Author's note: Just one update this week, just so you know. Thank you all for your continued support of this story! *hugs*
Disclaimer: I am Spartacus.
Chapter 11
"Hi, Mom," Emma said, hugging Ingrid tight.
"It's so good to see you, Emma," Ingrid replied, smiling into her daughter's hair. "I've missed you."
"Me too." She picked up her mother's carry on bag and started to lead them out of the tiny airport terminal. "The Bug's right out here; you must be tired."
"It's not that long of a flight, Emma," Ingrid scolded. "But it is nice to breathe fresh air."
They loaded her mother's bags into front of her Bug; Ingrid was only staying through Friday morning. She didn't like leaving her ice cream shop in the hands of her assistant for more than three or four days at a time.
"Elsa and I cleaned; she should have the fold out couch all ready for you. I've got class until five," Emma reminded Ingrid.
"How are your classes this semester?"
Emma buckled her seat belt and started the car. "Okay so far. I've got a couple of big papers coming up, but I'm spending a lot of time in the library." What Emma didn't say was that she was splitting her time between the library and Killian's house.
Ingrid frowned. "Anything else? Any parties or...dates?"
Emma carefully kept her face impassive. "I went with Elsa to one of the art department parties." There, that was the truth. "It was...fun."
"Just fun?"
"Yeah. Free food, some really nice art. Made a couple of friends."
Ingrid beamed. "That's wonderful, Emma!"
Emma made a point of changing the topic to how things were back at home; that kept Ingrid going until they returned to the apartment. She was running a little late, so she dropped her mom off then headed back to campus for class. She found it difficult to concentrate, even though she passed the first hurdle of Ingrid's visit.
After her morning class, she got a sandwich at the HUB, scarfing it down quickly before heading for the library. She was halfway there when her phone buzzed. Emma fished it out of her pocket. It was a text from Killian. Your mother arrive okay?
Emma smiled to herself. It was sweet of him to check. Rather than text him, she paused in the library lobby and dialed his number. "Emma?"
"Hey."
"I didn't expect you to call, love."
"I had a minute." And I wanted to hear your voice. "Mom arrived in one piece; she's at my place, hopefully resting."
"Hopefully?"
"Ingrid likes to do things, be active. She's used to spending all day at her ice cream shop."
"You didn't say anything about your mum owning an ice cream shop, lass," Killian mocked scolded.
"Oh yeah? What's your brother do then?"
"Structural engineer," Killian said promptly. "All you had to do was ask."
Emma laughed. "I guess we haven't had much time to talk," she teased.
"Oh, we've had time, love. We've just employed it in other pursuits."
Emma flushed, even though he couldn't see her. She enjoyed those other pursuits. Quite a lot. And they were good at them. "Speaking of other pursuits, how's my vase?"
"It's your vase now, is it?"
"You know what I meant."
Killian chuckled. "It's nearly dry enough for glazing. Would you like to do that or do you trust me?"
"I trust you," she said. "I'll leave that to the real artist."
Killian huffed. "Don't ever sell yourself short like that, darling. This piece wouldn't exist without you."
The passion and vehemence in his voice surprised her. But she promised him. They hung up not long after, as Emma went to find her favorite study carol.
Killian finished his lunch, then grabbed his gym bag. On the days he didn't have class and knew he wouldn't see Emma, he'd taken to working out for a couple of hours. He needed a release of pent up energy; his art wasn't quite enough now that he and Emma had taken their relationship to the next level. During the nights Emma didn't spend with him, he found he slept better if he had a nice tiring workout in the afternoon first. And judging by the way Emma tended to ogle him, she appreciated it too on some level.
After lunch the gym wasn't busy, most everyone back at work or in class. This suited Killian just fine; he really didn't want to draw unwanted attention. In the past, the female attention he got was just background noise, a nuisance. He wasn't looking for a relationship, having come out of such a broken one. He was polite but firm whenever someone mustered the nerve to ask him out, content with his healing heart and art.
Now all he wanted was Emma.
