Shea Butter Baby// D.S

5

Chapter 5: Hot and Bothered

       Elena was clearly unhappy, her mahogany gaze piercing daggers into the long-legged female. Her straight hair was long and shook with every move of her head. "Don't you have any class?"

       "Don't you have any manners?" Nala retorts, her body covered in the long onyx shirt Damon earlier discarded, she didn't even bother with her underwear because as soon as they left she had every intention of finishing that they'd started. "Your parents didn't teach you how to knock before entering?"

        "My parents haven't been doing much parenting since they're dead."

       "Boo hoo," Her hands raised to mockingly cry, her lips turning down into a taunting pout. "Mine are dead too and you don't see me whining about it."

       Elena exhaled a frustrated breath, her gaze shifting from Nala to Damon, he wasn't even paying attention to her, he was licking his stupid lips.

Not even a day ago was Damon completely infatuated with all things Elena and now he couldn't even remember that the whole point of him going to the bonfire was to distract Rebekah—which he definitely didn't end up doing. "You," She pointed a finger at the eldest Salvatore, finally capturing the attention of his blue gaze. "—where we're you?"

"Well, clearly I was—"

"Obviously," Elena snaps, not noticing how Stefan was observing how she scolded his brother. Stefan was aware that him being gone all summed with Klaus brought them closer, but the chemistry between the two was undeniable—well, to him at least. "I mean where were you when we needed you to hold up your part of the plan."

"The plan where you vervained me and almost got me burned alive by a ghost."

Nala's brows raised at Stefan's proclamation, her amber eyes sharing a look with the annoyingly beautiful man who's face had been gloriously buried in between her thighs twenty-minutes prior. "I'm going to go home, this is not my problem."

Damon raised a hand in gentle objection, his tone still light even though the girl with the face he'd fallen in love with was yelling at him. "Just wait upstairs for me, we're finishing what we started."

Picking up her pants and shrugging on her shoes she pecked his cheek and send a smug smile in Elena's direction. "If you want it bad enough, you'll find me."

"Are you serious?" Elena was furious, disgusted in the way Damon was clearly distracted, and his only obligation seemed to be walking out the front door.

"What did you expect out of me, Elena?" His hands were raised in the air, shoulders lax and seemingly unbothered. Honestly, Damon was more focused on the fact that he wasn't able to get his nut off rather than the fact that he didn't distract Rebekah.

There was a superficial burn on the doppelgängers left cheek, one that was already glossed over with whatever ointment she'd earlier put on it. "I expected to be able to count on you."

For a moment, he was torn, ripped in two at the possibility of loving this girl and the feelings being reciprocated—or Nala, a spicy new option who was a breath of fresh air. She was beauty, grace and confidence all in one quip, one taste of her and Damon was hooked like a drug. He felt giddy like a teenager, hands itching to find their way back to her skin.

Coming back to reality, all Damon saw was Elena and his brother at the front door, the teenage girl pouring her heart out to the man she claimed to love. He eavesdropped just a little, lips drawn tightly together as his brother did what he did best—created bigger problems for himself. "Elena, do you have any idea how pathetic that makes you?"

"No, Stefan," Acting on impulse, a significant amount of anger and a smidgen of jealously, three stakes drove themselves into Stefan's abdomen. "It makes me strong."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Shut up, Damon." Groans were heard down the hall, blood dripping like a fountain on the wood floors.

Sauntering over, the another glass in his hand was given to his brother, his feet still bare from his previous endeavors but careful not to step in the mess. "Actually, brother, if I remember correctly my mouth was happily occupied before you and Saint Ann barged in."

All three stakes were discarded carelessly beside him, the clear distaste of having one of his shirts ruined, evident on the younger Salvatore's face. "Speaking of which," Gesturing to his chest provocatively despite his injuries, he then made a face of approval.

"Keep your sticky little hands out of my cookie jar, Stefan."

"Don't leave your cookies laying out then, Damon." The harmless teasing was a pleasant ice breaker for the brothers, neither of them seeming to get along ever since Klaus had compelled Stefan to create his hybrids and turned off his switch—but right now, it seemed okay.

Wrapping a five finger grip about his whiskey bottle, the other holding his signature glass, Damon only sent his brother a half-smile, his lips still smelling richly of a pretty girls pussy—in essence he felt like a goddamn king and Stefan's words wouldn't change that. "Finders, keepers, brother. Besides, did you see that girl? Way out of your league."

"Come on, Damon. We both know the usually ladies enjoy both of us."

Rolling his eyes as he entered his room, Damon scoffed. Bonding moment ruined. "Not this one."

And he meant it, with his sheets still thick with the smell of her conditioner and her shirt still in a wrinkled mess on his floor, Damon vowed that if he couldn't have her, no one could.

.

.

.

Back in her own home and a sinister smirk on her gorgeous face, Nala reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the potion she'd kept hidden inside, the small pink candle sealed vial shimmering as she raised it to the light. With intention set deeply inside, she shook it a little.

Thinking of the handsome mans face, she hummed around her house in his shirt, her voice soon belting the lyrics aloud.

"—I've put a spell on you, and now you're mine."