He wanted her from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Charming was just making the wager with him when he saw her across the bar, and he knew she was the one, the ultimate challenge.
Her gorgeous face and large green eyes were framed by curly locks of golden hair, and he noticed when she smiled at the bartender that dimples formed in her cheeks. She wasn't some young floozy gathered around in a group, eyes shining and panties dropping at the faintest hint of interest from one of the men in uniform.
No, there was something hard in her expression despite her smile. A closed-off wall of mystery that he desperately wanted to climb, just to see what was on the other side.
"Alright, Hook. Here's the deal. Fifty dollars, and you must have carnal knowledge - of a woman this time -" he said with a cheeky expression, "...on the premises."
Hook raised his eyebrows and shook his head at his best mate, clapping him on the shoulder. "Well, it's certainly not fair for you, but I think I might know how to make it up to you," he said, biting his lower lip.
"How's that?" Charming asked.
He looked over to where the blonde sat. "She's lost that lovin' feeling, mate."
"Oh, no, no, no. No she hasn't." Charming shook his head.
But Hook knew his protests were weak at best.
"I'm afraid she has. Look at her," he said, already leading the way towards the stage to grab a mic.
Charming sagged his head in defeat as he trailed after him. "I hate it when she does that."
The boys made their way over to her at the bar, a wide grin on Hook's face at Charming's apparent annoyance.
Tapping her on the shoulder, he masked his expression into something official looking.
"Excuse me, miss?"
Charming cut in. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't worry, I'll take care of this," he told her.
That was when Hook started to sing.
"You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…"
She smiled; they were off to a good start. He and Charming swayed back and forth, snapping their fingers as he gave her a cocky grin.
Charming continued. "There's no tenderness like before in your fingertips…"
He took the next line. "You're trying hard not to show it, baby…" By now, several more men in uniform were joining in on the song. "But baby, baby, believe me I knooow it. You've lost that lovin' feeling. Who-oa that lovin' feelin.' Bring back that lovin' feelin' now it's gone, gone, gone….whoa oh oh. Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba dum dum dum."
At this point, most of the men in the bar were singing along with them while she raised her eyebrows at them, both stunned and impressed. There was a split second when he didn't know if his tactic had worked, so he gave her his most dashing smile and hoped for the best as he put his hand to his heart and all but begged for an entrance.
She put her tongue in the corner of her mouth and considered him briefly before grabbing his hand and pulling him down into the barstool next to her. "Sit down," she said, and everyone broke out in a cheer.
Laughing, he shook Charming's hand before he departed, then he turned his attention towards his prize.
"I love that song," she said, shaking her head. She was even more beautiful close up, he noticed, her long dark eyelashes fluttering against high cheekbones.
"I've never seen that approach. How long have you two boys been doing this act?"
"Since, uhh..."
"Puberty?"
He ducked his head, scratching behind his ear. "Right, since puberty." He smirked at her.
She put out her hand. "I'm Emma Swan."
He took her hand in his, loving the skin-to-skin contact. "Killian Jones. But most people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker, Hook."
She raised her eyebrows at that. "Hook? As in...Captain Hook?"
He gave her his cockiest grin. "Oh, so you've heard of me?"
She rolled her eyes. "Why, should I have lieutenant? Aren't you supposed to be a sailor and not a pirate?"
He was impressed she knew his rank just from looking at the insignia on his uniform. He put on his dress whites especially for the occasion, as the ladies seemed to find it particularly appealing.
"Aye. But I'm a pirate of the skies, when the opportunity calls for it." He raised his eyes towards the ceiling.
Another eyebrow raise. This lass wasn't going to be easy, he could tell. He was quite enjoying himself.
"So, you're a pilot, then?"
"Naval aviator, aye."
"Ohhh…" she said with mock approval, batting her eyelashes at him. Something had changed in her eyes when he told her that - he could read her like an open book - and there was a hard glint now present where previously there had been a twinkle.
He decided on a change of tack. "No, actually, we've only done this...twice."
"Oh, how'd you do?"
"Crashed and burned on the first one, it wasn't pretty."
"And the second?"
"I dunno, I'll tell you tomorrow. But it's looking good so far," he punctuated with a wide grin.
"Well, Hook," she said, putting extra emphasis on his name. "It's been great talking to you, but my friend is here." She gestured over towards a booth, picking up her drink.
His face fell. "Swan, wait! Aren't you going to let me buy you a drink?" He put his hand on her arm.
The corners of her lips turned up slightly as she regarded him. "As you can see, lieutenant, I've already got one." She raised her glass at him in salute, and then she was gone, slipping through the crowd and through his fingers.
Damn. Even harder than he thought. He tried not to let it bruise his ego too much, but a drink or two might help to soothe the burn. Perhaps if he bided his time…
"Bartender. A glass of your finest rum, if you please."
Emma was having a hard time concentrating on her conversation. She kept glancing back towards the bar, wondering if the young lieutenant was still there nursing his wounds or if he had moved on to a more willing target.
She dealt with a new crop of cocky, self-assured pilots every eight weeks, but this one was different (even though she didn't want to admit it). Yes, he was absolutely gorgeous, there was no doubt about that. His dark hair and baby blue eyes had made quite the impression, and it wasn't every day you meet an American naval officer with a British accent. Just thinking of his smooth, deep voice sent shivers through her in all the right places.
