"How about this?" Emma wonders, holding up the blue shirt next to the black vest in her other hand. She’s standing in nothing but her underwear, damp hair spilling down her back.
Killian glances over, equally damp hair falling over his brow. He makes quite a picture, her pirate, with his dark jeans riding low on his hips and his chest bare for her greedy eyes (oh boy does he make a picture). She tries to keep her gaze resolutely on his face because damn it, they’re already running late since he insisted on sharing her shower — we’re conserving water, Swan (pffft, ‘conserving water’ her ass, her skin is still humming for God’s sake).
He eyes the garments, lips pursed and brow furrowed in thought. He scrunches his nose at her then shakes his head. “Too many impeding layers for after.”
She rolls her eyes and sets the vest back into place in her — their — closet, offering the shirt on its own for him. “A little presumptuous of you, don’t you think?”
He grins at her then, wide and toothy, eyes dancing mischievously, and damn it, her stomach flips of its own accord because he’s so stupidly handsome, and fine, it’s not presumptuous at all (they probably won’t even make it to the bed, if she’s going to be honest, and she sighs — hello floor, my old friend).
He doesn’t say anything, simply pulls out a red dress and wiggles his eyebrows at her. “This one has a ‘zipper,’” he announces (and she wonders how the word can sound so salacious on his tongue).
His choice of her dress for the evening is also skin tight and he’ll probably have to peel it off of her later. She takes it from him and throws both it and his shirt over her shoulder, then reaches out to grasp him by his necklace and tug him forward until their bodies bump. His arms automatically circle around her waist, fingers pressing into skin, and she sighs again because she can actually feel her body coming alive and answering the unspoken call from his.
They’d been at this for almost an hour with no sign of actually committing to their date outfits and she’s fairly certain they’re not going to make their dinner reservations at this point, so…
"We could just stay home, order take-out, and be naked," she tells him.
She feels his body jerk as his eyes hold hers steadily, and then suddenly he’s stooping low to hoist her over his shoulder. She squeals while he carts her out towards her — their — bed, laughing when he deposits her with a bounce and begins to crawl over her, mouth pressing kisses over her quickly warming flesh.
"I like the way you think, love."
She feels his smile against her heart before his mouth crushes against hers.