A/N: Thanks always, always, always. So many of you have taken time to leave me comments and kudos and it is so appreciated!
Always, thanks to shippingtheswann for the cheering and beta work (go read her wonderful story!), imagnifika for finding the heart of the story with her art, halobxist & meanderingcaptainswanmusings for everything xo. And please keep supporting all the other CSBB authors and artists. The content everyone is bringing is truly amazing.
And now... let's see if Emma and Killian can find a quiet moment, or is that, you need to be quiet, Swan? ;)
Chapter 10
"We should get matching tattoos."
"Um, no. I've known you for less than a week."
"Emma."
Emma looks up to see Anna holding a sheet of peel and stick shamrock tattoos.
"We've known each other almost five days, Emma. That has to count for something."
Emma hums, tilting her head in thought before offering up a nod.
"You're right. Fake tattoos it is."
Anna does a little fist pump before disappearing around the corner, windchimes and spinning racks following in her wake. Emma sniffs out a laugh and moves deeper into the shop, fingers gently brushing over crystal glasses and soft linen cloths. She pauses in front of a rack of aran wool sweaters. She hesitates only a moment before picking one up, squeezing the thick fabric in her hands and finally holding it up under her chin.
"What do you think?" she asks across the store.
Anna peeks out from behind a rack of monogrammed keychains, Elsa, Emma, Killian, Anna and Kris all dangling from her fingers and narrows her eyes in study.
"Perfect!" she suddenly announces, smile blooming across her face. "You absolutely have to buy it. No question. It's already yours."
Emma frowns, looking down at the price tag.
"Well-"
"No well anything. You looked at one in Donegal and then again in Sligo. Killian told me you almost bought one in Derry but you put it back before he could convince you otherwise."
Emma sticks out her tongue but turns in search of a mirror.
Although, instead of studying the sweater, she is drawn to her wind blown hair, wisps flying out from her messy bun in every direction, face scrubbed free of makeup but natural color dotting her cheeks, and oh- she draws her hand up her neck, fingers dancing over the faint bruise.
"Kinky. You guys do that in the room, right beside us?"
Anna jumps into view, eyes alight with laughter, finding Emma's in the mirror. Emma covers her hand over the hickey. Killian had sucked into her skin the night before and it leads to other memories. He had cornered her in the hallway outside of yet another shared room, pressing her against the wall and whispering words into her skin about needing to get her alone, about the vivid moments that kept gracing his dreams, about tasting every inch of her skin, about how hard he-
"Earth to Emma."
This time Emma does jump, her whole body heating up.
"Come on you little hussy. Let's get you that sweater and get back to the boys so you can go do whatever it is you were just thinking about."
A little dazed, Emma lets Anna lead her to the cash, although not without trying to sputter out denials.
"Anna, you've been with us twenty four-seven, for the last four days. There's been no time for that ."
Anna smirks.
"What?"
Suddenly the woman who always has something to say is unusually quiet. She smiles at the cashier, handing over the keychains and tattoos.
"And she'll take the sweater."
The sweater is tugged from her hands and plopped on the counter. She almost protests but with one steely look from the always cheerful Anna, she shuts her mouth and reluctantly hands over her card, all the while studying her cryptic friend, when -
"No! When did you ever find time to fool around?" Emma suddenly exclaims.
Anna thanks the woman at the cash before linking arms with Emma and urging her from the store. They walk towards the car in silence as Emma runs the last few days in her mind. She feels as though her and Killian never had any time alone, pulled on hikes or to late night pub crawls, crammed into a room with ten or so other people or just too exhausted to even think of it .
She narrows her eyes at Anna, even while she follows along.
Anna chances a glance to her left and snorts.
"You should see your face. You'd fit right in with my sister. You'll have to meet her when we're all back home."
Anna's words halt Emma's thoughts and pull them in another direction, words of home, of family, of what happens next, that there actually is an end to all of this. She feels her heart pick up and something close to panic threatens to set in. She's been good at tucking it away, just like the envelope at the bottom of her bag, promising herself she would deal with it eventually but she had looked at the map that morning, and they've inched past the midway point. Every mile they drive and every new town, while beautiful and magical and exciting, brings them that much closer to Dublin.