But there was something about him - she couldn't quite put her finger on it - that made her nervous. Being blonde and attractive meant she was constantly having to rebuff the advances of sailors fresh from port while she was on base. He was willing to make a fool of himself just to talk to her, that she could appreciate. It wasn't that though, it was something about the way he looked at her, as if he could read her like an open book. It almost made her want to try, as if maybe he could understand her better than anyone she'd ever met before.
No. She wouldn't make that mistake again. Not after everything that had happened with Neal. She had decided long ago that she would never again let a pilot invade her heart or her bed. So far her strict policy had kept her safe, had kept her focused. She had a job to do here, and she couldn't risk her sanity or her career on what would most likely be a short-lived fling.
Sighing, she poked her straw into her drink.
"Emma?"
Whoops. Archie had been talking again, and he was expecting her to answer.
"Sorry, Archie. My brain is drifting. I have to be up early tomorrow, do you mind if we call it a night?"
Archie stacked the papers in front of him together and smiled at her.
"No problem at all. I'll have my secretary send you copies of all the documents we looked at tonight."
She smiled appreciatively at him as she began scooting out of the booth. "Thanks, buddy. I appreciate that." A quick stop at the ladies' room and she'd be on her way home.
Emma was in the midst of washing her hands when the door was pushed open and Hook waltzed into the bathroom. She wasn't sure if she was more relieved or nervous that the bathroom was empty save for herself.
Casting a sideways glance at him, she appreciated the swagger in his walk and the way his dress whites hugged his hips just right.
"Hook," she addressed him nonchalantly. "Must have been one long cruise, was it, sailor?"
"Too long," he said, leaning casually against the counter and hooking his thumb in his belt. The look on his face could only be described as salacious, his eyes glowing bright.
She turned towards him, and she couldn't help but notice that his shirt was now unbuttoned, revealing dark swirls of chest hair. As she raised her eyes to his face, she was caught in the intensity of his gaze, so startling it was almost like being under a spotlight. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat, but she tried to play it off casually.
"What do you want to do, just drop right down on the tile and go for it?" She gestured towards the floor.
That got a smile out of him. Not missing a beat, he responded, "No, actually I was thinking this counter would do." He gripped the counter and shook it as if to test its strength. "What do you say, lass, care to give it a go?" His question was punctuated by a devilish smirk, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to hit him or kiss him.
"Great, that would be very, very comfortable, yeah." She rolled her eyes at him, ignoring the traitorous twinge she felt between her thighs and the burn of her nipples as his eyes trailed down her shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"It could be," he said, raising a suggestive eyebrow. He had completely invaded her space now, and she could smell the subtle spice of his cologne mixed with something musky and masculine as he leaned over her. Eyeing her appreciatively as he smiled down at her, he revealed a dimple in his cheek that she had the sudden urge to touch. She was stupidly, incredibly drawn to him, and the air between them crackled with tension.
Turning away from him, she shook her head and attempted to reconcile the warring emotions she was feeling inside. She needed to nip this in the bud before it got out of hand.
"Actually," he continued, "I came in here to save you from making a big mistake with that...older gentleman." He pressed his lips together in mock disapproval, raising his eyebrows again.
"Really? So I can go on to an even bigger one with a young guy like yourself?" she asked, not even attempting to hide her disdain.
"Perhaps," he said, nodding his head and inching even closer.
Her eyes inadvertently went to his lips, which were almost red in color and parted softly as his face went from teasing to serious in the space of a heartbeat. She licked her lips, and his eyes were drawn to the movement. Oh, God. He was going to kiss her, and she was starting to think she might let him.
Jumping up from her perch on the counter, she put some much-needed distance between them.
"I've got to be at work very early in the morning," she said, making her way for the door.
"Come now, lass, you wouldn't make a man drink alone...?" she heard him ask, but she didn't stop to answer, pushing through the swinging door and walking as fast as her legs would carry her.
Making her way back through the bar, she noticed his blonde friend sitting nursing a beer, and she couldn't help but throw one last barb his way, quite certain at this point that the whole thing had been a bet.
"Your friend was magnificent," she called, tucking her hair behind her ears as she walked on by.
His friend's mouth dropped open, but she didn't stick around to see the fallout, satisfied that she came out on top of that little encounter.
The next morning Hook had a hangover, but was eager to begin his flight training. He ran a palm over his face, smirking at Charming, who looked even worse than he did. His mate was wearing a pained expression on his face while his sunglasses hid his eyes from the harsh morning light filtering into the hangar.
Their flight trainer, Moe "Gunner" French, was introducing the civilian contractor who was going to be instructing them on enemy aircraft. The older gentleman was leaning against the desk, a serious expression on his face as he looked over the students.
"One of our most qualified instructors is our TAGREP, callsign Swan. She has a PhD in Astrophysics, and you better listen to her because the Pentagon listens to her. She's also going to be evaluating you as we go along."
The back of Hook's neck tingled when he heard the name Swan, and he watched in trepidation as a pair of long stocking-clad legs strode past him to the desk at the front of class.
"It's all yours, Swan," Gunner said, stepping aside. She turned around then, and he was completely arrested (again) by a pair of green eyes and one of the most beautiful faces he'd ever seen. Shit.
