A/N: Welcome to my first CS multi-chapter fic! I've been working on this off and on for seven months and decided I would finally post the first chapter (I wanted to make sure I had a decent amount of it written/knew where I was going before posting the beginning).

Also, as said in the summary, this story involves a one night stand. As such, there's smut in the first couple chapters. It may also pick up later on. But this will be mostly plot and not all sex. You've been warned.

Chapter 1: he said let's get out of this town

Emma breathes in deeply as she steps out on the terrace. This is her favorite time of day. The sun is just dipping past the horizon, causing reds and oranges and pinks to intermingle with the purples and blues of the early twilight sky. This time of year, the sunset looks like a painting and she can't get enough of it. She places her hands on the railing, smiling as the breeze sweeps her mane of hair off her back and over her shoulder. Emma may not be a huge fan of these stuffy parties, but she can't deny this venue is killer. Not that she should have expected anything less. Her manager, Regina, had impeccable taste and an attitude that demanded the best. That attitude is part of what Emma loves about her as a manager. Although she can come across as abrasive at times, the lack of sugar-coating can be extremely refreshing. Emma can always count on Regina to set her straight if she's doing something stupid. Regina's impeccable taste is undeniable in her choice of venue for her engagement party—the Chelsea loft is nearly surrounded by windows showcasing gorgeous views of the city lights and the Hudson. Regina had the place done up with rich purple and red curtains and sleek lights, changing the space from an industrial feel to something much more sophisticated and elegant.

She stares out over the city for a long time, enjoying the view, the cooling air of late summer, and the lack of company. She hasn't really grown accustomed to being around so many people. And even though this is not a business party, it sort of feels like one, what with the high profile people in attendance and the photographers covering the event. If it's rude or gauche for her to be out standing on the terrace enjoying the peace and the sounds of the city below her, then so be it. Emma has been socializing all evening and her face aches from the forced smiling. She takes a long sip from her martini and closes her eyes, settling herself for a moment.

"Quite a spectacular view, wouldn't you say?" a voice interrupts her daydreaming, causing her to jump. "Sorry to disturb you, love," the man adds in a gorgeous accent.

Emma opens her eyes and tries not to grind her teeth at the obvious flirting. She spins around to retort something about not being this stranger's love, no matter how fucking perfectly his voice curls around the word, but stops when she meets his eyes. Of course it's him: the freakishly gorgeous looking man who was making eyes at her across the room earlier. "You don't seem too sorry," she says finally, raising an eyebrow at him. She sees right through the smiling, charming, gorgeous stranger thing, and she's not about to buy the nonchalant attitude of his greeting. He followed her out here.

The stupid grin on his face grows wider (which is exactly the opposite of what she was expecting). "You know what? You're right. But you see, I saw how you so have been interacting with people in there, so clearly out of your element. You obviously hate these sort of forced-formal interactions. So, being the gentleman I am, I thought I'd just check in to see if you're alright."

Emma bites down on the inside of her cheek. So Mr. Stupid-Beautiful-British-Guy was watching her all evening. And he was also a cocky asshole. Wonderful. "I do not obviously hate these things."

He laughs freely at her stubborn. "You might as well be wearing a flashing sign that says 'get me out of here'. You're not fooling anyone, darling."

"Well clearly I am, seeing as everyone I've actually talked to tonight hasn't said a word," she grumbles.

"Then I guess I should retract my previous statement," he says. "You may be fooling the rest of the partygoers, but you're not fooling me. In fact," he continues (she wishes he would stop talking), "it seems you're something of an open book."

She scoffs, trying (and failing) not to roll her eyes. "Right. Because you clearly know me so well, Mr. I-don't-even-know-your-name."

His responding grin is dark and Emma suppresses a shiver at the way his tongue darts out from between his teeth. "Apologies, my dear. Killian Jones." He holds out his hand proudly to shake hers. Emma simply nods in acceptance and grasps his hand. "Any chance I could have the honor of knowing your name?" he asks, clearly amused.

"Emma," she answers.

"Just Emma?" he challenges. She shrugs. "Well, Emma. Most men may find your silence off-putting, but I love a challenge."

