Chapter Eight
Emma was exhausted. A long night spent with the constant distraction of temptation slumbering peacefully behind her had made sleep elusive. When she finally had fallen asleep - after spending more hours than she'd care to count watching Killian sleep, her fingers itching to trace the lines of his face, brush their way down his neck, scratch through his chest hair, and follow its trail until it tapered at his abdomen, perhaps even exploring a bit lower, teasing the band of his boxer briefs and risking waking him up when her hand slipped past the barrier so she could wrap her hand around him - her dreams had been consumed with images of her and Killian making good use of the luxuriant bed they were currently sharing, which left her feeling restless upon waking.
Which she was doing with Killian's warm, solid chest against her back and his rough, calloused hand idly skimming over her stomach and down her leg. His hard, thick cock was pressed into the cleft of her ass, and she couldn't help the soft moan she released in her half-awake state when he rocked his hips forward ever so slightly while pulling her hair away from her neck, trailing hot, wet kisses from the juncture of her shoulder up towards her ear.
"Morning, love," he rasped into her ear. The deep sultry gravel of his voice nearly set her blood on fire, but before she could roll over and greet him the way her body was begging her to, a firm knock sounded at the bedroom door.
"Your breakfast has arrived, Mr. Jones," Hyde muffled through the door. "A packet was dropped off for Miss Swan this morning, and you have your first meeting in an hour."
Killian groaned and rolled onto his back. "Aye," he called out. "Thank you, Mr. Hyde." Turning his head toward Emma, Killian gave her a lazy smile, his eyes still sleepily hooded. "Why don't you go eat before it gets cold, love," he suggested. "I'll hop in the shower and join you for a quick bite before my meeting."
Wetting her lips, Emma pulled the lower between her teeth, then had to bite down hard to keep the self-satisfied and slightly smug grin off her face when he groaned again and reached beneath the covers, clearly adjusting his stiff cock. Having some sympathy for him, Emma sat up and threw back the covers, reaching for her robe as she got out of bed.
"Give me a quick minute, then the bathroom is all yours," she told him.
He was still lying in bed when she emerged, typing on his phone with his brows pinched together and a hard line at his lips. Making her way into the lounge area of the suite, she found breakfast already tabled, waiting under cloches with a manilla envelope laying beside one of the plates. Emma had only made it through half of her meal and a page of the envelope's contents when Killian joined her, impeccably dressed in a three piece suit, sans tie.
"What have you there, Swan?" he asked, nodding towards the papers in her hand as he took his seat across from her and proceeded to pour himself a cup of coffee.
Emma swallowed her eggs, and the lust that had been building in her all through the night and morning, and choked out, "The information I asked Jefferson for."
"Anything of interest?"
"Not yet," she answered, letting the firm footing of business guide her libido back onto solid ground. "I'd like time to really go over it, enter it into the models I've already created, so I can get a sense of the bigger picture."
Killian nodded, but the muscle at his jaw flickered a few times, indicating his impatience at having to wait for answers. "You'll have all afternoon," he reminded her, running down the day's itinerary as he picked at his plate and sipped his coffee. "I'll be in meetings most of the day, but business should wrap up in plenty of time for tonight's festivities."
The festivities being a lavish event on the casino's high-roller level, featuring drinks, decadent hors d'oeuvres, dancing, and, of course, high stakes gambling. It was a black tie affair, and Emma wouldn't deny she was somewhat eager for Killian's reaction to her gown, to say nothing of her own anticipation of seeing him in a tuxedo.
"What sort of meetings are they?" she asked, noting the hitch in his brows in response to her question. She didn't usually get into the ins and outs of the business unless it was in some way connected to a lead she was following, and had never asked for specifics from Killian directly, but if she was going to play the role of his girlfriend, she probably ought to be informed of what all he was there to accomplish. At least… that's what she told herself… and him.
Leaning back in his chair, Killian tossed his napkin onto his plate then took another long sip of coffee, his eyes assessing her over the rim of the steaming mug. She was sure he would brush off her question until he pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked it, revealing a coded itinerary for the day.