Turning his head to the side to exchange a look with his mate, he pulled his sunglasses out of his chest pocket and slid them on just as Charming was taking his off, a look of complete and utter disbelief on his face. The girl from the bar was addressing the class of pilots, seemingly unaffected by their presence, and he wondered if he slid down far enough in his chair if he could disappear completely.
She was incredibly professional, he had to give her that. Sitting right in the front row, there was no way she had missed him. Which meant she probably knew he was going to be here. Right. That look in her eye when he told her he was a pilot.
PhD in Astrophysics, very impressive Ms. Swan. He liked her even more than he had when he thought she was just a pretty girl in a bar. Settling in his seat, he listened as she began her brief about their enemy's most advanced fighter jet, the MiG 28.
When she started to tell the class that the MiG's only flaw was that it wasn't capable of pushing past negative 1G in a dive, he was forced to cut in and reveal himself, damn the consequences.
"I beg your pardon, love, but I have to differ."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not your love, lieutenant. And I'd like to know why you felt the need to interrupt my briefing." Her arms crossed over her chest defensively. Ooh, such a tough lass.
Suddenly a tiny bit nervous, he cleared his throat. "I can tell you with great clarity that the MiG 28 is indeed capable of pushing negative 4Gs."
He could tell she was considering his statement (What was she? A human lie detector?) before she would engage him in this conversation, and he held eye contact with her until she relented.
"And just how would you know that?"
"Charming here and I," he gestured towards his copilot, "we flew with one in a negative 4G dive."
"Where was this?" she asked with a hard look.
Hook smiled, looking at Charming before he turned back to her. "I'm afraid that's classified. I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
Swan all but rolled her eyes at him, continuing to stare him down with a look of disdain.
"Lieutenant - Hook, is it? - I have Top Secret clearance. The Pentagon sees to it that I know more than you."
Hook raised his eyebrows at that. "Well, ma'am, it doesn't seem so in this case, does it?" He smiled mischievously at her, and her lips turned up in the barest of smiles. He was winning her over, he could tell.
"So, lieutenant, where exactly were you?"
He cleared his throat again, looking at Charming. "Well, I-"
Charming cut in. "You mean we."
"Right, we were over the Indian ocean. I came up on the MiG and was flying directly above him."
"Well, if you were directly above the MiG, then how could you see it?" she asked incredulously.
That's when he broke out in a full shit-eating grin.
"Because I was inverted," he said, crossing his arms to demonstrate.
He heard a cough cover a "bullshit" from another part of the classroom. Turning to look behind him, he saw Graham "Hunter" Humbert with his fist to his mouth. His mate Victor "Doc" Whale was slapping him on the arm.
"No, he was man, it was a really great move," Charming said, and he was glad of his friend's loyalty and support.
Swan looked at him with a mixture of disbelief and fascination. "You were in a negative 4G inverted dive with a MiG 28?"
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and he was pretty sure she was impressed now.
"So, you're the one?" she asked rhetorically, shaking her head and smiling softly. He held her gaze, and for a moment it felt like it was just the two of them.
At that point, Gunner interrupted them to let them know it was time for their training mission, and everyone got up and walked inside, heading towards the lockers. He was laughing with Charming when Swan caught up with them.
"Lieutenant!"
Smirking at his mate, who kept walking and left them alone, he turned and regarded her. "Yes, Swan?"
She smiled at him, and he could tell it pained her slightly. He was hoping to change that in the near future.
"I want to know more about the MiG."
He had her right where he wanted her, and he wasn't about to give up his advantage so soon.
Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "It's all in my file. You're welcome to read it."
Sighing in exasperation, she put her hands on her hips, causing him to glance at her skirt and notice the way it clung tightly to her shapely legs. Standing fiercely before him, she looked like she probably knew a few takedown moves, and he would be lying if he didn't admit he'd like to let her use them on him.
Without giving her a chance for a rebuttal, he turned and walked away. He could be patient. For her, he could be very patient.
Emma was frustrated. Whether it was intellectually or sexually, she couldn't be 100% sure, but being around men (always men) in uniform all day certainly didn't help. She couldn't get Hook and that little stunt he pulled - make that two stunts he pulled - out of her mind.
Sure, she could read through his file and get the story on the MiG 28, but she knew how bland and factual those write ups could be. She didn't want bland and factual. She wanted the full colorful story complete with all the details, hand gestures and yes - even the eyebrow waggles - she knew would come with it.
Her brain told her that was a dangerous thing to want, but her heart didn't seem to be listening. Or her libido. After the proposition he had made her in the ladies room, she wasn't sure if her desires could be tamped down for much longer, as she continued to daydream about what might have happened if she hadn't run off.
What was a little fling? a naughty little voice in the back of her mind told her. He'll be gone in eight weeks anyway.
Heart racing, she approached Hook's desk in class, looking over his shoulder and purposely drawing close enough for him to smell her perfume. He was reclined in his chair, completely at ease.
"That could work," she said, eyeing the tactical flight plan he had made on his paper. "But you might want to do a rollover instead. Your approach is too aggressive." She realized too late what she had just said, and bit her lower lip as she rounded the desk.
"That so?" he asked, smirking. He raised a dark eyebrow at her. "Perhaps I like fast and dirty."
Why did everything that came out of his mouth sound like sin covered in melted butter?