She shakes her head and turns back towards the balcony to hide the smile threatening to creep across her face. She tilts her glass up to her lips and frowns when she finds it's empty. Her shadow (now known as Killian) notices and leans against the railing to consider her face. "Would you like me to go get you a refill?" he asks tentatively.

She glances over to regard his face and is surprised to see his cocky grin is gone. She's a little concerned with the change; Emma knows how to deal with a self-assured, flirty man. Sincerity and kindness are a little harder for her to blow off. "I can get my own drink, Jones," she says, offering him a small smile as she turns around.

"Would you mind terribly if I join you?" He's giving her an out, which should make this easier. She can just tell him to go away and he'll leave her alone. Instead she finds herself shaking her head, and a wide grin grows across his face. "Excellent," he says, pulling the door open to let her back into the party. "After you, my lady."

He lets her order her own drink when they reach the bar, which she appreciates; she has had plenty of experiences with men trying to do stupid things for her that she could very easily have done better by herself. They sit next to one another at the bar while waiting for their orders to be filled. Emma is genuinely surprised that she doesn't mind his company. He's not trying to fill the silence with small talk every single moment, something which seems rare to her these days. When the bartender brings over their drinks, she doesn't get up, just thanks the woman serving her drink and turning towards Killian.

"How long have you lived in the States?" she asks, trying not to smile at the apparent shock on his face that she initiated conversation.

"A little over three years. I moved around the UK quite a bit before that. Got a job offer here in the city and decided I'd seen enough of England and Ireland. So I moved here."

"That seems like a big decision," she comments.

He simply shrugs. "I had no reason to stay."

Emma swallows and nods. "I know what that's like. I moved around a lot, too." She's always been a bit of a loner; didn't have any family until about five years ago when her biological brother tracked her down.

"How long have you been in New York?" he asks, nonverbally agreeing not to pry into the reason for one another's nomadic existence.

"Just a month, actually. I was in Boston before that."

"Do you like it here?" he asks, his eyes boring into hers.

She shrugs. "I like it just fine."

He tilts his head and raises one eyebrow, making it clear he doesn't buy it.

She breathes a laugh. "Alright, it's a little too crowded and a little too noisy. And people are just always in a hurry to get everywhere."

"Is that all?" he urges her to continue, an amused smile on his face.

Emma bites the inside of her lip, considering for a moment. "It also smells kind of terrible."

He laughs a full, bright thing that makes her smile. "That's just in the summer. No worries, love. Once it cools off a bit, the odors of the city get quite more bearable."

"Good to know," she answers, no longer hiding her smile. She doesn't try to object when Killian flags down the bartender and asks for a refill of her now empty martini.

They continue to talk for about an hour, regaling tales of the cities they've both lived in. His eyebrows shoot up when she mentions working as a bail bondsperson. When she asks him about it, he simply replies "Forgive me if this is overstepping, love, but that's kind of hot."

If she hadn't drunk as much as she has, Emma would be significantly more embarrassed by the giggles that keep escaping her at his well-timed comments. But considering the pleasant buzz that is warming through her veins, she can't bring herself to care. It feels nice not to force a smile like she has the rest of the evening. Now that she's not scowling at him, Killian's flirty side begins to make a reappearance, which encourages her to shoot him playfully disgusted looks. She tries not to be obvious about how her stomach flips at his laughter that follows each of her looks.

She admits to him that she's almost always lived in bigger cities, but has always wondered what it would be like to get away from the light pollution and noise every once in a while. "My favorite place I lived was Tallahassee. It was about half an hour from the beach, so I drove down there a lot, and the city itself wasn't very big. I thought about moving somewhere closer to water again recently, but it didn't work out."

He nods, taking a long drink from his tumbler of scotch. "I know what you mean; the water calls to me as well. I grew up on the beach, actually. Although the beaches in Ireland pale in comparison to those of Florida, I'm sure."

Emma smirks. "Yeah, I doubt the swimming is ideal up there."

"It definitely is not," he agrees. "But the sailing was."

"You sailed?"

He nods. "I still do. I have a sailboat at home. Nothing to brag about, just a small little thing, but she's better than nothing."