"I have to settle terms with our money launderer and give him our soiled funds so he can work his magic during the casino's event," he stated, scrolling through the agenda. "Then there's a meeting with a real estate developer who's helping us find a second distillery location, allowing us to expand our bootlegging operation. I'll also be negotiating contracts with various fences and black market dealers who wish to have use of our port, as well as making nice with representatives from the other families so we can all remain civil as we do business in one another's backyards."
Emma nodded, worrying her bottom lip. "And will Hyde and Arlo be in those meetings with you?"
"Why, Swan…" Killian drawled salaciously. "Worried about my safety, are you? I must say I'm touched."
Emma cocked her head to one side and gave him a half-hearted glare as she reminded, "You staying alive long enough for me to find your rat is rather imperative to my own safety, remember?"
"Point taken," he replied with a lop-sided smile. Standing, he fastened the middle and lower buttons of his jacket then reached up his sleeves to adjust his cuffs. "Hyde and Arlo will be accompanying me, but if you desire to leave the suite and go exploring you will let Arlo know so he can watch over you." It wasn't a request, the mandate that she keep security with her at all times when not in the room having been issued before they even left the yacht. "But I assure you, love," he continued, leaning over her and bending down until his lips hovered above hers. "You don't have to worry about me. If there's one thing I'm good at… it's surviving."
She caught his wink before her eyes fell shut, his lips pressing against hers as he stole a quick kiss before departing for the day. A kiss that remained seared upon her lips as she tried to make sense of the information Jefferson had compiled for her.
With her legs crossed beneath her as she sat perched on the suite's sofa, Emma continued to input information into her models well into the afternoon. As expected, she found many points of connection between the Mills family, their known associates, and the Jones family. The criminal underworld was not as vast as some would believe, and too often boundaries were straddled as competing enterprises attempted to one up one another. It wasn't uncommon for a person with a specific skill set to find themselves working a job with one crew this week then collaborating with said crew's rival the next.
Berkley had connections with a number of people associated with the Jones family. There was even evidence he'd done business with Owen Flynn, but given Berkley was a thief and Flynn had been a fence, that wasn't exactly surprising. Most of the underlings within the family, even those who had risen in the ranks, had past associations with a number of people now firmly in the Mills fold. Add to that the neutral parties like Billy's garage, a dozen or so ship captains bringing in goods from various sources, and businesses like the very casino all the families were doing business with this week and the line between us and them became even more blurred.
Complicating matters even further were the notes Jefferson had included in regards to those who may or may not have ties to the Gold and Pendragon families. Needing more concrete intel, Emma shot off a quick text to Robin, asking if he could compile a list - perhaps using August as a resource, as well as any FBI connections the family might have - of the other families' players. His reply had come an hour or so later, presumably long enough for him to run the request past Killian first, telling her he'd get right on it.
Rubbing the strain from her eyes, she glanced at the clock. It was already well past time she should have started getting ready, but there was something in the data bugging her. Something she knew she was missing, something being overlooked. With a heavy sigh, she secured and closed out her laptop. Hopefully tonight's event would help clear her head so she could come back to the models with a fresh perspective tomorrow. She hated not having any answers for Killian, though.
She was in the bathroom putting the final touches on her hair and make-up now that she was dressed when Killian returned.
"Swan?"
"In here," she called out, blotting her lipstick. "I'll just be a minute."
"Take your time, love," he replied, the metallic scrape of the hangers sliding against the closet bar resonating through the wall beside her.
"How did your meetings go?" she asked, her stomach fluttering at the thought of how domestic that question sounded. She'd practically asked him, How was your day, dear?
"Meetings went well," he informed her, some of his words becoming muffled as he stripped off his suit and changed into his tux. "I have some interesting news to share."
"Oh?"
"Pendragon finally arrived. Alone."
"Alone?"
"Aye," he confirmed. "Just him and his bodyguards, which is unusual. I might be able to find out more during the event. Speaking of which, are you almost ready to..."