She sucked in a harsh breath before raising her eyes to meet his. "You're awfully sure of yourself, Hook."
He tilted his head at her. "What can I say? I'm a man of action."
She smiled softly at him, pretending to look through her papers while she paused by his desk.
He lowered his voice. "You didn't tell me who you were the other night."
"You didn't give me the chance."
"But I could tell that you were tempted...to ask me to dinner," he said, his face hopeful.
"I don't date students, Hook," she said, glancing at Doc to make sure he was listening. Hook's face fell as he turned to look at Doc, who was all but laughing at him.
He gestured for her to come closer, but she smiled at him demurely and didn't budge.
In a smooth husky voice he told her, "I can see that it's dangerous for you. But if the government trusts me, maybe you could too."
"It takes a lot more than just fancy flying," she told him.
Smiling smugly, she handed him the paper with the words, Dinner My place. 1276 Ocean Drive 6 p.m. sharp. Classified.
When he had read it, he looked up at her with an expression of extreme elation, giving her a subtle wink as his tongue moved behind his teeth. Shit. What had she gotten herself into? She could feel a blush creeping over her cheeks, and ducked her head in embarrassment.
Attempting to keep her cool, she walked out of the classroom. Time to stop at the ladies room for some cold water. Or a stiff drink. Or both.
Hook was more excited about tonight's date - it was a date, wasn't it? - than he had been in a long time. However, seeing as he wasn't allowed to tell anyone about it, he was currently in the middle of an intense game of beach volleyball that he didn't have a proper excuse to get out of.
All the guys were shirtless, showing off their lean physiques as they got tanned in the heat of the afternoon sun. He could tell that Hunter and Doc had logged some good hours in the gym, but he and Charming could hold their own too, as evidenced by the group of girls who had gathered by their side of the net to watch. Not that he was paying attention, though he may have been purposely letting his jeans ride low on his hips. If they wanted a show, he was happy to give it to them.
Serving the ball with vigor, he considered how he was going to get out of there and make it over to Swan's place on time. Doc and Hunter weren't making it easy. They were tied 3 games to 3, and it didn't look like they were planning on going anywhere anytime soon.
"Best out of ten?" Hunter called.
Maybe he should just let them win and get it over with. Nah.
He twirled the ball in his hands. "You got it!"
An hour later, he and Charming managed to win their sixth game, finally one-upping their opponents. He gave Charming a high five as he dropped the ball in the sand.
"Best out of thirteen!" Hunter declared, looking hopeful.
He shook his head. "Sorry, boys, but I've got to get going."
"Aww…" he heard them groan, but he couldn't be bothered with soothing their wounded egos at present. He had a dinner to get to, and there were plenty of adoring fans to keep them occupied.
Throwing his white t-shirt back on over his head, he checked his watch. 5:55. Bloody hell. This was not the first impression he was hoping to make. The day was warm and he was drenched in sweat, but he had to put his leather jacket on if he was going to ride his motorcycle. He only hoped she like her men late and sweaty.
Emma was pissed. She sat on her porch, overlooking the ocean, trying to calm her nerves. But every minute that ticked by just raised her ire even more. Was she being stood up? By the guy who sang to her just to get her attention? It didn't make any sense.
But as she watched the sun sink lower and lower towards the horizon, she was beginning to think that's exactly what was happening, and it triggered all of her anxiety about being rejected, like she'd been so many times before.
Stalking into the kitchen, she decided perhaps it was time to eat before the food she had prepared went completely to waste. She had just grabbed hold of the salad when the she heard a motorcycle pull up. A few moments later the doorbell buzzed.
Grinning to herself wrily, she shook her head. That bastard had the nerve to show up this late? Of course he did. She decided to make him sweat for a few minutes while she decided what to do.
Even if it wasn't quite the romantic evening she had planned, she still needed him for information about the MiG 28, loathe as she was to admit it. Sighing wearily, she knew she would have to let him in (just not as far as she had originally planned).
Footsteps on the back porch alerted her to the fact that he hadn't been dissuaded by her refusal to open the front door.
"Lieutenant?" she called, not looking up from what she was doing.
He opened the screen door and came inside hesitantly, taking ginger steps. Good, he was nervous.
Shaking his head he started, "Hey, I- I am-"
"No apologies," she said flatly. "What, no singing this time?"
That got a small grin out of him. "No," he said simply.
She poured the dressing on the salad and grabbed the serving spoons to toss it.
"I'm gonna go take a shower while you're finishing that up, if you don't mind."
Snapping her eyes to his, she noticed his disheveled appearance, his hair mussed and sweaty.
"Yes, I mind," she told him tersely. "I'm hungry." At that, she picked up the salad and walked away, not waiting to see if he would follow (he did).
It was quiet between them for awhile. She was still stewing silently, but she wasn't about to let him know he had had that effect on her. Once they were seated and the food was served, she let out a deep breath.
"Look, I'm going to be honest with you. You're probably wondering why I invited you here, so I figure I'll just tell you."
His face grew serious as he waited for her to continue.
"The MiG," she said, feeling a twinge of guilt wash over her at the disappointment that hung heavy in his eyes.
He smiled wanly at her. "The MiG," he repeated.
