They stumbled through the doorway to her bedroom, limbs entangled, mouths devouring each other, each of them frantically trying to divest the other of their clothing first. She should've known it would come to this, Emma thought, moaning as his lips pressed a hot trail of kisses down the curve of her neck to her bare shoulder. He pulled back with a smirk. Cerulean eyes radiated a passion that sent a jolt through her. Heat pooled between her thighs, aching with the need to be doused.

"Like that, do you, neighbor?" he teased, nipping at her lower lip as he moved to kiss her senseless again.

She should have seen it coming miles away. She'd been all but literally screwed the moment she rushed out the door to her car, four weeks ago, late for work.

Emma locked the front door of her house and hurried down the sidewalk, cursing when she dropped her keys. Ducking to pick them up, she heard laughter. Keys in hand, she turned around, searching for its source, and spied a man sitting, shirtless, in the back of a half-empty moving truck, legs dangling toward the street. Raising his beer in salute when he noticed her noticing him, his smug smile practically lit up the entire block, never mind the flickering streetlamp nearby, struggling to make itself relevant in the semi-darkness. "Hello, neighbor," he drawled, his eyes roving over her not once, or even twice, but three times.

Jesus, this was her new neighbor? she thought. He was going to be trouble, she realized, fumbling with her keys as she tried to unlock her car. Which had absolutely nothing to do with him sitting there, legs swinging merrily, his hair messy and tousled as if he'd just had a roll in the hay. Nor did it have anything to do with the hair that downed his chest, or the generous stubble on his cheeks that looked all too inviting. Absolutely nothing.

Emma tried her usual tactic of rolling her eyes and throwing back a snide remark, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. In fact, much to her irritation, it encouraged him. "See you later, then," he laughed as she got into her car with a huff and drove off, his laughter a tangible warmth that didn't leave her for the rest of the evening.

"It's Emma," she breathed, fingers circling the waistband of his jeans, teasing him, before they danced up the hard planes of his chest, exploring and stroking. He practically purred beneath her touch.

"Well, Emma," he said, lowering her onto the bed, "let me introduce myself properly at last." He drew the strap of her bra down her shoulder with his teeth. "Killian Jones."

"I know," she gasped out as his thumb smoothed over the curve of her bra, pressing more firmly where her nipple lay underneath it. He raised an eyebrow. "You're the talk of the neighborhood," she laughed.

He looked mildly surprised at that, before it was replaced with an expression of exasperating smugness. "And what have you been saying about me, then, darling?" he inquired, nibbling an earlobe as one hand slid the other strap of her bra down, the other gently lifting her from mattress until she was semi-reclined in his arms. Nimble fingers unhooked her bra, and it fell into her lap, where Killian picked it up, eyeing the red lace with avid interest before tossing it over his shoulder.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she teased, fingers burrowing into his dark hair, massaging the scalp. He closed his eyes with a sigh, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Perhaps I would," he admitted, pressing his body against hers as she drew him back on to the bed with her.

Emma reached forward and stroked the peak of hardness through the jeans he still wore. "I know what you're doing, Emma," he growled, eyes darkening with desire. "This conversation isn't over."

It was her turn to smirk. Ignoring him, she unzipped the fly of his jeans. She drew the rough fabric away from his hips. Killian obliged her efforts, shifting in the bed to shimmy out of them. Emma took advantage of the moment to push him onto his back. He grinned at her, his gaze smoldering, and twirled a lock of her hair between his fingertips. Emma slid a hand up the leg of his black boxers, squeezing his balls lightly before her fingers closed around his hardened, silky length. "Fuck," he groaned weakly, his eyes rolling back into his head before he closed them. "I've fantasized about that for weeks," he panted.

He wasn't the only one. Emma had hardly thought of anything else, herself. If it wasn't the snarky conversations they shared with each other across the fence every afternoon while Killian nursed a beer or a glass of rum, sometimes the occasional cola, shirts again nowhere to be found (Did the bastard even own any?), it was the sight of him mowing the lawn, hopelessly shirtless, every Saturday morning, that sent her mind into a frenzy of dirty thoughts...

Emma stepped onto the back porch, a steaming mug of hot chocolate sprinkled with cinnamon clutched in one hand, the newspaper tucked underneath an arm. She eased into one of the patio chairs, stretching her legs out before her and crossing them at the ankles. It was her usual Saturday morning ritual: fail miserably at completing the daily crossword puzzle while she sipped at her drink and waited for her the caffeine to hit her blood stream and wake her up.

She laid the paper out in her lap, reaching for the pencil she'd tucked behind one ear.

"Morning, neighbor."

Emma started, spilling hot chocolate on her lap. "Shit!" she hissed, wincing as some of the liquid spilled off the newspaper and splattered onto her knee, burning her. She threw the newspaper aside and cast about for a place to set down the remains of her hot chocolate.

There was a brief clanging sound, and before she knew it, he'd vaulted the chain link fence that separated their properties and bounded up to her. "You all right?" he asked with concern. "I didn't mean to give you such a fright."

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she insisted, her every nerve taut with tension, her senses hyper alert to the fact that, once, again, he was shirtless. His chest muscles gleamed with sweat, and bits of grass clung to his hair. She stole a quick glance at his yard and spied the lawnmower standing in the grass, a canister of gasoline sitting near it.

