A/N: Two things: (1)This is the chapter where the rating changes, and (2) I'm not a smut writer...

Oh, right! Comments are so very appreciated...


She liked his apartment. She liked… that it had felt like a home. That had been something to get used to. The two apartments were nearly identical in makeup, but there was a distinction in what he had done with the place.

She hadn't expected that the first time she had come over. She remembered her initial shock and the reason for it.

Emma glanced across the room, her eyes resting on Killian with her son at the table. Their heads were both bowed, seemingly in deep discussion over the pictures that had been recently developed. It had been a passing hobby of Henry's, this photography thing. It was something that she had not thought that would hold his attention in the way that it had. But…

Killian had encouraged it. Killian had went the extra steps in offering resources to Henry. He worked with people whose profession was photography. He was always up to idea of exploring different places and different things to shoot to just further the craft.

Killian had bonded with her son. Had made a friend out of Henry. A friendship that had been separate from that of theirs.

The first time that she had come over, it had been with a heated misgiving and feelings of mistrust. It had been a blinder towards being able to appreciate everything that had been in front of her.

It was sudden, as she found herself deep in thought…

Killian's head turned, popping up and turning in her direction. There was something in those blue eyes. Something that she couldn't quite define as he winked at her.

He did something to her heart, she realized, watching as he turned his attention back to the table and the pictures.

When was she going to regret it? When was she going to realize that she was opening up too much to someone? When was it going to hit her that happiness and Emma Swan did not go hand and hand?

Was this right? Sometimes… sometimes, no…

Because she was Emma Swan. She was the woman who kept everything and everyone at a distance. She was the woman who knew that certain things weren't meant for her. That they couldn't be.

And then… Sometimes, yes…

Because he was Killian Jones. He was the man who had wanted nothing from her but… her. He made it seem as if she was enough. Doubts and fears and issues. She was enough. And he liked her. He really liked her.

Emma felt the chill run through her body at that thought. Scary.

Didn't he know her? He did know her. And… he liked her.

Emma wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tightly as she turned away from them. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room. She took in the paintings that hung there for more than just decoration. It was an expression of him. She took in the drawing books- she had already counted three in the room. Another part of Killian Jones.

So many facets to the man… And she… she liked them all.

Emma threw a quick look back over at him. And…

She was throwing caution to the wind. Sometimes it was easy to be alone. Sometimes, alone was the fate that she had been dealt. And then there were other times that she realized that alone was the fate that she had dealt herself. Killian made her feel as if it didn't have to be that way…

It was amazing whenever she let herself believe it as well as feel it…


"All done?"

The question made her sigh. She was sure that he hadn't meant anything explicit in his question. He had only wanted to know if she was finished with dinner. It was just that…

He was incredibly close while sitting on the couch next to her. Close enough for his shoulder and knee to bump against hers as he turned into her.

"Um…"

Emma's gaze slid from Killian to look at Henry. Where she would have normally discouraged the distraction of the iPad being out and used at the same time they were having dinner, she silently thanked God that he'd been focused somewhere else. Until he looked up at her from his seat in the chair across from them...

He only gave her a hint of a smile- it couldn't have been a knowing smile- before he turned back to the screen.

"All done," Emma sighed, turning back to Killian. "Yes, I am."

It was only her imagination that he was looking at her mouth. Or only her imagination that he was looking at her as if he wanted to kiss her right then and there.

He was still watching her. For a solid moment, he stared at her with a smile on his face. And then he moved.

"Then I'll clean all of this up."

Killian was grabbing at the empty containers spread out on the coffee table that were all left from the Chinese take-out.

"Unless you want to give me a hand, love."

His eyes slid back towards her, a twinkle and something else being found there.

Emma tried to ignore the way he said it. She tried to ignore the endearment that she knew was generic and used for everyone else. But it was the look on his face that had actually drawn her in. The look that made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had been looking at her mouth with thoughts of kissing her.

"Sure." She shook her head as she stood up from the couch.

"Oh." Killian straightened. "Can you grab my phone that was beside me? I can show you the pictures of Connor that Liam sent."

Emma turned then, finding the phone on the other end of the couch. She slipped it into the back pocket of her pants before moving to the table.

He'd already grabbed up most of the trash. It was a one-person job, she was sure. But, with just one more glance at Henry as he slid through windows on the iPad, she picked up the glasses and plates that he'd left.