Suddenly feeling uncertain, she continued nervously, "I'm up for a big promotion at work, and I need that intel. You're the only pilot who's flown with one."
He nodded his head at her, his face full of resignation. "Do you always get what you want?" he asked.
"No. Well, yeah, most of the time," she answered, smiling at him coyly.
He smiled back softly, a small, fragile thing. "Well then, relax about the MiG, and pour me a glass of wine." He held up his empty glass.
"Oh, shoot! Sorry," she said, realizing she had completely forgotten about the wine.
Something told her he saw right through her attempt to put space between them, which frightened her, but was soothing at the same time. No matter what she threw his way, he just seemed to take it in stride, which would surprise her except that she knew the kind of gutsy pilot he was. Fearless, willing to put it all on the line and go down in a blaze of glory. That by itself turned her on more than the flex of his bicep as he lifted his wine glass (not that she noticed).
Dinner conversation remained relaxed, as promised, and a second glass of wine had her feeling mellow and warm. She invited him to sit on the porch with her and watch the sunset, and he obliged, though he remained standing, leaning against the house.
Louis Armstrong wafted out through the open window. "My folks used to love this music," Hook said, peering into his glass of wine as his eyes remained soft and unfocused. "My mom used to call down to me to have me play this song for her, over and over. I got so tired of it." He shook his head at the memory.
She smiled thinly, not able to add much to the conversation, but wondering what that must have been like to have a mother who loved to listen to music.
"She died not long after my father," he added almost shyly, and she looked up to see him staring at the floor, kicking at a speck of dust. The effect was not lost on her, as he appeared more vulnerable than she had ever seen him before.
Her heart clenched in her chest as she fought the urge to reach towards him and draw him into the comfort of her arms.
"What happened to him?"
He slowly made his way over to the wicker chair next to where she was seated on the couch and sat down. Sighing heavily, he said, "Not sure. He disappeared on a mission in '64 and they tell me it was his fault, but I don't believe them. He was an excellent pilot."
"Is that why you're always second best up there?"
He turned his piercing blue gaze on her. "You're quite perceptive, aren't you?"
She nodded softly. "Perhaps I've lost a few people too. And no one can tell me where they've disappeared to either." Their eyes remained locked as she resisted the need to look away.
Awareness filled his gaze as he drew closer, leaning towards her.
"I'm sorry I was late," he said softly.
"I'm sorry I'm perceptive," she said, shrugging her shoulder.
"No apologies," he said, staring deeply into her eyes.
The moment was broken when he smiled, revealing those charming dimples again, and she suddenly felt like there was no sense in denying what was happening between them any longer. He seemed to see through all her defenses anyway.
"This is going to be complicated," she told him, inching a bit closer as her eyes fell to his lips.
He nodded almost imperceptibly. Sighing, he got up from his chair, placing his wine glass on the table.
"Where are you going?" she asked, sitting up.
He turned around. "I'm gonna go take that shower," he said, smiling at her.
She smiled back wistfully. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was probably what she deserved. She did tell him he was only there for information about the MiG after all, so what right did she have to expect more?
Only that she wanted more, a lot more. Beyond all rhyme or reason, this hot-shot pilot was making his way into her heart, and she knew it was only a matter of time until she invited him into her bed as well.
Hook pressed the elevator button, waiting for it to arrive. Using the towel he had wrapped around his neck, he swiped at some of the sweat dripping down his forehead. He had put in a hard workout today, but it didn't accomplish what he had wanted it to, which was to distract him from his ever-present thoughts about a certain blonde lass.
As if on cue, the elevator doors opened up and there she was, peering up at him from under the brim of her cap. Reflexively, he smiled at her as he slid into the elevator. Leaning against the wall, he took a position facing her.
"Hi," he said softly.
She looked him over appreciatively, his thin white tank leaving little to the imagination.
"You're still in need of a shower," she said.
He nodded, laughing quietly. "That's true."
Her hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she was wearing a jumpsuit, making her appear younger, and his heart stuttered in his chest as his gaze lingered on her face.
She smiled nervously, looking like she wanted to say something but was having trouble getting the words out.
"Look, the MiG is important to me…" she trailed off. "But I don't usually invite students to my house for dinner," she finished, darting her eyes away nervously.
He stepped closer to her, his eyes never leaving her face. Her admission was making him more happy than he wanted to admit, and it was beginning to look like his patience was paying off.
"Is that so?" he asked, tilting his head. She smiled back at him as her eyes darted towards his mouth.
Just then the elevator doors opened, and he sprung back from her, resuming his spot against the wall.
"Afternoon, sir." He nodded his head at the superior officer who entered the elevator.
He and Swan smirked at each other like naughty teenagers until the elevator stopped again and the officer walked out, the doors closing behind him. He had one more floor until he reached his destination, so he decided to keep his response brief.
Drawing close to her again, he invaded her space, watching as her breath caught in her throat. His own heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. The air between them was thick with tension, and he wondered briefly just what she would do if he actually kissed her.
"I'm glad we got that cleared up," he told her instead, just before the elevator dinged its arrival. She let out the breath she'd been holding, smiling almost shyly at him as he smiled back at her.
Turning, he walked out of the elevator, leaving her behind. He only hoped he was having as big of an effect on her as she was having on him. Time for another shower, this time an even colder one.
