The five men each shed their clothing one by one, and they're all muscular and lean as they dance sinuously, all of the females in the room squealing and flailing in delight as they throw money at the dancers. Everyone is enjoying themselves and soon most of the strippers are down to their last bits of clothing, their g-strings filled to the brim with bills. Regina and Robin Hood get a little too dirty after he'd donned her with his hat, and they run off to find a bedroom.

Prince Charming is apparently not so Charming after he ties Mary Margaret to the chair as punishment for not keeping her hands to herself and for sitting him down and giving him a lap dance of her own. He obviously enjoyed it though. Jasmine seems to be enjoying her magic carpet ride as she and Aladdin are dirty dancing heavily. And Belle has definitely had too much to drink because she can't stop giggling every time Liam takes off another item of clothing, especially when he wraps his scarf around the back of her neck as he straddles her lap and moves to the song, Stole the Showpouring from the speakers.

But all of the noises are drowned out as Emma fixates on Captain Hook, whose groin is rubbing against her ass, his hands grabbing her hips as he slowly thrusts against her, the hard protruding bulge in his pants making her clit throb. His jacket and vest are long gone and she'd had a really good view of his chest in all it's glory before he'd slid behind her. Still, she whines when he moves in front of her, missing his warmth as he tears off his pants, revealing his g-string as he turns around. He's very well muscled with little ripples on his back, and as her eyes move to his butt, she realizes he was right before - he does have the finest booty in all the realms. She can see his ass cheeks flex as he moves, and his thighs are corded with just the right amount of muscles. And oh God , she really enjoys watching the way he moves his hips as he crouches low, swiveling them from left to right and front to back, smooth as a snake. She swears she could come just from watching him tease her like this. Her panties are fucking soaked.

He spins around, revealing the front of his underwear, which has a picture of a skull and crossbones, and Emma laughs, tucking some bills in his g-string, her fingers lingering a little longer than they probably should. The outline of his cock against his underpants makes her knees weak; she almost wants to sit down again. When she lifts her gaze to his face once more, his eyes are dark and hooded, and it's almost as though he actually wants her, but she knows this is all an act. It's his job to give a good performance.

"My sail's at full mast because of you," he whispers in her ear, his accent thicker than it was before and his voice deep and husky. Emma has to suppress a moan as she feels his lips on the shell of her ear, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his body pressed up against hers, making her head spin. He grinds into her and she automatically rolls her hips into him, meeting his thrusts as he has his hands on her waist, aiding her movements. Their eyes are locked on each other as her fingers run through that gorgeous chest hair of his, and her intuition was correct - it really is as soft and luxurious as it looks. "Do you trust me?"

Taken off guard by the question, her eyes flicker with curiosity, and considering her current state, she's willing to let him do whatever he wants to her without arguing. Emma nods, and a slow smirk stretches across his lips. Something tells her she's going to regret her decision. Killian goes to the duffle bag and pulls out a black scarf. He stands behind her and wraps the thin fabric around her eyes, tying it snugly behind her head. She stiffens, wondering what exactly he has in mind.

"Just relax love," he says in a soothing voice, sensing her anxiety. "If you want me to stop at any time, just say the word." His words set her skin on fire, and she's certain this man is hellbent on killing her as his fingertips run down each of her arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. "Now, why don't you get on your knees for the Captain," he murmurs in a low, but demanding voice.

Yep, he's definitely trying to kill her. Emma' s body trembles in anticipation as she does what she's told, although again, she is already missing his body heat as she kneels on the floor. She can't see anything, but she knows he's left her because she can no longer feel the heat coming off of him, but he's back in a flash. "You've been a very naughty lass."

Fuck, Emma is so screwed. Her body is reacting to everything he says and does, and she's not even drunk. She can't even imagine how her body will handle what he's about to do to her.

A breath catches in her throat as she feels something on her back. A whip? She can't really tell, but she's going to go with a whip. She can feel the end of it dragging across her back as she braces herself for what's to come.

