Author's note: Damn, these chapters just keep getting longer! I have not idea where all these words are coming from, but it's a fun story to write. So this chapter took a turn I wasn't completely expecting, but since the characters run the muse, here we are. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Yeah, that's funny.
Chapter 6
Killian snapped his laptop shut, wondering what else could go wrong this week.
First, his date with Emma—the one he'd been looking forward to for nearly two weeks—got rained out. After the storm, he brought them back early, the Jolly's sail ripped in the winds, along with other minor shit that was going to need repaired. He had no idea where he was getting the money for that. Then, Emma insisted he go to the emergency room to get checked out, even though it was simply a bump on the head. Although, after what he'd told her about Liam's accident, he couldn't truly blame her for being worried. Honestly, it was really sweet.
But it was another thing he was going to have to pay for since all he had was the shitty university insurance. He didn't tell Emma any of this though, because it was his problem. He'd find a way to deal with it himself. He had a little of the settlement from Liam's accident left—he'd used most of it to buy the Jolly in the first place—so perhaps he wasn't entirely screwed.
Finally, his adviser wanted an update on his thesis. Killian had been neglecting it—revealing his past to Emma, fighting with Will, and the storm had all taken up most of his precious time—and now he needed to have a draft of at least two chapters before his mid summer meeting with Dr. Teach in a week and a half. For that, he'd need a couple days off to go down to Honolulu.
He was just going to have to explain things to Emma. Killian was sure she would understand, even if she was disappointed. He'd make it up to her. Maybe she could come with him to the city. Once he was finished with his professor, he'd have some free time. Maybe they could have that fancy date they talked about. Emma in a stunning gown, that was definitely something to look forward to.
But first, he wanted to go check on the Jolly. He needed to evaluate the damage and see what needed to be fixed immediately and what could wait. If he could spread things out, then it would be easier on his wallet.
He was already working as many hours as Robin would allow him.
Killian snatched up his keys and headed down to his Jeep. As he climbed in his phone rang. It was Emma, which instantly brought a smile to his face. "Hello, love."
"Hey. Is this a bad time?"
"I was just heading down to the marina. Do you need me?" It was scary just how quickly he would drop everything if she needed him.
Emma chuckled. "Actually, that's what I was calling about. I was going to ask you to meet me there."
"Really?"
"Yeah. See you in a half hour?"
"Should I swing by and get you?"
"No, I've got something to do first. I'll be there soon though."
Killian's brow crinkled with curiosity. What was she up to? Surprises were usually his forte. "Okay. See you later."
He hadn't seen much of her since their date. Granted, he'd been busy, but she seemed...distant somehow? Like she was deep in thought. They still spoke every day, but she'd only come by for dinner once that week. Even then, she wasn't her usual self. And he caught her looking at him oddly when she thought he wasn't looking. He missed her. It was taking him longer to fall asleep these days; he'd become accustomed to having her in his bed, secure in his arms.
Killian shook his head and backed into the street. He took his shortcut to the docks, parking in his usual spot. He waved to a few people as he headed for the Jolly's slip, his mind still on Emma. Something was going on, he could feel it.
He was so distracted, he almost walked right past his boat. Not that anyone could blame him because for a moment, he wasn't sure it was his boat. Killian knew the Jolly like the back of his hand, but this wasn't the Jolly. At least not as he'd left her a few days ago. She gleamed in the sun, the metal and fiberglass bright and polished. There was fresh paint. Gingerly, Killian climbed aboard, taking off his sunglasses for a closer look. The spot where he'd slipped was cleaned of blood, the railing completely replaced. He looked up, sure enough the ripped and tattered sail was gone, a clean white one in its place. Every loose fitting, every rope, all brand new. He ducked below; the cabin was swept clean, things stowed away, the bed made. At least his blankets and cushions were still there.
It hardly seemed like his boat any more; everything as bright and new as day he'd bought her.
There was only one person Killian knew with the money to do something like this, especially at such short notice.
Emma.
Almost as if on cue, he heard her footsteps on the deck above. She descended the ladder, a bottle of champagne in her hand. She looked cute in a black and white striped crop top and black pleated shorts, which exposed her midriff enticingly. It was a testament to his swirling emotions that his first instinct wasn't to strip her naked and have his way with her.
"Oh. You're here already," she said, smiling sheepishly.
Killian took a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair. "Aye. This is...something, lass."
"I was going to surprise you, but I guess that's not gonna happen." Still she smiled. "Do you like it?"
Killian looked around the room, at the place that was his but no longer felt like his. "Honestly?"
Emma frowned. "Well, yeah."
"I don't know." He should be relieved that he didn't have the burden of fixing the Jolly, but for some reason, he wasn't. The Jolly was his; the one thing he'd allowed himself after Liam's death. He thought he was honoring his brother's wish; it allowed him to do the work he loved, out on the ocean. It was in an odd way the last connection he had to Liam and now it felt like that was severed.
Emma toyed with the champagne bottle nervously. "Is there something you don't like? Because I can call Marco and we can fix whatever it is."
He didn't know who this Marco person was, but he didn't want him anywhere near his boat again. "No, no. It's not that."
"Then what? Because I'm confused."
Killian glanced at her, then started to pace. He was being irrational; he knew that. But he couldn't make it stop. "Lass, it's...too much. I didn't ask you to do this."
"Well, I know that. But I wanted to. Can't I give my boyfriend a gift?"
"A gift?" Killian laughed hollowly. "Lass, this isn't a gift. Do you know how much this cost?" He looked at her, blonde curls, fashionable clothes. He struck him again just how far out of his league she was. "No, of course you don't. Did you even ask?"
"Why does it matter? I wanted to do something nice for you!" She was getting angry now, thrown by his reaction.
"Nice is bringing me pizza! Not completely refurbishing my bloody boat! Is this the Jolly or did you just junk her and buy me a new one?"
"I would never do that! I know what this means to you!" She slammed the bottle on the table, hard, her face flushed with anger. If he wasn't so angry himself, he'd think it was fetching.
"Do you? Do you really?" Killian picked up one of the pillows from the bed; it had his name embroidered across the front. His mother had made it before she passed. "You've never had to work, Emma! Never wondered where your next meal was coming from! Never lost the person closest to you in the world and spent your every waking minute trying to fulfill a promise! This bloody boat is all I have left of him!"
"And I what? Ruined it? Tell me what you really think, Killian." There were tears stinging her eyes, as much as she tried to hide it.
He threw the pillow down. "You can't just throw money at every problem, Emma! It doesn't fix anything!"
"What would you have me do? Watch you struggle, work until you can barely stand up? I thought we were a team, Killian! But apparently I'm nothing more than a spoiled rich girl to you!"
He glared. "Perhaps Will was right. Maybe we are too different."
Emma smacked him across the face. Hard. "If you're gonna take advice from that guy, then you deserve to be unhappy and alone. Fuck you." With that, she turned and climbed the ladder, gone before Killian could stop her.
As he held his stinging cheek, Killian realized what a colossal mistake he'd made. His anger melted away as he thought about the awful things he'd said. He looked around, feeling more wretched by the second. Sticking out under one of the pillows was a card. Killian picked it up, his hand trembling. He ripped it open and read with a sinking heart.
Killian,
There's something I've been thinking about these last few days, something I want to tell you. But since I suck at words, I thought I'd show you instead.
