Author's note: Another long one! I'm so glad people are still enjoying this story.
Disclaimer: Nope, still not mine.
Chapter 3
"Oh, that's much better," Emma mumbled, easing herself into the tub.
After Killian had left, Emma's first order of business was to call Elsa. Elsa had alternatively cheered and commiserated with her friend about the date. Emma still felt a measure of embarrassment about her behavior, especially getting wasted to the point of throwing up. That was the worst. She didn't even see how Killian could look at her.
But he did and a lot more besides if the way her lips had tingled long after he'd gone was any indication.
She'd sacked out on her couch, still tired, flipping channels. She must have fallen asleep—still in Killian's borrowed clothes—because the next thing she knew there was an awful crick in her back and shoulder. Which was what had led her to the bathroom. A good old fashioned bubble bath was just what she needed to rest and reset.
Soft music—one of Chopin's nocturnes, it was one of the few things about her mother that stuck—played in the background as Emma allowed the very warm water soothe her knotted muscles. Her eyes fell closed as she leaned her head back against the edge of the great porcelain tub. There was a hot tub in the enormous bathroom, but she didn't want all those jets and ripples. All she wanted was to lay back and relax.
She tried not to think about Killian. She really did. But his scent clung to her skin. Every time she reached for the soap to wash, she hesitated. There was no rational reason for it; she was going to see him again. It was likely, given their encounters so far, that this wouldn't be the last time she smelled like him.
It was a musky vaguely salty scent that sent shivers down her spine. She was fairly certain he didn't wear cologne—she knew them all—so this was purely him. The salt made sense; he worked with things in the ocean. But he also worked with his hands, fixing cars, trucks, who knew what else. Strong calloused hands that felt good on her skin.
Emma bit her lip, the warmth from her bath fogging the edges of her awareness. She could remember the way he'd touched her, delicate and needy at the same time, drawing the tiniest of reactions out of her.
She wished she hadn't been drunk last night so she could remember precisely what had happened in the alley. And what surely would have happened after.
A knot of desire bloomed at the apex of her thighs; Emma squeezed her legs together hoping to ease it. She shouldn't be fantasizing about him. Not after her behavior. Her body refused to listen to her. An image of his large mechanic's hands rose behind her closed lids, those hands caressing her stomach, along her legs. She'd caught him staring at her legs a few times, before things got hazy. She'd worn that dress with precisely that in mind.
Would he be gentle? Did she want him to be? She wasn't made of glass. And what she felt when they were close...that wasn't gentle either. It was passion; it ebbed and flowed, driven by his hands, his mouth.
Emma's hand slid underneath the water, skimming over the swell of her breast. Her breathing got shallow as she touched herself, the nipple hardening in the warm water. She did remember his mouth on her, the way he nibbled and sucked on her breasts. A jolt of want shot through her and Emma moaned softly. She'd felt it even then, the raw hunger, the desire to ride him until they were spent. She couldn't remember being that attracted to someone that fast, but Killian seemed to bring it out in her. Effortlessly, without even trying.
Her hips rolled in tub, the water swishing gently over her aching clit. Emma licked her lips, trying to imagine how he would touch her, his hands on her body. Her other hand dived into water, brushing her mound. She spread her legs as far as the tub would allow, not much, but just enough. Emma moaned again, the pads of her fingers sliding through her slit, the water and her arousal slick. Would he want her like this? Naked in the bathtub? Would he want to watch her? She'd never done that before and the idea turned her on more than it should. Putting herself on display was everything she hated.
But not with him.
Emma inhaled sharply as she imagined him there, hands resting on her knees, watching her touch herself. Her fingers moved faster, teasing her clit, her entrance. Water lapped around her, some spilling on the floor, but Emma was too far gone to care. She remembered his voice in her ear, low and guttural, encouraging her, wanting her. She whimpered, the pressure rising, eyes squeezed shut. She plucked at her nipple, thinking of him, his hands, wishing they were the ones touching her, bringing her pleasure.
"Oh, oh, oh," she gasped, the dam breaking at last, warmth flooding her. Her fingers kept moving, drawing it out, making her shiver. "Oh my god."
Still shaking, she drew her hand away, sinking down in the water, her skin flushed. It was a contrast to the cooling water, the bubbles nearly gone now. It was several more minutes before her wits returned, the full weight of what she'd done.
She couldn't remember the last time there was a face, a voice, a memory, to fuel her fantasies. Since her breakup with Neal, she'd gotten very well acquainted with her hand, her toys. None of which were there with her. She could—and did—go long stretches without sex, but Killian seemed to have turned her libido up to like, twelve.
Which was perfectly fine with her. If they ever got to the sex part, that is.
They would. She would make sure of it.
Emma sighed, finally reaching for the soap. She scrubbed her skin thoroughly before the water got any cooler, then got out. Her pruned fingers fumbled with the towel, Emma snarling before she got it untangled. She dried off and wrapped it tightly around her, heading for the oversized double vanity. She brushed her teeth, scrubbed her face, along with all the other bits of her nightly routine. She missed them the night before, passed out in Killian's bed.
She was brushing her damp hair when her phone rang. It was Killian. "Hello?"
"Hello, Emma." There were a series of harsh metallic sounds, then a thump, then silence. "There much better."
"Where are you?"
"I was still in the garage when I dialed. Sorry. In our break room now, such as it is."
"You're still at work?"
"Aye. Like to be until late, I'm afraid."
"Oh." She tried not to sound disappointed, but he had promised her a third date. One that would hopefully have a happier ending then the last.
"Don't fret, love. I've still got plans for us. You busy tomorrow night?"
She pretended to think, to consider, just because she could. "I don't think so," she hedged, biting back a smile he couldn't see.
"Because you've got so much going on," he said dryly.
"I was having a perfectly nice vacation before I met you, you know."
"Nice is for old people, love. You want spectacular."
"And you think you can give me that?" She thought about her little tub fantasy; her vacation from her life was already far more interesting than she'd imagined.