"Relax, love, I'll be gentle, I promise." He runs the object down her butt and the inside of her thighs and Emma's sure it's collecting the juices sliding down her thigh. Suddenly, she feels the whip lashing across her ass, but it's light like a feather. She gasps, not knowing how much she can take this teasing as he continues to strike her butt with the whip, and before she knows it he's kneeling behind her, grabbing her hips and pressing his shaft against her flesh. She has to refrain from moaning as she feels the thickness of his cock through the thin material. He gives her another thrust and is gone from behind her in a flash. Emma whines in protest, and soon he's gently grabbing her arm and helping her up.

"Now it's time for you to walk the plank, love. But don't worry, my wood is hard and sturdy," he murmurs in her ear, and her entire body shivers. "And when I jab you with my sword you'll feel it."

Good lord, he's trying to kill her. She's not sure exactly what he means, but she can't wait to find out.

As she waits for further instructions, she can hear the women shouting and catcalling, and they're so loud they almost drown out the sound of the music.

"Belle, are you okay?!" Mary Margaret yells from across the room.

"I don't feel very well," Belle responds.

"Easy there, lass," is Killian's response.

Suddenly there's only silence from the women, and an, "I'm so sorry!" from Belle.

Emma removes the scarf from her eyes, and her eyes widen in horror at the sight.

"I'm so so sorry," Belle repeats again for the millionth time.

"I told you, it's fine," Killian assures as he wipes his chest with a towel.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs and into bed," Mary Margaret says softly to Belle after insisting on helping her to bed so Emma can pay the strippers and show them to the door.

Belle groans, holding her stomach, her other arm around Mary Margaret's shoulder as they walk slowly towards the hallway where the bedrooms are located.

Emma is completely mortified. Belle vomited on one of the strippers, more specifically she puked all over Killian! "I'm truly sorry," Emma reiterates, her eyes clouded with embarrassment and apology.

Thankfully he doesn't appear to be pissed. In fact, a light chuckle leaves those gorgeous lips. "Like I told Belle, don't worry about it. You'd be surprised how many times I've been to one of these celebrations and the bride ends up drinking a wee too much." He looks down, resuming his task of cleaning himself off. "Although, normally they at least vomit on the carpet or make it to the toilet."

"I feel terrible." Emma digs some cash out of her purse, taking out more than she owes.

"Love, you really don't have to," he assures, seeing the amount of money she's offering him.

"Please, it's the least I can do-"

"Emma…" he murmurs softly taking her hand in his. Emma is stunned by his kindness, her mouth falling open slightly as she's taken by the stunning blue eyes looking back at her. "It's okay, really."

"Well, there has to be something I can do then," she says, her eyes pleading with him to let her fix this somehow.

Killian sighs, seeing she's not willing to back down on the issue. "Alright, how about I use your shower so the van we came in doesn't smell like vomit?"

Emma nods quickly. She didn't even get to watch Belle get the happy ending strip tease she had paid for, but she figures the money she had forked over for that makes up for the whole vomiting incident.

"Yes, of course."

"Emma, we had a really great time, you host a great party," Prince Charming says, meeting them at the door after putting his clothes back on.

"Thank you," she says tentatively. "Sorry it ended too soon."

"Don't be," he says with a grin, holding up a business card. "I got Mary Margaret's number, so please don't apologize."

Emma laughs and shakes her head at that. It looks like Mary Margaret really found her Prince Charming after all.

The sound of Regina and Robin Hood's laughter fills the room as they stumble from the hallway, their clothing out of place and hair disheveled, looking thoroughly fucked. Regina's hands are all over him, lipstick smeared all over Robin's mouth as he pulls on the vest in his hand and kisses her on the cheek, a smug grin stretched across his face. "Can I see you again?" he asks her, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

With a small smile gracing her face, she bites her bottom lip and nods. "I'd like that."

Robin's grin widens, showing his teeth as he looks around the room searching for something. "Does anyone have a pen?"

Emma grabs one from her purse and hands it to Regina, who flips Robin Hood's hand around and jots her number down on his wrist.

"Call me," she murmurs, and they kiss again, causing everyone to turn their heads away from the display.

