quickly wiping away a small amount of spilled alcohol, and start taking the orders immediately afterwards, staying busy for a good hour or more after that.

Rose sits on the silver ground table before the bottles of different types of alcohol, groaning. "I hate rushes."

"Be glad you're not alone."

"You don't have to worry. I'm a human, and you're not. You can work without feeling any pain, I swear."

"Pity I can't show my superpowers to these mortals," I joke.

She whips me with the towel against my thigh, before getting off of the table and heading to another customer. I manage to flick her black, spiked, pixie like hair before she's able to move too far from me.

I lean against the wall by the exit door, my heading gently thumping against the wall because of the loud music vibrating the entire place.

My eyes shut, and I am no longer startled by the images I see contorting to my worst nightmare behind my closed eyelids. From my father yelling about my non-existent incompetency, to Katherine leaving my at the alter because she wanted to go after her soon to be brother-in-law, to Stefan losing his trust in me…giving up on me.

A soothing, calm smell reaches my senses, the kind that I could remember smelling at the Mystic Falls beach when walking by the shore with my mother. For the first time, a visual of my mother holding my hand, while I jumped around the beach shore, squealing when the cold water hit my tiny feet comes behind my closed eyelids. For the first time, I don't see everything that's wrong, but something that was right in my past.

My eyes burst open, desperately trying to search out the object of my solace. I look from one woman to another, trying to find one that looks for someone I've never seen before, yet the one who'll be so familiar.

"Hey, Damon," Rose calls me over to her with a wave of her hand. "I need you to help my newly-made friend win a bet."

"Bet?" I ask her, before glancing up at the woman on the other side of the bar. I blink, and then blink again, and then shake my head to clear my mind of the fog that settles in for a few seconds. Long brown hair in curls is what I notice first; then my eyes move lower, to her brown, sparkly eyes surrounded with thin eyeliner, to her cute button nose, and then to her red-painted lips. She's wearing a blue silk tank top, tucked into a short skirt that starts at her waist and ends a few inches above her knees, the color of her top creating a nice hue against her pale skin. I imagine running my hands through the length of her body, my lips seeking the softness of her skin, and for the first time in a long time, I let myself hope that I'll be able to feel her, and that she'll bring my numb body to life.

I don't say anything, but I don't have to say anything, because her eyes pierce into me like they're looking right into my soul. I suddenly feel stripped, even with my defenses up, so I bring forth my hand to introduce myself before she can read too much into me.


She smiles sweetly at me, showing a straight line of pearly white teeth, before shaking my hand. "Bella."

"Nice to meet you, Bella. Enjoying your Friday night so far?" I ask, trying to be nice to the first female Rose has liked since forever.

"I am, actually. This is very different from my hometown," she replies, her eyes glazing over a little as if from nostalgia.

"Do you live here or are you on vacation?"

"I live in New York. We're just out here today to let loose."

I smirk. "Busy year?"

"Yup. Finished my Masters degree."


"English and Literature."

"What do you plan on doing with that degree?"

"I'm a Senior Editor for the New York Daily Post newpaper."

I realize after my eyebrows shoot up in surprise how this action might come across. "You've just graduated and you're already holding a Senior post?"

"What can I say? I don't like to boast," she says with a wink. I inwardly smile.

"What was this about a bet, now?"

Bella crosses her arms on the bar in front of her, leaning in close, her expression fitting into a mock guilt one, as if she's about to spill a big secret. "My friends over there," she points to a table by the stage where two other females are sitting, "don't think I can get you to do a body shot."

I smirk, my eyes not leaving hers. "Depends on who I'll be doing the body shot on."

She pretends to think for a moment, biting her bottom lip. "How about me?"

"Where do you want to do this, baby girl?"

She smile slyly again, and shrugs. I turn to Rose, who is smiling smugly at me, and ask her to cut up some lemon wedges. I put the salt shaker on the bar top, and get a few shots of Johnnie Walker Blue Label ready. The rush has left, and when I look at the clock, it's approaching nearly 11:30pm. There aren't many people, but the sight of me taking a shot off of a beautiful woman isn't rare to cause people to gawk. Only regulars stay this late, and they all know me.

She lays down on the bar top, but doesn't pull her shirt out of her skirt. Her cheeks are covered in a shy pink hue and she's biting her bottom lip in nervousness, but her eyes tell an entirely different story…mischief. She's not shy, she's seductive. She's just manipulating her body language to hide what her eyes tell me…they tell me that she's looking forward to this as much as I am looking forward to putting my lips on her sensitive skin.