Ever since their encounter in the elevator, Hook was making Emma nervous. She had made her intentions pretty clear with him, and now it was up to him to make the next move. Normally, she wouldn't sweat it too much, but they only had a limited amount of time before his Top Gun training was over, and he still hadn't even kissed her yet.
Lately it was all she could think about, and as she stirred the creamer into her coffee before tactical training class, she daydreamed about his mouth on hers - what it would feel like, what he would taste like. Snap out of it, Swan.
She was about to walk into a room full of pilots, and her nerves were getting to her. What if they could all see how much she liked him? She'd be the laughing stock of the entire unit, PhD or not. This is exactly what she'd strived so hard to avoid.
Sighing deeply, she took a sip of her coffee. It was time to 'woman-up' and put on her big girl panties. They weren't going to hand this promotion to her, and she'd worked too hard to throw it all away now, school girl crush regardless.
The snappy click of her heels down the hallway helped to focus her mind. She was a professional and she would do her job, just as she had done it for the last several years. Her feelings for Hook would have to be put on the backburner.
When she entered the classroom, their eyes caught briefly, but he didn't make any other acknowledgement of her presence besides the subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth. He had asked her to trust him, and she had to admit, so far he'd been very discreet about their relationship. Perhaps she could trust him after all.
As it so happened, this was the day Marco set aside to review Hook's flight with the MiG 28. It was the first time she had seen the flight simulation, and she was amazed by what Hook had done in the face of an enemy aircraft. It was dangerous, but also gutsy as hell, and in the end it paid off, considering he and Charming had made it out alive and brought their wingman in as well.
"That's a pretty ballsy approach," she started, turning and walking towards where Hook was sitting in the class. "What were you thinking up there?"
He had his arms crossed over his chest and a impudent expression on his face.
"You don't have time to think when you're up there. If you think, you're dead."
"Well, I think we can all agree that this is a prime example of what not to do in that situation. Let's talk about the textbook example of what Hook should have done…" She turned away from him, but not before she saw his downcast expression, his jaw clenching in anger.
She knew she had embarrassed him in front of his peers, not to mention undermining his abilities as a pilot, but there was no other sensible approach. If she had praised his recklessness in front of everyone, they would know. She wouldn't be able to keep her admiration in check, and all their secrets would be laid out on the table for everyone to see.
When class was over, Hook stalked out of the classroom, his shoulders tense. She waited a few beats so as not to look as though she were following him, then made her way towards the exit after him.
Emma caught up with him in the hallway, taking long strides to reach him, but largely unsuccessful.
"Lieutenant!" she called after him, but he refused to turn around.
Just as he was climbing on his motorcycle, she finally reached him. She knew she had hurt him, but it was necessary, and he needed to understand that.
"Lieutenant! My review of your flight performance was right on in my professional opinion," she said forcefully.
The load roar of his engine drowned her out as he purposely revved it high. He put a hand to his ear. "I can't hear you!" he shouted, then he gunned it out of the parking lot.
Emma was furious. If he was going to ask her to put heart and her career on the line for him, the least he could do was listen to the rest of her explanation, dammit!
Running across the parking lot in her heels, she jumped into her bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle, starting the engine up with a quick twist of her wrist, and backing out of her parking spot like a shot.
Hook flew out of the parking lot, not sparing her a parting glance.
He would have been mad at anybody had they given him the performance review that Swan had, but this was personal. Too personal.
After all the back and forth they had been doing, he thought they were finally on steady ground. Then she had to go and humiliate him in front of his classmates, and it appeared as if they were back to playing games again - her showing that she was tough, putting him in his place. It was all part of her act, and he'd had just about enough.
Midway up a hill, he spotted her garish yellow bug tearing around a corner in his side mirror. He gunned his motorcycle faster, hoping to lose her, but she blasted up the hill at full speed. When she ripped through an intersection without evening stopping, nearly causing an accident, he decided enough was enough, and pulled his bike over, cutting the engine.
Swan pulled her bug over sharply behind him, flying out of it like a mad hornet as soon as the motor died, slamming the door behind her.
"Bloody hell! And you think I'm reckless! When I fly, I'll have you know that my crew and my plane come first!" he shouted at her, clenching his fists tightly at his sides, his body like a livewire.
"I'm going to finish my sentence, lieutenant! My review of your flight performance was right on," she yelled at him.
"Is that right?" he asked incredulously.
"But I held something back. I see some real genius in your flying, Hook, but I can't say that in there," her tone a bit softer.
That wasn't what he was expecting her to say, and he looked at her in shock and awe as she continued, more gently now.
"I was afraid that everyone in there would see right through me." She paused briefly. "I just don't want anyone to know that I've fallen for you," she said in complete earnest, her jaw set hard as she stared him down.
He couldn't believe the words that were coming out of her mouth, but he knew there was only one way to respond to such a declaration.
Crashing his lips to hers, he proceeded to kiss her senseless, cradling her head in his hands and pouring every ounce of passion he had felt for her since the moment he laid eyes on her into his kiss. She responded in kind, opening her mouth to him as their tongues intertwined. Tilting his head to get a better angle, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.
It was everything he had wanted with her from the very beginning, but now so much more, because they had fallen for each other hook, line and sinker.
He pressed her back against the car until they were lined up from hip to shoulder without an inch of space between them, and he continued kissing her hungrily until they were both breathless and shaking.