"Bye, Regina," he murmurs, his voice completely wrecked as he looks at Emma. "It was very nice to meet you, lass," he says and stumbles out the door.

Regina is swooning as she watches him leave, her eyes glazed over.

"Are you going to get dressed, or you riding in the van like that?" Liam asks his brother, amusement dancing in his eyes as he joins them at the door carrying the stereo and bag he had brought.

"Actually, why don't you and the gang go without me. Emma's been so kind as to let me use her shower. I'll just take a cab home."

"Are you sure?" Liam asks him, surprised.

"Yeah, you guys go without me."

"All right, brother," he relents, too tired to protest as he looks at Emma. "It was nice to meet you lass."

"Nice to meet you, too."

He waves goodbye along with the other men, who follow behind him, and Emma shuts the door behind them, her eyes moving to Killian who is still in his underwear. "I'll get the shower going and fetch a clean towel," she says, averting her gaze so as not to look at him directly,

"Thanks, love."

God, he really needs to stop calling her that.

"It's not a problem."

Emma checks on Belle, who is now asleep with a puke bucket and glass of water by her bed. The rest of the group had taken a cab home, so it's now just Emma alone with the ridiculously handsome stripper.

She quietly shuts her roommate's door and walks down the hallway when the door to the bathroom opens and Killian steps out with nothing but a towel draped rather low around his hips.

She stops in her tracks, her mouth is falling open and her stomach is doing flips.

He's combing a hand through his wet hair, beads of water running down his body as he stops in front of her. She can feel the heat radiating from his skin as her eyes start following the delectable trail that leads to the edge of the towel, and it's at that point when she realizes she's staring so blatantly and forces her gaze to snap up to his eyes.

"Sorry," Emma apologizes, blush creeping into her cheeks; it's clear she's been caught red-handed based on the amusement dancing in his eyes and that smug smirk on his face.

"No worries, love, you've seen me in my knickers," he reminds her with a chuckle.

"Right," she says, still embarrassed, even though she shouldn't be. He's used to being half naked in front of women; he's used to being ogled by them. A spell of jealousy flares in her gut and she knows she has no right to feel such a thing about this stranger she barely knows, but the thought of another woman getting a dance like the one Emma had received earlier gives her a stomachache. "Do you have your clothes? I could get them for you?"

Killian scratches behind his ear - an adorable habit Emma has quickly picked up on. "You know, I was thinking - you paid fifty dollars for a Happy Ending and the guest of honor got sick before Liam could give it to her."

"Oh, yeah, that's okay, don't worry about it," she assures, her hand waving off his word dismissively.

"Love, it would be bad form to not deliver what you paid for," he says, stepping towards her. The sultry look in his eyes tells her he's not kidding.

"Sorry, I forgot you were a gentleman," Emma forces out a laugh, attempting to disguise the curiosity burning in her stomach and the sharp spike of her heart rate at the idea of seeing what he's hiding underneath that towel.

Killian cocks a brow and keeps stalking towards her, swaying his hips as he fists the top of the towel in one of his hands. "I'm always a gentleman."

Emma crosses her arms over her chest, lifting her eyes to once again meet his brilliant blue ones as she further closes the distance between them until he's so close she can feel his breath on her skin. "Okay, you're on," she accepts, her voice cracking as she tries to ignore the fresh scent of shower soap wafting through her nostrils and how close her lips are to his. All she has to do is grab that gorgeous face of his and yank him towards her, drawing him into a heated kiss. She needs to stop thinking like that though, as tempting as it is. "What do I have to do?"

Killian doesn't say anything, the devilish smirk on his cocky face saying everything she needs to know without words as he extends his hand to her.

She eyeballs it cautiously, second-guessing her decision. She was wet and hot from him dancing with clothes on, so she knows it will be so much worse when he dances for her with absolutely nothing on. But the way he's staring at her, those mesmerizing blue eyes challenging her, she is not one to back down from a challenge. So, she slips her hand into the palm of his, allowing him to lead her to her bedroom.

She turns on the lamp and he tells her to sit on the edge of her bed as he finds an appropriate song on his phone. He presses play, sets the device down and starts moving his hips slowly to Show off by SoMo.