Based on what happened at the party, Killian could deduce that the attention he got—even though he did nothing to encourage it—made Emma jealous and uncomfortable. Privately, he did get a little thrill out that. It was definitely a stroke to his ego and he was still a man, after all. But he never wanted Emma to doubt that she was enough for him. He didn't want anything else.
Instead, as he did his repetitions and logged time in the gym's pool, he imagined all the things they could do together once they no longer had to hide. Their relationship was new, yes, but Killian was bursting to do couple things, like take her out for dinner. Catch a movie and neck in the theater. Introduce her to his brother and sister in law. Meet her friends, perhaps even her mother.
Premature? Perhaps. But Killian couldn't help but want it. He wasn't accustomed to doing things halfway; he jumped in with both feet. He suspected Emma was the same way. Making a decision, agonizing. Once made, they were committed. Fighting his attraction to her had been so difficult. But he'd have continued to do so if she hadn't felt the same way about him. He was simply thankful that she did.
After his workout, he took a shower, dosing himself in the warm water. He tried not to think about Emma, spending time with her mother. It had only been a little over twenty four hours since he'd seen her, but he missed her. And he wouldn't be seeing her until the next day. Perhaps they could steal a moment after the morning class.
Killian checked the drying vase again when he returned home. The clay was setting up nicely. The piece had a bit of an unusual shape, a bit...wobbly at the top, but he liked it that way. By the end, he'd been thoroughly distracted and horny, so it was little wonder that his hands were unsteady. Let it stand as a testament to how much they needed each other.
He already had ideas about other ways to do that via art. Emma seemed to have no qualms about getting a little...dirty.
"Ugh, get a grip, Jones," he scolded himself. "She's not here."
Shaking his head to clear the daydream, he got the broom and started to sweep the floor of his studio. Emma was spending quite a bit of time in his home, the least he could do was keep it clean. He cleaned other rooms, stripped his sheets (even though Emma's scent lingered), wiped down the kitchen. After that, he took a break, gulping down some water and flopping on his couch.
He glanced at the clock; it was three in the afternoon. Eight in England. On a whim, he called his brother. "Killian?"
"Hello, Liam."
"What did you do?"
"Do? Why would I have done something?"
"You almost never call, brother. I have to call you."
"I call."
"You're busy, remember?"
Killian sighed. "Nothing's wrong. I just...felt like calling. But if it's an inconvenience..."
"Don't you dare hang up, Killian Jones," a new voice said. "I've got a bone to pick with you."
Killian groaned inwardly. This wouldn't be good. "Hello, Molly! How's the wee one?"
"Me and the baby are fine," the usually kindly voice snapped. "Liam says you're not coming for Christmas."
"I never actually said 'no' definitively, Molly. Ask Liam."
"No, you just gave me the usual song and dance about being 'busy,'" Liam griped.
"I am busy," Killian reiterated.
"With what? The semester will be over by then, I checked," Liam argued.
"You do realize I live alone?"
"So what? Do you have a pet that needs feeding or something?"
"No..." Back when Liam originally asked him, Killian had no desire to go. England wasn't home any longer. He felt a bit guiltier after finding out Molly was pregnant, but still couldn't make himself go. Now that he had Emma...it was even more complicated. He wanted her to meet them, but it would be the holidays. She would surely want to spend that time with her family. Besides, how would Liam feel being introduced to someone that—to his knowledge—Killian would only very recently started dating? It was enough to give him a headache. "Look, I'll do my best, yeah? It's just too early to tell."
"Well, you better decide soon," Molly warned. "Flights will be outrageous."
"They already are," Killian pointed out.
"I just want to see my favorite brother in law," Molly replied.
"I'm your only brother in law," Killian said dryly.
"All the more reason for you to come. You can bring your lady friend."
Killian's eyes shot wide with alarm. Then he calmed. "Liam float you that cock and bull story too, lass? You should know better."
"Despite what you think, you deserve to be loved," Molly said simply. She was the person who had come closest to divining why he left England so abruptly. She was a kind, sympathetic soul, his brother's wife. Liam was very lucky.