"That sounds wonderful," she sighs, "I've always wanted to live closer to the ocean."

He scratches behind his ear, an action she can only guess is a nervous tick. "Well I don't mean to sound presumptuous, Emma, but if you'd like to spend time on the water, I'm heading to my house in Long Beach for the weekend. What do you say we get out of the city for a bit?"

Emma chews on her bottom lip. She knows what he is implying and she wants to say yes. She's single, buzzed but not drunk enough to regret it tomorrow, and she doesn't have any plans for the rest of the weekend, but part of her feels like she shouldn't. Killian is acting like he sincerely wants to get to know her. And she doesn't do that. The whole 'get to know you' thing. She's had one too many bad experiences 'getting to know' men. But he's kind of sweet. And gorgeous. And what the hell. She finishes the remainder of her martini in one long drink. "Alright," she says. His answering grin stretches wide, causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle in a way that is downright cute.

Well, shit. She is so screwed.

They take a town car out of the city and her stomach is in knots. Emma is no stranger to one night stands, but the nature of this makes her uneasy. It's not a drunken five minute taxi ride to some guy's apartment where she can sneak out and hail a cab in the morning. Even without traffic in the late evening, it takes them just under an hour to get to Killian's place in Long Beach. She mentally calculates the cab fare back to her apartment and winces.

He must notice, because he gently places his hand on top of hers. "Everything alright, love?" he asks, genuine concern written on his face.

Emma takes a sip out of the champagne flute in her left hand before answering. "Everything's fine," she says, smiling reassuringly at him.

"Not having second thoughts?" he implores. Emma is taken aback for a moment by his apparent concern—she has just agreed to spending the night with a man she just met. And a casual hookup has never seemed so unsure about her intentions before (which may be a sign that she's been hooking up with the wrong guys but hey, she can take care of herself).

The town car turns a corner, and she catches sight of the moonlight reflecting off the waves out her window. A smile slowly spreads across her face and she turns to shake her head at him. His eyes flicker to her smiling lips and that's all the encouragement she needs; Emma leans forward and presses her mouth against his. The kiss is soft, fairly chaste (since they are still in the presence of a driver). As she pulls away—rosy-cheeked and smiling from the alcohol and him—his thumb traces along the apple of her cheek. The gentle gesture doesn't seem to match his eyes, however, which are looking at her with something resembling hunger. She smirks knowingly in anticipation. She's relieved; Emma may not be so comfortable with the soft, thoughtful, 'get to know you' kind of thing, but she definitely knows how to handle lust.

After only another minute, they pull in front of the house. Killian hands the driver his credit card, wishes him a good night, and then practically drags Emma out of the backseat and towards the door. She chuckles under her breath at his enthusiasm as he hastily twists his key in the lock, ushers them inside, and shuts the door behind him. He takes a large breath before turning around to face her, dark eyes betraying his composed demeanor. "Could I offer you something to drink?"

Emma smiles to herself at his apparently forced restraint. (Not that she really blames him. She is also really trying hard not to tackle the hot British sailor to the ground and have him right there.) "Sure. Surprise me."

Killian places a hand on the small of her back and guides her towards an open room with comfortable-looking leather sofas and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the water, urging her to take a look while he prepares their drinks. Emma stares out at the small waves breaking close to the shore. "This place is beautiful. I didn't know there was anything quite like this near New York."

He sidles up next to her and hands her a small glass of amber colored liquor with two ice cubes. "Thank you. I did my research. And kept my eyes on foreclosures," he says conspiratorially.

Emma takes a drink from the glass, savoring the way the rum warms her throat and chest. "Smart. You should make a television show or something."

"Ah, but where would be the fun in that? It does not do to reveal all a man's secrets," his voice lowers to a whisper and Emma can feel his warm breath against her ear. She doesn't bother to hide the shiver that travels down her spine at the proximity. Instead, she sets her glass down on the end table next to where she's standing, turns to face him, grasps the lapels of his suit jacket, and pulls his mouth down to hers.