Of course, he has to pick a slow song.

"Are you ready, love?" he asks with an impish smirk and she nods, even though she's not actually prepared for this. Like at all.

With her confirmation, he stops dancing briefly to remove his g-string, while keeping the towel on and lets the skimpy fabric slide down his legs and hit the floor.

Emma takes a sharp breath.

"Are you sure you're ready for what happens next?"

God yes. She simply nods, swallowing thickly.

He promptly steps out of the underwear and stands directly in front of her, his hands falling to his waist. He opens up the towel, still clutching onto each end, and starts shaking his hips to the rhythm of the music.

Hot. Fucking. Damn.

Emma's mouth falls open as she shamelessly gapes at the man in front of her. Those hips really do flow like water, she thinks as her eyes follow every move. She's certainly not looking at his eyes right now. She did pay for this, after all.

She's seen men naked before, but none of them even come close to Killian Jones. The beat picks up for the chorus and so does the sway of his hips; his cock is on full display and at full mast, bobbing up and down, and Emma's clit is swelling in her panties, her eyes glowing with arousal as she takes in the glorious sight. He thrusts his hips towards her, and she can see the head of his cock red and swollen, and she knows he's just as tortured as she is.

Like the song says, Baby, I just wanna show off, and boy, does he have something to show off. The room is thick with heat, Emma's sure someone has turned off the AC and she has to fan herself with her hand, cheeks on fire as she watches him intently. She can't take her eyes off of him. He turns around and lowers the towel beneath his ass so she can get a good view of that perfect butt of his. Emma bites her bottom lip, clenching her thighs together. What she wouldn't give to grab that ass. As Killian rolls his hips, she wonders if he's enjoying this as much as she is.

Probably not. No, definitely not.

He slowly spins around again stepping closer until he's so close to her face she could easily grab his cock and bury it deep in her mouth until his milky come spurts down her throat.

"Now, love, it's time to put my knickers back on," he says in a husky voice, his words wrecked, eyes clouded with lust as she looks into the steely blue.

Oh. He's definitely enjoying this.

She doesn't want to cover up the view, but she knows this is best because if he teases her any longer she might have to take matters into her own hands.

Emma's fingers are shaking as she leans over and picks up his underwear, the same underwear that was previously touching his glorious manhood. Killian lifts up one foot at a time so she can slip on the g-string, pulling the material up his legs. Her face is a mere inch from his cock, and that's only because she's forcing her head back.

She's practically drooling all over him; she can easily take him in her mouth from where she's sitting. She draws in a long breath and lifts the underwear some more, reluctantly covering his balls and the long aching cock pointing at her. She looks up to catch a glimpse of his face before she lets him go, and to her surprise, his eyes are looking straight into her soul, desire pooled in those alluring baby blues. She gasps at the intensity of his stare, and their eyes are glued on one another, their breathing heavy as she reluctantly shimmies the material higher and higher up his thighs until the g-string is secured around his hips.

Emma has to force her hands off his waist and she stands up, knowing her face is completely red. "Well, that's a happy ending I'll never forget," she laughs, breaking the thick silence. She certainly won't be able to stop thinking about that cock. It's easily the biggest she's ever seen up close and personal.

"Aye, love," he agrees, his cheeks matching the color of hers as he ties the towel around his hips again and turns off the music. "Well, uh…" he starts to say, scratching behind his ear. "I should probably get going."

"Right," Emma agrees, but neither of them moves. She'd be lying if she said she wanted him to go. She wants to grab his face and kiss him senselessly, she wants to throw him on the bed and straddle him and fuck him, or have him on top pounding into her with reckless abandon, but suddenly a thought occurs to her, jealousy flaring in her gut. He probably does this all the time and he's used to it. She's just another customer to him, so she knows nothing could ever happen between them.

"I'll go call a cab and change," he says, and as much as Emma doesn't want him to go, she nods and turns her head, looking across the room to hide the disappointment etched in her features. "It's truly been an enchanting evening, love," he murmurs sweetly.

She almost believes him.

"Goodnight," she mumbles and crosses her arms, still avoiding his gaze.