I am, he thought. Or he hoped he was. Hoped that Emma could feel that way about him one day. Sometimes he caught her looking at him when she thought he couldn't see and he thought...maybe he could see it in her eyes. He knew her feelings—whatever they were—were very strong. She liked being close to him, had no qualms about showing her affection when they were alone. But part of him couldn't help but wonder if she'd feel the same way if they didn't have to hide. Was it just the thrill of the forbidden that she wanted? He was in so deep now...not being with her would crush him.
"If you say so, Molly," he said. "It's late, I'll let you guys go."
"Hold on a minute," Liam said. He switched the phone off speaker. "How are you, Killian? Really?"
"I told you. I'm fine. Happy. You?"
"Well, Molly's dad is still in one piece, so that's good."
"You know they're only trying to help, brother."
Liam sighed. "I know. But sometimes..." He paused. "Dad left, Killian. You were young, you don't remember."
"I remember enough. Liam, you're not Dad. You'd go to hell and back for that child. You did for me."
Liam let out a dry laugh. "Thanks, brother. I needed that."
"Molly's parents will figure that out soon enough. Just be patient, okay? No more late night benders if the old man annoys you."
"Already done. But I appreciate the reminder."
Killian laughed. "It's what I'm here for. Good night, Liam."
"Night, Killian."
As good as it was to talk to his family, the call left him more unsettled than anything. There was only one other thing that could clear Killian's head. He marched back to his studio and started to draw.
Emma left the apartment forty five minutes early on Wednesday morning. She'd spent the evening with Ingrid and Elsa; she had to admit the girl time was fun. But she missed Killian fiercely. It surprised her. She thought about calling him when they got home, but it had been very late. He was probably already asleep. She just resolved to get to campus early, so they could at least talk before class.
The door was unlocked when she arrived. No one was there yet, so she plopped herself down in Killian's seat. She busied herself with transcribing some of her notes, waiting for him.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite lass," Killian drawled when he came in.
Emma's head snapped up, a smile already on her lips. "Hey you."
Killian hurried to the desk, casting a furtive look to make sure they were still alone. Then he brushed a kiss to her lips. Emma hummed happily. "Good morning, love."
"Morning to you too." She chanced holding his hand as he leaned on the edge of the desk beside her. Their joined hands were out of sight. "Good day?"
"Better now. How are things with your mum?"
"Ingrid is...Ingrid. First thing she did when she got here was ask if I was seeing anyone."
Killian stroked her hand with his thumb. "Liam is still convinced I've got a 'lady friend'," he informed her.
She sighed. "I know we can't tell them, but this is exhausting."
He squeezed harder. Those words comforted him. "I know, lass. But it won't be for much longer."
"Speaking of which, I was wondering..." Emma dropped his hand like a hot potato and started to rummage in her bag. Killian was startled, but soon heard people approaching as well. He stood and busied himself with preparing the day's lesson.
He set up the chaise for her; they were continuing their study of light and shadow. Killian found it best that he avoid looking at her until after the lesson began; he was less likely to be as affected. He would always be affected by her on some level; he wasn't that naive. He and Emma had a connection, had from the moment they met. The trick now was not letting other people see it.
So he typically waited a good five minutes before turning around and facing her, ostensibly so he could observe his students' work. Instruct where necessary. He spent a good half of his time staring at Emma, memorizing some aspect of her that he wanted to capture on paper later. Sometimes he caught her eye and grin at the flush that rose on her cheeks. It was faint, but it was always there. Their shared intimacy was potent, even from across the room.
Emma was glad they were falling into a rhythm for his classes. She still felt that pull, but she was getting better at controlling it around other people. She was still ticked off that she hadn't gotten to ask her question before. It was something Elsa had mentioned the night before at dinner; she immediately grasped it as an opportunity for them to be out and about without getting caught. There was a large Halloween party on campus every year; Emma had only attended once, in her freshman year. She'd gone with Neal. This party was sponsored by the Greek houses, so it was very popular. And attendees typically wore masks.
Killian was young enough to pass for a student, especially behind a mask. It was perfect.
He called for break halfway through class. "Was there something you wanted to ask?" He whispered as he marked her place. She shivered as his hands lightly stroked her skin.
