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Warm rays of sunshine shone on her face and she couldn't help but smile and look up at the duck egg blue sky that peeked from behind the buildings above. She felt light and free: her shoulders were pinned back, the air was sweet and clean, and for the first time in as long as she could remember, her mind was at rest.

No buzzing worry, no niggling fears, no sensation that something must be about to go wrong…

It was strange.

Relishing in the sensation, she turned to look at the tall, handsome man walking beside her. His strong features were all the more apparent in the bright light and she felt a little leap in her stomach when he turned and gave her a wink. A bright, sparkling laugh bubbled up her throat and her smile became broader.

They continued walking along the busy street. All around were commuters hurrying to work, cabbies vying for fares, newsstands hawking papers: the normal sounds of a Tuesday afternoon. But for Emma this was no ordinary Tuesday. It marked just over 24 hours since he had stopped her walking away. Twenty-four hours in which she had thrown caution to the wind and let this almost stranger closer than she had let anyone in years.

That first night they had lain together, bodies entwined, breathing in time, her head on his chest - everything quiet and still… It all had felt so normal and natural: like they had done this a thousand times before. They ate breakfast in bed before lying together and just talking. About movies and books and travel and philosophy. He'd surprised her with his quiet wisdom and dry wit. She, in turn, had amused him with stories of the terrible jobs she had had in the past. Together they had fallen asleep that night on the couch while watching a movie, covered in a blanket, the TV silently playing to itself.

The morning had been spent negotiating with her landlord. He wanted double the rent to let her back in. Emma had shouted. He had threatened to call the cops. Killian had cooled the situation - offering to loan her the money to pay her past due rent and help her move until she could find something else. She'd agreed, with just a little cajoling, and together they had quickly packed up her belongings and loaded them into his car.

Currently his apartment was stacked with cardboard boxes and shopping bags filled with clothes and trinkets and kitchen supplies. She'd promised to find someplace else to live within a day or two; he smiled and told her not to worry.

As they reached an intersection, his fingers brushed against hers. She blushed fiercely as he trailed his fingertips around her hand, circling her palm before entwining her hand in his. His warm, slightly roughened palm felt strange and unfamiliar pressed against hers. He squeezed her hand tightly as the lights let the pedestrians cross. Walking across the road the surface seemed to disappear beneath her feet - she became weightless, almost dizzy. Pulling her closer he dropped a kiss on her forehead as they reached the pavement.

"See you at seven?"

"Yes," she smiled, tugging him down into another kiss, "Seven at O'Malleys for drinks."

"That's right," he laughed, snaking an arm around her waist and pulling her to him tightly, "Or we could just, you know, skip the drinks…" his lips found their way to her neck and started to lay a hot path down to her shoulder.

"Killian," she whispered, biting her lip as flashes of heat coursed through her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she slowly pushed him back, "We really ought to spend some time together actually in public."

His eyes downturned in a fake puppy dog look that had her shaking her head.

"Oh if you insist," he sighed, taking hold of her hand and placing upon it a soft, warm kiss. He trailed a finger lightly over her jaw, staring deep into her eyes for a moment: a moment where everything else melted away, the air became quiet and still, time seemed to stop. "You're lovely Emma, do you know that?"

The words took her by surprise. She blinked a few times and narrowed her eyes. He seemed to perceive her shock and he dropped his gaze.

"I'm sorry, I mean, I'm not trying to-"

She stopped him with a kiss. A simple, almost chaste pressing of closed lips together- pressing their faces together with her hand cupping his head.

"Thank you," she whispered into his ear.

No, she didn't believe him, but the fact he thought that about her, made her feel hopeful that one day she could.

"So…" Ruby cooed. The brunette lay back against her chair taking a sip of her latte.

"So," Emma echoed, averting her friends prying look by playing with the fastening on her purse.

"Details Emma, I need details! I don't see you for a week and when I finally get a call from you, you're living with some guy?"

"We are not living together!" Emma hissed, dropping her head closer to her friends.

"Um, well you just said all your stuff is in his apartment-"

"He's just helping me out." Emma stopped to open up a packet of Splenda and stirred it into her own milky coffee before replacing the spoon to her saucer with a gentle clink.

"Em, if you needed help you could have stayed with me-"

"In your one bedroom apartment with you and Victor going at it, at all hours? No thank you…"

"Fair point," she conceded, 'Bur seriously, what's going on?' Ruby stared across the small round table, her lips curving, tongue running over her red lip, raising her brows until Emma cracked and let out a laugh.

"Okay, I'll admit it. I do like the guy. He's… different. But he's only in town for another week. It's just a thing."

"A thing?" the brunette sassed, taking a bite of her biscotti, "Most of your 'things' are out of your bed before the sheets are warm. Come on Emma, you're not telling me everything."

Emma swallowed a mouthful of warm, milky coffee then peeled off her coat.

Ruby was her oldest friend in Seattle. They'd met when they'd waitressed together five years ago and she'd never lied to her before.

"Fine. He- he was a client."