"Over and over again, lass." His voice dripped with seduction and want, his accent doing things to her. Emma had to cross her legs to ease the ache.
She blew out a breath she hoped he didn't hear. "I think you're all talk."
Killian's low chuckle crackled over the line. "Oh, I'm sure we'll get to that too, just you wait."
God, was there anything he couldn't turn into an innuendo? Not that she wanted him to stop, because...no. This was the most fun she'd had in months. "Perhaps you'll get your chance."
"I'm sure I will." There was some more metal scraping. "Speaking of which, are you allergic to anything?"
Emma's brow creased in confusion. "Um, not that I know of, why?"
"All part of the aforementioned plans," he said cryptically. "Low impact, as requested."
"Do I get any other clues?" She smiled into the mirror, winding a lock of damp hair around her finger. It was a nervous habit that her mother had tried to break her of, in vain.
"Hmmm, I don't think so. Wouldn't want to give away the game."
"Is this a game?"
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. "Does it feel like a game to you?"
"I asked you first." A bit childish perhaps, but suddenly she needed to know. To get some kind of sense that she wasn't the only one feeling that connection.
"No, lass. Definitely not a game." His voice was quiet now, no trace of bravado.
Emma let out a silent thankful breath. "But you still won't tell me?"
"Where's the fun in that?"
"Fine. Don't tell me." She pouted, even though he couldn't see her.
"Wear something casual, we won't be going far, I promise."
"Okay." She was definitely intrigued now. "But next time I'm planning the date."
"Now's who's certain there will be a next time?"
Emma cringed, realizing she'd probably blown her cover of indifference. "Shut up."
"Make me."
She rolled her eyes. "Are you three years old now?"
"Trust me, love, I am not a boy by any stretch of the imagination." Emma wet her lips, remembering the thickness of him between her thighs. No, Killian definitely was not a boy.
"Who says I've imagined anything?"
"If you've thought about me half as much as I've thought about you," he admitted, "then I know you have."
"You've thought about me?"
Killian let out a long exhale. "Aye, more than I should." What did that mean? "Blast it, I've got to get back," he said, sounding annoyed. "May I pick you up at seven, love?"
"Sure, see you then."
"Goodbye, Emma."
"Bye, Killian." They hung up, leaving Emma both eager and confused. Whatever was going on between them, it seemed like neither of them was really prepared for it or had any idea how to go about it. It was exciting and frightening at the same time.
Killian slid his phone into his pocket, emotions swirling in his head. What had he been thinking? Admitting how much she was getting to him was dangerous. She was dangerous, but he couldn't seem to help himself. His employment status aside, Emma already had a life. Sure, she'd voiced some frustration with it, but that didn't mean anything. Just could decide to up and go home at any moment, just as easily as she'd decided to run from her problems. She was rich; it wasn't like she needed to work, not like he did. Killian had to work to pay his rent, buy clothes, food.
She had nothing to hold her here. And where would that leave him?
Shaking off the thought, he headed back out to the garage. He was working on one of the service vehicles; the suspension was going. Too many ruts one the access roads, back where the guests didn't venture. But as always, as long as the main roads were smooth, Regina didn't care.
He put the truck on the hydraulic jack and flipped the switch. In moments, the tires were at his eye level and he went about removing them so he could get a better idea of what he was dealing with. Perhaps he wouldn't have to replace everything.
The fourth tire bounced a little on the concrete; he heard someone calling his name. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "What?"
"Calm down, mate. It's only me." Robin came out from around the side of the truck, frowning. "Something wrong?"
Killian shook his head, perhaps a little too quickly. "Not a thing, just focused, I guess." He often got in a zone while he was working; Will liked to joke that World War III could come through and Killian wouldn't notice.
Robin seemed to accept his white lie. "Well, I just got a call from one of the gardeners, his truck might have lost a brake line, ran into a palm tree."
"Any other damage?" Body work wasn't his specialty.
"According to Jefferson, he managed to save it with only a graze."
"Are we sure he's telling the truth?" Jefferson had a bit of a reputation; some people thought he was mad. He certainly was...eccentric, to say the least, but Killian liked him well enough.
Robin shrugged. "You know him as well as I do. Won't really know until we get it back here."
"You off to fetch him?"
"Soon, I wanted to run something else by you first." Robin had a look in his eye Killian knew well. He was matchmaking again.
"Robin," he said warningly. "We've talked about this."
"Now honestly, Killian," Robin huffed. "You don't even know what I was going to say!"
"No, but I know you well enough to get the gist. Stop trying to fix me up!"
"But why? You have no life outside of this place—no, don't try to get cute and bring Will into this, you know as well as I do that his idea of a relationship is—"
"A shot of whiskey and willing lass?" Will sauntered into the garage like he owned the place, hands shoved in his pockets. "Anyway, mate, yer wasting yer time. Jones here's already found himself a proper lady friend."
Robin looked stunned. "You did?! When? And why am I just hearing about this now?"
Killian rolled his eyes. "The bloody hell is wrong with you two? You hover more than a sodding mother hen!"
"We're just worried about you," Robin said, a bit hurt. "We're your friends."
"He's worried about ya," Will corrected. "I just think ya need ta get laid."
"Will," Robin admonished.
"And ya do too, mate," Will continued, as if Robin hadn't spoken. "Yer too tightly wound by half."
"I have a son," Robin reminded him. "I can't just go galavanting off!"
"So mothering Jones here is the answer?" Will scoffed.
"Hey!" Killian cut in. "Right here, you berk." Then he turned to Robin. "Although, the idiot does have a point, Robin. Why aren't you dating?" Marian had been dead for a couple of years now; his friend didn't seem to be mourning her still. He accepted she was gone.
"We're not talking about me," Robin grumbled.
"Well, we're bloody well not talking about me," Killian spat. "I've heard enough of it from this one." He jabbed a finger at Will. "What are you even doing here anyway?"