It wasn't an everyday occurrence. It wasn't this thing where they needed to share dinner together as a threesome. But some nights…

It's why she had looked back at Henry. She knew that he liked Killian. She knew that they got along well. So what did it mean to be this open in front of him? What did it look like to everyone, involved or not, to see this setting?

Emma followed Killian as he led them into the kitchen. She might not know what it looked like on the outside, but from the inside it looked… It looked really nice from the inside…

She passed by him, moving slowly towards the sink, each step careful as she tried to make sure her mind didn't go anywhere that it didn't need to go.

She felt him slip behind her a moment before she felt his bearded cheek graze her own. His lips planted a quick kiss there, holding for all of a second.

"I've wanted to kiss you for an hour and forty-seven minutes now," Killian murmured softly into her ear.

If she let herself think about it, she tried not to let herself think about it, then Emma was sure that she would have been waiting just as long for that kiss.

Standing behind her, Killian placed a hand on the sink, trapping her between the two. It was the smallest things that got her heart to race…

Emma started to turn, but he stopped her with his other hand falling to her waist. It slid across to her back and began a trail farther down.

"Ah, here we go."

His phone slipped from her pocket then, grabbed up by him.

"I can show you the pictures."

It made Emma smile. It was a good thing that she hadn't let her mind wander any farther…

She finally turned around in his arms, still trapped by that arm that held on to the sink. It was with a shake of her head that she tried to clear her mind of invading thoughts. Thoughts of Killian.

He was close. Close enough to appreciate the stains of pink high in his cheeks. Close enough to make out that scare on his left cheek. How had he gotten it? She had yet to ask just yet. She was close enough to those pinker than pink lips that were pursed as he flipped through his phone. The same lips that had kissed her. The same lips that she had grown to know on an intimate level. She was close enough to make out the reddish hue of his beard. The same beard that always felt good under her hands and on her skin.

It was all of a sudden that he looked up at her. All of a sudden that he had turned those blue eyes on her.

A second passed. Then he smiled.

"What are you thinking about, Emma?"

She was slow to shake her head. "Nothing." Because it was a bit embarrassing to be fawning over the man. Just a man.

Killian watched her quietly. His eyes travelling over her face, pinpointing on certain spots.

Sometimes it felt as if he knew what she was thinking. And sometimes that wasn't a good thing. Emma was sure that there was now a tinge of pink in her own cheeks at that thought.

"To hell with the pictures," Killian murmured lightly. The phone fell on the counter next to the sink, and she was once again trapped in his arms.

His mouth fell over hers, kissing her softly.

It was the kiss she wanted. Hints of hunger hidden under the guise of propriety. Her son was a room away. Still… Her hands came up to stroke the hair-roughened cheeks that felt so good.

When did she become this person? Well… Emma always loved the idea of love…

She pushed that thought and him away. Not…

"I would like to see Connor," Emma said softly, turning her head away from him.

There was a low growl that escaped from somewhere down deep. And if she could leave him a little frustrated after having her own thoughts turn, well…

Killian's bottom lip was enveloped with his teeth, fighting back the urge to grin.

"Yeah, well."

He grabbed at the abandoned phone with a sigh. Unlocking the screen, the picture of baby Connor, in all his glory, appeared front and center.

That was all it had taken though. The smile of Killian's face was one of pride now as he looked down at the screen.

"Does it feel like nearly three weeks to you?"

That question had a lot of meaning to her.

That night had not only signified Connor's birth, but had signified a defining moment in their relationship.

Nearly three weeks ago…

"Yeah, it feels like it."

Had he picked up on something in her tone? Killian looked at her again, his eyes pinpointing once again.

Maybe it was from being this close to him. Maybe the amount of time that had passed had been inescapable, causing her thoughts to always be conflicted about it.

"I can see you in him," Emma said quietly. She looked down at the picture that had to have been taken within the last day or so. "Rather, he looks like Liam."

"Aye, I see a lot of Liam," Killian agreed. "A Jones, that is for sure."

He was wrapped up in nothing but a blanket. His eyes were closed in this picture, but Emma remembered the trait that was visibly Ruby's. They were green, like his mother's. The soft hair on his head was a sandy color. She wasn't sure which way it was going to go just yet. But it was the nose and the chin that could not be denied. Emma would agree: a Jones, for sure.

"Liam did it," Killian said with a laugh. "Secured a new generation."

"Proud uncle Killian, huh?"

He laughed again, flipping through the pictures.

"Proud Uncle Killian."

It was something about the way he laughed. It was something about the way he watched with a pride and happiness that couldn't be denied. It was the fact that family had been everything. He was genuine. True. Qualities that she…

"So Ruby asked about you." He looked up at her then, an eyebrow raising.