His words died off when she opened the door and he got his first look at her in her gown. His hands were frozen, halfway through the motion of snapping his suspenders in place, his eyes the only part of him moving as they trailed down her body, tracing the slinky outline her dress gave her.
"Well?" Emma prompted, snapping him from his blatant appreciation and forcing his eyes to meet hers. "Will I blend in with the ladies from the other families?"
A scoff forced its way out of his lungs and he regained control over his movements. "Not bloody likely. I hate to tell you this, love," he said, stepping forward into her personal space, "but they're just as likely to hate you on the spot for the way you'll outshine them all evening." The backs of his fingers trailed down her arm, leaving ripples of raised flesh in their wake as he murmured, "I, however, will be the envy of every man in the room."
Emma hummed a dubious sound, her hands gliding up his chest where she could feel his breath catch beneath her palms. "I think there might be at least a few women who'll consider me a very lucky girl for having landed such a devilishly handsome and powerful mob boss."
Killian chuckled and wrapped his arms around her, something akin to a half groan half growl reverberating in his chest when he realized her back was completely bare. "You know," he purred, brushing the tip of his nose against hers, his head angling slightly to put his mouth in a better position in relation to hers as his warm breath ghosted over her lips. "We could forego the festivities and engage in more enjoyable activities without having to leave the suite."
His lips chased hers when she tilted her head back, her hands firmly pressing against his chest. "Easy tiger," she admonished in a husky tone, bordering on playful. "I'm just getting into character."
It was definitely a growl that rumbled through his chest this time as it heaved against her palms. "Bad form, Swan," he chastised with only a minor hint of aggravation.
"What's the matter, Captain?" she brazenly challenged. "Can't handle a little role play in preparation of selling our relationship to the masses tonight? I thought you said we had to be convincing."
The muscle at his jaw flickered and his eyes narrowed. "Be careful, love," he warned in a dark tone of pure sin that slinked over her skin and down her spine. "Our conduct with one another at the event tonight might be an act, but there are limits to my restraint. I won't hesitate to respond to your... provocation."
"And I thought you were a gentleman," Emma shot back with a haughtily cocked brow, knowing full well she was playing with fire yet unable to keep herself from throwing gasoline onto the flames.
"I am a gentleman," he asserted, peeling her hands off his chest so he could pull her in close, one hand gripping her waist while the other wrapped around the back of her neck. Turning her head so he could whisper into her ear, the threat sounded more like a promise when he murmured, "but that won't stop me from taking you over my knee and giving you a right good spanking. So behave."
~/~
Emma was behaving, all right. She was behaving exactly how anyone in attendance would be expecting her to, displayed on the arm of a powerful and handsome man who was known for his cunning and ruthlessness every bit as much as his charm and dashing smile. From the moment they'd arrived, eyes had tracked their every move, assessed their every interaction, and homed in on every display of affection.
Displays Emma had begun mirroring from the other wives, girlfriends, and… bits of fun she and Killian came into contact with whilst working the room. Taking cues from them, working their assets and staking their claim on the men who held their own measure of prominence and influence made her own actions bolder. Keeping her body pressed close to his, always having some measure of contact with him whether it be her arm wrapped around him in reciprocation or her fingers playfully teasing his hairline along the back of his neck. Her body language, expression, and over-all attentiveness held a measure of adoration and flirtation as she laughed and preened in supportive response whenever they found themselves within a group he was attempting to charm.
The further into the role she fell, the harder it was to find that line of separation between the facade she was projecting and her own natural instincts and responses. For every bit of affectionate attention she gave, Killian returned with a natural, and sometimes challenging, ease. Good to his word, he did not back down from her increasing provocations, and by the time the cocktail hour had finished and the band made its way to the stage so patrons could make use of the dance floor before the tables opened up for the evening's main events, there was an unspoken contest declared between them of who might surrender first in their game of seduction.
"Please tell me this waltz isn't going to turn into a tango," Emma murmured as Killian spun her around the dance floor while both of them continued to survey the room and discuss her strategy for approaching the other women.
