Author's note: To quote Leroy..."IT'S HERE!" I am so excited for this chapter and finally allowing this story to move into its next phase. Those of you who are familiar with my work...you know what's coming. For all the newbies, well, this story is rated M for a VERY GOOD REASON. Read at your own risk!

Disclaimer: Le sigh.

Chapter 7

"See you on Monday, Granny!" Emma called as she left the diner. She waved at the old lady, trying to downplay the nerves she was feeling.

Emma headed over to the parking garage where her Bug waited. She still had a couple of hours before going to Killian's house. Part of her still couldn't believe she was taking him up on his offer...the rest of her was a mixture of excited and nervous. Emma wasn't naive. She had a pretty good idea what would happen once they were alone. The idea that he wanted her as much if not more than she wanted him was staggering.

She went home after a quick stop at the drug store. If things did go in the direction she suspected then she was going to be prepared. Elsa wasn't home when Emma arrived; she had only been able to give her friend the briefest of explanations when she left her at the parade the night before. Emma had gotten home late, walking with Killian until she was shivering. He walked her to her car and kissed the back of her hand before leaving her.

She dumped her gym bag and headed for the bathroom, intending to take a long cleansing shower. She absolutely was not motivated by a desire to get the stench of stale coffee and burgers off of her skin. She washed twice, her vanilla scented body wash making the bathroom smell nice. After, she stood in front of her closet, trying to decide what to wear.

That was when she really started to get nervous. Was this a date? Were they in a relationship now? Emma didn't know how many first dates involved nude posing, if that's what he meant when he said he wanted to sketch her. That was what he meant, right? Theoretically, he could sketch her whenever he wanted in his classes, but she knew this was different. She could sense it in the adorably shy way he'd asked. He wasn't asking her there a model. This was something he'd wanted for a long time.

God, she prayed she had read him correctly.

Cursing her own indecision, Emma slipped on her nicest bra and panty set—black, trimmed in lace—and found her favorite hip hugging jeans. It was properly cold now, so she opted for blood red cable knit sweater; the fabric clung to her curves. She looked at herself critically in the full length mirror; she really hoped this was some sort of date or even more than a date. She really did like him, wanted to impress him.

Emma went fairly light on the makeup, just enough to bring out her eyes, stain her lips red to match her sweater. She debated for a while about her hair, ultimately choosing to pull it back. It would be easier for her to pin it up when he sketched her.

She shivered just thinking about it.

She looked at the clock; it was 6:30. Killian had programmed his number and address into her phone; she'd already checked it out on Google Maps. He lived in a sparse neighborhood on the edge of town in a small two story house. It was cute, not at all what she expected. Then again, Killian was the first professor she'd looked at as a person and not someone giving out assignments and grading papers. She wondered why he chose that place.

Perhaps she could ask him.

She slipped her wallet and drug store purchase in her small purse, then grabbed her coat and keys. She left a note for Elsa, letting her know that she was out and not to wait up. Then she climbed back into her Bug and headed out.

The homecoming football game hadn't started yet, but almost everyone was out at the stadium tailgating. That made traffic light as she drove through town; she got to Killian's ten minutes sooner than she thought, parking in his driveway. Should she wait until seven? Stop being an idiot, Swan.

Gathering her courage, Emma got out of the car and walked up to the door. And knocked. And waited. And waited. Her heart started pounding as she tried not to chew on her lip. Had she gotten it all wrong? Her eyes searched the door frame for a button to ring the bell; she found it to her right, nearly obscured by an overgrown bush.

She pressed it.

It took another minute for the door to open.

It was a bit like their first meeting all over again, as they stood on either side of the entry way. Killian's eyes locked with hers; she felt rooted to the spot. She couldn't place all the emotions she saw in the deep blue depths, but happiness and awe dominated. He too was wearing jeans along with a gray button down shirt and blue silk vest, his hair soft and inky black.

"You came," he said, a bit dumbly.

She tried to smile. "Of course I did."

Killian swallowed. "I was a bit afraid last night had been a particularly cruel dream, love."

Had he dreamed about her? "If it was, then we had the same one," she quipped. "Lotsa people? Ugly floats? A quiet stroll through campus?"

Killian smiled, the dimples flashing in his cheeks. "That would be the one." Then he stepped back. "Please. Come in, Emma."

She ducked her head, suddenly feeling a bit bashful as she entered his home.