It made her squirm. That statement could have led to anywhere.

"She would love it if I brought you over with me to see Connor. You'll get to finally meet him in person. And see how amazing he is."

It was also the way he incorporated her into his life. It was with little effort. It was as if it was the most natural thing to do.

"I'd like that." She wouldn't second guess it. It would have been so easy to do the back and forth thing…

"Really?" Killian straightened up at that. Maybe it had been a pleasant surprise to him at how easy it had been.

It only made her cave in somewhat. Her shoulders hunched, closing in on herself.

"Really."

"Emma?" The smile on his face was small as he put the pictures of the baby away. The phone slipped into his own pocket then, and he turned that smile on her. "You know how I've told you that you sometimes blow my mind?"

He'd said it before…

"Yeah?"

"Well…" Killian's stretched his arms to entrap her again, pressing his body against hers. "You just did it again."

Emma felt it in her heart, the way it began to speed up. She spared the doorway to the kitchen only the quickest of glances before…

Her eyes closed, turning her face back into his. She felt the bump of his nose against hers, a soft caress that felt like… more. It was the fact that he took his time. It was because his lips ran across her cheek with silent… promises.

Sometimes it was hard to look back. Sometimes it was hard to deny that feelings were- no!- had come into play. Because here she was…

His lips were firm against hers. A kiss that promised and appreciated.

How had…

Emma would probably always question it. That was just who she was. But it didn't mean that her kiss couldn't be full of promises and appreciation as well.

She kissed him back. In the moment, she was able and willing to give as much as she received.


"I think I'm going to ask Dad about this camera."

Henry bounced down on her bed with iPad in hand.

"It's not too expensive, I don't think." He looked up at her from her spot by the dresser. "Not like some of the others. If I say that it's the only thing that I want, do you think he'd get it?"

Knowing Neal?

"I'm sure you can get him to get it for you," she assured him.

Although Henry didn't use it to his advantage, or at least he didn't abuse the idea of it, Neal was one of those parents who would have liked to fill the gaps of his absence with things if at all possible. So as a gift, she was sure that he wouldn't mind spending a little bit more to make his son happy from so many miles away.

Emma crossed her arms over her chest as she looked him over.

"You're having a lot of fun with all of this, huh?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah. And it's all because of Killian." He looked up at her then. "I'm really glad that things happened like they did."

That made her curious.

"What do you mean?" Even asking the question made her a bit nervous.

"I'm glad that you didn't make us stop talking and hanging out," he answered her innocently enough. "I didn't know if you were going to stay mad at him and never talk to him. But now?"

It was the way he had said but now…

"But now what?" Emma asked him.

"Now…" Henry rolled his eyes and the smile on his face was bigger than it should have been. "You two like each other. It's like you two more than like each other. Mom?"

Okay, now she was more than uncomfortable. Every time she thought that she saw herself letting him in a little more, she saw it as a positive. Except when she was confronted by it by someone else.

"Henry?" She said his name slowly. Carefully.

"I like him a lot better than I ever liked Walsh."

His statement came out of nowhere. The comparison of Walsh to Killian… It signified things that she knew her son must have been thinking. And she didn't know if she wanted him to be thinking of Killian in those terms. Because if Henry was thinking about Killian on the level that he'd thought of Walsh- and who Walsh had been in her life- then it would only intensify those thoughts in her own head.

"I can see why you would like Killian more than you liked Walsh, but there is really no comparison, Henry," Emma told him softly. "They are completely different and your situations with them are just as different."

"Okay, Mom," he told her softly. But, again, it was the way he had said it. As if he had already formulated his opinion on the matter. And that Emma wasn't going to blind him to what was right in front of them all.


10:07p.m.

What are you doing?

Nothing. Just getting out of the shower.

I was thinking about you.

What were you thinking?

Lots of things.

Sounds pretty vague.

Oh, not vague in the least.

I had a good time tonight.

So did I.

I hope we're not confusing my son.

Why would you say that? Did he say something?

Typical comments and questions, I guess, when we spend as much time talking as we do.

And what is the confusing part, Emma?

You know.

I've never had to explain my intentions of dating to someone before. Especially to a teenager.

Did you just put a title on us? "Dating."

Title? I would categorize it as the situation. Dating. Does that sound wrong?

Does it sound like too much?

Not when you put it like that.

Good.

I like dating you.

I like getting to know you.

I like a lot of things about you.