"A client-" Ruby began, before her voice died in her throat and a flash of recognition crossed her face. "Oh."

An awkward little silence spanned the table. Ruby knew about Emma's job and she knew she sometimes took on 'extra' work. But she'd never liked or accepted it. Emma felt small and uncomfortable and squirmed against her seat - the hard glossy wood suddenly feeling like it was tipped with a thousand tiny spikes.

"Em-"

"Ruby I know what you are going to say and you don't need to. I'm stopping it all. No more dancing. No more anything else…"

"Is this because of him?" she asked.

Nervously, Emma ran her fingers through her hair and played with the strap of her purse. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, "I just - I just think it's time for a change."

Her friend smiled and reached out and took hold of her hand. Ruby's touch was soft and her smile was warm, "Good. I've told you a million times you're worth so much more than this. So I'm glad - whatever your reasons." Her brows arched and her eyes softened, crinkling a little at the corners.

"Thank you."

The server brought over two slices of lemon cheesecake and they each started to eat, forking the crumbly cake into their mouths as Ruby regaled Emma with her latest sexual exploits.

"Don't you guys ever run out of things to do? Surely even the karma sutra has a final page," Emma laughed.

"If you run out of ideas, you're not using your imagination," Ruby replied with a wink. "And on that subject, spill. This guy - what's his name again?"

"Killian." Emma blushed as she said his name, a soft little flutter teasing her belly.

"Cute name. Anyway, I need details."

"It's good."

"Just good?"

Emma wriggled in her seat and shuffled a little closer, looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "Okay it's fucking fantastic. Like nothing I've had before."

"That's more like it."

"He's just so - so…" Emma couldn't put her finger on what it was that made him so different. "I don't know what he is. But his accent is goddamn pure sex…" She let a memory of his voice slip over her for a second: he was saying her name, repeating it like a prayer. "But like I said, it's just a temporary thing. He's off back East on Monday."

Ruby gave her a pointed look, pausing with a forkful of cake halfway to her mouth.

"Haven't you told me a million times that you want to move back there some day?"

God Ruby knew her too well. She cursed her friend and all her infallible arguments.

"Yes…"

"So? It's perfect, hot rich guy, lives where you wanna live, clearly likes you-"

Emma sank the rest of her coffee and licked her lips before shaking her head.

"What Emma? What possible reason could you have for not going for this? You deserve some happiness-"

"Ruby, you know me. I'm not the relationship type. I like to be alone. This is nice, for now. He's a nice guy. Actually, he's lovely. But that's it. Now can we please change the subject?"

Her friend gave her a wary glance before gesturing to the server. "Okay Emma. If that's how you want it."

And with that, the conversation about Killian Jones was over and Ruby began to chat idly about the vacation she and Victor were planning. Emma didn't listen -couldn't listen. Instead she nodded and hmm'd at the right moments. Instead she couldn't stop thinking of Killian Jones and trying to come up with reasons to let him go.

Almost a week later

Warm, damp lips trailed over her stomach and she squealed. Her shirt was pushed up around her middle, her knees raised and feet flat on the mattress. He lay nestled between her legs, fingers gripping her waist as she rolled into his touch.

"You're tickling me," she laughed - his scruff rubbing over her skin as he pushed higher until her shirt was lifted over her bra.

"And I like it when you laugh, so that's why I'm doing this," he quipped.

She let her head roll back and spread out her arms, giving herself over to him. "Do your worst, Jones."

"Oh I love a challenge, Emma."

Her t-shirt bunched around her neck as both hands pulled down the soft cups of her bra. Her nipples began to harden in the cool air and she tightened her thighs around him, grinding up against his growing hardness just enough to tease him.

Suckling against her, one hand cupped her breast while the other undid her fly; the fingers sliding under her panties and making her gasp as they dipped into her damp folds.

"Killian," she moaned, grabbing his hair with one hand and pressing the other in the space between his shoulder blades. His t-shirt was thin and she could feel his lean muscles working underneath as his fingers started to curve into her and his thumb found her clit. "Damn it," she sighed.

His tongue lapped against her breast, then sucked harder, teasing her nipple into a stiff peak and making her press her chest closer to him. Pulling away, he ran his tongue down her breastbone and stomach, hands tugging down her jeans as he did.

She let her body go limp. He slid her to the edge of the bed and dropped to his knees. She knew what was to come and she tensed in anticipation. He toyed with her. Kissing her knees, her thighs, along her hip bone. His fingers traced her folds. He blew hot, steamy breaths over her core.

Helpless. She was helpless to his actions. But she loved it. Craved it. Desired it. Thought herself going mad - until he relented and brought his mouth to her.

He lavished her with attention; bringing her to the edge with practiced skill that had her cooing and shaking.

Then he peeled off her shirt and stripped off his own clothes. She let him lift her body back to the bed - still buzzing from her orgasm. She watched from the blissful haze as he settled between her legs and kissed her shoulder.