"May I take your coat?" He sounded so formal; Emma burst into giggles. Killian frowned. "It might have been a while since I've done this, love, but I was trying to be a gentleman."

Emma calmed herself, letting him slip the coat from her shoulders. He hung it on a peg, next to his own. "Been a while since you've done what?" she asked.

Killian looked her up and down, his eyes darkening a bit. There he was. "Had a beautiful woman in my home."

Emma blushed. "What made you change your mind?"

He stepped closer, gently picking up her hand, kissing the pad of each finger. "I thought that was obvious, Emma."

Okay, now her heart was stuttering as she tried to remember to breathe. She wanted to kiss him, but still wasn't sure that was appropriate for whatever they were doing now. As if reading her thoughts, Killian's tongue darted out to wet his lips; Emma struggled not to moan. He was hardly touching her—still just her hand, inches from his face—but she was on fire already.

The moment stretched for a long time, with them simply drinking each other in. "Shall we?" Killian said softly.

"Um..."

"A glass of wine?"

"Oh! Sure. Wine is...is good." She was never this nervous on a date, but deep down she knew this was more. This thing with them—whatever it was—had been building since the moment they met, almost as if the world was throwing them together on purpose. Over and over again.

Killian smiled that happy toothy grin and led her by the hand deeper into his home. They passed the living room, which was sparsely furnished with a couple of leather armchairs and a threadbare couch. The TV was mounted on the wall. The house looked clean and well kept, which struck her as funny.

"Something amusing, love?" Killian asked, guiding her to his kitchen.

"It's just...well, I live with an artist," she said, looking at him. "And our place isn't nearly this clean."

Killian chuckled. "I may have tidied up a bit. Did a thorough cleansing a couple of weeks ago actually."

"You must have been really bored."

"It was raining and I had nowhere else to be." Oh. Could it have been after they spent the afternoon in the gallery? She watched as Killian uncorked the wine bottle; it opened with a soft pop. He let it breathe for a minute or so then poured them each a glass. His fingers brushed hers as he handed her a glass. "Cheers?"

Emma smiled. "Cheers." They clinked and drank. The wine was really good, a smooth red that she'd never had before. "Hmm, that's really good," she complimented.

"Does the lass know her wines?"

Emma shrugged. "A little. I'm usually more of a beer girl, college and all that."

"I'll have to keep that in mind."

"Planning on serving often?"

He smirked. "I genuinely hope so."

Emma covered her gulp by taking another drink of her wine. "When I turned twenty one, Elsa and some of our friends insisted we go bar hopping."

"Judging by your tone, I gather it was a less than pleasant experience?"

"Let's just say Emma learned when to quit the hard way." Throwing up in the hallway of her friend Mary Margaret's apartment building, then passing out cold in her living room definitely gave Emma some perspective on drinking.

"Would you like to know a secret?"

She smiled. "Sure."

"I was a lad of fifteen when I had my first drink. My brother, Liam, tried to pass it off as really strong tea."

"What was it?"

"Rum." Killian smiled. "Drank the whole thing then promptly passed out."

They both laughed. There was still tension, still anticipation of what the night could have in store for them, but Emma felt calmer knowing their banter was still in place. They finished their wine; Killian took her hand again. Emma's breathing hitched but her hand was steady. For now. "Where do you want me?" she asked.

Killian stared for a moment, then swallowed. "That is a very loaded question, love."

She felt a thrill shoot through her; it was heady, knowing how much they could effect each other. "Why do you think I asked it?"

"Bloody minx." He tightened his fingers around hers. "My studio is in the back."

"You have your own studio?"

"You'll be the first to cross the threshold, aside from myself."

"Wow," she couldn't help but say.

Killian brushed his lips over her knuckles again. "Come."

Emma let him guide her through the house, to a large, mostly bare, room. The only things in here were a bench much like the one in his classroom, a few stools, a screen and a long table for his art supplies. French doors and a side window must let in natural light during the day, but now only showed darkness smattered with stars. There were a couple of lamps, but no overhead light. Killian let go of her long enough to turn them on, illuminating him in their soft glow. The shadows and angles merely highlighted the handsomeness of his face; Emma felt a sweet ache in her chest, wanting so badly to kiss him.

"Emma?"