She's waiting for him to leave, she's waiting for him to walk across the room and to hear the door open as he goes, so when she feels him lean in, his warm lips on her cheek, she twinges, goosebumps crawling over her skin and sending a wave of heat through her body. His lips are so gentle and exquisitely soft as his fingers slide up her neck and he takes her jaw in his hand, planting a hot, wet kiss upon her cheek.

Emma's eyes fall shut, and she's tempted to move her head so she can capture his lips with hers, but she knows that's probably a bad idea. Instead, she indulges in the soft caress of his thumb on her other cheek as his lips linger on her skin a little longer than they probably should. For those few seconds, Emma can't breathe, the air thin around her, but much more quickly than she'd prefer, he pulls his lips away. His fingers are still gently stroking her cheek as she tilts her head toward him, her cheeks flushing as she offers a small smile. When she glances at him, she's surprised by the look in his eyes because he appears to be just as wrecked as she is, but that can't be right.

Can it?

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispers, and she can see his eyes shining with something she hadn't expected - he wants her. "It was very nice to meet you." His words are completely shattered, confirming the question blooming inside her. The look in his eyes is a stark contrast to the way he'd looked when he'd entered her home. He came to do his job, and now that it's finished he could easily just walk away with nothing holding him back, but the way his stare sets her heart ablaze and the way his feet stay in place tells her he doesn't really want to go.

He definitely wants her.

And it scares the hell out of her, but at the same time, it excites her. It intrigues her to her very core.

He drops his hand and walks away, heading for the door, leaving her a trembling mess, but he does it with such reluctance, she has no doubt in her mind he's internally conflicted about whether he should stay or not.

"You call that a happy ending?" she blurts out before she can talk herself out of it, because the thought of him leaving hurts her heart .

Stopping abruptly in his tracks, he turns around and cocks a brow, his lips quirking up in amusement. "Excuse me?"

Emma swallows thickly, and manages to put one foot in front of the other as his intense gaze renders her almost useless and she stops halfway, placing a hand on her hip. "You heard me." Thankfully her voice doesn't give out because she's so nervous to how he will respond, she's regretting her words already. "That's your idea of a happy ending - to leave the lady with the images of your dick in her head and an, ' It was nice meeting you,' while she's hot and wet and wanting more? Because that's just bad business if you ask me."

Killian's features cloud with confusion. "Love, in case you've forgotten, I'm a dancer, not a hooker," he states defensively.

Emma nods. "I know that… but I've already paid you for your services, so that means you're off the clock, free to do what you please on your own terms, right?" she says, hoping he won't be offended and flee out the door.

His cheeks are flooding with blush, his eyes buzzing with intrigue, but also uncertainty. "That's true." He takes a few steps closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "So, what are you proposing, love?"

"Well, let me put it to you this way…" She moves across the room like a cat stalking its prey, a dirty smirk playing her lips. "If you leave, I'm going to resort to using my battery operated friend to finish what you started…" Emma closes the distance between them and raises her hands to his chest, and his heart thumps underneath her touch. Her eyes take in the view of his glorious chest hair, following her fingers as they run through the dark patch of hair, and her pitch lowers an octave, her voice a sinful combination of soft and seductive, "But, if you stay, you can finish the job yourself and we can both get our own happy ending." Her eyes flicker to his so she can gauge his reaction. His eyes are hooded and the desire burning in those blue orbs is undeniable and gives her the boost of courage she so desperately needs right now.

"How much have you had to drink?" he asks, but it's not in a condemning tone.

She's hoping, praying , he's not asking to see if she's out of her mind or just drunk. She's certainly not drunk, though she might be a little out of her mind.

"I only had one glass of wine all night, and that was before you and the others showed up," she clarifies. "This is me talking, not any alcohol. So, what do you wanna do?" She tears her gaze away once again, watching her hands as they slink up his chest to those strong, broad shoulders and she squeezes them softly. "Do you wanna leave?" Her eyes lift to his once more, hope flaring in her gut as she searches for any kind of sign that tells her he doesn't want to go. "Or do you wanna stay?"