"Came to see if I'd left my other uniform in yer Jeep," he replied, shrugging. "But this was more fun."
Killian sighed, digging in his pocket for his keys. "Go. And bring them back!" he called to Will's retreating back.
"Do you think he'd ever going to get out of this rut?" Robin asked, watching Will walk away as well.
"Is that what you think I'm in? A rut?" It came out more biting than he intended.
"You are entirely different. I was starting to wonder if you even liked lasses," Robin said, very seriously. "Which would be completely fine."
Killian glared, realizing Robin was just taking the mickey out of him. "I would think my so called friend would know me better than that."
Robin laughed. "Who knows, perhaps you had a crush on me. Roguish older man."
"No offense, mate, but hell and no."
Robin's eyes twinkled with mirth, but he shook his head. "Pity, that. So who's this lass our Will was talking about?"
"Probably no one. Been out a couple of times, no big deal." There was no way in hell he was telling Robin who Emma was. Robin might not turn him in, but he wasn't above laying on the fatherly guilt trip.
"Killian, you never see anyone more than once. And rarely at that."
"She's just a girl, Robin. I like her. Can we leave it at that?" He knew full well Emma wasn't just anything, but he truly didn't want to talk about it. Not when his own feelings on it were so conflicted. He knew he shouldn't want her, but he couldn't stop. The way he felt when he was around her...or when he thought about her...he didn't want to give it up. It was selfish, too selfish, but damn it, he'd earned a bit of selfish.
He'd been alone for so long.
Robin held up his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. I'll leave you to it then."
"Thanks."
There was a light knock on the metal frame of the oversized doorway. "Mr. Locksley?" a crisp female voice asked. "Might I have a word?"
Killian groaned inwardly. It was the resort manager, Regina Mills. She hardly ever came by the garages, too busy with some other area to bother with them. But now the woman who wouldn't hesitate to fire him for his secret was standing ten feet from him.
Robin smiled. It struck Killian as odd; he'd never seen that smile on his friend's face before. Strained but happy? So weird. "Indeed, Ms. Mills. I was just on my way to retrieve one of our trucks from the gardens, but it can wait."
"Good," Regina replied, stepping deeper into the garage. Her power business suit was pressed and clean; her hair and makeup made her look older than she was. Killian knew her to be in her mid thirties. She was attractive if one liked a power hungry demeanor. It was more like she was the sodding President than a simple hotel manager. "There have been several complaints I've been meaning to discuss with you."
Complaints? Could the witch already know? Killian didn't see how. He didn't drive his Jeep all over the property, just to and from the garage. If he needed to go somewhere on the property, he used one of the official vehicles. But his Jeep would be recognizable, due to the skull and crossbones painted on the doors. Fuck.
He went back to his task, his back to the couple as they talked in hushed tones. He strained his ears trying to hear what they were saying, but he could only make out a handful of words. None of them were his name, so he chose to take it as a good sign.
"What's the Evil Queen doing here?" Will hissed, nearly scaring Killian to death.
"Bloody hell," Killian whispered, kicking his friend in the shin. "Shut up for once in your life!"
"Jeez, mate, ya'd think I'd ta killed your cat or somethin'. Oh wait. Ya don't have one." Will scowled and handed Killian back his keys. "Next time I'll just pick them off ya. Faster anyway."
"Can you just go?" He was still trying to hear what Robin and Regina were saying.
"What's gotten into you?"
"Nothing."
"Liar. Takes one to know."
"Is there a problem here?" Regina cut in, looking annoyed at being interrupted.
Killian glared at Will, then stood to his fullest height. "Will was just leaving, weren't you?"
Will scowled but nodded. "Yeah. Just...ya know...visitin' a friend."
"Is it a custom where you come from to interrupt people during their working hours?"
"Had ta get my uniform out of his car if ya must know," Will said, staring her down, unafraid. Killian couldn't count the number of times they'd gotten into tussles due to that look. Only this time they could both get fired, as opposed to black eyes.
"What was it doing there?"
"Is that yer business?"
Regina bristled. "Impertinent too. What, were you raised in a barn?"
Robin stepped in. "I believe what Will here is trying to say is that his friend Killian gave him a ride to work last week when he had car trouble. You just left the uniform there by accident, didn't you, Will?"
"You know him?" Regina snapped.
Robin nodded. "Well, there aren't many ex-pat Englishmen in this part of Oahu," he said reasonably. "We have to stick together."
Killian held his breath as Regina processed that. "Yes, well, next time get your clothes back on your own time," she warned, nodding at Will. "Now, if you don't mind, Mr. Locksley, I have other matters to attend to. I trust you have things well in hand."
"Yes, Miss. It will be taken care of immediately." That didn't really make Killian feel better. He tossed a glance at Will, who shrugged and headed back to his own car. Ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach, Killian went back to the faulty suspension he'd been working on. If Robin wanted to talk to him, he would.
Robin disappeared for a while; Killian thought he saw him slip back to his office out of the corner of his eye. He was replacing the rear driver's side strut when his boss reappeared. "So I've got good news and bad news."
"I really hate that saying. Out with it, Locksley."
"The good news is that you're getting a raise. And some more hours, if you want them. The bad news is I had to let Smee go."
"Smee? Why?" The man was short and fat and a bit lazy, but Killian had never expected him to get fired.
"Regina's orders. She didn't give me the particulars."
"Just ordered you to be the one to swing the hatchet. There is something wrong with that woman."
"She's just doing her job, Killian. This is a huge resort."
"Did you know she fired two people in the laundry for spreading rumors about her last year?"
Robin shifted uncomfortably. "That's not our problem. As long as we do our jobs..."
"Fine. When do these new hours start?" He had his research...and Emma, but he could definitely use the extra cash.
"Tomorrow?"
Killian shook his head. "I've already made plans."
"With your girlfriend?"
"She is not my girlfriend! We've been out twice, for Christ's sake!" Granted, they'd been out only twice and he knew the look on her face when she orgasmed. And her smile. And the way she kissed, kissed like it was the last thing she would ever do. Stop it, Jones.