"You're not fine," he argued as she finally stowed the hot mug of liquid beneath her chair. "We should go inside and take care of it. It would be a shame to scar those gorgeous legs," he leered. "Do you have any aloe vera?"

"Any what?" she said blankly.

He snorted. "Of course not. Come with me." Without giving her so much as the courtesy of an opportunity to protest, he took her by the hand and led her out of the back yard. They crossed over onto his property and slipped his back yard, latching the gate behind them.

"Come on in," he told her, sliding the screen door open to let her inside his house. He gestured to for her to enter. "Ladies first."

"I don't think so," she said with narrowed eyes. "You could be an ax-murderer, or a predator, or something."

Rolling his eyes, he held up his hands for her inspection. "Do these look like hands that have ever held an ax?" Blotches of ink stained fingers and palms, calluses dotting the fingertips of his right hand.

"No," she muttered, "but that doesn't mean anything."

He sighed. "Wait here, then." He stepped inside the house, then poked his head back out again. "As for the predator part, darling, I'll have you know that any prey I stalk consents willingly before I eat it." And with a swipe of his tongue across his lower lip, and an irreverent wink, he disappeared from sight completely, leaving Emma to sputter with indignation.

Her hand pumped up and down the length of him, tugging his shaft gently every time she reached the tip. He growled, his breathing becoming more and more ragged. Pleased with the effect her efforts had on him, she increased the tempo of her ministrations, tugging with a little more force. He surged up suddenly, pressing her back against the mattress. "Easy, lass," he croaked, removing his boxer shorts and then stripping her of her panties, "or it'll be over before either of us gets a chance to enjoy this properly."

Cupping a breast with one hand, he lowered his mouth onto it, tongue flicking over the nipple in quick, teasing motions that set Emma aflame. She squirmed beneath him, arcing her body against his instinctively. He chuckled, nipping at her other breast with gentleness before he nuzzled against it, his facial stubble scraping against it with an arousing roughness. Planting kisses in the crevice between her breasts, he blazed a trail downward, parting her legs with one hand to allow him better access.

Peering up at her from beneath dark, curling lashes, he grinned at her and lowered his head between her thighs. "Holy-!" She emitted a sound that was something between a pant and a groan as his warm tongue slicked through the heat gathered in her core, flicking, sucking, and gently nipping by turns. "God, Killian!" she cried, as his tongue circled her sensitive nub and flicked across it with a light nimbleness that literally made her legs tremble with the strain of holding back her orgasm.

Killian noticed her efforts and nuzzled his face against a thigh. "Let go, Emma," he whispered.

"But-but I want both of us-" she panted, unable to finish her sentence as he flicked his tongue over her nub again. Her orgasm hit hard, a drawn out scream that sounded utterly foreign to her ears emerging from her throat as it hit her in wave after wave of ecstasy. When it faded, leaving her trembling in a whole new way than before, Killian leaned over her, chuckling, the expression on his face supremely smug, and a gentle affection in his eyes that made Emma's heart skip a beat.

"Am I to take it you enjoyed yourself, neighbor?" he teased with an arrogant wink.

She cuffed him under the chin with one hand. "Bastard."

He cupped her face with one hand, brushing his lips across hers with a tenderness that sent a chill of warning through her. He nipped and teased his way into her mouth before she could think up a way to put distance between their hearts again, prevent their emotions from becoming entwined with what they were doing, and after a moment she became lost in the heady sensation of his kisses, his teasing strokes and gentle caresses, and ceased to care anymore.

When he lowered himself against her some time later, the tip of his shaft teasing at her entrance, Emma growled and pulled his hips forward, hands sliding around to grip the curve of his buttocks. He grinned. "So impatient, love," he chided. "Very, well, as you wish," he acceded, carefully sliding into her. Killian entered her to the hilt, eyes closing with a ragged sigh. "Emma," he murmured against her ear, "you feel so good."

She bucked her hips in response, and his eyes opened. He smiled in amusement and started to move, wordlessly guiding them both toward the release they sought with each other. His thrusts were gentle at first, almost agonizingly slow, and Emma cursed at him several times in frustration. Killian laughed. "Slow down, love," he encouraged. "Savor it."

But love was precisely what Emma was trying to avoid feeling. She'd toed the line for far too long with him already. If she didn't pull back now, she never would. Fast. Hard. Sweaty. That was what she needed, what she wanted, to distract her from the feelings stirring inside of her. She arched her hips up to meet his, slamming them together with a roughness that lit a spark of desire in his eyes.

The problem was, Emma realized as Killian's pace increased to match her own, that the more energy she poured into it, the more her feelings for him intensified. When her orgasm hit, the onslaught of emotions that washed over her was far more intoxicating than the high her release brought. Killian exploded his release into her moments later, his drawn out moan an arousing sound in itself. Panting, he peered down at her afterward, his mouth slack and the expression in his eyes faintly shocked. Kissing her underneath her chin, he rolled off of her and curled against her side, flinging an arm over her possessively.

"What the hell was that?" she managed weakly.

He laughed. "A bit of neighborly affection," he winked.

"Mmm," she said, eyeing him sidelong, her nerves singing with tension. She took a deep breath, butterflies in her stomach, as she closed her eyes and took a leap of faith. "Maybe...maybe we could be affectionate again sometime?" she tried.

She felt his lips brush against her cheek. Emma opened her eyes, and his cerulean ones watched her with a smile. "It would be my pleasure, neighbor."