But she's not sure she is any closer to figuring out what to do.
What happens now?
An all important question she doesn't want to ask because she's too scared of the answer.
Chicken! She wants someone to yell at her, to force her into action but instead she tells herself, just another few days, then I'll ask him, then I'll do something . So instead, she scrawls the question on a postcard she grabbed from the pub the night before and drops it in a mailbox. Content to let her problems sit in a dark bin for awhile. She shakes her head, and with determination turns to Anna before popping the locks to her rental car.
"No, but seriously, when?" she finally asks and Anna's laugh follows them all the way back to the campground.
xo
Emma slams the car door and takes in the pristine campground, caravans parked to one side, tents to the other. It was midweek, so they were told the grounds would be quieter than on the weekends but there are still a few families sitting around picnic tables, barbecues just beginning to smoke and others such as themselves, setting up smaller tents and unfolding canvas chairs.
She takes a deep breath, enjoying the clean air, and glances up at the sky, happy to see patches of blue between the clouds, contrary to what the forecast had predicted. They seem to be setting up for a beautiful night but with the sun beginning to set, there is a slight chill the begins to fill the air.
She knows what to do and quickly slips on her newly purchased sweater, cuffs reaching to the tips of her fingers and breathes a sigh.
"Come on."
Anna grabs her hand and leads her down the pebbled path.
They hear the boys before they see them, voices floating over the tents, and when they round the corner a burst of laughter from two new guests reaches them as well but before Emm can introduce herself, Anna pulls her up short.
"Wait," she whispers.
Emma frowns, confused as to what she is supposed to be seeing.
She gets flicked in the forehead for it.
"Hey, what was that for?"
Anna shakes her head and turns Emma to face Killian.
"Girl. Look at him. GET. IT."
Killian is in the middle of a deep pull from his beer, legs stretched out in front of him. His white tee pulling nicely across his chest, his cheeks flushed from the battle with the tent. He looks relaxed, happy, and not appearing to show a care in the world.
It's a really good look on him.
"Find a dark corner or something," Anna adds and steps away, leaving Emma a little off-kilter and stuck in place when Killian finally looks up. He catches the last bit of beer with the tip of his tongue before a smile stretches across his lips. He's out of his chair and to her before she can even think of moving.
"You finally got it. Looks cozy," he says quietly, slipping them into their own little bubble as his fingers find her hip, sliding under her sweater.
She shivers at his touch, his fingers cold from the bottle and then sucks in a breath as the neck of the beer bottle brushes up against her bare skin.
He grins further and she can only shake her head.
"Are we all set up?" she asks glancing around him, the tents look ready and a fire is just beginning to crackle.
"Mmm," he hums in agreement before leaning in to whisper, "Want to see the inside of the tent?"
Yes, she wants to yell but instead her fingers close around his beer and she steals it away, taking her own deep pull.
"C'mon you guys, separate yourselves and come meet Belle and Jasmine!" Anna yells out, causing Emma to jump and slide her gaze over to Anna. Traitor, she mouths before offering the women an apologetic smile. She gives Killian his beer back and steps close once again.
"You know I do. But -" Her eyes dart between the thin fabric of the tent that sits a few feet away from them, the zippered door facing a young family enjoying their picnic dinner.
"Don't say it," he pleads, stopping her short, knowing she's right.
She leans up, pressing the beer into his chest and leaves him with a chaste kiss to his lips that he tries to follow but she steps back.
"Anyway, we should probably go meet those women who I'm sure are already Anna's new best friends."
She glances over his shoulder at the two women who are now in deep conversation with Anna.
She feels Killian's groan when he drops his forehead to her neck, gathering her close.
"Doesn't mean we can't uh," she hesitates when she feels him freeze. He pulls back and his eyes are darker, searching hers. "Uh, you know, find a dark corner or something later."
"Or something," he echoes.
It sounds like a promise she doesn't want to break.
xo
The campground has slipped into darkness, and the sounds of the day have tapered to a low hum, interrupted only by the occasional burst of laughter and crackle from the fire. More people have joined their circle, kindred travellers easily sharing stories, drinks, and a marshmallow or two.
The clinking of bottles in a cooler is a near constant accompaniment to the soft strums of a guitar, meandering notes, not quite ready to break into song yet.