Holding her face gently in his hands, he smiled at her tenderly, biting his lower lip. Her face was flushed, her eyes dark and wild, and he had never wanted anybody more in his entire life.
"I've fallen for you, too, lass," he whispered. "Not that you made it particularly easy."
She grinned at that before she kissed him again, clutching the lapels of his jacket and pulling him down to her waiting lips. Her hands moved to roam freely into the hair at the nape of his neck, sending pleasant tingles down his spine. When they finally pulled away, she smiled up at him with a look that was both adoring and laced with desire. He rocked his hips against her, not caring that they were in the middle of a busy street, and they both gasped at the contact.
"I think it's time you show me some of your advanced maneuvers, lieutenant," she said, sliding her hands inside his jacket and into the waistband of his pants.
He raised an eyebrow at her, fully comprehending her meaning. "Please," he said. "Call me Killian."
Emma's heart was racing the entire drive to her house, the scenery flying by in a blur. Leaving her car window open, she reveled in the feel of the cool ocean breeze flying through her hair. She felt more free than she had in a long time, all of her cards put out on the table.
Checking to make sure Hook was still behind her, she smirked at the rearview mirror. She couldn't seem to wipe the smile off her face no matter how hard she tried.
When they finally pulled up to her house, the weight of the moment made her breathless with anticipation. Waiting by the front door, she watched as Hook - Killian - sauntered towards her, a cocky smirk on his face. As soon as he reached her, he grabbed her by the waist and pushed her up against the house next to the front door, diving in for a stirring kiss.
Kissing him was better than she had even imagined, a wealth of chemistry mixed with feeling. She'd never felt like this about anyone before, and she was willing to bet he felt the same.
Pulling away, she turned and attempted to unlock the door as Killian kissed her neck, his hands roaming beneath the hem of her shirt, sending fireworks across her skin. She was tempted to let him take her right there on the front porch, damn propriety.
"Ohhh…" she moaned, leaning back into him and rubbing her ass against him where he was hard and ready for her. He was sucking on the base of her neck where it meets her shoulder, and she was having trouble standing up straight, let alone opening the door.
His hand slid up under her shirt, cupping her breast, and the shockwave that ran straight to her core awakened her, suddenly aware that anyone on the street could see them.
"You need to let me unlock the door," she said breathlessly. "And I can't manage until you stop doing that."
"Oh? You mean this?" he asked as he rubbed his palm in circles over her nipple and rocked into her with his hips, driving her insane.
"Yes, that," she hissed, biting her lip. She could feel him grinning smugly against her shoulder, but he pulled his hand away dutifully.
Once they had made it inside, he shut the door behind him, and she turned to face him, unable to be separated from him for more than a moment. His eyes were dark and hungry as he approached her, grabbing her at the waist and pulling her to him.
Kissing her deeply, they rocked back and forth, slowly making their way towards the bedroom. She put her hands inside his jacket, pushing it over his shoulders. He let go of her momentarily to let it drop to the floor. Then he did the same with her jacket, and she shook it off her shoulders impatiently. When she reached for her buttons and began to undo them, he stilled her hands with his.
"Wait," he said. "Allow me."
Standing there in the hallway, she shivered as she watched him slowly, carefully unbutton her shirt, one button at a time. It was exquisite torture, his lips following the trail of his fingers, placing a warm, wet kiss against every expanse of skin as it became exposed. When he got to her stomach, he knelt down before her, working his lips and tongue over the smooth skin around her belly button. Grabbing her hips, he pulled her to him, and his proximity had her arousal rising to a fever pitch.
Bending down further, he kissed the inside of her right knee through her nylons, his hands smoothing up her thighs to a height that was making her swallow thickly. When he reached the top of her pantyhose, he hooked his fingers inside the waistband and began to pull them down slowly, looking up at her to watch her face. As he scratched lightly down her thighs, she sucked in a harsh breath, mesmerized by the feel of his fingers on her skin.
When he got to her ankles, he carefully removed her heels, one at a time, letting them drop to the floor. Then he peeled off the final bit and flung the offending garment over his shoulder. With a raise of his eyebrows, he resumed kissing her inner thighs, and she whined at the touch, somehow ten times more sensitive without their covering. Her skirt bunched higher and higher as he continued his path northward, and she clutched at his hair, letting her head fall back on a sigh.
A soft, guttural moan escaped her lips as he nosed at her center through her underwear, his lips hot on her most sensitive area. He seemed to know exactly what to do in order to drive her mad with desire, and she swallowed hard in response. She felt him curl his fingers into the waistband of her panties, but then he relaxed his grip, pulling his head away and eliciting another whimper from her.
Standing up, he finished removing her shirt, pushing it over her shoulders and letting it drop to the ground. She unzipped her skirt from behind, and let that fall too, stepping out of it.
"You're gorgeous, Swan," he said, taking her in.
"Please," she said softly, staring into his eyes. "Call me Emma."
Her heart was pounding in her chest as he looked her over, but before she could do anything else, he grabbed her and lifted her up bridal style, his strong arms carrying her the rest of the way into her darkened bedroom.
Placing her softly atop the bed, she watched as he removed his shirt from his pants and pulled it up slowly over his head. Then he undid the top button of his pants, his tongue darting to wet his lips, and she watched him intently as he pushed his pants down, revealing a large bulge in his boxer briefs.