A chuckle rumbled in his chest and his eyes slid to hers. "What?"
"You know," she said with a smirk and taunting brow. "Every mob movie there's a hot tango scene where two characters miraculously know all the moves and set the screen on fire. It's cliche."
"You have nothing to fear, Swan," Killian assured her with a wicked grin, pulling her flush to him as the song came to an end. "The only tango I'm familiar with is the naked kind. Though, I'd be all too happy to show you those moves back in our room later."
Despite the flush of anticipation his words and salacious gaze sent through her body, Emma rolled her eyes and cheeked, "Speaking of cliches..."
"Typically it's innuendos with this one," a voice quipped beside them, drawing their joint attention to a dark haired, accented man flanked by two imposing figures.
"Arthur!" Killian greeted amicably. "I wondered when you would finally grace us all with your presence." The two shook hands, both jovial in a way that Emma sensed wasn't for show, even if there was an undercurrent of wariness between them. "Arthur, allow me to introduce you to Miss Emma Swan. Swan, this is Arthur Pendragon."
"Pleasure to meet you," Emma said, holding out her hand, which the man took and raised to his lips.
"The pleasure is all mine," he murmured against the back of her hand before placing a kiss to her knuckles. "And should you come to your senses and ditch Jones, I assure you it could be yours as well."
Emma couldn't help the amused huff that escaped her lips when he followed his outrageous proposition with a wink and quick flick of his gaze to Killian, offering him a cheeky grin of challenge. Killian stepped forward and put himself between her and Pendragon, the muscle in his jaw flickering as he tucked his thumb in his belt and shifted his stance.
"Bad form from a married man, Pendragon," Killian admonished, his eyes scanning the room in a dramatic show before he questioned, "Speaking of, where is your lovely wife?"
"Visiting family," Arthur told him. "Something of a small emergency she needed to attend to. I sent Lance with her to get it sorted, so it's just me and my security this week."
Emma's brow scrunched together. Something in the man's tone told her he wasn't being entirely truthful, and not in the usual deflecting way she'd come to expect from most of the people within the room. Killian seemed to pick up on it as well and was therefore accommodating when Arthur requested they speak privately.
"Sure thing, mate. Why don't we speak outside."
"No, not here," Arthur blurted out quickly before he recovered and schooled his features back to the confident and charming demeanor he'd been projecting earlier. "That is, I do not wish to intrude on your evening, especially when we'll be called to the tables where I am sure to lose a vast amount of my ill-gotten gains to your expert card skills." Taking a step forward, Arthur lowered his tone while fixing Killian with an intense look. "Tomorrow morning? First thing?"
"Aye, mate," Killian agreed. "First thing."
Watching Arthur as he wove through the crowd, mingling with the other guests as though nothing were amiss, Emma leaned in and whispered into Killian's ear, "Is he usually that cryptic?"
She appreciated the small shudder rippling over him in response to her breath against the shell of his ear, but her smug smile was stifled by the concern she heard in his words.
"No. Something must be seriously wrong."
"Ladies and gentlemen," An announcement rang out from the stage where one of the casino staff was gathering the room's attention. "Tables will be opening in ten minutes. If you have not paid the buy-in in order to secure your spot, please do so now. For those not participating in tonight's game, please continue to enjoy yourselves. We ask that you respect the players, remaining in the designated spectator areas while a table is at play."
"That's my cue, Swan," Killian told her, gathering her in his arms and keeping her close so his words wouldn't be overheard. "And your chance to talk shop with the ladies while we men impress you all with our gambling prowess."
"You know… my prowess at poker is pretty impressive, too," she quipped. "I can see a bluff from a mile away."
"I would imagine your prowess is impressive at a great many things," he replied in a husky and suggestive tone. "And you are welcome to prove that assertion to me at any time you wish."
"If you are looking for proof," she purred, running her hands up his chest and tucking them beneath his tuxedo jacket, gripping his suspenders and pulling him closer, "then why don't I get to play?"
His tongue darted out, wetting his lips as his brow arched up his forehead. "Did you bring the half million required for the minimum buy-in?" A chuckle rumbled through his chest at the way her eyes widened.