And Emma steps into the middle of it all, actually feeling like she belongs.
"Tada!" She sweeps her arms out in show and just manages to stay on her feet, the weight of her new backpack tilting her backwards.
Anna's hands behind her, keeping her upright also help. The alcohol coursing through her veins does not.
Heads turn in her direction but she only searches for one pair of eyes. She finds them over the flicker of flames, and they look more concerned than amused.
"What did you do with your suitcase?" Killian asks, getting up to take a look at her pack.
"I traded it in!"
"I didn't mind helping, you know that," he whispers and she steps up to place a kiss on his cheek.
"I know, but this is so much easier and more importantly, how cool do I look now?!"
Emma tries to do a pirouette to show it off but the bag filled with all her worldly possessions nearly pitches sideways. Killian catches her by the straps and tugs her close, a smile finally beginning to pull at his lips.
"Oh so very cool, Swan," he whispers, seeming content to hold on tight and she content to let him.
"What's the story here?" the petite woman named Belle asks, gesturing with her roasting stick, a plump golden marshmallow on the tip.
"It's how they met!" Anna swoons, falling into a chair, hand over her heart.
Emma glances around and swallows hard at the sudden interest in everyone's eyes.
"Well…" Emma starts but Killian silences her with a kiss.
"I made fun of her big city suitcase. She called me a travel snob, and a cretin -"
"I think it was a creep," Emma interrupts, her mind going back to that first meeting and his very tiny towel.
Killian stares her down, his eyes holding the full story, the one beyond the jokes, the one just for them.
"And a few other choice words but once we got that misunderstanding out of the way, she so graciously allowed me to cook her dinner and carry her suitcase," Killian continues to explain in the briefest of terms but pauses to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
"And we've been travelling together ever since," Emma adds.
"How long?" another voice asks, Emma looks over to see Jasmine eagerly awaiting her answer.
"Days!" Kristoff calls out.
"Weeks!" Anna replies with a laugh and neither Killian nor Emma stop to correct them and most around the fire just smile, falling back into their own conversations.
"Feels like forever," Killian whispers.
Emma searches his face, anything she could say, stuck in her throat, so she kisses him instead. Long, lingering, leaving her lightheaded and with a full heart.
"I think, um, I think I'm going to go change into something more comfortable," she finally says quietly, taking a step back, his hand lingers near her strap, making sure she is steady on her feet.
"Yeah? Where are you..." his question trails off, looking down the dark path and then back to her.
She tilts her head, biting her lip. She nods towards the showers and change rooms.
"I'll be back in a bit."
With a last look and fingers drifting across his, she heads down the gravel path.
xo
She moves slow, her mind elsewhere as she drops her pack on to the bench in the stall and wanders to the sink. She's alone in the small locker room, sounds from the outside muted. Inside every movement echoes off the ceramic tiled walls and floor: the smack of her flip flops, the gush of water in the sink. She bends to splash some water against her face and sighs at the cold, refreshing feeling. She's blindly reaching for a paper towel when the door swings in with a bang, its hinges protesting the sudden motion.
She nearly jumps out of her skin, standing up and grabbing the counter's edge.
She looks over, prepared to scream when she spots Killian, carrying red plastic cups, one in his hand, the other in the crook of his elbow. He leans back against the door and grins.
"Hi."
"Christ, Killian! You scared me," she scolds, padding over, but as soon as she's in front, he urges her back. She hesitantly matches his steps, walking backward for every step forward.
"Apologies, love. Here," he gestures to his elbow and she takes the newly filled solo cup. The beer is cold and crisp on her tongue and she gulps down her first few sips, while her heart continues to beat a staccato rhythm against her ribs.
She suddenly finds herself backed into her stall and watches wordlessly as he flips the lock.
She takes another sip as he places his cup next her pack and peels off his shirt.
"Wait, what are you-"
He grins stepping forward, taking her cup from her hand, safely placing it beside his.
"Taking advantage of the quiet moments and -"
He pauses his explanation to run his fingers at the edge of her sweater, and tugs it up, insisting on a little help.
She's powerless to resist, arms lifting of their own accord. When she pops back out, sweater tossed onto the bench, she blinks at him with wide eyes.