Robin just grinned. "Okay. I can get John to cover."
"He won't even fit under the cars!" John was not exactly a small man. In fact, he was very large and portly.
"So we'll raise them up," Robin countered. "Besides, this is only until I can hire someone else, then things should go back to normal."
"Good, I've got too much bloody well going on already," Killian muttered.
"I won't forget this, Killian. You need anything you ask, okay?"
"Get outta here, mate. Jefferson probably thinks you drove right off the beach."
"Shit," Robin cursed, yanking out his keys. "See you later." Sprinting for the tow truck, he was gone.
Great, he thought as he went back to work. One more thing to juggle...
"Where are we going?" Emma asked curiously. Killian's Jeep wove through the resort traffic; wherever they were going it wasn't there.
"Impatient lass, aren't you?" he said, flashing her a grin.
"Maybe I'm just not crazy about surprises," she countered. She looked around, but she didn't know the roads well enough yet to just know where they were going.
"That would be a pity."
"Why?"
"Because you'd be sucking all the fun out of life, love."
"There's nothing wrong with a little structure." Okay, now she sounded defensive.
"Of course not, you should leave a little room for spontaneity."
"Like flying to Hawaii on a whim?"
He smiled conspiratorially at her just before the light changed. "Exactly."
It sounded so good when he put it like that. Perhaps she could learn to embrace her more spontaneous side. Emma didn't question him again, merely enjoying the drive. It took nearly a half hour to get to where they were going, which turned out to be a field. A field on the low rise about a mile back from the beach. She could just make out a handful of surfers taking advantage of the last hour or so if daylight off in the distance.
Wearing her boots rather than heels, Emma climbed down from the Jeep herself, eyes popping at the picturesque view. The sun was off to her left, still just above the treeline. A thick carpet of green grass under her feet, getting scrubbier as she looked out toward the beach and the ocean, waves lapping at the shore. Behind her was a lush forest of trees—palm and otherwise—stretching up to the foot of the nearby peak.
There was no one else around; it felt secluded even though they were out in the open. She wanted to look everywhere at once, only stopping when she caught sight of Killian's face. He looked both happy and nervous, a question in his blue eyes.
"It's beautiful," she said, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
"A good surprise then?"
"Yeah." Central Park had nothing on this.
Emma did a little exploring while Killian pulled some things from his Jeep. He'd kept the backseat covered with a blanket and as he worked, Emma discovered why. He'd brought them a picnic, complete with a basket. That explained why he'd wanted to know if she had any allergies. Alongside the basket was a cooler, a cloth bag and the blanket.
"You did all this yourself?" she asked, helping him stretch out the blanket on a relatively flat patch of ground.
"Most of it." He made it sound like it was no big deal, but Emma could tell it was. His shoulders were tenser than usual, his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Was he nervous? Was he afraid she wouldn't like something?
Emma crossed the small space, putting a hand on his arm. "Hey, this is amazing. I've never been on a date like this before."
"Really?"
"Not much open space in New York," she reminded him.
"Well, I'm glad we can remedy that here," he said, his smile a lot more genuine this time. He carefully brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it; Emma didn't know people still did that, it left her a little flustered.
"Yeah, well, it's...um, nice."
"It'll get better," he promised. "Shall we?"
Emma nodded wordlessly, allowing Killian to lower her to the blanket. She arranged her black skirt demurely, wondering what had possessed her to wear it. It wasn't fancy or anything, just a simple black skirt that swished pleasantly around her thighs, coupled with a sleeveless white blouse that wound around her neck.
She happened to glance up at that moment; Killian was staring at her, a mixture of awe, desire and something she couldn't identify reflected in his eyes. That was why she'd worn this particular outfit. She really liked the way he looked at her. Like she was the only person for a thousand miles. It gave her butterflies, the good kind.
"Are we planning on eating at some point?" she asked, smirking up at him.
"I didn't bring any ice cream," he said, unashamed of being caught. He plopped down next to her, keeping some space between them.
Emma's cheeks warmed, remembering. Ice cream would never quite be the same again, would it? "That's okay. I'm sure you've brought something equally delicious."
"That, love, I can absolutely guarantee." He looked her up and down, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Emma inhaled sharply, breaking his gaze before she did something rash. She really wanted to enjoy this date. If she kissed him, she might not be able to stop.
"So what do we have?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the ocean.
"A little of this, a little of that." Killian dug inside the bag, pulling out some paper plates and to Emma's surprise, a couple of wine glasses. She turned when she heard the clink.
"Wine? Are we sure that's a good idea?"
Killian grinned, handing her the glass. "Just a glass or two, love. I want you with me the whole evening."
"I want that too." After the way their last date ended, she really wanted to know where it would have led. She knew she liked spending time with him, would being with him be just as good? There was only one way to find out.
Killian was quiet as he unpacked the rest of their feast. There was a bottle of wine, naturally, along with small hoagie like sandwiches. There were also some things Emma couldn't identify, but everything smelled great. Suddenly, her stomach rumbled; she must have been hungrier than she thought, having been too busy getting ready for her date to eat much.
"What is all this?"
Killian shrugged. "Just a few things from home. I thought you might like them."
He remembered. Remembered that she'd been to London with her dad. And more importantly, he was sharing just a bit of himself with her. "Well, it all smells great. But isn't this like a lot of work?" She could hardly boil water most days and here he was feeding her sandwiches and kebabs and little wrap things.
"I've had to fend for myself for quite a while," he explained. "So I learned."
"Can I?" Emma pointed at one of the kebabs.
"Of course." He held up the container for her. Emma reached in and extracted one, bringing it to her lips. He watched as she bit into it, plucking one of the pieces of meat—chicken as it turned out.
Emma's eyes fell closed as she hummed in pleasure. "Wow, that's really good," she said, swallowing.
Killian scratched behind his ear. "I know it's not what you're used to..."
