Damon sits down next to Eric, both with plates full of bacon and eggs. I silently eat my cereal while I sneak a glance. Damon is looking to his right, dazed in his own little world and slowly chewing a piece of bacon. He brings it up to his mouth, holding it there as he swallows his current bite. I watch his neck tighten and relax while the food travels down. His round lips part slightly as he takes another bite.

How does he make eating hot?

I abruptly get up and stalk off, pissed at how easy it is for him and how difficult it will be for me. I understand it's irrational to be mad at such a thing, but I am. Storming into my tent, I sit in the corner and think of what to do.

Rachel peeks her head inside the door, concern etched on her face. She walks towards me and crouches in front.

"I saw you rage off," she says, "I got worried, what's wrong?"

"I don't know..."

"You're an awful liar Scarlett."

"It's just so easy for him!" I blurt out unwillingly.

"Easy?" Rachel looks confused, but then a malicious grin spreads across her freckled cheeks, "you want to impress Damon don't you?"

"Impress isn't the word I was thinking off."

"Oh, so you mean you want to affect him? Make him crazy with desire?"

"No! You make me sound so creepy, Rachel!"

"Oh, you're totally creepy, but totally into Damon. I so told you, like weeks ago so told you." She laughs.

"You think you're hilarious don't you?"

"No, I think I'm right. And I also think I know just how to start off this trail of seduction." She winks at me while she stands.

Rachel walks over to her duffle-bag and rummages through it. A minute later, she picks up something and turns to face me, hiding the object behind her back.

"What do you have?" I ask.

"The perfect 'start'."

She pulls a skimpy black bikini out from behind her. It's triangle cups can barely be considered a top, and it's stringy bottoms look like it'd only come just above my hip bones. My mouth falls in astonishment; that is, astonishment that she thinks I'd actually put this on.

"No way," I state firmly.

"But you have to! It would be perfect!"

I roll my eyes, "I am not going out there in that."

"Oh yes you are, because I want to see the look on Damon's face more than I care about your comfort of wearing this."

She grabs a bottle of water off the small table between our beds, and walks over to my phone plugged into the extendable outlet. I sense her intentions and jump up. She holds the bottle, tilted slightly, over my phone. Freezing my actions, I look up at her.

"You wouldn't dare," I hiss.

"Bet."

A smirk plays across her face as she begins to tilt the bottle further, a little water dripping out and falling besides my phone.

"Okay, okay! I'll wear it!"

"Spectacular!" She yells, throwing the excuses-for-garments at me.

I catch them and huff at her as I commence putting on the embarrassing apparel.

After what seems like an hour of pacing, deciding whether or not this game of mine is worth my dignity, I step out. Rachel is patiently waiting outside the door, and even her eyes widen.

"You know Scarlett, if you became an escort, you'd be an expensive one."

"Well jeez, thanks."

"That's a compliment! You look simply delicious."

I look down at myself: the tiny top covers the lower half of my chest, exposing a lot of cleavage, and the string-tied bottoms barely cover my ass.

"It's way too revealing."

"That's the point!"

I stare blankly at her, not amused.

"Trust me, if you want to catch Damon's attention head on, this will work."

I shift uncomfortably, "I don't know how I feel about this."

"Too bad, you're doing it."

Rachel grabs my arm and yanks me over towards the gazebo. Everybody is already down at the lake, except for Damon and Eric who are finishing up their late breakfast. Rachel stops dragging me, about 15 feet away, and rests her hands on my shoulders, staring intently at me.

"Now, call out to Eric and ask if he wants to go swim."

She takes a few steps back besides me, and nods towards the guys. I take a deep breath and relax myself. I'm only in a bikini right? How shocking can this be? Feeling a bit more confident, I yell out.

"Eric! You ready to swim yet?"

They both turn around in their seats to find where the question came from. Damon sees me. His mouth goes slack.

And he chokes. Literally.

He drops the piece of bacon in his hand and starts coughing. Eric slaps him on the back a few times to help him. I walk up in time to hear their conversation.

"Dude, what happened? Are you dying?" Eric asks through laughs.

"No," Damon sputters, "just forgot how to swallow."

I bend down to look at him, genuinely concerned. His eyes widen further followed by a sharp intake of breathe.

"Scarlett, could you please stand up straight?" He asks, pausing between the words.