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes sparkled, his lips were bruised a deep red, sweat glazed his cheeks. God she-

What? She what? What did she-

Then there he was, teasing at her entrance and her mind went blank. He was pushing back strands of hair with his hand, using the other to sling her thighs around his waist.

God he went deep. She hugged her legs around him, urging him closer. She was consumed by him. He was rutting into her oh-so-gently, the motion was almost undetectable. But hell she could feel it. Every little movement had her stomach rippling and the veil of desire that had fallen over her eyes thickening and making everything around her fade into darkness.

A quick layer of sweat appeared as their two bodies became pressed together and she hungrily kissed him. Wanting him everywhere.

Because, maybe, this would be the last time she'd get to feel him.

This sudden realization gripped her heart and sent a cool panic coursing through her veins. Tomorrow he had to leave. Tomorrow he was going. Tomorrow she would be alone again.

Her body protested and rocked with him. They moved in synch - pressing and rolling and shifting just enough to draw out their pleasure. The build was slow, every sensation magnified as he took her with such care and ease she actually wanted to cry for some reason.

But she knew, it was because it had never been this way.

He kept surprising her. Showing her more. It had never been like this. How could every time be a revelation? It was like he was learning her body like an instrument; discovering new notes and tunes to play with every passing day.

A constant, rhythmic pace continued. She didn't know for how long. Time seemed to disappear briefly. She looked into his eyes- those beautiful blue eyes that she had become so attached to. He brought his hands to cup her face, his hips circling, whispering sweet encouragements, placing little kisses on her forehead.

It was so gentle. The build was slow and almost painful. She was fit to burst when he nudged her hips back so he could thrust that bit deeper, that bit harder.

When her release hit, she strained to keep her eyes open. Her gaze stayed trained on his as she let out a mumbling curse that had him chasing his own orgasm: his brow crumpling and his fingers tightening as he cried one little word, "Emma."

xoxoxoxoxo

Sitting on the vanity in the bathroom, she watched him shave. He pulled the razor down in slow, measured strokes, leaving a path of clean skin as he rinsed the blade and repeated the process.

"I like the beard," she sighed, lying back against the mirror.

"Me too," he smiled, "But sometimes I need to look a little clean cut."

"Ah yes, work…" her voice trailed off sadly. She looked at her watch, it was 8am. He'd be leaving soon.

"What time is your flight again?" she asked, trying to sound disinterested but failing miserably.

"Eleven," he replied flatly.

Silently she nodded. A dull little silence descended, punctuated by the scratch of stubble against sharp metal. "You know I never really thanked you. For everything. And you know I'm going to pay you back-"

"Emma I've said don't worry about it." He paused and turned to look at her, "And remember this place is paid for until the end of the week so…"

"So…" she nodded.

He returned to his task, tackling that little tricky spot below his nose and wincing when he nicked the skin. "Here, let me help you," she whispered, taking the razor from his hand and nudging him between her legs.

With small, quick strokes she sliced through the thick stubble. Beneath his skin was unfamiliar - soft and light. He looked younger, more innocent perhaps. She tried to focus - not to let his closeness disarm her, not to be affected by the feel of his body close to hers.

A feeling was bubbling in her throat. Something that had lain dormant for days now. It was unfamiliar and awkward yet warm and nice.

She narrowed her eyes, concentrating on his jawline, careful not to cut his skin, trying to ignore his parted lips and warm breath…

And words were on the tip of her tongue, she wanted to say something - 'stay with me, don't go, I think I'm falling in love with you…'

Without realizing it, she had stopped.

"Emma?" he asked.

Her hand was shaking a little. She was scared.

Emma Swan was truly scared. Because she finally accepted she was falling for this man - she didn't want him to leave. He couldn't leave her- could he?

"Emma? You're shaking, what-"

And she looked at him, straight in the eye and he knew. His eyes searched hers. He took the blade from her hand and pulled her closer to the edge of the vanity until their faces almost touched.

"I-"

She wanted to tell him. How much she wanted to tell him! But the words got stuck and she wanted to cry in frustration. Dampness pricked the corners of her eyes and her breathing became heavy and shaken.

"Come here, shhhh."

One hand in her hair, he pulled her face to his shoulder. She held him tight, knowing this may be the last time…

"Come with me," he whispered in her ear.

She stiffened and dug her fingers tighter.

"Killian, I can't…"

"Why not?"

His grip loosened, he dropped his forehead to hers.

She couldn't think of an answer. Every idea that formed seemed weak - I barely know you, I have a life here (ha!), what would I do? What if things don't work out?

"Okay," she whispered.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief.

"Really," she nodded, not quiet believing that she had agreed to go with him. Since when was Emma Swan this brave? "Carpe diem, right?"

"Indeed," he smiled, before smothering her in little kisses that made her giggle and smile until her stomach ached. Finally he stopped and took a deep breath. "Emma, I-"

She swallowed. Her eyes widened a little in panic. She knew what he was going to say… No, it would be too much.

But he stopped. Instead he pressed a kiss to her lips, "I promise you won't regret this."

And she hoped the same too.

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