"Later," she whispered back. "You have plans after class?"
"No." His eyes lit up. "My office?"
Emma's eyes snapped to his; she saw the fire there. "Yes."
The second half of class wasn't quite so calm; Emma remembered quite well Killian's desire to have her in his office. She caught herself fidgeting under his intense gaze; several students glared at her. Emma blushed and stopped, trying to warn Killian with her eyes. He smiled at her, the bastard, and went on his way, bending over a student's work, giving her a rather nice view of his ass.
Emma remembered at the last second not to roll her eyes (even though she appreciated the view).
As soon as Killian ordered them to pack up, Emma dashed for the screen to get dressed. She grabbed her bag and climbed down, waiting for the last of the stragglers to leave. She stood by Killian's desk, pretending like she needed to ask him a question. The final girl left and Killian stomped around the desk, almost swooping down her and kissing her once quickly.
"Killian!" Emma hissed.
"Sorry, love. I needed that."
Emma softened. "I know how you feel."
He slug his satchel over his shoulder. "Ready?"
Emma started to nod but there was a knock on the door. They both looked at the same time and Emma's jaw dropped. "Mom?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," Ingrid said. "I was hoping we might have lunch together?"
It took every ounce of control Emma had not to panic. There was no evidence Ingrid had seen anything untoward. "Yeah, sure. We were just finishing up." She stepped between her mother and Killian. "Mom, this is Professor Killian Jones. I've been modeling for his class this semester. Professor Jones, this is my mom, Ingrid Frost."
Killian didn't miss a beat. He held out his hand. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Frost. Emma's told me about you."
Ingrid smiled, shaking Killian's hand. "Good things, I hope?"
"Aye."
"Funny, I haven't heard a word about you. You teach art?"
"Aye. Came here from England several years ago. Emma's one of the finest models I've had the pleasure to work with."
"That's wonderful to hear. Emma's always been a hard worker. My beautiful girl," Ingrid said fondly. "Well, it's been a pleasure meeting you, Professor."
Emma looked at Killian; she could see the disappointment in his eyes. She felt it too. But it was too much of a close call for them to linger. They said their goodbyes and Emma led Ingrid out toward the HUB.
"Mom, how did you know where I was?"
"Elsa told me. Why didn't you say say anything about modeling?"
Emma shrugged. "It's not a big deal. Just earning some extra money for that internship. It's only a few hours a week, fits around my schedule."
"Well, I'm very proud of you, Emma. Finding a way all on your own. And that professor's certainly cute!"
Emma's eyes widened. "Mom?"
"I only meant that you could have gotten stuck with pudgy balding man, Emma. Calm down."
Emma was wary all through lunch. But it really did seem like Ingrid hadn't seen anything. Emma's lie detector didn't ping or twitch or anything. Not that she actually asked "did you see my boyfriend kiss me" but she'd picked up enough in her classes to skirt the issue without tipping Ingrid off.
It wasn't that she didn't want Ingrid to know. She did. Ingrid was a mixture mother/big sister. Before Elsa, Ingrid was the person Emma was closest to. But given their current status and Emma's history with Neal, she thought it best until they weren't actually breaking any rules before informing her mother. It was only a few more weeks, she reminded herself.
Later, when Emma was safely in her room and the door locked, she finally called Killian. "Hey."
"How is everything, love?"
"I think we're still good."
"Truly?"
"I don't think she saw us. If she did, she would have asked me. But she does think you're cute."
Killian's jaw moved but no sound came out. "Uh, come again?"
"My mother," Emma said slowly, "thinks you are cute."
Killian let out a breath. "I'm hoping I should be flattered by this?"
Emma laughed. "Yeah. Definitely flattered."
"I'm sorry for endangering us like that, Emma," he said more seriously.
"It's okay. We're still figuring things out. We've only been doing this for a week and a half."
"Feels longer."
Emma wet her lips. "Yeah." Long pause. She didn't want to hang up. "Killian?"
"Yes?"
"Remember that thing I was trying to ask you?"
"Aye. What is it?"
"You know the Greek Halloween party?"