"A half million?"
His fingertips skimmed up her back, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. "A perfect opportunity to launder millions worth of soiled funds for the various families and their associates."
"So… the game is rigged?"
"To an extent," he murmured, nuzzling the tip of his nose against hers. "I'm guaranteed through the first table, after that… I can cash out, securing my clean funds, or keep playing."
"So I have until then to work the room and see what I can get out of the other women."
"Aye. While I make some subtle inquiries of players I've arranged to join me at my table."
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she ran her fingers through the back of his hair and mused, "I didn't realize tonight would be a team effort."
His hand curled around the back of her neck, his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes fell to her lips. "An effort that, perhaps, might not end with the conclusion of our clandestine endeavors this evening?"
Emma hummed and pressed her lips to his… for luck, of course. "Maybe if you play your cards right," she whispered, letting go of his suspenders as the five minute warning was announced. "So, go win big, Jones."
A growl reverberated through her palms, and his gaze darkened with promise. "I intend to."
He left one more bruising kiss to her lips, flicking his tongue out to tease the seam of her lips before pulling away and heading over to the gambling floor with a swagger that had her adjusting her stance so her thighs could rub together in search of some much needed friction.
"You must tell me," a woman's voice declared, preceding the presence of Kelly Mills strolling up to her side, sipping on some bright green concoction from her martini glass. "Are Jones' luscious lips and wicked tongue capable of all the naughty things we've always imagined they were?"
"Excuse me?"
"You'll have to forgive my sister," Regina Mills stated, flanking Emma's other side and sipping on her own martini glass, leaving a blood red imprint of her lips along the rim. "She has no filter."
"Like you aren't curious," Kelly sniped. "The younger Jones has never brought a companion to these sorts of things before, so naturally," she tipped her glass against her lips and flicked her gaze towards Emma, swallowing dramatically, "we were all hoping you'd be willing to dish."
"I haven't had any complaints being in Killian's company, if that's what you're asking."
Emma's words spurred the older Mills sister on, her body turning towards Emma's as a look of delight crossed her features. "And how long has that been for?"
Emma arched a brow, her suspicion of the woman's motives on clear display. While Killian had informed her the other families would have likely looked into her the moment they arrived, gaining all the information they could on the woman a Jones man had brought to such an event, they wouldn't have had much time to learn more than the basics and would likely try to pry as much out of her as she would them.
Kelly clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. "Surely the tale isn't a matter of family secrecy. You being a bounty hunter has already become known within our circles, but how you and Killian ended up together is something of a mystery."
"It can be hard to get information about the other families, even when it's just to satisfy our own curiosity," a third voice said. "Sorry to interrupt," she said sheepishly when each of the heads snapped in her direction. "I'm Belle. Belle Gold."
"I know," Emma said, shaking the woman's hand. "Killian pointed you all out to me last night at dinner."
"Keeping you apprised of the competition," Regina remarked, her eyes sliding back to the gambling floor. "What else did he tell you about us?"
"Not much," Emma answered with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Killian and I tend to shy away from talking shop. Helps keep things from getting too personal. Besides, most of the conversations he had were with his associates about Owen Flynn and some guy named Berkley."
The Mills sisters traded a glance, then took a synchronized sip from their drinks.
"I heard about Flynn," Belle chimed in. "R.G. was really upset about his death. Said it's so hard to find a trustworthy fence."
"Oh?" Emma kept her expression neutral, masking her surprise. "I didn't know Gold did business with Flynn."
Belle nodded, an uneasy expression flashing across her features as she flagged down a waiter and handed off a flute of champagne to Emma when the tray was presented to her. Emma thanked her and took a drink, fighting the impulse to push the woman for more information.
"Flynn worked for all of the families at one time or another," Kelly interjected. "He's been in the game a long time."
"Funny." Emma took another drink, applying an air of vague boredom to her demeanor. "I'd never heard of him until a few weeks ago when I tried to track him down for the bounty."
