He's trapped me in his sights.
Waiting to consume me.
He wants to awaken the darkness inside me.
Possess it and own me.
Damon West is bad news.
He might appear charming on the outside.
But that's only a mask he wears to hide the true predator inside...
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Holy hell.
Thinking about what Damon did to me at the party has my panties shamelessly dampen with my arousal, and I've been thinking about it a lot.
Every damn day to be exact.
I may have let my fingers roam over my body late at night to imitate the feeling. It doesn't come close. I can't bring myself to an ending that feels nearly the same.
First, the way his fingers expertly brought me to orgasm in the car, then his magical tongue at the party. I just can't. I want to feel that feeling over and over again.
But I shouldn't.
I know he wants something from me, and once he gets it, he will be gone in the wind. I don't want things to go that far. I'm barely hanging on to my life the way it is. I don't need him to make it any worse by vanishing on me.
He told me I have his interest, but for how long?
It won't be long enough.
I still think he's an arrogant prick, but I can't help but imagine more scenarios involving our bodies.
My plan to keep him thinking Ezra was my boyfriend backfired when he had me alone in that pool house. I didn't want to lie then, but I also wanted him to know I did not belong to him either.
Annabelle had disappeared from the party, and when I texted her to ask where she was, she said she wasn't feeling well and had taken a cab home. Something is up with her and Storm, but I just don't know what. It seems like she's scared of him; she runs away whenever he's around.
I pretty much ran out of the party like my ass was on fire after Damon had finished casting his black magic over me. I couldn't face him after what we had done. Or more like what he had done to me. He makes me feel like I've been thrown into a pit of flames with no fate but to burn. The dangerous thing is I'm drawn to the fire, ready to burn up into flames.
Uncle Nate still hasn't come back. I've been alone in this house for too long. He texts me to see how I am every day, and thankfully, he hasn't brought up Damon. I honestly don't know what I would say.
I've spent my time roaming every single room in this house. The media room is my favorite. I can curl up on the couch and watch romantic chick flicks. My mom and I used to watch them together all the time when she would finish work.
My heart constantly aches, but I watch her favorite movie, The Notebook.
Over and over again.
She was always a hopeless romantic, which rubbed off on me. The thought of her brings tears to the corners of my eyes. I did this. I destroyed everything.
I rub my fingers slowly over my scar, feeling the jagged edges. The scar represents the missing part of me; it's a reminder that my mind is blank.