There is a lot more of me to get to know AND to like about me.

Am I supposed to be reading something into that? It sounds boastful.

But definitely not misleading.

Where's Henry?

He's asleep.

Sounds promising.

Why promising?

I want to hear your voice in my ear.

What does that have to do with Henry being asleep?

I want to be able to feel you at the same time your voice is in my ear.

Do you feel up to coming over for a while?

I'd love to hear your voice, too.

And what about being able to feel me at the same time, Emma?

I'd love that, too.

Give me five minutes?

The door will be open for you.


"Hey."

The door had been opened, but he was right there waiting for her.

It was something about the way he looked at her. There was a hint of guard about him. Not like hers. As if there was something that he had to keep at bay within himself.

There was a nervous tension running through her. It was because of… many things. Texting allowed meanings to be misinterpreted. She didn't know if she was misinterpreting him. Except his eyes seemed to agree. To agree with everything that she had wanted, but had been too afraid to commit to.

"You wanted to see me?" The question left her mouth quietly. The nervousness was only growing.

His eyes looked hungry. A quiet hunger that was far from sated. She could relate, because she felt…

They had been doing this dance for a long time now. He had been patient with her. Never pushing or suggesting. And she had appreciated it. Even in those moments where she knew it would have taken nothing but the tiniest push in the right direction.

"How are you doing?" Killian asked the question with a smile. He was unmoving, standing some feet away from her and the door.

"I'm…" There were many answers to that as well. "Fine."

His forehead crinkled at that response, and his lips puckered.

"I should be honest with you," he told her slowly. He nodded. "I can be honest with you, right, Emma?"

She took in a deep and involuntary breath of air.

"You should be honest with me," she agreed. "It's one of the things I like most about you."

Killian nodded again, slowly, as he stared at her.

"Honesty. Okay. Emma?" The frown deepened even more. "I'm a little less than fine."

She hadn't expected that response. A response that could have meant…

"What's wrong?"

Killian paused at the question, taking another moment to just watch her.

"The thing is..." The murmur was followed by a sweep of his thumb over his lip, before that hand fell out in front of her. "I want you."

Her chin lifted, taking in the solemnity of his tone. Because for all the ways that they had tiptoed around the idea since the end of their first date, he'd kept the fact that there was a want out of the equation. But…

It wasn't hard to see. It had never been difficult to see. So the need to be honest laid at her feet.

It had been a very long time for her. She had her pick of reasons. Didn't he understand what he was asking from her? Because she understood what she was asking of herself. She was asking herself to let someone new in completely. Because this would mean completely. Wholeheartedly. This meant no going back.

"I want you, too."

It was an admission that called for all bets to be off.

"Thank you."

It had rushed out of his mouth gutturally. There was a twinkle in his eye that disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared. It was replaced by that same fierce desire that had been there before. Only this time, there was no need for barriers.

He covered the distance between them in the matter of a second, his mouth finding hers and his hands reaching around and claiming her ass without a bit of hesitation.

Why had that taken her by surprise? Why had the energy he'd expelled in taking her surprised her?

Emma gasped into his mouth, shaking already as she returned his kiss. This was different. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, she tried to match his intensity, sliding around his neck and dragging him even closer. He was different.

Killian was always a body of hard muscle, but his arms felt like a steel vice as he held her against him. And he had never grabbed at her that way. His hands moving over her bottom, pressing her against his hardness.

She felt the nervous tension entering her body and her mind. It was the feel of a hand crawling inside the pajama bottoms. Crawling inside her panties. His hand was already roaming and cupping at her bare ass, dragging her over him, when that other hand dug inside. This one didn't follow the lead of the first. The elastic bands of both pajamas and panties were stretched out, no longer making contact with one side of her waist. The hunger of his kiss was distracting, but…

Emma felt the way both hands splayed over her hips, stretching the cloth all the more. They stayed just like that for a short moment, swaying her hips so that she brushed against that hardness.

She heard the sharp intake of breath as his mouth broke away from hers.

"Am I going too fast for you?" he murmured thickly, his lips a whisper against her skin.

Killian. She hadn't put on the brakes. She hadn't stopped him or them. It was him. He had stopped to ask if he was moving too fast. For her.

Emma shook her head, her eyes meeting his.

"No. We're not going too fast."

He watched her, to make sure. But she saw the fire in that gaze.

Emma brought her hand up to the back of his head, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. She watched as his eyes slid closed with a sigh on his lips, loving that she had an affect on him. She affected him. It was the thought she had as she brought his head down, taking his lips with her own, and kissing him.