"Given your profession, Miss Swan," Regina added in a condescending tone. "I would imagine a great number of individuals work hard to remain off your radar."
A smirk pulled at the corner of Emma's lips. "Yeah, I'll give you that one."
"Which begs the question…" she posed with a heavy dose of speculation lacing her words. "How did Killian ever get his brother to agree to bringing you into the fold when you have such close ties to law enforcement?"
"Mmm, yes," Kelly drawled, "you do seem to make for strange bedfellows."
"Is it really so odd that the Jones' would find value in having a bounty hunter on their payroll, much as I assume you all have officers and agents from various precincts, whose jurisdictions your businesses operate within, on yours?"
"On their payroll, sure," Kelly said, side-eyeing Emma with a wickedly mischievous gleam. "But not tucked so far into one of their pockets. You have coveted access to what's inside those deliciously tight pants of his."
"Yes… it seems Miss Swan has a thing for organized crime members… especially the heirs."
Emma raised a brow at Tamara, the woman who had accompanied Neal to the casino's event, as she joined their group with her assets on full display, posturing haughtily.
"If you're referring to my past association with Neal, then you should know I had no idea who he was when we started running together in the same crew."
"Right," Tamara responded with a clipped and overly polite tone. "Not until his daddy got him in with a new crew and decided you weren't good enough."
"Tamara," Belle hissed. "Remember what R.G. said."
Cocking her head to one side, Emma took a step towards the woman and asked, "What did R.G. say?"
Belle swallowed, her eyes darting around until they sheepishly landed back onto Emma. "He… He doesn't want any of us discussing what happened between you and Neal, because…"
"Because?"
"Because of the treaty he has with the Jones family," she answered in a whisper.
"What does my past with Neal have to do with the treaty between Gold and the Jones?"
Belle looked to Tamara, almost pleading with her to help her out, knowing she had probably already said too much. Tamara sighed and rolled her eyes.
"R.G. wants to make sure Flynn's death is the end of the matter and that there won't be any more retribution."
Emma's expression must have tipped Tamara off to the fact she had no idea what the woman was talking about. A fact that had a smug look crossing the woman's features as she drawled, "You didn't know, did you?"
"Didn't know what?"
"That Flynn was the fence R.G. used to move the watches Neal and his crew stole," she replied tauntingly. "He's the one who planted the evidence that set you up to take the fall."
It was a wonder the champagne flute didn't shatter in Emma's hand from the way she was gripping it.
"If Jones didn't kill Flynn for setting you up all those years ago, then why did he?" Kelly inquired, clearly entertained by the drama playing out in front of her.
"Who says Killian killed-"
"Oh, come now," Kelly tisked. "Jones doubled Flynn's bounty. Why else would he do that unless he personally wanted to see the man pay for some infraction committed against the family?"
"How do you know Killian doubled the bounty on Flynn?" Emma asked with narrowed eyes, which picked up on the flicker of alarm that passed through Kelly's bright blue gaze.
"It looks like some of the tables are about to take a break," Regina chimed in, grasping her sister's arm. "We should refresh our drinks before the players flock to the bar."
Emma watched the Mills sisters retreat, the younger visibly admonishing the older, who seemed none too pleased with the dressing down, then focused her attention back onto Belle, who had placed a light hand on her arm.
"Please don't say anything to Killian," she pleaded. "I don't want to have caused trouble. R.G. will be furious if he finds out I said anything about Flynn."
"Don't worry," Emma assured her, sympathy welling up for this woman who obviously had no idea what she had married into. "Flynn is dead, and what happened between me, Neal, and R.G. was a long time ago. Besides," she quipped, giving Belle a self-deprecating smile, "It was hardly something worth throwing away a long standing peace for."
Belle returned Emma's friendly smile and leaned in closely to impart, "I don't know about that… from what I hear, Jones is pretty protective of you, in a way he's never been with anyone else."