The kiss in the town car did nothing to prepare Emma for this one. Killian responds by pressing his mouth firmly against hers, his hands slinking down to grasp at her waist through the chiffon of her dress. Emma threads her fingers through his hair and pulls just hard enough to make him gasp against her mouth. Taking advantage of the opening, she deepens the kiss, slipping her tongue inside his mouth. His hands grasp at the material of her dress, pulling it up around her thighs so he can pick her up. She cooperates, crossing her ankles behind his back and moving her mouth down his jawline as he navigates them to the couch.

Killian groans at the pressure of Emma landing in his lap as he sits them down. She pulls back momentarily and grins wickedly before shoving his suit jacket off his shoulders. Her hands dart between them to get to work undoing the small buttons lined down the center of his shirt (though it's barely more than halfway buttoned—the amount of chest he's exposing is damn near obscene). He hums in approval as he begins pressing open mouthed kisses against her exposed neck and shoulder, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of her dress. As Killian ever so slowly works the zipper down, Emma hastily pulls his now fully unbuttoned shirt down his arms where it pools behind him on top of his jacket. She takes a moment to ogle his toned chest lightly covered with hair.

"Enjoying the view, love?" he asks, doing something lascivious with his tongue. A shiver goes down her spine at his intense gaze, so she's pretty sure her answering shrug isn't as believably nonchalant as she'd hoped. He answers by pulling the straps of her dress off her shoulders just a little too slowly, and she helps him speed things up by impatiently tugging the thin straps down her arms herself. His eyes travel over her now exposed torso in appreciation before leaning forward to capture her lips in his once again.

"For the record," he murmurs low against her lips as his hands slowly trace down her back, "I'm enjoying the view as well."

Emma stands up, shimmying the rest of the way out of her dress until she's standing before him in nothing but her strapless bra and thong (thank God she'd worn some decent lingerie tonight instead of some shapewear or something equally embarrassing). She flushes slightly under his lust-filled gaze, but quirks an eyebrow at him, challenging him to even the playing field. Instead of moving to work at his belt, he stands up and kisses her hungrily. "As much as I don't want to put a stop to this for a moment," he whispers huskily in her ear, "it may be a good idea to move this upstairs."

Emma nods in agreement, but doesn't stop herself from pouting at the interruption. The right side of his lips curve up in a smirk before he leans in to nip at her jutted out lower lip and soothes it with a soft kiss. He grabs her hand and guides her through his house and up the stairs, half-heartedly pointing out different rooms like he is giving her a proper tour instead of counting down the moments until there's no clothing between them.

She stills as she enters the master suite, taking in the moonlit surroundings. His bedroom is larger than her living room and kitchen combined, complete with a fireplace, a large king sized bed, an oversized chaise, and several windows and a balcony overlooking the ocean. She nearly starts when Killian sweeps her hair over one of her shoulders and slowly kisses the side of her neck, just beneath her ear. She shivers and turns to face him, wasting no time before kissing him hard.

He picks her up, walks the few paces to the bed, and drops her, causing Emma to giggle. His answering smile looks almost adoring—an observation Emma quickly dismisses because she'll never see this guy again after tonight. When Killian joins her on the bed, his knees on either side of her hips, she grabs his shoulders and pulls him down so his lips meet hers.

His mouth moves with hers slowly but purposefully, building a slow burn deep in her stomach. Emma reaches for his belt buckle, intent on getting his pants off as soon as possible. He chuckles against her mouth as if sensing her urgency (which he probably does; she's not exactly trying to be subtle). Once Emma has unbuckled and unzipped his pants he stands briefly to discard them before resuming his position above her.

Killian's right hand slides slowly up her waist and lets his thumb trace the curve of her breast as his mouth trails down her neck. She exhales low in appreciation when his teeth begin to pull down the cup of her bra, the scruff of his beard scratching against her skin. Emma finds her back arching to assist him and in one deft move, he unhooks her bra and throws it behind him. In the moonlight, she can see the way his eyes dilate as he hungrily takes her in.

"Beautiful," he whispers, cupping one breast in his hand and leaning down to latch his mouth to the other. She inhales sharply when his teeth bite down on her nipple, only to be replaced by his tongue soothing circles around it. Her eyes flutter shut and her hands tangle in his hair and not, being able to simply lie there, her hips buck up against him, desperately seeking out some pressure. If Killian notices her body's apparent desperation for more, he ignores it; keeping his focus above her waist as his mouth leaves a trail of hot kisses to her other peak.