"Killian," she said seriously, cutting him off. "This is really, really good. I promise." She took another bite for good measure, just to wipe the apprehensive look on his face.
"It seems my mother was right then."
"About what?"
"Nothing. It's just her recipe, is all."
"Really?"
"Well, mostly. I may have experimented a bit. She was always doing that when we were young."
"We?"
"Me and my brother. Liam. He was a few years older than me."
Was. Always was. And he'd been fending for himself for a while. Was that why he didn't like personal questions? Was his family gone? Emma couldn't imagine. As much as her mother sometimes annoyed her, Emma couldn't imagine her gone.
"Is that why you came to Hawaii?" Emma asked gently. She didn't want to pry, but she wanted to know him.
Killian went about filling her plate, but nodded. "Aye. They died...quite a few years a go now. Liam first, my mother not long after. It's just me now."
Emma wanted to ask where his father was, but didn't dare. She was sure that was more sharing than Killian was ready for. "I'm sorry."
"The past is the past, love," he said simply. "Starting over in a new place...helps. Meeting new people...well, I can say that definitely has its perks." He handed her the plate, their fingers brushed and Emma felt it again, that connection. In a way, she was starting over, or at least, trying to.
"Yeah, meeting new people is definitely a good thing," she agreed. She smiled warmly at him, happy to be spending this time with him.
Killian filled his own plate, then poured them each a glass of wine. "To starting over?" he said, holding up his glass.
"To starting over." They clinked glasses and took a sip. It wasn't as crisp as what Emma was used to, but she found herself liking the earthiness of it. It was a lot bolder than so much of the upscale expensive wine she had at home. They ate slowly, talking about nothing in particular. It was refreshing to just enjoy a casual conversation, to not worry about impressing anyone. Killian had already seen her worst and still wanted to be with her.
He was telling a story about he and his friend Will hiking up the mountain when Emma burped. Loudly. She covered her mouth in horror, a flush creeping up her neck. "Oh my god," she muttered. Her mother would be horrified. "Sorry!"
Killian cocked his head at her. "What the bloody hell are you apologizing for?"
"Because...because...it's rude?"
"Emma, it's a bodily function. Trust me, everyone does it," To prove his point, he belched too. Quite impressively actually.
Emma's nose wrinkled in mock distaste. "Oh gross!" She shoved at him playfully, trying not to smile.
Killian caught her arm, tugging her bodily into his lap. Luckily, most of the food had been set aside and tucked away or that move would have gotten very messy. Emma squealed and squirmed, laughter tumbling from her lips as she tried to get out of his hold. Admittedly, it was a half hearted attempt, but Killian was stronger than she expected. His arms were locked tight around her as they fell on the ground, the blanket not doing much to cushion them.
They were still wrestling when Emma realized Killian was looming over her, breathing hard, cheeks red, eyes bright. Gradually, she stilled, eyes locked with his. "We're missing the sunset," she said softly.
"Aye." He stared at her for another long moment, the back of his hand coming up to skim her cheekbone. Instinctively, she leaned into his touch, skin tingling. Before she could do anything else, he moved, rolling off her and sitting up. Emma bit back a whine of disappointment, cold, cold rejection rushing down her spine.
But Killian surprised her again, urging her to sit up. Gently, he pulled her back against his chest so they were facing west. The sky was illuminated in reds and yellows and purples as the sun approached the horizon. It was gorgeous.
Emma smoothed out her skirt, letting her back settle against Killian's warmth. His arms came around her, one hand threading with hers. It was a very intimate gesture, and Emma found she didn't mind it. They were quiet, enjoying each other's company as the sun got closer and closer to the ocean.
"Do you know why I love the ocean?" Emma said, breaking the silence. The sun was nearly gone; it was mostly dark around them now.
"Why, love?"
"Because it's always changing. No wave is the same. Here...it's different here, the smell, the way the waves crash. I bet the storms are different too."
"They are," Killian confirmed. "In England, everything's cold and wet when it storms. Even after, the air feels heavy, thick. Most of the storms move slowly, soaking everything in their path."
"Do you miss it?" There was a hint of nostalgia in his voice and her heart ached for him.
His hand tightened ever so slightly in hers. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I rather like where I am now."
Emma smiled even though he couldn't really see her face. "Yeah, I like where I am now too." Hoping for a happier topic, she asked, "So how did you get into marine biology?"
"Well, I've always loved the ocean. We spent a lot of time on the coast when I was a child. Running around building sandcastles and such. One day—I was about five, I think—I stepped on a starfish. I thought I'd killed it, but Liam assured me that I hadn't. He showed me all the parts of it, how it ate and such. We waded out into the ocean and let it loose. I've been studying things that live in the sea ever since."
"That's a long time."
"Aye, but when you're passionate about something..."
"A long time doesn't seem that long," she finished for him. She'd been hoping to follow in her father's footsteps for as long as she could remember, so she understood. Unlike, Killian though, she didn't have much to show for it.
"Precisely." His lips brushed the top of her head. "Would you like to go home?"
"No, not yet. Tell me more." She listened as he told her about some of the projects he'd worked on, the research. He thought she'd get bored, but she enjoyed it. She could hear how much his work meant to him, getting to sail on the open ocean. As he talked, they started to put away their picnic, Emma helping load everything back into the Jeep. After they finished, he helped her climb up onto the hood of the Jeep.
"Granted, I don't get to sail as often as I would like," Killian was saying.
"You have a boat?"
Killian's arm came around her shoulders. "Just a small one. I leave her tied up at the marina because I don't have the money to sail her all that much. I only get to use her when I'm checking my traps."
"Traps?"
"For my thesis. I have some traps laid out off the coast, checking water temperatures, acidity, pollution. I have to check the readings every so often and collect my specimens."
"Sounds complicated."
"It can be. But it's important research. Like I said, there are many endangered species in the area, having this place get invaded for half the year for those bloody surfing competitions may not be such a good thing."
"I don't think the tourist industry would agree with you."