"I've heard of it."
"Well, they wear masks and stuff and I was wondering if...maybe...you'd like to go. With me. Well, not with me, with me, because that would be obvious, but we could meet there? Christ, I'm rambling, please stop me."
Killian laughed. She was so adorable when she was flustered. "I'd love to go with you, lass. But as you said...meeting there. While wearing masks. Do you think that will work?"
"Well, it's pretty crowded. And I bet you could pass for a student if you wanted to. Plus, you know, the mask."
"Then I am at your disposal, Emma."
Emma was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. They were going on a date...of sorts. "Well...I guess I'll see you Friday?"
"Aye. Bright and early."
"Okay." She still wasn't hanging up. God, she was becoming one of those girls.
"Emma?"
"Yeah?"
"Happy birthday, sweetheart."
"Emma, are you okay?" Ingrid asked.
Emma frowned in concentration, trying to focus on the damn grappling hook. She thought this would get easier as she got older; evidently she was wrong. "Yeah," she said absently. "I'm fine."
"You've been acting odd ever since I got here."
Emma pressed her lips together...one more inch...then... "Yes!" she cried, trapping the little stuffed toy.
Ingrid grinned. "Do you remember the first time we did this?"
Emma bent down to retrieve her prize. "At that fair. You told me you were going to adopt me." She handed the stuffed bear to her adoptive mother. "Best day of my life."
Ingrid looked a little teary. "I knew. The moment I saw you. I wanted us to be family."
"We are." Emma frowned, cocking her head. "Is this some empty nest thing? What's wrong?"
Ingrid hugged the bear, guiding Emma to the next game for them to play. This was their birthday tradition, playing arcade games and eating junk food. Ingrid sighed. "I guess I still see you as that little girl sometimes, Emma."
"Mom, I was fourteen, hardly a little girl."
"And now you're twenty three. A semester away from graduating college."
"I'd have never been able to do any of this without you." Emma picked up one of the weighted balls and tossed it up the ramp. Skee ball was one her favorite games.
Ingrid laughed. "I don't know about that. You were quite resourceful, even then. I think you would have succeeded at whatever you put your mind to."
Emma finished her turn and swapped. She took a sip of her soda before replying. "I still have to get into law school."
"You will." Ingrid tossed a ball. "Any idea which one you want to go to?"
She had a short list, but she hadn't given the topic much thought since she started dating Killian. Quite a few of them were far away. Obviously letting a brand new relationship cloud her decision was a bad idea. "Well, I doubt I could get into Harvard or Yale. But there's Dickinson, Stanford, Michigan. Even Penn."
Ingrid frowned. "Stanford's in California."
"I know. But that's kind of like Harvard. Almost impossible to get in. But I thought I'd apply anyway, just to see."
"You know I'll support you no matter what."
Emma smiled. "Yeah, I know."
They played a few more games before pausing for dinner. Emma had a burger and onion rings, Ingrid pizza. It was a challenge to keep a straight face, since the last time Emma had pizza, she and Killian had just as sex on his couch. A challenge, but Emma managed it. They talked about other things, Ingrid's sisters, upcoming Thanksgiving plans, the ice cream shop. Emma was doing quite a bit better than other people she'd gone to high school with, if Ingrid's stories were accurate.
After their meal, one of the staff brought out an oversized cupcake. It had a single candle. Emma blushed as a small group of people sang "Happy birthday" while Ingrid beamed. She hastily blew out the candle to great applause.
"Did you make a wish?"
She hadn't, but Ingrid didn't need to know that. "Of course."
"Don't tell me or it won't come true!"
Emma cut the cupcake in half, giving the other half to Ingrid. "What do you wish for?"
"I always want the same thing, Emma. For you to be happy."
Emma's insides squirmed. She really wanted to tell Ingrid the truth, to let her know that she'd taken a chance and really was happy. But she couldn't. She didn't want Killian to get into trouble. They only had a few more weeks, then they were free. She just hoped Ingrid would forgive her when the time came.
They finished the cupcake, just chatting. Then Emma dragged her mother off to play more games, hoping to distract both of them.