"And this -" another pause, long enough for him to crowd into her space, backing her into the shower. "Is a quiet moment."
"We can't, can we?" she whispers, eyes roving over his chest, watching where his fingers are hovering over the button on his shorts.
He pauses and she sighs. He looks up under his lashes and grins.
"Let's see," he whispers, leaning past her and suddenly she's hit with a burst of cold water.
She can't help the small cry but he swallows it with his mouth. It's more of a chuckle than a kiss from him as she feels his smile spread against her mouth.
"Oops."
"Oops, my ass," she mumbles against his lips but lets herself be pulled into the kiss, and feels her body relax as the water warms against her back.
"You'll get us both kicked out," she whispers when he steps back and tries not to worry about the water soaking through her clothes. How can she when he completely ignores her statement, instead dropping his shorts and briefs without any preamble. He steps back close, giving her no time to think that this is the first time she's seeing him completely naked and god is it a good look on him, even better than relaxed Killian and - they aren't actually going to fuck in here are they?
"No, love, as you so succinctly put it, I'm not going to fuck you for the first time in a campground shower. But, that doesn't mean, so help me God, that we can't have a little fun."
She can't believe she said that out loud.
She can't believe the situation she's found herself in.
She can't believe how badly she wants it.
The water stops, and he leans past her to turn it on again before lowering to his knees.
"Wha, what are you?" she whispers, her breath catching as his fingers deftly pop the button on her shorts and he tugs them and her underwear down quickly and deliberately.
She gasps when they land with a loud plop somewhere behind him.
"Killian," she scolds, but somehow it sounds more like a sigh as her hands find their way into his hair. She tightens her grip when his lips taste the skin on the inside of her thigh, and his eyes find hers.
"As long as you can stay quiet we'll be just fine."
His words float up her thighs, tease where she's aching for him, and tighten her nipples against the wet fabric of her bra.
And desperately she needs out of every last piece of clothing, it's too tight, too constricting. Keeping even a small piece of her, away from every part of him is just not acceptable. Her fingers fumble with the clasp and finally, tossing her bra away, she is completely naked.
But still, her mind races even as her fingers slip into his hair once again.
"But, what if?" she asks, her breath coming in quicker pants, as his fans over the center of her.
She knows she's wetter than the water pouring over her and when his fingers find out for themselves, she gasps out loud.
"Ah, ah, ah. You have to be quiet. You can do that, can't you, sweetheart?"
He watches her intently as his fingers tease, his lips getting ever closer, she nods but when he adds a second finger, she hiccups out another soft cry that echoes off the walls.
He grins, while scolding her.
"Tsk, tsk, Emma."
"I can't, I can't," she whimpers, her voice rising, too consumed with want, too much longing, too many nights without.
He rises, every hard inch of him, brushing up against her, his fingers never stopping their steady rhythm, his cock trapped between them.
The water stops again and they both groan but he just backs her further, until her back bumps against the wall and he reaches blindly with his wrist for the button. When the water rushes out again, he bows his head, letting it run over his back as his lips find her pulse point, gently sucking. She chokes back her gasp as he pulls back, dark eyes finding hers, pinning her in place.
"See, you can. You are so good, Emma. So beautiful, so wet -"
"Just for you," her whispered words tumble out. She barely recognizes the breathless voice, a desire she wants to embrace and when she's rewarded with a knowing smile, she does. She closes her eyes and lets herself feel, lets her body tighten with every pass of his fingers, with his thumb adding pressure, with lips and teeth closing in on her earlobe, his own breath coming out more harshly.
"Aye. Only for me and now I want all of you. Let me feel you, love. So perfect, so warm. God, I want to be inside you. Will you let me in?"
With every low word he speaks, she feels herself slip closer to the edge, she feels her body tighten.
"Yes, please, please, please."
"Oh, love, soon. I promise. But let me feel you fall."
His lips leave her skin and he says nothing more until she forces her eyes on him, losing herself in the blue. He nods.
"That's it, let go."
And that's all it takes, his gentle command, his eyes holding so many unspoken emotions and a last pass of his thumb, and she's unraveling in his arms.