"Well, they can just sod off. Let's see how well they enjoy their vacation when all the sea life is dead and the reefs start falling apart."
She heard the anger in his voice; he really did love what he did. Emma reached over and took his other hand in hers, squeezing lightly. "So, sailor, can you navigate by the stars?" The sky glittered above them, brighter than in New York. There was too much light pollution in the city; even out at their Long Island home, she could only see the brightest stars. Here there were so many; it took her breath away.
His white smile shone in the darkness. "Indeed I can. Very well, princess."
"Would you show me?"
"You have to lay back," he replied in a hushed tone. Emma did as he bid, shivering as the cool metal of the Jeep hit her bare shoulders. Killian was right beside her, arm brushing hers. His fingers twined loosely with hers and he lifted her arm up. "You see that bright star there?"
Emma followed where he was pointing. "I think so. Is it blue?"
Killian chuckled. "Very good. Now watch my hand." She watched as he traced a path in the sky. "That's called the Northern Cross, most helpful for navigation."
"Like the North Star?"
"Aye. We're a bit too far south to see that one clearly, so this works just as well. Although, that constellation has another name I'm rather fond of."
"What is it?"
"It's called Cygnus."
Emma looked over at him curiously. "The swan? What's so great about that?"
"You know your Latin. I'm impressed, love." He moved their hands again, tracing the outline of the constellation. "Swans are graceful, majestic. A bit like you."
Emma snickered. "I'm fairly certain that I am nothing like a swan. Every time I see you I do something decidedly not graceful." Spilling her coffee, hurling along the side of road and tripping, now burping? Emma was easily the least graceful person on the planet.
"I can think of a time where you were very graceful." His voice was low, with a gravely tone that made her heart race. Almost unconsciously, she slid closer, feeling the heat radiating off his body. "Eating ice cream."
"I didn't get very much of it." She turned her head to look at him, tongue darting out to wet her lips. She could feel the air crackling around them again, the way it always seemed to when they were close like this, the tension palpable.
"Well, you decided to share if I recall correctly."
"I thought you should try it."
He smirked. "It was the second best thing I tasted that day."
"What was the first?"
Killian brought their joined hands down and moved so he was on his side, facing her. "You." His free hand cradled her cheek, gently guiding her toward him. Emma made no move to stop him, her blood thrumming in anticipation of his kiss. She moaned in relief when he finally kissed her, mouth slanting over hers. His fingers were rough but his lips were soft, molding perfectly with hers. She covered his hand with hers, rolling onto her side as well, itching to touch him.
He broke the kiss with a ragged breath, forehead pressed to hers. "I've been wanting to do that all day," he said, fingers combing through her hair.
"Funny, I've wanting that too."
"So why didn't you?"
"Why didn't you?"
Killian laughed, drawing their lips together again. "I didn't want to presume. I am a gentleman, love."
"You can kiss me whenever you want. For future reference."
"Oh, don't give me that much of a license, Emma. Because I'd never stop kissing you."
"Not exactly complaining over here." Then to shut him up, she surged forward and kissed him. Killian grunted in surprise as the force of her kiss drove him back, landing on the hood of the Jeep with a thump. Emma nipped at his lips, sucking the lower into her mouth, her core clenching when he moaned low in his throat. She got up on her knees and straddled him, her panty clad core rubbing against the denim of his shorts.
Killian's hands slid over her body, down her back, cupping her ass. "Bloody hell, I want you so much."
Emma bit her lip, hips rolling as he squeezed her ass. "Me too." Once again, they were in an inconvenient place. Alone. With no one around. Still, part of her wanted their first time to be in a bed. Or at least indoors. She sat up, reaching behind for his hand.
"Emma?"
"Touch me," she said, slipping his hand under her skirt. "Then you can take me home and...oh."
Killian grinned, his fingers shoving aside her panties and petting her damp core. "And what, love? This?" He rubbed her clit in slow circles, making Emma shiver. "Or this?" He glided through her folds, the tips of his fingers teasing her entrance. Emma bit back her moan, rocking her hips, trying to ride him, but he remained out of reach. "Tell me what you want, Emma."
"I want you inside me," she said, her voice strained and breathless. "I want you every way we know and a few we make up, just please don't stop."
"Fucking hell." Killian sat up, sliding her back a bit in his lap, his hand never leaving her. His movements sped up, fingers finally...finally dipping inside her heat. Emma ground her hips down, trying to feel everything. Killian crushed his lips to hers, tongue delving into her mouth. Emma clutched at him desperately, the pressure mounting, her orgasm so, so close. His fingers curled just right and she cried out.
"Oh yes, right there. Fuck."
"That's it," he growled. "Come for me, Emma."
Stars burst behind her eyes, a litany of curses falling from her lips as she fell apart. Killian held her firmly, not letting her fall, drawing it out with his talented fingers. Emma shivered hard, fingers still gripping his shoulders. "Oh...god," she breathed, leaning into him as he gently pulled his hand away. He wiped his fingers on her skirt, but Emma didn't care. It would wash.
"You are so beautiful when you come," he whispered, kissing her shoulder. He stroked her back until she was breathing normally again. "Still with me?"
Emma raised her head, nodding. "I think...you should take me home now," she said, cradling his face with her hands. "I've got a few things I'd like to do to you."
He was still trying to believe this was happening. Killian kept running the events of the last half hour in his head as he drove, mindful of Emma's hand resting lightly on his thigh. He knew their attraction would boil over at some point, but he hadn't expected her to be so...forward about it. He liked it; a woman who knew what she wanted was a massive turn on. Still, a tiny part of him wondered how much of what happened the alley of the bar was her and how much was the drink.
Now he knew. It was all her and she wanted him, wanted him just as badly as he did her.
Thank god he'd come prepared this time.
He glanced at Emma, it was easy to make out her profile in the passing streetlights. There was something classic and timeless about her, the high cheekbones, the full soft lips still swollen slightly from his kisses, the green eyes that changed color in the light. Her long golden hair fell in loose waves down her back; it was slightly mussed now from his fingers.