Emma loved spending time with Ingrid, but she was glad when Ingrid left Friday morning. Emma dropped her off at the airport for her early morning flight. They hugged with promises to call often. It would be easier to keep her secret with her mother miles away instead of breathing down her neck.
"Don't forget to have a little fun," Ingrid reminded her.
Emma nodded. "Does a Halloween party qualify as fun?"
"Definitely. I'll call as soon as I land, okay?"
"I might be in class. Just leave a message." They hugged one last time. "Bye, Mom."
"Bye, Emma. Love you."
"Love you too." Emma released her mother and watched her disappear inside the terminal. She headed back to the Bug; she only had about forty five minutes to get to Killian's morning class. Emma smoothed down her new skirt (a birthday gift from Elsa) as she slid inside the car.
She found a parking spot with twenty minutes to spare and hurried to the art building. Her heels clacked on the concrete; they forced her to stand up straighter. Her legs were covered in goosebumps but she hadn't wanted to bother with pantyhose. She'd just have to take them off when she got to class. It was a miracle Ingrid hadn't found out precisely what sort of modeling Emma did for Killian, because she didn't think Ingrid would think he was cute after that!
Killian was there when she arrived. He opened his mouth to speak before getting a proper look at her. He clapped it shut as his eyes roved over her from head to toe. "You, ah, look nice."
Emma tossed her coat on his desk. "Birthday gift."
"I hope you thanked them properly, lass."
Emma remembered Elsa's conspiratorial grin when Emma opened the package. She knew exactly for whom Emma would wear such a thing. She stepped closer to Killian; they were still alone. "I did actually. You like it?"
Killian swallowed and nodded. He swore one of these days her beauty would kill him. At least it was a good way to go, death by beautiful woman. He reached out and touched her bare leg, just above the knee. "Very much."
Emma's skin warmed where he was touching her, her body responding automatically. It wasn't a very sexual touch, but they'd been apart for nearly five whole days. She definitely wanted him.
They stayed like that, close but not too close, staring, until the first arrivals echoed in the hall. Emma sighed and grabbed her things, heading for the screen. She needed to pull the mess of curls up off her neck before class started.
Killian took a series of deep breaths. After the close call on Wednesday, he'd left Emma alone, allowing her to spend time with her mother unimpeded. He distracted himself by glazing their pottery project and taking it to the school kiln for firing. He held office hours. Met with a few colleagues for department meetings. Worked out until he was exhausted and went to bed early. He woke up that morning with a spring in his step because he knew he'd be seeing Emma.
He just hadn't expected her to set his heart racing in a skirt and heels. The skirt wasn't even that scandalous, coming down to just past mid thigh. But the heels gave her legs for miles and he couldn't tear his eyes away. Unbidden, an image of those legs wrapped around his hips, heels digging into his ass rose. He squashed it; there was still a class to teach.
A class where Emma would be nude.
Cursing silently, Killian stood, his back to the platform. He heard, rather than saw, Emma step out from behind the screen. He was very attuned to her movements, even with his back turned. He called the class to order.
"Over the next few weeks," he began, "we will start preparing you for the final project in this class. A piece rendered over several sessions with close observation of detail. When completed, your work will be hung and displayed, as you would find in a real gallery. Any questions?"
"How will you choose which pieces are hung?" a female student asked.
"All of them will, Miss Foster. Did I not make myself clear?"
Emma had to stifle a giggle. Foster was one of the fangirls. Not that Killian ever noticed things like that. She breathed in through her nose so she wouldn't laugh.
"That is, of course, weeks away. Today I would like you to focus on how light and shadow play with your perception. If you have any questions, I shall be observing." He turned and stepped up onto the platform, adjusting the lights as Emma removed the robe and slid onto the chaise. Her pose wasn't quite what he wanted so he manipulated her body to demonstrate what he was looking for. Emma suppressed a shiver, wondering just who he was fooling. Then again, he'd probably done this with other models.
She scowled.
Killian raised a curious brow, but said nothing. He stole a barely there stroke of her breast before leaving, allowing the class to begin.