Deciding she's waited plenty long, Emma pushes him over onto his back and grins wickedly at his surprised expression before pressing her mouth (and hips) down against his. He groans into the kiss as she grinds against him through the thin layers of his boxer briefs and her panties. Killian's hand wraps around the ends of her hair and tugs, causing Emma's head to fall back. He takes the opportunity to run his teeth along her neck, nipping at the exposed skin and circling his tongue in the sensitive spot above her pulse point. Thoroughly dizzied, Emma barely notices he is flipping her over until her back lands against the bed and his fingers hook in the sides of her waistband. His lips work their way down her chest in feather light kisses that make goosebumps arise on her skin, but they stop at her bellybutton.

She opens her eyes to find him looking questioningly at her. "Is this alright?" he asks, his voice barely above a husky whisper. She slowly licks her lips, taking in the lust written all over his face and nods. He grins devilishly, slowly pulling the nude-colored lace down her thighs and over her calves, his eyes locked with hers the whole while. When she's (finally) completely naked before him, he takes a moment to appreciatively glance up and down her body.

"Like what you see?" she murmurs playfully, trying to ease the feeling of being so utterly exposed.

He smiles as his eyes lock with hers. "Absolutely," he says roughly.

Emma doesn't get a chance to respond, because suddenly his mouth is right there, pressing hot kisses up her inner thigh as she fists the bedspread below her in anticipation. His hand braces her other thigh, holding it down as his teeth take the skin of her hip between them.

"Killian," she whines as he kisses her everywhere except where she's aching for him. Apparently needing no more encouragement, his thumb drags against her center, sliding up to her clit.

He hums in appreciation. "It seems your body is positively ready for me, Emma. So sorry to keep you waiting."

His mouth reclaims the spot his thumb just vacated, tongue darting out to glide against her. One of his arms moves to pin her hips down to the bed as they press up against him of their own accord. Emma gasps his other arm slinks down to join his mouth and pushes two fingers into her. He works them slowly in and out of her, curling them just so, hitting the spot that makes her toes curl as his tongue circles roughly around her clit and his beard scratches roughly against the inside of her thighs. His pace quickens as her legs begin to twitch and her muscles clench.

Emma cries out some noise that is a combination of a moan and his name as she climaxes, her back arching up from the bedding beneath her. He rides out her waves of pleasure, slowing the movement of his fingers as she comes down from her high. Emma sighs and sinks into the mattress, embarrassingly spent before he's even had the time to take off his underwear.

Killian chuckles darkly as he presses a kiss against her inner thigh and climbs up to join her near the head of the bed. "I'll let you rest for a minute, but I'm nowhere near done with you, love."

She hums in satisfaction as his hand skims against her hips, up her sides, and to her breasts almost absentmindedly. As her breathing slows a bit, Emma opens her eyes to find him looking at her in unmasked lust. She wraps her hand around the back of his neck and pulls his mouth to hers once more.

Emma pushes him over, straddling his cotton-clad hips and grinding against his hardening arousal as her mouth moves hungrily with his. One of Killian's hands holds her head to his before grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling back. Emma gasps as he nips and sucks at her neck, no doubt leaving a mark.

Unwilling to wait any longer, she slips her hand beneath his waistband and palms his silky length, feeling it twitch against her. "Emma," he groans, encouraging her to continue. She pulls back, quickly ridding him of the last of his clothing before working up and down his shaft with one hand. Seeing a bead of liquid gathering at the tip, she leans down and swirls her tongue over the head. She glances up and smiles at the utterly wrecked expression on his face before sucking him into her mouth.

Her head bobs up and down slowly for a bit, not wanting to bring him to his own climax too quickly. His hand grabs her shoulder and pulls her up towards him. "As much as I really don't want you to stop," he says, peppering hot kisses across her collarbone as his hands reach around to grab her ass. "I'd much rather finish inside of you, love."

She shivers as his breath ghosts across her skin and pulls back to look at him questioningly. "Condom?"