What started out as slow, with each holding the other pressed to them, quickly heated up again. Heated up and spilled over into something more. Something that could no longer be contained.

A ravenous mouth sipped at hers. A hard as steel arm wrapped around her back. A quick and fluid hand pulled at the pajamas and panties together, pulling them down from waist and over hips. Before she had time to process the magnitude of all of those things, before her clothes had a chance to slip to her feet, she was being lifted. He was lifting her off her feet and into his arms.

Her eyes slammed shut at the feel of her back slamming into the door. God! Why did that feel so good? Why did gripping at his hips as he fit his body against hers feel so damn good? Why did the feel of one hand cupping her thigh as he kissed her breathless have her head swimming?

"Oh, damn."

She'd moaned it out loud, she knew. His answer had been a low growl and a thrust of his middle into hers. Did he have to fit so damned perfectly?

It was all of a sudden. Emma felt his fingers right there. The stiffening of her back as it pressed against the door and the tightening of her legs around his hips was instinctual. She wasn't a virgin. She wasn't virginal. It was just that… it had been so many years….

"Oh, Emma, you're…"

She was grateful that he hadn't finished that thought. She felt the blush creeping over every inch of her skin.

His mouth was back on hers, his kiss deep and intense. But it was difficult to concentrate just on that.

Her body was a betrayer. Her body had become an instant lover of his, because…

Her mouth opened in a gasp at the feel of his fingers against her. An insistent mouth had nothing on insistent fingers.

"I don't want to stop." The groan tore out of Killian as if the act of stopping would kill him instantly.

Why would he say that?

"Don't stop."

It was the only encouragement he needed. A finger slid just inside of her, and…

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, but the whimper couldn't be stopped. The shudder, as he slid his finger out and then back in even deeper, was uncontrollable.

Maybe he should have stopped. Maybe this was wrong. Because it felt too…

"Ooh!" It was a shuddered moan.

No, it was right. Never stop. Because it felt…

"Killian!" Her mouth shut tight, swallowing another moan that threatened to escape at the feel of his fingers.

"Emma, please."

There was an increasing amount of pressure building up inside of her. Too much pressure too soon.

"Don't hold back," he muttered. His hips were moving in time with the now two fingers that were pressing in and out of her. "Come for me… just like this, Emma. Please."

Why was he… God! So much pressure! God! It felt too good!

She felt it building up in her. She felt it already, with just his fingers sliding inside her over and over again. She felt the tremors beginning to take her over at the feel of his thumb caressing that sensitive nub at the same time.

"Killian!" It was a whimper of pure confusion.

"Yes, Emma." His face buried into the crook of her neck, pressing closer against her and into her at the same time.

Too deep. Too expertly.

"I… Killian!"

"Will you come for me, Emma?"

Why?

She gave up. She couldn't hold it back any longer (good girl, Emma). Feeling the way her eyes rolled to the back of her head(yes, Emma), hearing the cry leave her mouth(come just for me), she held on tight to him as the orgasm washed over every part of her (yes, Emma).

Why? The orgasm was intense, wracking her body with shudders and leaving her clenching over those fingers inside her. Leaving her clutching at every part of him that she could.

Killian, holding up the entire weight of her body, pressed her into the door. A smattering of incoherent words of praise was mumbled against her neck. A trail of kisses from ear to cheek followed.

God, what had he done to her?

"Killian?" Emma was slow to open her eyes. "Killian?"

"Yes?"

Taking in gulps of air, she waited until he pulled back to look at her.

"Emma?"

Slowly, and without any embarrassment(she refused to be embarrassed), she loosened her grip on his waist. Her eyes fell to a spot on his shoulder as she let herself slip down away from him, detaching her body from his. Refused still, as she felt her pajama pants that were pooled on the floor at her feet.

What in the hell had he just done to her?

"Love?"

Emma looked back up at him. His darkened eyes were scanning over her, his hands almost but not quite touching hers.

"Are you okay?"

He wanted to touch her. She knew that he wanted to touch her. She saw it in the slight tremor of his hands that were so close to her. She saw it in his eyes, which were a mix of lust and caution.

He was waiting for her.

"I'm okay." Standing there half naked in front of him, she was okay. Standing before him after he'd… She was sure that she was most likely glowing, as well as tingling, from what had just happened.

"Are you-"

Emma grabbed at his hands, pulling them around her waist. She stopped his question with a kiss. Holding on to him, her lips slipped over his, kissing him softly.