I hope this refurbishment of the Jolly is up to scratch; I stayed here every minute, watching them work. I wanted it to be perfect, since I know what she means to you. Elsa thinks I'm crazy, but I feel like I've become a real person since I met you. You've shown me so much; I can't thank you enough. I took the liberty of adding a swan pillow to the pile, so you'd be reminded of me, even when we're apart. I hope you don't mind.
I can't wait to see your face. I hope you like it.
Love, Emma
Killian looked over at the pile of pillows and cushions; sure enough, in the back lay the swan. He picked it up gently, lifting it to his nose and inhaling. It smelled faintly of her. Christ, he was the biggest ass in the entire world. Here she was, trying to do something nice for him, to show him that she cared, and he shat all over it like a petulant child.
He let his pride color his judgment, completely and utterly fucking up.
Killian looked down at the card again. Love, Emma. Could that mean what he thought it meant? Did she love him? If she did, surely he'd killed that.
"You really are the worst, Jones," he said out loud. He suspected it was fruitless, but he pulled out his phone, dialing her number. It rang and rang and rang. When it switched to voice mail, he left her message, but he didn't expect her to get it. She'd probably delete it without listening to it. It was no better than he deserved.
Feeling worse than he had in years, Killian chucked aside his phone and reached for the abandoned champagne bottle. He popped the cork, chugging it straight from the bottle, almost choking. Not that he cared. Right now, all he wanted to do was get good and drunk.
Emma slammed the car door shut, blinking her eyes rapidly. She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't. She wouldn't let Killian get to her. She heard her phone ringing, but she ignored it, shutting it off for good measure. She didn't want to talk to anyone.
Blindly, she started the car and drove back to her bungalow. She clutched the steering wheel tightly, biting her lip. A song came on the radio, one that reminded her of Killian. She shut it off with a vicious push of the button, taking out her anger on the innocent radio.
She had to stay angry. It was the only thing that was holding her together.
When she got home, she changed her clothes, intending to go out for a run. That always cleared her head. She got a mile down the trail when she saw a happy couple strolling along, not a care in the world. Emma tried to ignore it, ignore them, but all she could see was she and Killian down at the beach. On that swing. Swimming. Sailing on his boat. Why did she feel like this?
Why did she have to go and fall in love with him?
A summer fling. That's all this was supposed to be. No strings, no feelings. Just someone to pass the time with, someone who seemed to like her. He made her feel good.
Emma's feet pounded the pavement, picking up her pace, sweat running down her body. It was really the wrong time of day for running, but she didn't know what else to do with herself.
She wouldn't think about Killian's gorgeous blue eyes or the way his dimples flashed when he was happy. Or the way he held her. The way her lips tingled when he kissed her. The way he listened to her and built her up. The way he would hold her when they were in bed together.
She started to slow, her lip trembling. How could he say those things? Did he really think she was a spoiled brat? Did he really think she fixed the Jolly to make him beholden to her? She knew it was a big project, but she also knew there was no way he could have done it by himself. It didn't seem like a big deal at the time.
She just wanted to make him happy.
Emma's pace crumbled completely, as a sob wracked her body. She collapsed onto a stump on the side of the trail, her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook as she cried; it felt like she'd been punched. Like someone had ripped a hole in her chest, leaving her bleeding.
She wasn't sure how long she stayed there; it was long after her tears were spent. Slowly, she got up and walked back to her bungalow. She no longer had the energy to run. She didn't know what she should do. Should she stay? Should she go home? If she went home, could she continue her project? God, she'd been looking forward to showing her proposal to Killian, to see what he thought. He'd have been so excited.
At least she thought he would. Now she wasn't so sure.
God, this whole trip was a mistake. Who had she been kidding anyway?
No, she wasn't going to let her personal life get in the way of this. Emma wasn't a quitter. She would see this thing through to the end, win or lose.
She got home, deciding to shower. Surely, that would make her feel better. At the very least, it would get the sweat and grime off her skin. After, she reached for Killian's UH shirt without thinking, but she tossed it aside. She couldn't look at anything that reminded her of him right now. Instead, she pulled on her NYU t-shirt and an old pair of boxers, none of which had bad associations.
Emma had just fired up her laptop when there was a knock on her door. Frowning, she went to answer it. Please don't be Killian. She wasn't sure she could face him right now. She needed some time to sort through things.
"Elsa?"
Elsa whipped off her sunglasses, smiling broadly. "Surprise!" Her smile dropped almost instantly, her ice blue eyes worried. "Emma? What's wrong?"
Emma stepped back, allowing her friend inside. "Nothing," she lied.
Elsa tutted. "Don't you be evasive with me, Emma Nolan." She wheeled her bag into the room, then crossed her arms. "Something's wrong. I can see it in your eyes. I didn't even expect you to be here."
"Why are you here, Elsa?" Emma headed for the couch, still trying to evade her friend's questions. She couldn't be sure she wouldn't break down again and she was stronger than that, damn it.
Elsa sat next to her, still looking concerned. "You called me freaked out on Sunday, remember? Something about Killian getting knocked out on his boat?"
Emma chewed on her lip. Honestly, she'd forgotten. She was so into making arrangements to fix the Jolly that she'd forgotten the late night call to her friend from the emergency room. "He's...he's fine. You didn't have to come."
Elsa raised a credulous brow. "Really? Because from where I'm sitting it looks like I did. What happened? Is it Killian?"
Emma sighed, knowing Elsa wouldn't give up until she spilled. She was annoying that way. "We had a fight."
"Oh Emma. I'm so sorry." Wordlessly, Elsa gathered Emma in her arms and hugged her tight. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Emma sniffed, but that was all. "Not right now."
"Do you want to eat ice cream and watch cheesy 80s movies?"
And that was why Elsa was her friend. She didn't push her to share before she was ready. And she knew exactly how to make Emma feel better. "Sure. I'll get the Rocky Road, you find something on the pay per view."
She was halfway to the fridge before she realized that Rocky Road was what Killian had bought her on their first date. Thankfully, she had some double chocolate fudge instead.
They spent the rest of the afternoon and evening like that. They watched Footloose, Top Gun, The Breakfast Club, every Indian Jones movie except the dumb one. Light on the romance, more comedy and action, which Emma appreciated. When the ice cream ran out, Emma made them lasagna for dinner. She was getting quite decent at cooking now; Elsa declared it a success. But Emma could see her friend fading, the jetlag getting to her.
"Why don't you sleep, Elsa? I'll be fine, I swear."
Elsa yawned. "Not until you tell me what happened. I can tell you all my stories tomorrow."
"You have stories?"
"How do you think I got here?"
"Kristoff?" Emma guessed.
Elsa laughed tiredly. "He's really quite resourceful. Anna's lucky." There was a wistfulness in her voice again. Despite her own romantic troubles, Emma wished there was something she could do for her.
Emma sipped at her hot chocolate. She loved it, but had no reason to indulge since coming to the island. Not when it was warm every day. But the familiar scent comforted her. "I wanted to surprise him," she began. "We went out on his boat last weekend and it was..." She looked up at Elsa. "It was good, we were good. But there was a storm and Killian hit his head."
"Hence the emergency room?"
Emma nodded. "I mean, he's fine. But I had to be sure." She didn't get into Liam's accident, as that wasn't her story to tell. But she just wanted to make sure he was okay. It hadn't seemed like a big deal at the time, but looking back at it, she hadn't really considered the consequences. God, did he even have insurance? Emma never thought about things like that.