He stood in front of her, looking bit shy and perhaps a little confused. Emma had no idea what her face looked like. Before she could talk herself out of it, she stepped in close and cradled his face in her hands. She liked the way his scruff rubbed and scratched her palms. Emma had to get up on her toes a bit—the boots didn't give her much height—but she managed to brush her lips over his. She shivered as he wrapped his arms around her waist, but he didn't pull her closer. Emma pressed harder, trying to get him to open up for her.

Killian pulled back with a frustrated groan. "Emma...we should...wait," he breathed.

"Wait for what?" she demanded. If he tried that gentleman crap again, she was going to seriously consider punching him in his handsome face.

His smile flickered as he stroked her cheek. "You promised I could sketch you, darling," he murmured softly. The sweet endearment made her heart thud loudly in her chest. Where did he even come from?

"Oh. You really want to?"

He nodded. "For longer than I care to admit, to be truthful. But I want what you want, Emma. Do you believe me?"

She searched his eyes, but there was nothing but earnestness and desire in his gaze. "Yeah."

"May I have this one thing?"

"You may." To her surprise, he kissed her, far too quickly for her liking. But they'd waited this long, what was another hour or so? She smiled when he let her go. "I'm assuming I need to change?"

He smirked. "If you would be so kind, Miss Swan."

She rolled her eyes but headed for the screen. There was a robe behind it; Emma picked it up. It was soft terrycloth, green. She caught a whiff of something familiar...it was the same woodsy scent from her robe in Killian's class. Had they come from the same place? Or the same person? It didn't take her criminal justice background to deduce the robe's origin.

Knowing now that both robes were Killian's...Emma was in very big trouble.

She put down the robe and started to strip. It was a familiar feeling but her hands shook in a way they hadn't since her first nude pose. This wasn't for a classroom filled with strangers, this was for Killian. And only for him.

Emma picked up the robe, then thought better of it. If she was going to do this, then she should do it in a way that was blow him away. She held her head up, chin out, as she stepped from behind the screen.


Killian was berating himself the entire time Emma was changing. Or, more specifically, his cock was berating him. He wanted her so much...having her in his home and not ravishing her was making him crazy. Especially now that he knew they wanted the same thing...badly. Her kiss nearly had him undone, foregoing his carefully laid plan and just taking what she was offering. It was a willpower he didn't know he possessed that got him to step back and ask her to allow him to sketch her.

He got out his easel and pad, planted the high stool in front and angled it so that they could see each other while he sketched. He'd been hovering on the edge of arousal since she arrived, but he knew he wouldn't be able to hide it any longer once she stepped out from behind the screen. But at that point, he didn't want to hide it. He wanted her to know how much she tormented him.

He tried not to stare at the screen, but as the minutes ticked by he gave up. What was taking so long? Had she changed her mind? He didn't know what he would do if she did. He was composing the speech in his head when she appeared.

She was entirely nude.

For a moment he couldn't breathe, stunned speechless. He expected her to use the robe. He expected to watch her peel out of it. Instead she was naked as the day she was born and utterly perfect to his eyes.

Emma crept closer on bare feet, pausing in front of the bench. "Do you want to help me?" she asked, wetting her lips. Killian could already see her nipples hardening, the pink areola darkening ever so slightly.

Her voice shook him from his stupor and he rushed over to her. "First," he said, impressed at how steady his voice was at the moment, "we need to take this down." He reached for her hair tie and eased it from her long golden tresses. Emma stood utterly still as he combed his fingers through it, feeling the silkiness. He lightly massaged her scalp; he heard her moan softly. The sound went straight to his cock and he had to bite his lip. Hard.

"I thought you needed my hair up?" Emma asked.

"We're not in class, love. And I not a student." His fingers threaded through the loose curls. "God, I love you hair." He'd noticed it the very first time they met; it felt as amazing as he'd imagined. His fingers itched to touch more of her, but he held back. There would be time. They had all night.

If he had his way, he'd try and persuade her to stay.

Emma's heart thudded in her chest; she could feel the heat rolling off him. "Killian..." God, her voice sounded breathy and wanton and he was still hardly touching her.

He sucked in a deep calming breath. "Lie back, Emma. In any pose you choose."

He turned his back before he did something else, moving to the stool. He sat and picked up his charcoal. He'd pictured this moment so many times since the first time she posed in his class; he couldn't believe it was actually happening. Finally, he looked up.