Slowly, he crawled up the bed and over her like a panther, and it was everything and nothing like she expected.
"I thought you liked it fast and dirty?" she asked, raising her eyebrow at him.
He stroked her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear in a tender gesture.
"Not with you, Emma. I want to remember every last detail," he said, before he crushed her lips with his, his body coming to rest between her legs.
Her head was swimming with an overload of sensation and emotion, almost bringing tears to her eyes. She never expected this to happen, but it was like a dream come to life. He treated her like a princess, like she was special and worthy of admiration and she loved him for it all the more.
Pulling the cup of her bra down to reveal one taught nipple, he lowered his head down and sucked at it tenderly, making her squirm beneath him. She reached behind her and unfastened her bra, throwing it across the room.
When his lips closed over one nipple and his hand clutched the other breast, she decided that was a very, very good decision. Holding his head tight to her body, she moaned appreciatively as he bestowed his attentions on her breasts, licking and biting one gently as he groped and kneaded the other. He began rocking forward with his hips, and she welcomed him, wrapping her legs around him tightly and pulling him towards her.
His lips moved up the slim column of her neck and she gasped as every sensitive spot was discovered and worshipped appropriately. Rocking her hips up against him, she groaned before whispering hoarsely, "Killian, I need you. Please."
He raised his head to look at her and she could only imagine how desperate she must look. But when she saw the love and desire in his eyes, she no longer cared. Pushing off of her to the side, he watched her closely as he smoothed his hand down her torso until his fingertips slid inside her underwear. She knew she was already lush and wet for him, and she watched as his eyelids fluttered closed and he groaned in appreciation.
Her breath sped up to a pant as he began to stroke her, and she knew she was perilously close to the edge already. His fingers found her delicate nub and he circled over it, watching her carefully. When she began to cry out, her back arching up off the bed, he captured her cries with his mouth, kissing her forcefully until she came down from the high.
He pulled back, looking at her in awe as she stroked her hands over his shoulders.
She stared into his eyes, only halfway sated. "I still need you," she whispered hoarsely.
"As the lady insists," he said, tugging her panties down over her hips and down her long, lean legs. She wasted no time in copying him, enjoying the feel of his firm ass as she pushed his briefs down.
When he was situated on top of her, so close to her entrance, he stopped and looked deeply into her eyes, smoothing her hair away from her forehead.
"You were worth the wait," he said, before he lowered his mouth to kiss her, driving forward and inside of her as her mouth fell open on a gasp.
"Oh, God," she moaned as he filled her completely, a pleasant feeling of being stretched to capacity making her head swim.
They rocked against each other as she clutched at his back, feeling the sinew of his muscles as they flexed and contracted. She grabbed his ass hard and he hissed at her, making her grin mischievously.
In one smooth move, she flipped them over until he was on his back, then she hovered over him, sinking down on him slowly while she never broke eye contact. She rubbed at his chest, exploring the dark whorls of chest hair with her fingertips and watching him take in short, ragged breaths.
"Fuck, love - I'm close," he managed to choke out, before he flipped them again, bringing them to the edge of the mattress.
Pulling her leg up, he hooked it over his shoulder as he continued driving them towards their inevitable release. The noises coming out of her mouth were positively obscene now. Reaching her hand between them, she found her own clit and rubbed hard at it as his face contorted with the effort of holding back.
His eyes were dark and wide as he watched her, and when he could no longer resist, he growled low as he pounded into her, coming hard. It was the only thing she needed to push her over the edge, and she cried out loudly before crushing her mouth to his in a bruising kiss.
Killian continued driving into her until they both rode out the waves of pleasure, murmurs and grunts of satisfaction filling the air. She slowed her kiss to a more sensual pace, sucking on his lower lip and nibbling lightly.
She pressed her mouth to his ear. "If I had known how good you were, I would have taken you up on your offer in the ladies room," she told him.
His body shook with laughter as he looked down at her. "I told you it could be comfortable."
She shook her head at him. "Not comfortable, incredible."
He kissed her again, holding her close. When they had both cleaned up and readied themselves for bed, she allowed him to curl around her, the solid feel of his chest comforting against her back.
Much later, she awoke to a rather surprising hardness against her ass, and she welcomed his hand as it roamed over her naked hip and found its way home. Almost purring in pleasure, he brought her to yet another release, her leg curled over his hip as he drove into her from behind, clutching at her breast.
When morning came, she opened her eyes slowly, smiling at the memories of the night before. Stretching luxuriously, she sighed in contentment. She noticed the bed was empty beside her, but before she could be alarmed, she saw a piece of paper folded into the shape of an origami swan resting atop the empty pillow. Picking it up, she twirled it in her fingers, catching the light filtering in through the blinds.
She almost hated to undo it, but finally relented, wanting to read the note inside.
I'm sorry I had to leave you, love. (May I call you love now?)
Had an early morning training flight.
You take my breath away, Swan.
Ever yours,
Killian
Lying there, she thought about everything that had happened since this crazy man had walked into her life. He was charming, honorable, cocky as hell, and one hell of a lover. She realized in the end it wasn't complicated at all - they were perfect for one another.
You take my breath away, Swan. Ditto Hook.