I smirk at her, moving my hand to lightly caress her thigh, enjoying the quiver that passes through the length of her body. Her friends have moved closer and are watching with ruptured interest. I've never seen the Blondie or the Shorty before, and neither have I ever seen this brunette. They're new here, to the club, and most likely the city; otherwise, every person who has lived in New York City for over a month has once visited Carnal Desire. At least those are the statistics Charlie keeps giving us.

I press down my finger on her skin, my smile widening as the blood rushes to her skin. I trail down that finger with the same amount of pressure from her upper thigh towards the inside of her knee, allowing the red skin to mark my path, allowing her skin to get more sensitive when I get to the actual shot.

She lies there quietly, her eyes trained on my form without moving, and her legs part a little as my head lowers to trail a line of wet kisses down the reddened skin. Her lotion smells unlike any other I've ever smelt on a woman; it's not sweet or flowery, but cool and soothing, something that I welcome. I pull away too soon, because she whimpers, so low that only I can hear, and that sound makes my stomach flutter for some reason. The feeling is so unfamiliar that I'm caught off guard for a few seconds, closing my eyes. Apparently it's been more than just a few seconds because I can feel her soft, soft fingertips on my cheek. My eyes open, the feeling in my stomach is gone, and so are fingertips, but the warmth is still left on my cheek, proof that my delusional mind isn't setting me up for another disappointment.

My right hand grabs the salt shaker, pouring it over the wet trail on her thigh. She's expecting the whiskey shot glass in her mouth, but I tip it over at the last minute, surprising her with the coldness of the alcohol hitting her collarbone, gathering between the prominent bones, some spilling, making a circle around her neck. She's fast, though; she prevents her knee-jerk reaction and doesn't move.

I put a lemon wedge between her lips, and lick the whiskey that has spilled across her neck, making my way to her collarbone. With a kiss, I suck up the whiskey on her skin, and swallow it, and moving then towards her thigh. I lick up the salt, moving from near the inside of her knee to the top of her thigh, leaving little bites. My eyes lock with hers as I move slowly closer to her lips, keeping my head close to her, allowing my chin to touch the length of her body, from her thigh to her hips, to her waist, over her breast, and then to her lips. I curl my lips backwards to grab the lemon wedge, permitting just a tiny bit of contact between her lips and mine, enough to make her want more, yet not enough to satisfy her.

The sound of clapping and whistling pulls me out of my fixated trance, and I pull back, helping her down from the bar, before heading back behind it, where Rose stands with her arms over her chest and an eyebrow cocked.

"What?" I ask her, keeping the defensive tone out of my voice.

"Interesting," she says, drawing out the first syllable almost in a cartoon-character voice.

I say nothing, but clean up the mess, getting ready to leave as my shift ends. I try not to think about that soothing smell of ocean that had radiated off of Bella earlier, but it's useless, so I try harder. There's this electricity at the tip of my fingers, and I've spent so much time trying not to get my hopes up to feel something, that this sudden invasion of feeling over the numbness in my body startles me to the point of discomfort.

I feel eyes on me, and I turn to see Bella standing as her friends gather their stuff to leave. She gives me a smile, one that I can't return because my feelings are all over the place and I'm suddenly left feeling overwhelmed, exposed, and elated all at the same time. She eventually turns away from me, and the three make their way towards the door, and I try desperately to keep working instead of going after her. If she can make me feel like this within just a few minutes of knowing her, what can she do to me with more time?

I pause, as my mind goes back to Katherine and how I felt about her the first time I met her, the first time we went on a date, the first time two bodies became one, and the first time I knew I was in love with her.

I feel Rose staring a hole into the side of my face.

"You're so stupid," she mutters, loud enough for me to hear her.

I already know what she means, and I know what I want to do; that's all I needed, some encouragement. I drop everything in my hands, and rush towards the door, brushing past the bouncer in my hurry, and notice the empty parking lot save just a handful of cars, all empty.

I hang my head, and walk back inside to get away from the chilly wind, and as I approach the door, Klaus, the bouncer, hands me a piece of paper.

A smile spreads across my face as I read the name just before a number on the back of the payment receipt from the club.




This is a little out of my comfort zone, but it just happened, and I literally wrote this in just a few hours of one day. The plot wouldn't leave my mind, and I haven't had any motivation to work on 'My Guardian Angel'. So I figured I'd give you guys something else.

Leave me a review, please.