A swooping sensation swept through Emma's belly at Belle's words, and she needed a minute to collect herself after she and Tamara went to check and see if the table Neal and his father were playing at had stopped for a break as well. Shaking off the school girl reactions she had allowed to get the better of her, Emma glanced over at Killian's table to find him still deep in play as she chewed her lip and considered what all she'd learned so far.
It had been a shock to discover Owen Flynn had been in cahoots with Gold all those years ago, setting her up to take the fall for the job Neal and Gold's crew had pulled in an effort to get her out of the picture. And now the man was concerned whether that decision was going to affect the treaty he had with the Jones family, presuming Killian's actions had been because of an almost decade's old betrayal. Emma scoffed to herself, as if any of the Jones men would think her worth that level of retribution.
Emma wondered if R.G. had approached Killian about the matter or if he would wait for an opportunity to talk with Liam or Brennan instead. She hated to think what Liam's reaction would be, hearing that she was once again making things difficult for the family when none of them had known about Flynn's connection to Gold or her past. Maybe she could help diffuse things while they were here? Talk with Neal and let him know Flynn hadn't been because of the watches or what had happened between them all those years ago, that R.G. didn't need to worry about his treaty with the Jones family and could just let the matter go?
As if he could read her mind, Neal was making his way over to her, his eyes trailing up her body in a way that made her skin crawl. She pushed the feeling aside and greeted him with a polite smile before taking a fortifying sip from her champagne.
"You look amazing, Ems," Neal purred. "How come you never dressed like that for me when we were together?"
"Maybe because I was a teenager living on the streets and you never took me anywhere that would have warranted a gown like this?"
He chuckled in that condescending way he always had in response to her sarcasm, and brought his tumbler up to his lips. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head, calculating his next move, so Emma decided to cut to the chase.
"Look, Neal. I know your dad is worried what my association with the Jones family might mean in regards to the treaty your families have, but you can assure him that Killian's actions against Flynn had nothing to do with the watches. There isn't going to be any retribution from Killian or his family for what happened."
Neal nodded and took another drink. "If not for the watches, then why did Killian have Flynn killed?"
"You don't actually expect me to reveal family business, do you?"
"You just did," he snarked. "When you told me it wasn't about the watches."
"Yeah, well… that was so you could tell your dad not to worry about the treaty."
Neal huffed in an amused manner. "You think my dad's worried? It takes a lot to rattle that man."
"Okay. Whatever. Fine." Emma rolled her eyes. "I was just trying to help smooth things over."
"You wanna smooth things over?" Neal asked, his tone lowering in depth and volume. "Leave Jones and come work for us."
Emma balked and had to call upon every bit of control she had to not laugh in the man's face… or throw her drink in it. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you or the family's business?"
"That was my dad's thinking, not mine," Neal argued. "You know what I thought about you, what I felt for you back then."
"Yeah." Emma clipped sharply, taking a step forward and piercing him with her angry stare. "I do. Good enough for a quick fuck in the back of the bug, where you got what you needed but never thought about my pleasure. Thought I was good at providing distractions during our two-bit jobs on convenience stores, but never gave me the credit for the ideas you passed off as your own to the other guys we ran with. Never felt it was worth the hassle to back me up when I insisted on an even cut of the scores. And when that watch job came along, you never even tried to convince Percy I should be a part of the crew, even went out of your way to keep the details of it and the others involved from me. So yeah… I know exactly where I would fit in if I came to work for you and your father."
"You think the Jones are any different?" Neal sneered. "You think you'll ever be more than Killian's whore?"
Letting her anger fuel her response, Emma swiped her tongue over her lips and looked at him from beneath her lashes before taunting, "Trust me, Neal. If that's all Killian saw in me, at least I know I'd get more satisfaction being his whore than I ever would in working with you again."
Spinning on her heel, Emma made her way over to the gambling floor and smiled at Killian. Having pushed his chair away from the table, which had suspended play now that the round was over, he casually leaned back and loosened his tie, waving her over as he finished a conversation and shook one of his opponent's hands. Circling behind him, Emma's fingers trailed over the backs of his shoulders and she noted Neal's thunderous gaze still tracking her every move as she slinked down onto Killian's lap and wrapped an arm around his neck.