He expected her to use her long hair to obscure some part of herself, but Emma surprised him yet again. She had one leg dangling over the front edge of the bench, the other bent, as the bench wasn't quite long enough for her to stretch out completely. The way she had her hips angled gave him a fleeting glimpse of her bare mound. She lay back on the pillows he'd supplied, one delicate hand resting tantalizing on her stomach, the other up near her head, a few tendrils of hair twirled around her fingers. She was staring at him, green eyes burning with lust, searing him with a look.

Good lord, she really was trying to kill him.

Killian didn't know how long he stared, utterly enamored with her. At length, he realized he needed to get a move on or they truly would be here all night. He brought the charcoal to the page and began to sketch.

Emma kept her breathing as shallow as possible. In this she was helped (and hindered) by the deep seated arousal she felt. She watched in fascination as his eyes flickered constantly between her and the page, his hand moving with sure strokes. Classes were nothing like this; this was heat and want passing between them, churning like a summer storm, the air thick and heavy. Emma gave him the same scrutiny, taking in the way his brow furrowed in concentration, the way his lips moved (almost as if he were talking to himself), the set of his shoulders as his hand flew over the page. He sat facing her, legs splayed and Emma could see his erection clearly through the denim. She gulped a little; her first impression was that he was bigger than she expected. The thought made her squirm a bit on the bench, her core clenching. She was already wet; she could feel it in the cool air of the room.

Hurry up, she thought over and over. She knew this was important to him and didn't want to ruin the moment, but she was burning up, needing to be touched.

Emma's skin was completely flushed now, Killian noted, the rosy pink of her nipples spreading. One day he'd do this with color and capture the way she looked when aroused. There was no doubt that she was very aroused, her nipples sharp points, the glistening sex. The fact that she was turned on by him sketching her turned him on; he was rock hard in his jeans, the material straining. He could hardly focus, but he pushed through it, wanting to capture this moment on the page. He smoothed out the shadows around her breasts, molded the contour of her stomach and navel. He shaded the pout of her lips and the burning gaze, before capturing the light in her hair.

And then he was finished.

He put down the charcoal and surveyed his work. He was sure he would find flaws later, but he felt it captured her siren's song amazingly well. The indefinable thing that drew him in.

"Can I see?" she asked, jolting him.

"If you wish."

Emma moved to stand, her muscles protesting a tiny bit. She'd been stationary for a little over an hour, she was certain it would be worth it. She didn't bother to cover herself as she closed the space between them. Killian held out his hand for her and she took it, allowing him to draw her to stand between his open legs, facing the sketch.

Oh.

She knew Killian was talented, but she wasn't prepared to see herself through his eyes. She looked like a goddess or nymph from a Renaissance painting, only in black and white. It almost felt like she could reach out and touch; it seemed so lifelike. She bit her lip, trying to find words for what she was feeling.

"Emma?" Oh god, he sounded so nervous!

"It's...beautiful, Killian."

"But less so than the lady herself."

"Is this really how you see me?"

"You doubt me?"

Emma turned, still not quite having the words for the most moving moment of her life. So instead she relied on her actions. She ran her thumb over his lips, cupping his cheeks in her hands. Then she brought his lips to hers.

It was as if someone had lit a match. The lingering tension snapped into focus, each of them moaning into the kiss. Almost tentatively, his hands slid over her waist, fingertips skimming over the curve of her spine.

"Emma," he panted, lips loving along her jaw, down her throat. "I should...hands dirty..."

Did he really thing she cared about that? If anything, it only made her burn hotter. "No, I want you...just like this." Her fingers dived into his hair as his mouth licked along her collar, his hands moving eagerly over her skin now. She would probably have black streaks all over her back and stomach but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Killian was too hot, with too many clothes, but he couldn't bring himself to stop touching her long enough to strip. He'd imagined this moment a thousand different ways, and here she was bare before him, begging for his touch. He cupped one breast in his hand and gave her a wicked grin. When his lips wrapped around a pert nipple, Emma keened, her back arching, fingers pulling his hair.

"Oh my god," Emma gasped, clenching her thighs. A fierce ache like she had never known before rested between her legs, she struggled with needing more and loving every sweep of his tongue on her sensitive skin. He switched breasts and she moaned again—louder this time—pure want making her clit throb painfully.

"Emma...fuck, the sounds you make..." He nipped sharply on her breast and Emma hissed in pleasure. And his profanity merely made her wetter.

"Clothes," she whined in complaint, pulling on the collar of his shirt. "I want to see you too."