Emma followed him with her eyes, noting the artfully mussed hair, the perfectly trimmed scruff. As usual, Killian's sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms. He gestured a lot with his hands, murmuring quietly to someone. Her mother may have thought Killian merely cute, but he was sex on legs and Emma needed this class to be over as soon as possible.
Killian kept moving around the room, hoping his feigned interest in teaching would hide the yearning he felt. Emma appeared to be perfectly composed but he could see the want in her eyes. Her nipples were hard, but he couldn't tell if that was arousal or chill. They'd been unable to share more than fleeting touches in many days; he hoped she needed him as much as he needed her.
By the end of class, Emma was nervous and jerky, hurrying to dress. She fumbled a bit with the zipper of her skirt, the buttons of her blouse. If they didn't go to his office, she would have to go home and take a very cold shower. She hadn't been this aroused since their first night and he hadn't even touched her.
"Miss Swan?" Killian asked, as she came down, coat in hand. There were still a couple of people in the room.
"Yeah?"
"Might I have a word? We should discuss your role over the next several weeks."
She took a deep breath and nodded. "Sure, okay." She nodded at the stragglers and shrugged into her coat. She and Killian left, neither daring to walk too close. Emma could still feel the air crackling around them. Their warm breathing clouded the air.
They walked across the grass, looking neither left nor right. Emma followed him into the building and down the stairs to his office. Killian furtively checked the hall and led Emma inside. Then he closed and locked the door.
"Bloody hell," he gasped, leaning his forehead against the door.
Emma tossed her bag and took off her coat. "Killian?"
He rounded on her, his eyes dark and hooded. "Never again," he said in a low growl. "We're not going that long again."
Emma boldly stepped forward, hands on his chest. "That long for what?"
Killian's large hands spanned her waist, leaning in until they were nearly chest to chest. "Don't play coy with me, love. I know you feel it."
Her hands moved over the smooth cloth, molding to his defined chest. Her mouth inched closer to his, he could feel her breath on his skin. "Feel what?"
Killian let out a strangled moan and closed the gap, kissing her hard. Emma mewled in pleasure, pulling him closer. Or trying to. There was no space between them as they devoured each other's mouths.
"I need you, love," he gasped between kisses. "Right here."
"Yes," she breathed, fingers twining in his hair, relishing the feel of the dark thick stands between them. "Oh yes, Killian."
He plucked at the buttons of her blouse, groaning when he saw the black lace. "All this for me?"
She nodded. "I didn't want to wait. Missed you."
Killian backed her toward his desk, large hands fondling his lace clad breasts. "Missed you too," he mumbled, mouth lowering to the swell of her breast. He licked and sucked, teeth scraping the skin. He normally couldn't leave marks on her, as much as he wanted to. But the weekend was approaching, so he chanced a small light one. Emma keened, burying her head in his shoulder to stifle the sound.
Emma already had her legs spread, hitched up on his hips, wantonly grinding herself against the bulge in his pants. She could feel how hard he was through the layers, hear the little hitching sound he made when she rubbed him just right. "Killian...oh god...please. Need you."
He hitched her skirt up around her waist, jerking her panties off. He stuffed them into his pocket as Emma worked getting his pants open. He couldn't stop the groan when she freed him, her hand deftly stroking him to greater hardness, if that were possible. He already felt like he would explode from want.
His fingers found her slit, slipping effortlessly along the sensitive flesh. Emma bit back a moan, hips rocking into his touch. She was incredibly wet, desperate to feel him inside. He slipped two fingers in her wet heat and she keened. "Fuck, you're so wet."
"Hurry," she pleaded. She didn't know how long they would have even with the locked door. Killian snatched the condom from his pocket, then pushed his pants down. He tore it open with his teeth, rolling on the barrier efficiently. She urged him on, clutching at his shoulders as he pushed in deep. "Oh! Oh, oh, oh yes."
Killian groaned, holding her tighter by the hips. "This won't be gentle," he warned, still trying to hold himself back. He needed her too badly for gentleness.
"I know," she panted, wrapping her legs firmly around his hips. "Fuck me, Killian."