Killian hummed an approving sound and settled a hand at her waist, the heat of which had a scorching affect through the thin material of her gown. "Hello, love."
"Did you win big?" she asked, mindful of the milling crowd still within earshot.
Killians grip on her hip tightened and the fingers of his other hand skimmed down the length of her arm and back up again, a sultry smirk pulling at the corner of his lip. "That remains to be seen, though I am technically no longer on the clock." The waggle of his brows and the way he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth had Emma's insides squirming, and she couldn't help but shift in his lap, earning her a reverberating grunt from the back of Killian's throat. "Swan…" he warned, narrowing his gaze and sending a wave of heat cascading over her.
Leaning forward, Emma rested her forehead against his, so she could discreetly inquire, "Did you find out anything of interest from the other players?"
"Not much," he answered in that low, husky tone that made her toes curl. "I'd rather hear what you were able to glean from the ladies… and what it was Neal Gold had to say."
She could practically feel the pulse of his clenched jaw muscle, his displeasure at having to watch her face off with the man he worried she might still feel something for evident in his darkened blue depths.
Pulling away, she wet her lips and casually toyed with the silky strands of his hair. "He offered me a place within the Gold family. Said me leaving you and joining him and his father in business would help smooth things over."
"Smooth what over?"
"He and R.G. think you killed Flynn because he was the fence Gold used to set me up. He's worried about the treaty that exists between your families."
Emma was sure she'd have bruises on her hip from the way Killian's fingers were digging into her skin.
"He what?"
Her fingers traced the top of his collar and down the front of his neck, swirling through the tease of chest hair peeking out from where he'd undone a few buttons, hoping her touch would keep him calm enough to not react further.
"That's what Belle and Tamara said, so I told Neal Flynn's death had nothing to do with the watches and that there wouldn't be any retaliation for what happened back then."
Killian tilted his head to one side and cocked a brow. "Who gave you the authority to make such assurances?"
His sharp tone made Emma balk, her hand stilling as her eyes bounced between his. "You can't possibly consider throwing out a peace treaty because of something that happened between the Gold's and me long before I ever started working for you. Liam and your father would never allow it, and I'm hardly worth the bloodshed it would cause."
Killian tore his gaze from hers, his lips pursing together as a heavy exhale left his lungs. "Swan," he began in a tight, almost reluctant tone. "I know we haven't talked about it, but…" his eyes slid back to hers, a heat made up of various degrees threatening to ignite something she kept buried deep within herself. "I did not intend to kill Owen Flynn," he admitted. "In fact, I was very mindful to keep enough control over myself to ensure I did not. Which makes his death all the more vexing." He reached up and cupped the side of her face in his large hand, caressing the apple of her cheek with the calloused pad of his thumb. "But make no mistake," he continued on with a searing stare. "If I had known he was the bastard Gold had used to frame you, I wouldn't have held back or given the impulse to kill him a second thought." His tongue slowly grazed over his bottom lip and now he was the one to lean in and press his forehead to hers. "You're right. My family would never allow your past with Gold to compromise the treaty my father made with Malcolm, but that doesn't mean you aren't worth my desire to exact revenge."
The noise of the crowded room slowly faded and Emma had a fleeting thought - to hell with the audience - before surging forward and capturing Killian's lips.
"Do you have any idea what you've put me through all night?" he breathed into her ear after breaking off the kiss and trailing his lips and tongue along the line of her jaw. "How badly I want to fuck you right now? It's a wonder I haven't stripped you down and had you atop the poker table in clear view of every man who's wanted to do the same. Including Neal fucking Gold."
Emma put her hands against Killian's chest and pushed him back slightly, her lust-filled gaze fixated on his pinked and swelling lips. "Killian."
"Aye, love?" he replied, breathlessly. A pained groan and look of resigned disappointment crossed his face when she stood from his lap.
Holding out her hand, she invited him to follow her as she asked, "Are you going to sit there and continue to drive yourself crazy, or are you going to take me back to our suite and fuck me?"