She wondered what the tremor in him signified. Had he feared that she would want to turn and run? Understandable, if so. But she didn't want to turn and run…

Her hands slid slowly up his arms, feeling the smoothness from over the steeliness.

"Don't stop, okay?"

"God dammit, Emma." The murmur was sandwiched between kisses, those arms closing around her and squeezing tight. Then his hands were on the move. They ran down her hips, digging into her firmly. Her name slipped from his mouth, over and over, as he caressed her.

The ache was starting all over again at the feel of his hands over her. Emma heard her own moans as her eyes squeezed shut.

"Emma."

Her hands came up to reach for him, before…

He began to turn her. The hands smoothing over her hips began to twist and turn her. His mouth fell over her neck, kissing his way to the back once he'd finally turned her completely around.

There was a nervous tension washing over her as she placed her hands, instead of on him, on the door. Her eyes opened just slightly, listening to the harried unbuckling on the belt, unfastening of the button, the pulling down of the zipper from behind her. They shut tight once more, with a rushing of air out of her body, as his arm closed around her waist and dragging her back against him.

If it hadn't felt so right, so good, would she have stopped him?

Killian. His hands. His mouth.

Emma whimpered at the feel of him against her. He was a man who could take charge, she mused, loving the way his grasped her arm and shackled it to the door with his own. Loving the feel of his weight as he leaned into her. Loving the way he nibbled at her ear…

The whimper was close to a cry now…

Three years…

And oh how quickly her body had betrayed her!

She pressed back, shuddering at once at the feel of him.

Three years…

And all she wanted was him…

All of a sudden, his arm stiffened around her waist. His mouth moved from her ear and pressed, instead, hard into her shoulder and pausing there. He pulled back away from her.

"Emma, I'm sorry."

He'd stopped to… apologize?

"What?" It was a moan of frustration. She wanted the weight of his body against her. And he had pulled away.

"I shouldn't have…" Killian's entire weight gone. His mouth disappeared from her shoulder, and his arms that had been around her waist and pressed against her own on the door were gone.

"It was just… that I needed you."

Emma, confused and feeling disheveled, turned back to face him.

"Then have me." It was a whine borne from needing more of him. She was in need of him. All of him. What had he done to her? Because she was in need to give all of herself.

Killian searched her face, his eyes locking on her. There was a string of curses that fell from his mouth as he grabbed at her hand.

"I don't want to stop. It's just…"

Emma felt her eyes widen in expectation. In wait.

"You deserve better than a rushed and heated moment against a door," he finally told her softly, pulling her into him.

And she could breathe again. Because he wasn't stopping.

"At least as a first time." Killian was able to offer her an easy smile before it turned into something else. Something much more than easy. "Come on."

Emma let him pull her away from the door. He wanted to take her to his bed. But…

"No."

Killian was quick to turn around to her.

"What?"

"Here," she whispered. "We're right here." Her eyes slid across on the couch that was only feet away versus rooms away. "I don't want to wait."

There was a question on his face, but a glint in his eyes.

"You, Emma Swan…" His arm was around her waist, pushing her back in the direction she wanted to go in. "Are a marvel."

Her smile was hidden in their kiss. A kiss that set her body off and yearning already.

"Damn… Emma?"

She felt the back of her legs bump up against the couch even as he spoke.

"What?" Her arms wrapped around his neck, ready and willing for him to lie her down on that couch with him following right after her.

"Promise me something, love." It was oddly grave. Important. Important enough to leave them hanging precariously over the couch.

"Promise what?"

His lips found hers, kissing her softly on their way down.

Soft kiss. Promising kiss. Aching kiss. A kiss that brought back memories of what he could do to her.

"Promise me…" Killian's hand gripped at her bare thigh, running the entire length of her leg. "That this isn't a one-time thing. Promise me that you will remember this tomorrow. No matter if it's by text, by phone call, or in person. Promise me you won't forget this."

Emma had watched him during the entirety of him sharing his request. She focused on his words and not the way his weight felt unbelievably wonderful. Or how it didn't matter that her pajama top reached to mid-thigh, but in reality she was half-naked and he was completely clothed. No. She focused on his words.

"I promise." She promised. Maybe too easily.

"God dammit, Emma." His mouth fell over hers then, pressing her down on the couch with his weight. "I'm holding you to that, love."

And that was scary. His needs.

She'd promised.

But for now…

Killian's mouth. His hands. His body. His moan.

He was an escape that every part of her needed.