He stopped and looked up at her, pupils blown wide, only a thin ring of that lovely blue to be seen. "You have me, love."

Killian took her proffered hand, and she pulled him into a standing position. It momentarily eased the ache in his groin; the jeans far too tight now. Emma moved them back to the bench, turning so she was facing him.

"Here, darling?" He fantasized about having her in this very studio; he never expected it to come true so soon.

Emma merely nodded. She stood on her toes and kissed him, hands sliding down his chest. She found the buttons of his vest and pried them loose with deft fingers. Still kissing him, she rolled it off his shoulders and it fell to the floor. He offered to help, but Emma just shook her head. "You've seen me naked," she said. "Now I want to strip you."

A shiver raced down his spine, but he nodded. He would give her anything she asked, as long as she didn't stop. She nibbled at his Adam's apple, repeating the process with his dress shirt, yanking it from his jeans. Her mouth moved lower, pressing open mouthed kisses over his chest, her tongue swirling around his nipples.

"Fuck," he swore. It was so difficult to remain still, to let her explore. She flashed him a smile, blunt nails raking through his chest hair. After she peeled the shirt from his body, she followed the trail of hair down his abdomen, unconsciously licking her lips. "Bloody hell, Emma."

"Hmmm?"

"You have no idea how badly I want to touch you right now."

She palmed him though the bulge in his pants. "I beg to differ, Killian."

Killian's breathing hitched; it was like she was doing everything in her power to kill him on the spot. He couldn't remember ever wanting like this; it was only Emma. "Love, please."

She whipped the belt open and tore it from the loops. She opened his fly; Killian groaned in relief, then again in pleasure as Emma dipped her small hand into his boxers and started to stroke his cock. Emma moaned, her own need mounting, savoring the rock hard smoothness in her hand. He was big, thick and longer than she was used to. She imagined him filling her and she cursed softly.

"God, I want you so much," she breathed, reaching up with her free hand and pulling him down by the neck. He met her fierce needy kiss, roughly shoving his pants and boxers down his hips. The moment he stepped out of them he pulled her flush against his chest; she sighed into his mouth, thrilled to finally be skin to skin with him. His chest hair rubbed her nipples as his hands moved over her lower back and ass, squeezing.

Killian nudged them to the bench, each of them kneeling on it. They broke their kiss, catching their breath, hands still stroking their heated, flushed skin. "Emma...I've dreamed about this...often." He kissed her neck, lips sliding to where neck met shoulder and biting down. Emma bit her lip and moaned, hips rocking fruitlessly, her body demanding friction. The fingers of his left had were cleaner and he skimmed them down her trembling stomach until he found where she was soaked.

"Yes," she panted, spreading her legs on the bench. "Oh god." She couldn't describe how good it felt to having him touch her there.

"So bloody wet," he breathed. "Fuck." They teased each other, Killian rubbing her slick flesh as Emma stroked his cock, getting caught up in deep heated kisses.

"Killian...I...I need..."

"I know what you need, love." He slid a finger inside her drenched heat; she clenched around him.

"No, I want you inside me. Please, Killian."

He kissed her hard on the mouth, still stroking her; she was going to feel incredible around him.

He broke the kiss and said "pants" at the same time she said "purse." They both let out strangled laughs. "Mine's closer, lass," Killian pointed out.

Emma gave his cock a twist before letting him go to find his pants. "Good to know we were both prepared," she quipped, biting back a moan, as he was still fingering her. She found the foil pack in his back pocket, straightening up triumphantly. She gave him a long slow kiss as she ripped it open and glided the condom over his impressive length.

"Still sure?" Killian asked, pulling away to stroke her cheek tenderly.

"Yeah." She expected him to lay her out on the bench, but instead he leaned back on his haunches. Emma climbed into his lap, her core finally coming into contact with his sheathed cock. She was trembling, her desire at a fever pitch. But still they moved slowly, focusing on the power of the moment.

She took him in her hand and guided him; Emma keened and panted as he slowly filled her. She was very wet, more than ready, but he was large and didn't want to hurt her. Killian's hands splayed over her back, holding her up as she rocked in his lap, adjusting to his size, the feeling of being full.

"I knew you'd be hot," Killian growled low in his throat. Emma lifted up and slid back down, both of them sighing loudly. The drag of him along her walls was intoxicating; there was no way she would be able to stop at just one time. "Hot and so fucking tight."