"Is that why you had a fight?"
Emma shook her head. "No, that was later. Anyway, his boat...Elsa, he named it the Jolly Roger."
Elsa chuckled. "Really? That's...kind of adorable actually."
"He really loves Peter Pan. Like the original story. He loaned me his copy!" Emma put down her mug and ran to get it. It was on her nightstand. "See?"
Elsa turned the book over in her hand; it was dog eared in several places, the cover worn. "It reminds me of my copy of Pride and Prejudice."
Emma smiled in spite of herself. "We really need to get you two in the same room." If she ever saw him again, that is. She didn't know this is was just a fight, or if they really had something irreconcilable. As she got some space, she couldn't help but hope for the former.
"I take it you didn't fight about a book."
Emma sighed. "No. I, uh, may have refurbished his boat without asking him."
"Why would he be upset about that?"
"That's what I said!" Then she frowned. "I think...he's used to taking care of himself. His mother's dead. His dad's who knows where. Killian's hasn't seen him since he was a kid. And his brother...they were close. Like really close. But he died, several years ago."
"So he's all alone?" Elsa's eyes shone with sympathy; like Emma, she had a family that loved her, even if they didn't quite understand her.
"Yeah."
"You said he put himself through school too." Elsa looked thoughtful. "Do you think...you might have hurt his feelings without meaning to?"
"I don't know. Maybe. I swear, I only wanted to do something nice! He means a lot to me."
"Emma, you're not a grand gesture person. That's...a pretty big gesture."
Emma groaned. "I know. But I was hoping I wouldn't have to say it."
"Say what?" Then Elsa's eyes lit up with understanding. "Oh. Oh. I knew you cared about him, but Emma...are you sure?"
"That I fell for the guy I spilled coffee on?" Emma laughed dryly. "It seems so. Explains why I feel like shit right now."
"Do you think he loves you?" Elsa asked gently.
Emma bit her lips. "Will said he did, but now...I don't know. He was pretty angry."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know."
"Well, until you do, you can show me around this place. I've been kinda jealous of you in this beautiful place all by yourself."
"You're late," Robin called, as Killian pulled into his friend's driveway. "Again."
"At least he showed up this time," Will interjected, lifting Roland up and spinning him around to peals of laughter.
"Sod off, both of you." Killian slammed his door shut, ignoring the pounding in his head. He woke up hungover every morning since Wednesday, drinking his disgusting concoction and going to work. More like a zombie than a man. He just couldn't bring himself to do anything, running his last conversation with Emma over and over in his head. He called her every day, hoping she would relent and let him explain. Apologize. Grovel. Whatever it took. He didn't care.
"What crawled up yer pompous arse and died?" Will asked.
"Will," Robin admonished. "Language. And lay off. He and Emma had a fight."
"That was like three days ago. Haven't they kissed and made up yet?"
Killian glared at his friend. "Can't do that if she won't answer my calls. Hell, she's probably gone by now."
"She's not," Robin informed him, ushering Roland inside. "I checked the register yesterday."
"You broke the rules, Locksley?" Will exclaimed. "I'm impressed."
"Yeah, well, some of us actually try and be there for our friends." Robin ushered them inside; England was having another friendly. It wasn't what Killian wanted to be doing, but it was better than hanging around his apartment, trying to work on his thesis when he was three sheets to the wind.
Robin passed around some beers then glanced at Roland. "Let me put him down, then I'll turn on the match."
The beer was bitter going down; Killian had been drinking a lot of rum of late. None of it actually made him feel better, but it numbed the pain a little. But Emma was still on the island. She hadn't left. So that must mean he had a chance, right? A chance to make it right.
"I know what yer thinkin', mate," Will said seriously. "Don't go there."
Killian glared. "You've made your opinion on Emma very clear, mate," he spat. "I'm not in the mood." He still couldn't believe he'd thrown Will's taunt back in Emma's face. That was the thing he couldn't forgive himself for. Killian didn't care about any of that, their backgrounds, her money. He just wanted her. Damn his pride.
Liam would be ashamed of the way he acted. Killian was ashamed. But how to get her to talk to him?
Robin came back, joining Killian on the couch and switching on the match. "Don't let Will get you down, Killian. This will blow over, you'll see."
"How do you know?"
Robin gave him a rueful smile. "Because that's what you do when you love each other. Marian...she would get so angry at me. For silly things. And we'd fight. Scream, yell. She even threw a plate at me once." Robin pointed at the scar on his elbow. "That's what it's about though. Working through all those silly things because you just can't bear the idea of not waking up next to the person you love."
"I don't even know why I was angry," Killian admitted. "I mean, I know why but it was so idiotic. Instead of grateful I was an asshole and she didn't deserve it." Especially since she still didn't know how they truly met.
"Liam's still a sore spot for you," Robin pointed out. "Look at how quickly you got angry at me."
Killian put his head in his hands, not bothering to watch the match. "Christ, I'm such an arse. I don't deserve her."
"Let her be the judge of that. She sounds like a smart girl. You won't know until you try."
"She won't answer my calls."
"Then maybe you should get your sorry arse over there. And be prepared to grovel. A lot." Robin looked Killian up and down. "But perhaps you better sober up first. And shower. You smell like a brewery."
"Thanks a lot, mate."
"I'm here to help."
He knew Robin was right. He was the one who monumentally fucked up, only he could make it right. Or at least try to. He wouldn't blame Emma in the least if she slammed the door in his face. After he sobered up, he went home and took a long cleansing shower. He let the scalding hot water wash away all the grime and odor he'd acquired over the last few days, feeling better physically when he got out. His emotions were another story, still mentally flagellating himself for his temper.
Liam had always said his hot head would get him in trouble.
Killian managed to find some clean clothes, dressing quickly. It was getting late; he hoped she wasn't in bed yet. There was no traffic on the way to her place, but Killian drummed on the steering wheel anyway, his nerves getting to him. Emma meant so much to him; he didn't know what he'd do if she didn't give him another chance.
It took all of his courage to march up to her door—the front door and not that back one he normally used—and knock.
The person who opened the door wasn't Emma.
"May I help you?" The woman was about Emma's age with white blonde hair and ice blue eyes.
Killian scratched behind his ear. "Um, is Emma Nolan still staying here?" Surely, Robin wasn't jerking him around.
The blonde nodded, then her eyes widened. "Oh. You must be Killian."
"Aye, I am. And you are...?"
"Oh sorry. I'm Elsa Arendelle."
So this was the famous Elsa. She was pretty in a haughty kind of way. But she seemed gentle and kind. "Is she here?" He hoped he didn't sound desperate, but he kind of was.
Elsa gave him a sympathetic smile. "She is. But...just stay here, okay? It's been a rough couple of days..." Elsa looked him over. "Which seems to be going around."
The idea of her hurting because of him lacerated his heart. But he heeded Elsa's warning. "Aye." All he could do was wait.
He didn't have to wait long, but it was Emma and not Elsa who appeared at the door. Her blonde hair was straight and flat, without her usual curls or waves. She was dressed simply in an off the shoulder baggy shirt and shorts with no make up. He could see the circles under her green yes. They were a little dull yet wary. "Hi."
"Hello, lass."
"Elsa said you wanted to talk?"