Just like that the tenuous thread snapped and he took her, deep powerful strokes that should have had her screaming his name. Emma stuffed her fist in her mouth to keep from crying out, her walls pulling him back every time he withdrew. He pushed her flat on her back, hips rutting into hers harder and faster, like he was trying to imprint himself on her body. Emma met him stroke for stroke, spiraling closer and closer to the release she needed so badly.
He jerked his hips, seeking her sweet spot. Emma's whole body shuddered when he found it; she yanked him down and fused their mouths together to muffle her cries. She gasped as she fell over the edge, her orgasm coming in waves. Killian fucked her through it, snarling, gritting his teeth. He shuddered and jerked, muttering her name as he emptied himself inside her.
Killian laid his head on her chest, still buzzing from his high, but a bit ashamed at his lack of control. He hadn't really meant it to happen this way. Emma sensed his unease, stroking his hair. "You okay?" she asked.
"I feel like I should be asking you that, love."
He felt her lips on his brow. "That was amazing."
Killian raised his head, pleased to see her sated blissed out expression. "Aye?"
"Yeah." She coaxed his lips to hers, kissing him sweetly. "I think I can make it through the rest of the day now."
Killian chuckled low in his throat. "I was doing quite well until someone showed up in a short skirt and heels."
"And who would that be?"
"You." Killian moved to stand up, pulling Emma with him until she was sitting up. They worked at straightening their clothing, just in case anyone happened by. Killian returned her panties rather reluctantly, but she couldn't very well run around without them in the cold. Task accomplished, he sat in his chair, Emma perched in his lap.
"So how was your week?" she asked, lightly scratching the nape of his neck.
Killian purred, a bit like a cat. He'd have been embarrassed if it didn't feel so good. "Long," he said truthfully. "But I got a few things accomplished."
"Like what?"
"Oh, this and that. Your vase is ready. And I got you a present."
Emma frowned. "You didn't have to..."
"Well, it's not something I bought, exactly. And it's your birthday. Well, was. I wanted to celebrate it."
Emma blushed. "I think we kinda did."
Killian smirked. "While I appreciate you indulging one of my many fantasies, love, I did have something more tangible in mind."
Emma cocked her head, curious. "What is it?"
He gave her a little push and she stood. She moved back, watching eagerly as he bent over his desk and pulled out a large rectangular shaped...thing. It was wrapped in colorful paper with a red ribbon. He handed it to her and she had to prop it on the chair to tear it open. Her jaw dropped.
"Oh Killian...it's...thank you so much!" She put the framed canvas down hastily and threw her arms around him. He grunted a little under the force of her hug, smiling all the same.
"I'm glad you like it, darling."
"Like it? It's something you made, I love it." He'd gifted her the ocean sunset she loved so much, now in a beautiful wood frame. She knew how he felt about his work; she understood what it meant to him, to give her this.
And that was the moment. Emma realized with startling clarity that she loved him. It wasn't the gift. He didn't have to give her anything but himself, which he did...so effortlessly. He opened his heart to her, his home, his art. He'd just given her a piece of himself and she loved him for it.
She didn't want to say anything and ruin the moment, so she kissed him. A sweet loving kiss, one that she hoped conveyed the weight of what she was feeling. Killian held her close, wishing he could freeze the moment.
"We've probably lingered long enough," he said, a bit sad.
Emma sighed. "Yeah."
"Will I see you soon?"
"Technically, you'll see me after lunch."
"You know what I meant."
Emma nodded. "I've got a shift at Granny's tomorrow morning, til about four. After that? I'm all yours."
"Another Sunday off? Is that a sign of the apocalypse?"
"I may have asked for this one," Emma admitted. "And Ruby owes me a favor."
"Well, however it happened, I'm thrilled to have you all to myself."
"We can pick out Halloween costumes!"
Killian pretended to groan. "Aye, that ruddy party."
"Well, if you don't want to go..."
"Emma, I was teasing. My only regret is that I can't claim you as my date properly."
Emma squeezed his hand. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy the perks of such a situation."
"And what perks would those be?"
"I guess you'll just have to wait and see."
