"When was your last time?"
They'd been sitting at the dock, sipping coffee together, and Emma's question nearly made him choke. "Last time, love?" He pushed the lidded cup aside and turned his full attention to her.
"Yeah, to… you know."
For all her tough lass bluster, Swan was precious. "Truth be told, it's been a while."
"The year in the Enchanted Forest?"
Her gaze was wary, as if afraid of his answer. He retrieved his rum and took a hefty swig. "Alas, no."
She looked surprised and relieved. "Really, for a whole year? You?"
"Aye, me." He tucked the flask back into his pocket. "You'd prefer I'd given you a different answer?"
She wasn't going to answer that. "What about the all those years you were with Cora - before the beanstalk?"
That one made him sputter. "Cora? No. Not ever. And besides, we spent that time locked into a spell. It was as if a day had passed.
"So it's been thirty years or so?"
He shook his head at her. "It's bad form to boast of my conquests."
"Or lack of," she muttered.
It wouldn't do to explore this further, so perhaps she should answer some uncomfortable questions. "And what or your… conquests? I'm assuming Monkey Man."
"Stop."
"You have to admit, Swan, given the course of the last thirty years, I'd wager to say that you have the upper hand in this situation."
He felt her fingers on his arm and their warmth as they trailed downward to toy with his rings. "You don't have to worry, you know," she said.
He took in the sly glace she shifted his way, and he swallowed hard. "Worry?"
Her palm met his and their fingers twined. Her thumb ran up and down his hand as she leaned close. He felt the brush of her lips against his ear.
"I promise I'll be gentle."