A hiccupped moan escapes before she buries her face in his neck, putting her own mark on his skin as he continues to whisper his praises.
How good she feels, how perfect.
She shivers as his fingers leave her and find her naked hip, squeezing. She takes another shuddered breath as she finally pulls back and crushes her mouth to his, mumbled thanks like prayers against his lips.
And finally, once her heart calms just a little -
"You, your turn."
She moves away, just enough to find him hard and straining against her belly. She grasps him tightly and he shudders.
"I'm sorry, love, I'm so-" his words stutter out on a groan.
"Shh," she whispers, finally able to tease him with a chide of her own, lightened by the smile on her lips. She gives him another pass, from base to tip and he drops his head to her shoulder.
"I'm so close from just hearing you, I can't-"
It takes just a few more strokes and he's coming too, breathing heavy into her neck, adding a new mark.
The water stops and starts a few more times before they both eventually get their breathing back to normal.
Finally, Killian squeezes her hip, waiting for her to look up and when she does, he offers her a brilliant smile, and any nerves she may have had from what they had just done, float away with the steam.
"Hi there," she whispers, and laughs when his lips meet hers, once, twice, before falling into a long, deep kiss. She feels herself pulling him closer, even while she knows they shouldn't be pushing their luck.
"Tomorrow. Tomorrow we get our own room. I don't care if I must rent out the whole hostel. I'm not sharing you with anyone."
His words are low and full of promises she intends to make sure he keeps.
"Good," she whispers back, finally, regrettably, stepping away but she doesn't get far, his hand clasping hers. She looks over her shoulder and he groans.
"I think we may have just made matters worse."
And he pulls her back for one last kiss.
xo
Anna gives them a knowing look when they eventually make it back, damp hair and rosy cheeked, but she thankfully says nothing, at least not in regard to where they'd been or what they'd been doing. Instead she throws them a curveball.
"Killian, do you know any songs. You said your brother was in the Navy. You must know some sea shanties or something."
Emma steps falter, worried Anna has just stepped on some unknown landmine but Killian doesn't hesitate, continuing to lead them around the fire and to a free chair. He sits and pulls her onto his lap. He rests his chin against her shoulder and thinks. His lips drift up and down the curve of her neck before he seems to settle on something.
"I'm going to need you to keep time, love," he asks quietly and then looks around to the group. "You lot, too," he adds, with a teasing tone as he begins to pat her thigh to the beat.
And when Killian's voice rings out, Emma is completely unprepared for the sound of it, clear and strong into the quiet of the night.
Oh, the year was 1778
How I wish I was in Sherbrooke now.
But before he can continue, a voice from across the grounds joins in. Killian pauses and looks across the way to a smaller campfire.
"Well, come on now, if you know the song," he calls out.
Silence for a beat, then bottles clinking and finally two men appear, easy smiles, looking only a little sheepish.
"You mind if we join?" the taller of the two asks and then points to himself, "I'm Robin, and the singer here is Will," he taps his bottle against the man beside him.
Killian nods and Belle makes room on the bench beside her. They settle in and Killian presses his lips to Emma's neck, quietly chuckling at her shiver.
"The beat, my love."
She feels unsteady at first but with his help starts again, the new voices easily joining in at the right spots.
A letter of marque came from the king
To the scummiest vessel I've ever seen
God damn them all! I was told
We'd cruise the seas for American gold
All Emma can do is watch this beautiful man, as he closes his eyes and sings a song with so much emotion, that she is certain it's something he used to sing with his brother. But he doesn't look pained, so it's enough to let her fall into the tale and not worry as much.
We'd fire no guns, shed no tears
But I'm a broken man on a Halifax pier
The last of Barrett's Privateers.
But something else catches her attention, the conviction in which he calls out about being a broken man with each refrain. She wants to tell him how far from the truth it is, how whole he is. Such much so, he is filling her broken parts, and putting her back together.
If he can tell her of his past, and keep his brother's memory alive in stories and song and bring people together - maybe it's her turn to not be so scared.
Although for now, she is content to drop her head to his chest, feel the words burst from him and feel his arms tighten around her.
But tomorrow.
Tomorrow she could take the next step.
Thanks for reading!
What's something you treated yourself to on your latest travels?
See you next week for chapter 11!