It wasn't precisely what he'd said, but bless Elsa for giving him a crumb to build on. "Aye. I came to explain and...apologize. If you'll let me."
Her fingers tightened on the door, but she nodded. "Okay." She stepped back so he could enter and he stood in the small foyer nervously, wondering what to do next. Everything with Emma had been so easy up until now; he had no idea how to proceed.
Elsa stood on the edge of the living room, watching them warily. "It's okay, Elsa," Emma said. "I got this."
"I'll leave you two alone. I'll go...take a walk."
When the door closed behind her, the silence was deafening. Killian knew he was going to have to break it. "She seems nice," he said, somewhat lamely.
Emma sat on the couch, nodding for Killian to do the same. He left a space between them; it felt bigger than the bleeding Grand Canyon. "She arrived right after we..." Emma gestured inarticulately, not wanting to actually sat the word "fought."
"I tried to call you," Killian said. "Over and over. Almost as soon as you left, I knew I messed up."
"I turned my phone off," Emma explained. "I wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone."
"Understandable." He fumbled with his hands, not knowing what to do with them. He was so used to touching her, but he knew that he couldn't. Not right now. He had to say what he came to say. "I am so, so sorry, Emma. I had no right to get angry at you. I was...too proud to be grateful, or to just accept your amazing gift in the spirit it was given. And...I'm prepared to do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, even though I don't deserve it."
Emma inhaled slowly, taking in his words. "I never meant to imply...anything, Killian," she said finally.
"Emma, you did nothing wrong. I'm the asshole here. I messed up. And I hate myself for it." He rubbed his face with his hand, sighing heavily. "I bought the Jolly with the money from Liam's accident settlement. So in an odd way, I think of her as his rather than mine. I spent all week trying to figure out how I was going to fix her and I got there and she was...better than new. I overreacted. And there's no excuse for it. All I can say is that I'm sorry."
Emma reached out, covering his hand with hers. It was like balm on his soul. "I didn't know. If I had, I would have asked you first."
"I know." He placed his other hand over hers. "I know we can't just...go back to how things were, but...do you think we could start over?"
She held his eyes for a long time, as if gauging his sincerity. Finally, her hand tightened in his and she nodded. "Would you kiss me?" she asked, her thumb rubbing his knuckles.
Killian sighed in relief and surged forward, capturing her lips with his. Emma responded instantly, opening for him, deepening the kiss. Killian cradled her cheek with his free hand, fingers threading into her hair. Her lips were warm and soft, tongue stroking his. It hit him full force just how much he missed her, how much he loved her. He wanted to tell her—desperately—but he didn't want it to be because they'd fought. When he told her, he didn't want any clouds hanging over their heads.
"I missed you," Emma whispered against his lips. She was in his lap now, fingers massaging his scalp tenderly. "So much."
Killian hugged her close, feeling awful again. "I'm sorry, love. I was such a bloody prat to you." He raised her head. "It seems too late now, but...thank you for what you did. The Jolly's never looked better."
"You're welcome." She kissed him again, sweetly, far more forgiving than he deserved. "Actually, I've been thinking and there's something I should tell you too. I know it's late though."
"I can stay. To talk." Having her this close to him was doing terrible things to him, but he wanted to do this right this time. If she wanted to talk, then they would talk. He was just happy she was willing to forgive him.
Emma looked relieved, leaning into press another kiss to his lips. He was about to respond when the back door opened. They sprang apart, Emma settling in beside him, her cheeks flushed. Elsa nodded politely and told them she was going to bed.
"I guess we should talk, huh?" Emma said, still blushing.
Killian ran his hand through his hair. "Aye, we should." If he truly wanted a fresh start, then he was going to have to tell her everything. Everything. And let the chips, as they say, fall where they may. "But ladies first."
Emma sighed, looking nervous. "I haven't talked about this...in a long time. I've tried so hard to put it...put him...behind me." She laughed hollowly. "Easier said than done when you all have the same friends."
"Is this the mysterious ex?"
"Yeah. Neal. He wasn't my first or anything like that." She couldn't meet his eyes. "But he was the first real relationship I ever had. At least I thought it was real." She clenched her fist, her face growing dark. "We all grew up together, ran in the same privileged," she spat the work like a curse, "circles. I thought I knew him and he said he liked me."
Emma looked at him finally, scowling. "I don't even remember our first time. I was drunk. I didn't think anything of it though." Killian's jaw twitched, appalled by what he was hearing. Not at Emma. But at Neal. What kind of man takes advantage like that? But he let her finish. "All the warning signs were there. He isolated me from my friends. Ordered my food when we went out. Probably some things I didn't even notice. It was so hard for me to see what he was doing because..."
"Because you loved him."
"I thought I did. There wasn't an particular moment; I sort of realized step by step that I was living his life and not mine. He laughed in my face when I told him that I wanted to work. He thought I was crazy."
"You were a trophy and he wanted you to stay that way."
Emma smirked ruefully. "Yeah. When I tried to end it, he wouldn't listen. Wouldn't leave me alone. Calling and calling, waiting downstairs when I left the penthouse. My mother finally convinced me to threaten him with a restraining order."
"I'm so sorry, love."
"I haven't said more than ten words to him in two years. We see each other at charity events, sometimes around town, but even that is more than I'd like."
Hearing her story made him even more determined to tell her the truth. He didn't want there to be anymore secrets and hidden agendas. He was better than that. Certainty better than this Neal bloke, even if he was only a mechanic. He reached over and took her hand. "You are an extraordinary woman, Emma. Don't let anyone tell you differently."
She smiled at him softly. "You sound like Elsa."
"In our very brief acquaintance, I can tell she and I will be great friends. We have you in common." He grinned cheekily at her, hoping to make her smile. He'd missed her smile.
Emma rolled her eyes, but graced him with that brilliant smile. "Smooth talker. Did you have something else to tell me?"
Killian glanced away, steeling himself. He'd only just gotten her back; he hoped he wasn't ruining it. But she deserved the truth. "Um, do you remember the day you came to the island?"
Emma frowned. "Yeah, why?"
"The day you spilled coffee on me wasn't the first time we met."
"It wasn't? What do you mean?" Her eyes were wary now, wondering where he was going with this.
Killian folded his hands in his lap. "Will was hungover. He asked me to fill in for him. He's a bellboy here. At the resort."
It took her a minute to figure out what he was saying. She narrowed her eyes at him, then they widened in recognition. "The apple? That was you?"
Killian winced. "Aye."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"At first, I didn't think it mattered. I didn't...well, I didn't expect to like you so much, love. I knew I should stay away, but I couldn't. I've never met anyone quite like you, Emma."
"Why would you need to stay away?"
"Because I work here, Swan. I'm a mechanic at this resort and it's against company policy to fraternize, shall we say, with the guests."
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose, her eyes falling closed. "So let me get this straight. The guy who dropped off my bags, who put grease on them, was you. You pretending to be Will. And you didn't tell me because dating me could cost you your job?"
"In a nutshell, yes."
Emma got up abruptly and stalked to the kitchen. Killian didn't try and stop her, knew it was a lot to take in. He just might have blown his shot; it was impossible to tell. He heard a glass thunk on the counter, the splash of alcohol. He waited on pins and needles, wondering what she would do. Would she throw him out? He couldn't really blame her if she did.