Emma bit her lip; none of her previous lovers had been into dirty talk but she could feel herself getting wetter as he spoke. "Fuck," she swore. "Don't stop."

His hands flew to her hips, guiding her in his lap, adjusting the angle, all while murmuring all the things he'd imagined doing to her. Emma keened, trying to go faster, the pressure building and building. They found the spot with in her and she cried out. "There!" she cried. "God, right there. Please."

"That's it, love," he said, rocking his hips up into her as she drove down. "So gorgeous riding me."

Emma dug her fingers into his biceps, trying to hold on, but she was so close to her orgasm. "Killian, I'm...I'm gonna...god..."

"Let go, Emma," he hissed, gritting his teeth. "Let me watch you fall."

Emma clung to his neck as she came, walls clenching, toes curling with the intense pleasure. She was still fluttering as Killian put her on her back, plunging back in without warning. Emma yelled in surprise, quickly melting into a deep moan as more aftershocks shook her.

It took everything Killian had to hold on, to not follow her into oblivion. There wasn't much finesse to his strokes now, just pounding into her over and over. Emma didn't seem to mind, urging him on, bringing her legs high around his waist, locking her ankles. He slipped even deeper into her, bottoming out.

"Oh fuck!" Emma yelled. "I think...I think...shit!"

Killian wriggled a hand in between their sweat slicked bodies and found her swollen clit, rubbing it in hard circles. He would enjoy unlocking all of her secrets, everything that made her writhe and moan and scream in pleasure, but right now all he needed was this.

"Killian!" Emma screaming his name, walls clamping around him a second time, he surrendered to the high, whispering her name over and over as he went still, spilling himself deep within her. He collapsed on top of her for a moment, before mustering the energy to roll off. He didn't want to crush her. He lay awkwardly on his side until he could sort of breathe again. Only then did he get up and dispose of the condom.

Emma missed him as soon as he was gone, just the barest hint of a whimper. That was by far the best sex of her life; she'd never had two orgasms in one go before. She didn't even know she could have multiple orgasms. The cool air of the room made her shiver as the sweat dried; she had goosebumps on her skin. Emma managed to scoot over, dragging a pillow under her head. She caught Killian's eye and patted the bench for him to join her.

"How do you feel?" Killian said softly, stretching out beside her. He had to tuck his legs around hers since the bench didn't fit him.

"Pretty good, I think."

He scoffed. "You think?"

She took his hand, brushing his fingers over her lips. "Bit of an ego there, tiger?"

He laced their fingers together. "I've never felt anything like that. Better than I imagined."

Emma didn't think she could still flush, but she did anyway. "I know the feeling." They lay there for a long time, huddled together, the room getting cooler. But they didn't make any effort to cover themselves, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

Her eyes roved over his body, still taken aback by the lean strength. He was more toned and fit than she expected, even though she'd witnessed some of his strength first hand. She couldn't wait to explore him further. Killian moved his hand and her eyes were drawn to his hip.

"What's that?"

"What's what, love?"

"The tattoo." It was a tiny circle inked in black, surrounded by six oblong lines of various lengths, also black. It rested just above the V of his hips. She'd never seen anything quite like it.

"Ah. It's a symbol for imagination or so I was told."

"Told?"

"Had a few too many pints with my brother, years ago. We each came home with a tattoo."

"It's beautiful." She traced it with her fingertip, tucking his content sigh in her memory. She snuggled nearer to him, leeching his body heat.

Killian studied the contours of her face, memorizing her with a more intimate knowledge of her. She was starting to doze off; it was getting late. "Emma? Don't go to sleep yet, darling."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, love." He kissed her brow tenderly. "It's late though. Would you, ah, like to stay?"

"Stay the night?" Killian nodded. Emma opened her mouth to say no, but then wondered why. She already told Elsa not to wait up. If Elsa was even home herself. And Emma didn't have to work tomorrow. She was good on all her school work. And she was interested in exploring what she and Killian seemed to have embarked on this night. "Okay."

That one word transformed his face; he went from nervous to thrilled in a heartbeat. But then he sobered for a moment. "I have a guest room, if you'd rather..."

"I don't rather," she said firmly. "I'm going to live a little."

Killian looked adorably confused, but grinned anyway. She could explain later. And she was becoming increasingly sure they would have a later. He stood and held out his hand for her. She took it and let him lead her to his bedroom.