Word of warning… technically, this piece is out of time.  If I followed the story’s timeline, we’d be roughly in April.  But, well, just work with it.  I wanted him to give her a Valentine.  It sounded fun.

Also, this is just for fun–I wrote it in about fifteen minutes and read it through, but I didn’t send it to beta readers or anything so there probably are typos.  That’s fine. Pretty please, don’t feel the need to point them out.  Again, this was just for fun.

~*~

Damon’s Valentine- Damon POV

“What are these?”

I looked at the flowers, feeling more than a little stupid as Kit stared at them.  Her pretty green eyes were confused.  Scowling, I shoved them into her hands.  “They’re called flowers.”

“I know that.”  She stroked a finger down the petal of one, her frown fading away.  But she didn’t smile.

I’d wanted to see her smile.

She didn’t do it enough.  Not anymore.  Not since—

Rage was a living, breathing thing in me and I had to wrap a stranglehold around it, shove into a box and smash it down.  Don’t.  If you go there, she’s gonna see.  Calm the fuck down.  “I had to go into Orlando.  There were all these cards and shit.  It’s Valentine’s Day.  I just thought…”

Now she looked up, her gaze meeting mine.

“Valentine’s Day.”  Now she smiled, but it was a weird one.  She took a step toward me.  My heart started to beat faster.  My dick twitched—it’s like a reflex.  Sometimes she just looks at me and it happens.  “You ever hear any of the real history behind it?”

“No.”  I didn’t care.  She’d smiled.  Even if it was over something weird, she’d smiled.  Lifting my hand, I rested it on the curve of her neck.  I felt the ridges hidden under the ink—poisoned flowers, a broken blade.  Stroking my thumb along the hollow of her throat, I waited.  Her faint smile widened into a dark, slightly twisted grin and I wanted to cover that wide, wicked mouth.  Taste her. Strip her.

“Valentine was some kind of priest.”

That had the fantasy I’d been spinning stalling—it didn’t fade.  It just slowed down.  “Valentine—he was a real guy?”

“Yeah.  It’s human stuff so I don’t know much about him, but they threw him in jail.  He was performing marriages or something, if I remember right.  Then they killed him.”  She lowered her head, studied the flowers.  “Trust humans to make up some sort weird holiday over a guy being jailed, then killed.”

She’d gone still, in that way she did when she started to remember.  Fuck.  I’d gone and reminded her.  Not that she needed a reminder.  She lived it.  Bore the scars.  Slowly, I reached down and took the roses.  “Maybe it’s not over him being jailed…but why.  It was for love.  He believed in it, right?”

As I put the flowers down, she looked up at me.  “Wow, Damon.  That’s almost…romantic.  Here you are, giving me flowers, spouting romantic thoughts.”

I tugged her against me.  The feel of her did bad, bad things.  Thought wanted to stop.  I wanted her naked.  Wanted bare skin under my hands.  Wanted her wet and hot as I fucked her.

I cupped her face.  “Maybe I just want you in a good mood.”  I pressed my mouth to hers.  “I probably want something.”

“What?” she asked, her voice wry, although it was going husky. “Let me guess…it involves me naked.”

“I pretty much always want you naked, baby girl.”  I brushed my mouth over hers, felt a growl building in me as she shuddered.

“Maybe we can arrange that.”  She slid her hands down my chest.  My cock jerked like she’d reached inside my pants instead.  She tipped her head, smiling at me once more. “I feel bad.  You bought me a present. I don’t have anything for you.”

“Get naked. That will work.”  I wasn’t about to tell her that all I needed was to see her smile.  Especially not when she was already reaching for the hem of her shirt.   Yeah, I wanted to see her smile…but smiling and naked was even better.