Emma came back, thrusting a glass into his hand. He raised a brow and knocked it back, the burn harsh down his throat. As soon as he swallowed, Emma punched him in the shoulder. Hard. He gasped and grunted, shoulder throbbing.
"That was for thinking I would care that you were just a mechanic," she said, sitting down next to him. "And for not telling me sooner."
"My apologies?" His voice was thin, reedy, eyes watering. Damn, she could hit. But if that was the worst that happened to him, he would take it. Gladly.
"Anything else I need to know?"
"Like my secret love child in Reading?"
Her eyes went wide, then she scowled. "I'm being serious, Killian."
"I know, I know. A poor attempt at humor. I'm sorry. Again."
"Why would you risk so much?"
It hurt, but he reached up and cupped her face. "I should think that was obvious, my love." It was closest he'd come to saying those words. He still wasn't sure she was ready to hear them. But he meant them. He'd risk all this for her and more. It took almost losing her to make his realize that he couldn't. Not ever. Unless she ordered him away. He was in this. For the long haul.
Emma ran his fingers lightly over his face, tracing every ridge and bump. "Who are you?"
"Possibly crazy?" he teased.
She laughed. God, it was good to hear her laugh. "You said it, not me."
"That just makes me self aware, darling."
"Are we gonna be okay?"
"If you can forgive my many transgressions and faults, Emma." He was well aware that he was the reason they'd come to this. She'd done nothing wrong.
"I'm glad you told me. I'm still a little angry at you though."
"You have every right to be. But I want to be with you. If you still want me."
Emma pulled him in for a kiss, her lips sweet and firm on his. It was heaven. "You'll just have to find a way to make it up to me."
Ignoring his still throbbing shoulder, he pulled her into his lap. "I'd start right now, but I don't think your friend would take kindly to being woken up."
Emma giggled, settling back into his arms as if she'd never left. "Probably not. Will you stay though?"
"Aye, but I'll have to leave early. I have an early shift, then...oh bollocks, I really need to get some work done on my bloody thesis. I'm supposed to meet with my adviser next week. He wants an update."
"Down in Honolulu?"
"Aye." Killian kissed the top of her head. "Would you like to come with me? Perhaps we could have that dinner date. Have a first date all over again."
"Only if you let me make the arrangements."
He laughed. "Done." He toyed with her fingers, threading them with his. He could feel the ache easing in his chest, hope that they would be alright settling there. "I don't care about the money, Emma. I never did. If I ever gave you that impression, I'm sorry."
Emma laid her head on his chest. "That's one of the reasons I lo-like you so much. Because you see me. You always saw me."
"That apple did give me a bit of pause though."
"I was jetlagged. People don't care cash in New York, funny guy." She looked up at him, her fingers brushing his chin. "I still can't believe I didn't recognize you."
"The beard makes me look even more devilishly handsome, love. It's an easy mistake to make."
"I do remember thinking you had a nice ass though."
He smirked. "Did you now? Do tell."
"I also thought you looked about eighteen."
He pretended to look offended. "You wound me, Swan."
"For the record, I prefer the scruff."
"Duly noted." They talked until Emma fell asleep in his arms. Quietly, he shut off the light and carried her to bed, ditching his own shoes and crawling in with her. She wrapped herself around him automatically, drawn to his warmth. He stayed up for a long time after that, just listening to her breathe.
He wouldn't screw up again. He'd make sure of it.
"What do you think about these?" Emma adjusted the screen so Elsa could see what she was holding.
Elsa scrutinized the earrings through the Skype connection. "Are you sure you want something so...I don't know, dangly?"
"What's wrong with dangly?"
Killian had dropped her off hours ago; she wouldn't see him again until their date. It had been a relatively quiet drive—for them anyway—it seemed they were both still feeling out this "fresh start" as Killian had dubbed it.
The ensuing week after their fight had been a series of awkward moments, brief text exchanges, late night phone calls. In some ways, it felt like they were learning each other all over again. And in a way, they were. Since Killian was busy working and putting together his presentation for his professor, they only really got to see each other when Emma managed to convince him to go out to lunch with she and Elsa. Elsa gave him the third degree—well, as much as someone as sweet and non-confrontational as her can—and pronounced herself satisfied. Emma had actually gotten a bit of a kick out of it, watching him squirm under her best friend's glare.
Elsa's seal of approval only confirmed what Emma knew. That her decision to forgive him was the right one. When he showed up that night, she'd been so relieved to see him, even though she hid it at first. Similar scenarios had played out with Neal, and she'd learned her lesson the hard way. But not once did Killian try to blame her and spin her words around until she didn't know which way was up. He came—Christ, he looked terrible, even though she could smell the fresh soap on him—and basically threw himself at her feet.
The revelation of their true meeting had thrown her; she honestly hadn't known whether to be angry or amused or what. Once she understood the gravity of what he was risking though, she couldn't stay mad at him. She had to let him stew about it for a few minutes, throw in a little punch for his stupidity, but she cared too much about him to just let what they had die.
Now they were here, trying to get back to some kind of normalcy. Killian had said they couldn't go back and he was right. Before they were fooling themselves into believing that all they had was a little fun and sex. Now things were serious. She was in love with him. She still hadn't said it. Neither had he, but she knew. She could see it in the dejected look in his blue eyes when he showed up at her door.
Their fight had eaten him up as much—if not more—than it had her.
This date was supposed to be the beginning. She wanted to get that easy way they had about them back. She wanted to hear all the stories she'd missed because of his secret. She wanted to hold hands and flirt shamelessly and kiss until they couldn't breathe. She wanted him, wanted to worship his body, and allow him to do the same, to feel those rough hands on her skin. Their connection had brought her to life and she missed it.
Killian had given her free reign to their date and she planned to impress. She booked them a suite at the Halekulani right on the beach. With Killian working, Emma had used her free time to go dress shopping with Elsa, picking out a beautiful flirty dress, perfect for a swanky, sexy date. She took Killian's suit—he only had one—and had it dry cleaned and pressed, buying him a new tie (that went well with her dress). They'd made a deal, so he wasn't allowed to make a peep about how much money she was spending. She had more than she knew what to do with anyway.
Dinner and dancing at Tony's Italian restaurant—Elsa had giggled like mad, declaring it very Lady and the Tramp—hopefully followed by a night wrapped up together until they were exhausted.
Judging by the way Killian had eyed her on the drive down to the city, he missed her too.
They had until Monday afternoon, when Killian had to be back at work. Emma planned to make the most of it. Perhaps, she'd let Killian show her how to surf. You know, just for fun.
"Well," Elsa was saying, "you did say that Killian was very...affectionate?" Elsa was already blushing. "Dangly earrings might impede him."
"Elsa!" Emma hadn't gone into any huge detail about her sex life, but Elsa had seen them together. At lunch, Killian had kept his hand on her leg almost the entire time, stealing kisses right there in front of of Elsa.
"Don't get me wrong, Killian's sweet," Elsa said, grinning. "But he's really...really into you, Emma. Don't bother denying it. I have eyes. You two are like a more sexually charged version of Anna and Kristoff."
Emma cringed. "I hope that's a compliment? Sort of?"
Elsa's laugh sounded far away over the connection. "Seriously, Emma. I know I got here at a bad time, but you two are really great together. He clearly adores you. I know you can't see it, but when you're not looking, he just stares like you hung the moon or something."
Emma flushed. "He does not."
"Yeah. He does. Just accept it, missy."