What the hell was she doing with him?
"I think you can go now," she said, meeting his eyes.
"Huh?"
"The light. It's green."
"Oh. Right." He threw the Jeep into gear and made the turn that would take them back to her bungalow. Good lord, he felt like a teenage boy getting his first glimpse of naked girl. Which was insane given everything they'd already done. They were adults, what did he have to be nervous about? It was just sex for Christ's sake.
But it wasn't just anything and he knew it. He really liked her. Hell, even just this evening he'd told her things no one else knew. He'd never told the starfish story to anyone, not even Will. Talking about Liam and his mother—even casually—hurt too much; Killian avoided it at all costs. But he found himself not wanting to duck her questions. She'd opened up to him, just a little. She made him smile.
He pulled into a spot next to her rented Lexus in the back of her bungalow. No one would see his Jeep from the main road. He didn't know how long he was staying, but better to be safe than sorry. Killian hopped down, intended to help her, but as at the rise, she beat him to it.
"You're getting good at that," he said, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
"Helps to not be wearing heels. How long have you had this thing?"
"Rebuilt her my first year on the island," he replied, following her to the back door. "Stills runs perfectly."
"I don't even own a car back home. No one really drives in New York."
"I like driving, the ability to just go whenever, wherever I want." It was an acquired taste actually; Killian refused to set foot in a car for months following the accident. Then his mother had gotten sick and he didn't have a choice. He was the only one who could look after her.
"I'm beginning to see that too," Emma said with a grin. She opened the door, slipping inside and holding it for him. He followed her; it was the first time he'd been there since dropping off her bags. The back door opened up into the kitchen, which wasn't quite as pristine as he remembered. Now it looked like someone lived here, little touches of Emma everywhere. "I really like just driving into town, doing my own shopping."
"Like the other day?"
Emma flushed as she shut the door. "Yeah. I still can't believe we ran into each other like that."
"It's a small community," he said with a shrug. "I can't believe you let me kiss you."
Emma walked through the kitchen, beckoning him to follow. She toed off her shoes and leaned back against her couch. "I don't know if you noticed, but I really like kissing you." The soft light of the room darkened her eyes, the green calling out to him.
"I may have noticed," he said, slipping off his own shoes and stepping into her space. He heard her breathing hitch, just a bit. His heart thundered in his ears, just being close to her enough to make him want. "Perhaps you could show me again." Killian reached up, his thumb tracing her bottom lip. Emma inhaled sharply, eyes locked with his. She pursed her lips, pressing a featherlight kiss to the pad of his thumb. She curled her fingers around his, holding his hand to her lips. She kissed each finger, the center of his palm. Killian let his other hand rest on her hip, fingers teasing the hem of her blouse. He itched to hold her, show her how much this was affecting him, but he let her explore.
Killian had to bite back a moan when she sucked his index finger into her mouth; he was already imagining her mouth wrapped around another part of his anatomy. "Emma..."
"What?"
"It's cruel to tease a man, love."
Emma smiled mischievously. "But I'm just getting started. Let me?"
"Whatever you want, as long as I can have you."
"That's the plan." She pulled him in for a kiss, which did nothing to ease the ache in his groin, but did give him a taste of her. She was sweet, soft in all the right places. Her curves molded perfectly to his hands; he couldn't resist pulling her closer. Emma responded in kind, her arms winding behind his neck, fingers tugging lightly on his hair. "Bedroom," she whispered against his lips.
Reluctantly, he let her go, letting her guide him by the hand. As soon as the door was closed, Emma pressed him against it, capturing his lips in a bruising kiss. The light teasing was gone; his fiery princess was back. Her hands roamed over his chest, down to the hem of his t-shirt. "This needs to come off."
Killian pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor; he didn't miss the way her eyes widened at the sight of him. "See something you like, love?"
"How are you real?"
Killian laughed. "Perhaps you should touch and find out."
Emma grinned; her hands already moving. She traced the lines of his muscles, feeling the way they jumped under her touch. Her mouth wasn't idle, kissing along his collar, the hollow of his throat. Killian's head fell back against the door as she touched him, her mouth sucking on his pulse. Her nails scratched at his chest hair, which was surprisingly pleasurable.
"Bloody hell," he breathed.
"You like that?"
Killian nodded, forcing himself to look at her. Her eyes were even darker, pupils blown wide; he was certain his were the same. He ached for her. "Don't stop."
Emma surged up on her toes, kissing him fiercely. "God, I've dreamt about this."
Killian rocked his hips into her, letting her feel what she was doing to him. "So have I. All the time. Want you so bloody much."
Emma kissed down his chest, tongue swirling around his nipples, hands yanking roughing on his shorts. She teased the skin around his navel and he moaned, hips bucking slightly. Emma loosened his pants, shoving them down his hips. He stepped out of them, kicking them aside, Emma on her knees, her face already buried in his crotch. She nuzzled him shamelessly, his boxer briefs the only barrier. "Emma...please."
She kissed the bulge, then reached up to pull the cloth from his body. He sighed in relief as his cock sprang free, laying against his stomach. Boxers gone, Emma licked her lips, squirming as she eyed him. "Holy shit," she breathed. He was too far gone to throw a quip about his size back at her, just needing her to touch. She obliged him, her hand skimming over him, mouth following. She licked him from base to tip and he howled.
Her eyes flitted up to his, concern there. Killian shook his head vigorously, his hand winding through her tresses, guiding her back. She smiled then returned to her task, licking and kissing along his length. It was the most exquisite torture, having her mouth on him. He tried not to squirm, to let her have her way with him, fighting the urge to throw her back on the floor and fuck her senseless.
He looked down at her, watching her as she caressed him. Emma took him in her hand, stroking, her mouth falling open. "Yes," he hissed, her lips wrapping around him, just the way he'd imagined. Emma laved and sucked, hollowing out her cheeks as she moved. Killian's hand tightened in her hair, more for support than guidance. He leaned heavily against the door, completely floored by the woman at his feet.