He nods to the table beside his bed. "Top drawer."

Emma tears open one of the foil packets before quickly and carefully rolling the condom over his length. She looks at him in mock frustration as he flips her onto her back and effectively pins her down. Her annoyance dissolves easily as Killian's hips press forward and his length rubs against where she's aching for him once more.

"Please," she whispers, head pressed back into the pillows.

"As you wish." He slides into her slowly, causing them both to moan, before setting a slow, shallow rhythm.

"Killian," she says in a serious tone. "You really, really, do not need to hold back right now. Please, just move."

A devilish smirk spreads across his face as he dives down to devour her mouth hungrily, the movement pushing him into her farther. Emma groans against his mouth in appreciation as he slides roughly in and out of her. She hooks her ankles behind his back, using the leverage to tip her hips so each thrust hits her just right. She feels Killian's groan echo across her ribs and Emma sinks her teeth in his shoulder to prevent herself from crying out (she's never been comfortable being particularly loud in bed).

Changing pace, she flips them over before sinking down on him, smirking at his look of surprise. Emma closes her eyes as she rises and falls on top of him, surrendering to the feeling of him inside her. Killian moans beneath her and his hands come up to grip tightly at her waist. His hands are holding her so firmly he'll likely leave bruises tomorrow, but she's way beyond the point of caring. He guides her movements, quickening the pace and rolling his hips up against her in a way that connects with that spot deep inside her. "Fuck," she hisses at the change in angle. Emma notices he seems to be spurred on by her verbal appreciation, hands and hips moving more determinedly.

She can feel herself climbing again, their pace in time with her ragged breaths. Killian lets go of her hips momentarily to sit up, immediately tugging her head back by her hair and latching his mouth on to her neck. Their movements become erratic and she can feel him tensing beneath her. Emma drags her nails down his back and smiles darkly at his answering low groan which mixes with her own. Killian's hand that is not tangled in the hair at the base of her neck skims across her overly sensitive skin. He grips her breast, running his thumb across it, before his hand lowers to the place where her body meets his.

"I'm close," she whispers between gritted teeth as his thumb circles at her clit.

He pulls back momentarily and Emma sees the dark gleam in his eye. "Good," he answers simply, voice thick with lust and exertion. He pulls her head to his, slipping his tongue in her mouth in the middle of a moan. (How he can kiss like that when their hips are still slamming together frantically is beyond her, frankly) Emma moans loudly as she climaxes again, her eyes fluttering closed as she rides out the waves of pleasure. When she stills, Killian flips them over, pulling her leg over his shoulder as he thrusts into her a few more times before groaning through his own release. He deftly rolls them onto his back so he's not suffocating her. Emma hums, fully sated, her ear pressed to the middle of his sweat-slicked chest as their breathing evens out.

After a couple of minutes, Emma rolls over and wraps herself in Killian's bedding sighing into the fluffy warmth of his down comforter as he excuses himself to clean up. When he returns, he slides in next to her and chuckles at her burrito-like state. "Tired, are we?" he asks, his tone light with amusement, as he presses a kiss to her forehead.

Emma moves to sit up, suddenly remembering where she is. "Sorry, I'll go now," she mumbles, slipping out of the bed clad only in the throw blanket that laid at the end of his bed and looking around for her clothes.

Killian's hand wraps around her wrist and he gently tugs her back towards him. "I wasn't insinuating that you should go. Stay? Please?" His voice is soft and his eyes are hopeful and it makes her heart lurch and she should not be feeling this after knowing him for a few hours, God.

"I'll make it worth your while," he promises, running his tongue against his lips and she's done for. She climbs back into his bed reluctantly and his answering smile is infectious.

"Fine," she acquiesces, "but only because this bed is heavenly."

"With a woman as beautiful as yourself in it? I wholeheartedly agree," he chuckles, pulling her body to his so their limbs are tangled. "'Night," he whispers against her ear.

"Good night." Emma tries not to think about how she's miraculously not freaking out, even though it's the first time she has purposefully spent the night at a one night stand's house ever. She pushes the thought from her mind and promptly falls asleep, exhausted thanks to the gorgeous man who is currently wrapped around her.