"Ugh, fine. Are you gonna help me or what?" Secretly, she was pleased, but did the tried and true and hid it with sarcasm.
Elsa smiled. "Show me the other pair again and we'll see what we can do."
Emma said goodbye an hour later, deciding to shower, then head down to the salon to get her hair done. She decided on a high ponytail with a twist, giving her golden hair some nice bounce to it. She got her make up done too, even though she was starting to fidget; she hated sitting there for hours on end in New York, getting ready for some function or other. But this was a romantic date with her boyfriend; she really wanted to knock his socks off.
Emma was slipping on her heels when her phone rang. "Hey you."
"Tell me again, love, why I have to get ready for our date in the bloody hotel bathroom?"
"Because I want us to actually leave the hotel, Killian."
"Are you implying that I can't control myself, Swan?"
They hadn't been together since that day on his boat. That was exactly what she was implying. "Your words, sailor."
Killian laughed. "I'm sure the wait will be worth it," he said, pitching his voice low. On purpose, the bastard. Emma shivered.
"I hope you weren't planning on sleeping." Yeah, she missed this game with him.
"Certainly not, darling."
She smiled even though he couldn't see her. "I'll be down soon."
"I look forward to it."
Emma gave herself one last once over in the mirror, then checked her clutch. She snapped it closed and flipped off the lights, heading for the elevator. Butterflies formed in her stomach, inexplicably. They'd been on dates before, what was the big deal?
The look on his face when he saw her, showed plainly what the big deal was. Killian was slightly slack jawed, blue eyes darkening as he perused her. If this was the look Elsa was talking about then...damn. His gaze warmed her all the way to her toes, bringing a blush to her cheeks. "Hi."
"Evening, princess."
She smirked, with a slight roll of her eyes. "You just won't give that up, huh?"
Killian stepped closer, taking her hand gently in his. He brought it to his lips and kissed the back. "Only stating a fact, love."
She squeezed lightly on his fingers, then curled her arm around his. "Shall we?" She tried to ignore the way his suit jacket stretched across his broad shoulders, the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck. All she wanted to do was run her fingers through it, tug on the strands. He smiled teasingly at her as they walked through the spacious lobby, almost as if he could read her thoughts.
Good grief, it was going to be a long night.
Killian helped her into the limo she hired, unable to resist running his hand lightly over her bare calf. Emma tried to look stern, but no sooner were they safely ensconced in the limo, than she was sliding her hands underneath his suit jacket, relishing his sharp intake of breath.
"Nice tie," she murmured against his ear.
His hands slid over her waist. "It was a gift. From a very beautiful lass."
"Hmm, she has good taste."
His hand came up to caress the apple of her cheek. "Aye, one of the things I love about her."
And there it was again, that thing he was saying without exactly saying it. Emma smiled shyly, pressing only the briefest kiss to his lips; she didn't want to ruin her make up just yet. She settled in next to him, fingers threaded with his. He pointed out some of the sights out the window, just making small talk as they headed deeper into the city.
"It's not New York, I'll grant you," Killian was saying, "but I've become fond of it."
"Is it much different from London?"
Killian laughed. "Oh lass, much different. Took me a whole bloody year to learn to how pronounce most of the street names. I lived on campus for the first two years; I didn't know a soul."
She cocked her head at him. It was hard for her to imagine just picking up and leaving home...seemingly forever. "Were you scared?"
"Bloody terrified. But I managed."
They arrived at the restaurant a few minutes later; Killian handed her out after she spoke briefly to their driver. From the outside, the restaurant looked just like a little Italian bistro, but she knew it was seriously nice on the inside. A waiter guided them to a table toward the back corner; it was very romantic with two tall white candles and a single red rose on Emma's plate.
She looked up at Killian as he pulled out her chair. "I may have altered your plans, just a tiny bit," he whispered, kissing her cheek. "I hope you don't mind."
Emma lifted the rose to her nose and inhaled the sweet scent. "Thank you, Killian." She smiled up at him, covering his hand still on her shoulder. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles, touched by his sweetness.
He nodded down at her, then moved around to the other side of the table. "This is a nice place. I don't think I've been here before."
Emma scoffed. "I find that hard to believe."
"Just what are you implying, Swan?"
She looked over at him through her lashes. "Oh come on. Handsome guy like you? Never brought a date here?"
He actually blushed, his cheeks tinging pink. "Ah, I was much too busy studying, lass. I'm afraid you might have me confused with someone else."
"Not one?"
"Love, I was a student, not a monk. I graduated in three years before starting my master's degree. Didn't leave much room for fun."
"What changed?"
He shrugged. "Just met the right person, I suppose."
It was her turn to blush. Their waiter arrived and they ordered some wine. Emma was surprised to hear him peruse the menu in near flawless Italian. "Wow, that's impressive. And I understood about half of it."
"It was either Italian or Russian. I chose the former."
"I chose French. I just liked how it sounded."
"Ah, those pesky general education requirements?"
She laughed. "Something like that. I just wanted to be like my dad."
"I believe I know what it's like to idolize a family member, lass."
When their wine arrived, Emma held up her glass. "To fresh starts?"
He smiled. "Aye." The glasses clinked and he winked at her, making her giggle. They were going to be okay.
Dinner was excellent, once Killian translated enough of the menu for her to decide what she wanted. During the salad course, Emma accidentally kicked him under the table, but that just led to a very discreet game of footsie as they ate their entrees; Killian ultimately gained the upper hand when he rediscovered the spot behind her knee that made her squirm. He massaged it gently, heat unfurling low in her belly.
"Killian..." she said warningly.
"What?"
"We're eating."
"Perhaps I'm not hungry for food."
The truth was she wasn't either, but there was one thing she wanted to do before they left. "I think I promised you a dance."
"You did." There was a grand piano on the other side of the restaurant, next to a small dance floor. There were only a handful of couples dancing, most of them in their own tiny world. When the song came to an end, Killian held out his hand. "Would you like to dance with me, Emma?"
"Yes."
Her dress swished around her legs, just below the knee, the layers of the skirt rustling. She fell in love with this dress the moment she saw it. Pale blue, layered skirt, the bodice fitted, but sheer at top around her shoulders. There was an intricate floral pattern sewn into the bodice, just under the bust, set off by bow wrapped around her like a belt. It was far more her style than the dresses her mother would help her pick out, insisting than her "image" must be maintained.
"Hey," Killian said softly. "You still with me, love?"
"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking."
Killian's hand was warm on her waist, sliding up to her lower back, pulling her just a bit closer. "About anything in particular?"
"My mother actually."
His brows shot up in surprise. "Not exactly something a bloke like to hear when he's holding you, lass."
Emma tightened her hand in his. "I was just thinking about how much she would disapprove of this dress."
His eyes looked down, drinking her again. "I may not be an expert on women's fashions, but I think you look fantastic." He leaned in closer to her ear. "And I can't wait to get you out of it."
She smiled, allowing him to spin her around, causing the skirt to flair. "Who says I'll be able to wait that long?"
"You are an impatient one, sweetheart.." They danced two more songs, getting steadily closer as they moved. "I knew you'd be good at this."
"All we're doing now is swaying," she pointed out.
"Aye, but I get to hold you and that's all that really matters." Emma buried her nose in the crook his shoulder, inhaling his cologne. He hardly every wore any, another sign that this night was different. After their dance, they finished off the bottle of the wine; Emma, as agreed upon, taking care of the bill.