His eyes start to travel as I slowly straighten myself. Then, the most unexpected and mind blowing thing happens: Damon blushes. I can sense that he knows he's blushing, because he sharply turns his head back in front of him. Eric, unobservant, doesn't catch Damon's reaction and just looks down the hill at the lake.

"You feel like swimming Damon?"

"Sure," he squeaks out but quickly clears his throat, "Sure."

I stand there, amazed that a simple change in wardrobe could affect Damon like this. I smile widely and skip over to where Rachel is standing. She sticks out her hand; confused, I shake it.

"Why are you shaking my hand?" I ask.

"Well, it's not everyday I get to bask in the glory of a sex goddess. Did you see his face? And he choked, he actually choked!"

I laugh, trying to play it off cool, when, in reality, I was just as shocked as her. We start walking down the hill, looking back quickly along the way. Eric is throwing away his plate with Damon following. However, Damon's eyes are trailing me, not paying attention.

WHAM. He walks smack into the gazebo's pole. He staggers back a bit, rubbing his head. Rachel and I break into a fit of laughter, and we focus back onto the water. I never knew being the tempter could be so exhilarating.

* * * * * * * * * * *

After an hour or so, we leave the lake because some generous soul bought everybody popsicles. Damon had been keeping his distance from me the whole time, and I was beginning to think he completely lost interest. Rachel and I walk up the hill to the gazebo to grab our snack, then I leave to go sit down under the trees near our tent, wanting to get some time alone.

I lick my blue popsicle and stare up at the sky. My icy treat matches it, and I hold it between the clouds, trying to make it blend in. Looking to my right, I see two squirrels scamper after each other, then climb high up a tree, never stopping their chase. I laugh under my breathe.

"What's so funny?"

I yelp in surprise and spin my head to the left to see Damon leaning up against a tree next to mine. I let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, it's only you," I breathe.

He just stares blankly at me, his white v-neck hanging loosely to the side.

"Soo...," I awkwardly trail off, not knowing what to say.

"What the hell are you wearing?" His voice is low.

"Oh, this? It's just one of Rachel's old bikinis."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you wearing it?" He asks coolly.

I'm about to answer with some lame excuse, when I feel a sharp splash of cold against my chest. I look down to find that my unattended popsicle is melting. The blue drip starts to make a path down my chest and in-between my breasts. As I'm trying to wipe it away, another drop falls onto my leg, slowly making its way down my inner thigh. I'm about to wipe it off when I hear loud twigs cracking. I look up to see Damon standing stiffly, fists clenched. He groans silently as he turns to face the tree, placing one arm on it and head on that arm.

An evil half smile plays across my lips: round two of my game.

"What's wrong, Damon?" I ask sweetly.

He immediately composes himself and nonchalantly replies.

"Nothing at all, clutz."

"That's good. Man, it's so hot, don't you think?"

I pull up the leg with the drop, bending it at the knee with my foot still on the ground. Bringing the popsicle to my mouth, I languidly lick the side.

Damon is on me before I can even look up: one hand clenching my wrist with the popsicle, and the other holding my face in place by my jaw. He stares intently at my lips, eyes blazing. I can feel the remainder of my previous lick trailing down from the corner of my mouth to my chin. Damon's eyes follow the trail.

And then his tongue does.

I gasp, shocked, as he calmly drags his warm tongue up from my jaw to the corner of my mouth. His hot breathe hits me as he hovers his lips over mine. Then, he unexpectedly drops his head to my leg.

"Damon, what--?"

I cut myself off because I feel his tongue hit low on my inner thigh. He let's go off my wrist to grab my leg. My shaking hand drops the now almost melted popsicle. I've never once had a guy touch, let alone lick, that far up my thigh. Damon continues his pacing torture up my leg to my knee, successfully ridding me of all blue drips. I sit, rooted to the ground, not knowing what to do. When did I lose control of my game? He brings his head back up to mine, then to my ear.

"Quit toying with me, Scarlett," he whispers sharply.

Damon stands, lips tight and eyes hooded. His messy hair falls over his forehead, casting a shadow against his face. Out of no where, he pulls off his shirt and throws it at me.

"Put it on."

I do what he says as he continues.

"As to our previous conversation, you're not allowed to wear that suit in public anymore. I'm the only one who can see it, got it?"

That hits a trigger, "You can't tell me what I can and cannot do."

He steps forward, backing me against the rough bark. He comes in close; I feel his lips brush against my ear.

"Bet."