"Emma, love...you have to stop." He didn't want her to stop, but if she didn't, then this would be another night wasted.
"Why?" she asked with a knowing smile.
"Because you and I both want the same thing."
"We do?"
He fixed her with a heavy glare. "Get up here. Now."
Emma giggled as she rose, the giggle turning into a squeal as he lifted her bodily from the floor. He threw her over his shoulder and crossed the small space between the door and the queen size bed. Emma let out a tiny scream when he deposited her on the bed, crawling in after her, over her. She melted into him as he kissed her deeply, his hands already working on her skirt. He dragged it down her long legs, tossing the material over his shoulder. His calloused hands trailed up her legs, fingering the scrap of black lace that covered her.
"Is it a matching set I wonder?" he asked, hand sliding under her blouse. He was surprised to find she wasn't wearing anything under her blouse, her breasts fitting perfectly into the palm of his hands.
"Happy?"
Killian pushed the fabric over her head, leaving her almost completely bare. "You are bloody gorgeous, Emma." He kissed the swell of her breast, his mouth never leaving her skin. Her stomach muscles trembled in his hands, soft moans falling from her lips. He sought out all the places that made her writhe and squirm and moan, sucking a mark into her hip.
"You like this if memory serves," he growled before wrapping his lips around one of her puckered nipples. Emma mewled, back arching, just as it had that night under the stars. She gripped his hair tightly, pleading for more. He switched his attentions, his free hand sliding over her soaked underwear. "Bloody hell, you are soaked, love."
Emma cried out softly, rocking her hips wantonly into his touch. "Fuck, don't stop. Please."
Killian rubbed her clit through the fabric, his mouth returning to her breast. In moments, she was coming, bucking under him, his name on her lips. He would never get tired of watching her writhe in ecstasy; she was utterly perfect.
Killian slid the black lace down her legs, leaving her nude. Her pale skin was flushed from her orgasm, her chest rising and falling with panting breaths. Her eyes fluttered open, tongue darting out to lick her lips. "Just where do you think you're going?"
Killian swallowed, his control holding on by a thread. "Nowhere."
"Good." Emma sat up and climbed into his lap, pressing a brief kiss to his lips. "Because we're not done."
"And what does the lady wish?" he asked with a smirk.
"I told you. You, inside me."
Killian trailed his hands up her spine. "My pants are over there, love."
Emma sighed, then started nuzzling his neck. "Top drawer in the nightstand."
"Came prepared, did we?"
"I'm not letting you get away again."
Killian fumbled for the drawer while Emma licked at his collar. He finally found what he was looking for, nearly toppling the nightstand in his haste. Emma plucked the foil packet from him, deftly tearing it open. She sat back on his legs, stroking him a couple of times before sliding the condom on. She scooted forward again, but didn't let him have her just yet. She gripped him, pressing the tip of him to her clit, teasing them both.
"God, I need you," Emma muttered, finally rolling her hips up. He held her steady as she sank down on him, slow, so fucking slow. He could feel her stretching to accommodate him, her walls tight and wet. "Oh my god. Oh my god."
Killian wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, his jaw clenching with barely restrained need. "Emma, fuck. So good."
Her hips rose experimentally and they both groaned. "So full," she breathed, rocking gently in his lap. "I knew it."
Killian kissed her brow. "Emma, love, if you don't move...I'm just going to take you."
"Oh yes, please."
Killian growled and moved, having Emma on her back the next moment. He plunged back inside her, reveling in her cry of pleasure. She clawed at his back as he fucked her, hips snapping together roughly, more roughly than he'd intended. But he couldn't seem to help himself, her little cries and mewls fueling his lust. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her clit grinding against his pelvis.
"Oh god, I'm close, Killian," Emma gasped, scratching at the hair at his nape. "Oh yes."
Killian adjusted the angle of his hips, pleased when he heard Emma cry out. He drove into her relentlessly, sweat beading his brow with the effort to hold himself back. He wanted her there first, wanted to feel her come around him. Emma jerked under him, nails digging into his back as she sobbed out her release, her walls rippling and clenching around him. Killian buried his head in her shoulder, his hips stuttering as he followed, grunting something that may have been her name. He could hardly see straight, the euphoria almost too much. He collapsed on top of her, his strength gone for the moment, but Emma didn't seem to mind.
She was even more exhausted than he was.
Eventually, he managed to roll off her, making quick work of the condom, tossing it in the trash. He gathered her in his arms, pillowing her head on his chest. She was still breathing hard, eyes closed. She made no other moves, just huddling close to him, as if she were afraid he would disappear.
"I'm right here, love," he whispered. "Right here."
They lay there quietly, Killian gently stroking her back until she fell asleep. Killian dozed himself, spent and overwhelmed by what they had done. If he'd ever entertained the idea that he could have her and get her out of his system, then he'd been an idiot. Being with Emma was so much more.
It was with a heavy heart that he left her in the wee hours of the morning. She was still asleep, blonde stretched out behind her. Killian dressed silently, then found a small pad of paper in the drawer of the nightstand. He scribbled a note, letting her know where he'd gone. He was folding it in half when she stirred.
"What time is it?" Her voice was slurred adorably from sleep.
"Half past four, love," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."
"Are you leaving?"
"I've got an early shift at the garage," he explained. "I'm sorry."
She smiled sleepily. "It's okay. Will I see you later?"
He smiled; it warmed his heart that she wanted to see him again. "I hope so." He leaned down and brushed a chaste kiss to her lips. "Sleep now, lass."
"Don't work too hard, okay?"
"I'll try. Good night, Emma."
"Bye, Killian." Just before he left, he saw her grab the pillow he'd been using, swapping it for hers.
Later, he got a text from her; it was a picture of her breakfast along with the tag, miss you. He smiled, staring at the words. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear he was already half in love with her.
Oh shit.