As soon as they were outside, Killian pulled her into his arms and kissed her, his lips insistent, tasting faintly of wine. Emma sighed into his kiss, hands curling up around his collar. "I've been wanting to do that all day," Killian said, a little breathless.
"Well, don't stop then," she countered. There were a couple of valets standing around, but they discreetly looked away. Emma had called for their limo before they left the restaurant; they had time to kill before it arrived. Killian nudged them a little closer to one corner of the canopy before covering her mouth with his once more.
Emma slid her hand over his clothed chest, fingers toying with his tie. She loosened it a little as they kissed, arousal warming her, his hands caressing her through the fabric of her dress. By the time the limo got there, she tingled all over, her lips kiss swollen. Killian helped her into the limo once more, quickly shedding his suit jacket.
"Take the scenic route back, okay, mate?" he said to their driver. The man nodded curtly, pulling out into traffic. Emma's eyes narrowed in confusion until she saw him push the button that raised and locked the privacy window. "Oh my god."
Killian trailed his hand up her bare arm, goosebumps rising in his wake. "Is this okay?" he asked, kissing her shoulder.
She nodded, a thrum of desire shooting down her spine. It seemed appropriate that they found themselves in another semi public setting. And she'd missed him so much. Emma pulled him in by his tie, kissing him hard, nipping lightly on his lip.
"You don't have to be careful," she said, cradling his cheek. "I want my Killian back."
He looked taken aback for a moment, taking a deep breath and resting his forehead against hers. "I have missed you so bloody much, Emma."
She nodded vigorously, squealing in delight when he pulled her bodily into his lap. Her dress tangled around her legs, getting creased surely, but she didn't care. His large hands cupped her ass through the material, Emma pressed closer to him, kissing him deeply, nails scratching at his scruff. Killian growled, low in his throat, hips rocking up into hers.
"What do you want, Emma?" he demanded, mouth hot on her neck. "I can't decide."
Well, there were only so many options in the moving limo and she didn't want their first time since their fight to be some romp in a car, even if it was a stretch limo. She arched her back, moaning as he licked at her pulse. "You," she panted. "Under my dress."
"Bloody hell." He kissed her one last time, then flipped her back into the seat, where she landed with an oomph. Killian yanked his tie the rest of the way off and loosened his collar, his eyes never leaving hers. Emma gathered the material of her skirt in her hands, pulling it up, knowing they didn't have long. She scooted to the edge of the seat, legs spread, Killian's rough hands sliding over her thighs. Emma squirmed, impatient, wishing he would just get on with it already. His fingers slid under the edge of her panties, making the lightest contact with her aching core. "Hmm, I wonder what color these are," he said, tugging gently. He tugged harder, sharper, the thin cloth ripping. What was left of her black underwear appeared his hand, dangled in front of her. "Were these new?"
Emma nodded, a wave of pure lust washing through her. Christ, he was tearing her clothes now.
He grinned rakishly at her, then stuffed the ruined clothing into his pocket. Killian pressed her thighs wider, kissing the inside of each. Emma's hips rolled, desperate for his mouth, for some kind of relief. She moaned far too loudly as he tasted her, wicked tongue licking a stripe through her slit. His hands slid under her ass dragging her closer, her entire lower half off the the seat completely now. All she could see was the barest glimpse of his dark hair between her thighs, skirt clenched in her fists.
Emma had to bite her lip to keep her moans and mewls to a minimum, the pleasure sharp and sweet after so long without him. He tongued her clit, swirling around it, sucking it into his mouth. Emma cried out, her feet rising involuntarily, her body trying to curl in on itself as the pressure mounted. Killian lifted one leg onto his shoulder, mouth working her clit faster and faster. She let go of the skirt, covering her mouth with her hand just in time, biting on the tender flesh of her palm as her orgasm rocked her, her whole body shaking.
Killian hummed against her, bringing her down slowly, setting her back in the seat. He ducked out from under her dress, looking smug, still tenderly caressing her legs. "Alright, love?"
Emma struggled to sit up, still panting for breath. "Yeah. Damn."
"We're only just getting started, my love."
She gave him a weak smile; some of her arousal glistened on his chin. "You might want to wipe your mouth, Killian."
His tongue darted out to lick his lips. "Hmm, perhaps you should clean me up yourself, Swan."
Emma pushed the rumpled skirt down over her legs and beckoned him forward. He practically lept back into the seat next to her, and she kissed him, tasting herself plainly. She licked and lapped at his mouth until he was a bit more presentable. It was a good thing too, because they arrived at the hotel moments later. Killian stuffed his tie into the pocket of his jacket and placed it around her shoulders before scrambling out of the limo. Emma tried not to notice his slightly awkward gate or the way he stood behind her just long enough to adjust himself in his pants.
When his hand settled on the small of her back, they headed inside, moving directly for the elevators. They took the next car up, joined by an older couple, and a tired looking family of four. Emma pressed the button for their floor and settled with Killian in the back of the elevator, standing directly in front of him. His hands came around her waist, under his jacket, pulling her silently against his chest. Even through the layers of her skirt, she could feel the outline of his bulge. She moved a fraction to her left, smiling at Killian's deep breath as the bulge rubbed against her ass. Emma followed the numbers in the display as they went up, grinding back against him, her movements hidden by the voluminous skirts.
"You are playing with fire, lass," Killian muttered softly in her ear. The doors opened and the family stepped off, leaving them alone with the other couple, who paid them no mind. Emma's only reply was to lean back more, covering his hands with hers. On the next floor, the elderly couple left too, leaving them alone. Emma dragged their joined hands up to her covered breasts, sighing as Killian gave them a squeeze.
"I told you," she said, craning her neck to see his face. "I want you."
Killian groaned, squeezing a bit harder on her breasts. "I need you so much, Emma."
"I know." The doors clicked open on their floor and they hurried out, hand in hand, moving down the hall to their room. Emma got the door open, pressing Killian against it as soon as it was closed. Her heels made it easy for her to kiss him, fusing their lips together as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Killian's hands slid over her shoulders, pushing his jacket off then reaching for the zipper of her dress. He let out a frustrated growl when it didn't come open all the way; there was a button at the sheer top. Emma peeled his shirt off, her mouth on his chest. She licked every ridge of his toned muscles, tongue circling his nipples, fingers sliding over the soft hair. She couldn't wait to feel it rubbing her nipples. Killian loosened her dress as she tasted his skin; she could feel him shiver.
"Emma," he groaned, head hitting the door as she bit down at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "Fuck." She chuckled, tongue licking at his collarbone, that ridge where his arm met his shoulder that she loved so much. It had been far too long since she got to appreciate his body; something she was going to rectify tonight.
"You're mine," she said quietly, hands sliding over his ribs.
"Yes," he panted. "All yours, lass."
"Then take me to bed."
No other protest made, Killian picked her up bridal style and carried her to the enormous king size bed in the bedroom of their suite. Emma's mouth latched onto his neck, scruff tickling her nose as she sucked a mark into his skin. As soon as he put her down, he started to peel off her dress, his eyes widening when he realized she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. He'd already stripped her of her panties.
"God, you're gorgeous," he said reverently, a large hand cupping her breast. He thumbed at the nipple, watching it harden under his touch. Emma arched into him, leaning back on her elbows, warmth pooling in her stomach once more.
"I missed this," she murmured, eyes closed. "I missed you, Killian." She sighed when she felt his lips on her stomach, starting at her navel and moving up to the valley of her breasts. His clothed leg slipped between her parted thighs, and she ground her hips into the hard muscle.
Killian reached down and slid off her heels, leaving her completely nude before him. He left a parting kiss to her chest then reached for his now painfully tight pants. Emma sat up, moving to kneel behind him, her small hands sliding over his back. She gently massaged the muscles, watching them ripple and flex as he chucked his pants. Her mouth went a bit dry when she glanced over his shoulder; his thick hard cock lay against his stomach, begging for her touch.
"See something you like, Swan?" he said, his accent thick with arousal. He curled his fingers around his cock, lightly stroking, sighing in relief.
Watching him touch himself just made her wetter, sharpening the tiny ball of need at the apex of her thighs. Emma slid her arm under his, her chest pressed against his back, her hand covering his, her fingers fitting into the spaces between his so they were stroking him together. He was warm, velvety smooth and hard. Her core clenched, remembering just how fucking good he made her feel.
"Yeah, I do. You."
"Come here, love." Emma scrambled around, settling on her knees, tucked between his spread legs. Killian brought her hand to his cock, encouraging her to stroke and rub him. He made little hums of pleasure, hips rocking gently. This was so different from what she'd expected; she expected rough and frantic, the desire to have too much. But this was no less intense, just slower. Almost as if they were relearning each other. Killian drew her in for a slow languid kiss, his free hand sliding down between her legs. Emma moaned into his mouth as he stroked her, fingers slipping easily through her wet core.
"You like that, Emma?" he asked, kissing the corner of her mouth. She widened her knees, giving him just a little more access. He teased her, circling her clit and she moaned again.
"So good, Killian," she mumbled against his lips. "Don't stop." She kept stroking him, her thumb brushing the tip, smearing precum over it. Killian hissed, sliding a finger inside her.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me, lass. I'm gonna slide right in, fill you up." He added another finger, Emma inhaling sharply. "You love that, don't you? Taking all of me inside."
Emma was riding his fingers now, arms around his neck for leverage. "Fuck, more. God." He stretched her with a third finger; it wasn't the same, but she didn't want him to stop.
"That's it, love. Beautiful." He kissed her deeply, his free hand on her waist, keeping her steady, guiding her, tightening when she jerked. She jerked again, as he found that spot, whimpering with need.
"I'm gonna...oh god, Killian...close. Please."
He let go of her waist, his free hand finding her throbbing clit. He flicked it rapidly with his thumb, sending her tumbling over the edge in seconds. Her nails dug into his skin as she cried out, every muscle tightening, pleasure racing through her veins.
She slumped against his chest, her body covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Killian pulled his hands away, wiping them on the duvet before stroking her back. He kissed her temple, whispering how incredible she was.
It took her a few minutes to catch her breath, but she could see plainly that he still wanted her. And god, she needed him. She wanted them back in every way possible, so they could move forward. Emma pressed light kisses to his neck, her hand sliding between them again.
"Oh god, Emma," Killian hissed as she started to stoke him again.
"I need to feel you," she whispered into his ear, nipping on the lobe. "Please, Killian."
He kissed her, harsh and demanding, reaching for his discarded pants. She wasn't surprised when he pulled the little foil packet right out of his pocket, tearing it quickly. They knew what would happen after dinner. It had been far too long already.
He pushed Emma onto her back, looming over her, rubbing the ridge of his cock over her clit. Emma bit her lip, trying not to whine as he teased her, want blooming in her stomach. It was almost a surprise when he finally slid into her, filling her up just as he said. Emma moaned in pleasure, the stretch and burn of him along her walls exactly what she had been missing. Killian braced his hands on either side of her head, rocking into her slowly, letting them both feel it.
"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, his thrusts getting a little sharper, making her body shake. "Always so tight. God, I love fucking you, lass."
Emma wrapped her legs around his trim waist, her back arching under him. "Harder," she gasped. "Oh god. Harder."
Killian snapped his hips sharply. "Like this?" he growled, leaning down to capture her lips. Emma mewled her approval, tension coiling in her stomach again. Killian grasped one of her hands, threading their fingers together tightly over her head as he hit her just right, over and over again. Emma met him thrust for thrust, her hips rocking up, her mouth tearing from his as she cried out in ecstasy. Killian's hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering as she clenched around him, then he was there too, falling and falling, until he collapsed on top of her.
The bed was so soft, they seemed to sink into it, which was good because Emma was fairly certain she couldn't move. For the moment, she was worn out. Killian managed to roll off her...only to drag her with him, draping her over his chest. She could hear the rapid beat of his heart, gradually slowing, reflecting her own. It felt like a weight had been lifted, like they'd gotten out from under their gray cloud.
Killian toyed with the ends of her ponytail, his eyes closed. Emma almost thought he was asleep, until he started humming softly. She listened for a minute or two, feeling the vibrations under her palm. He appeared to have a nice voice, even to her ear. She didn't recognize the tune though.
"Is that a song?" she asked softly.
"Aye. It's a lullaby my mother used to sing when we were children."
"It sounds nice. I didn't know you could sing."
"I don't do it very often. Self conscious, I suppose."
"Self conscious? You?" He was cocky, sometimes to the point of being insufferable. But she usually found it kinda charming.
"Displaying a talent that wasn't football related generally didn't go over well back on the estate."
"That's dumb." She had trouble seeing her Killian as being bullied about something, especially with his brother around. However, there was still so much she was learning about him. "Would you sing for me?"
"Now, Swan, we were having a perfectly nice evening."
She propped her head in her hand and looked down at him. He was actually a bit flushed and she was fairly certain it had nothing to do with the recent sex. "Please?"
He sighed, as if very put out. "Give me a minute to get cleaned up, okay?"
She smiled. "I can do that."
Killian huffed and got up, presumably headed for the bathroom to wash and trash the condom. Emma rolled around on the huge bed—it was even bigger than her one back home—finally finding the edge of the duvet and pulling it back. She didn't bother with any clothes, knowing their night wasn't over. When Killian came back, she was propped up against the headboard, waiting expectantly. Killian ducked his head bashfully as he climbed into the bed, still not looking directly at her. She tucked herself into his side, gently taking his hand in hers. She felt his lips brush her hair softly, then he began to sing quietly.
She listened, transfixed, hardly taking in the words; she just let the soothing sound of Killian's voice wash over her. He was good. His voice was low and rich, like melted chocolate. She felt it deep in her soul; it made her so happy that he shared it with her.
When the song ended, Emma raised her head and kissed him sweetly. "Thank you."
"For what, love?"
"Everything?" There would still be things they needed to work out, but for now she was content. They had time.
"I'm afraid I didn't do much tonight, Swan. It was all you."
"I wasn't talking about tonight. Although, I did have an amazing time." She laid her head on his shoulder. "I guess...I meant...for fighting to make this work? For thinking that's it's worth it."
"I'm sorry for nearly screwing it all up. I never meant to hurt you, Emma."
"We've got different views of the world; we're not going to see eye to eye on everything. Besides, that would be boring as hell."
"Let's try to make our disagreements a little less interesting though, yeah?"
"No problems here. I think we're due for a nice stretch of boring."
She only hoped they could get it.