Glee 1. Touch

Change comes in many forms.

There are events which change us for the better, as we recognise those who are beside us as we win or lose, fall or grow stronger.

Then there are those obstacles we strive to overcome to gain back that sense of familiarity; a love which we treasure.

And finally, one fine day comes along filled with emotions of triumph and heartache and we want to reach out and hold onto what is familiar; what is safe.

Change was difficult for me to deal with. I avoided change as much as I could, especially when it came to love. I knew what I wanted; security. But how would what I want in life matter when what I needed had powers so great they could make me forget my own name?

Need. It came in the form of one man. Will Schuester.

'Here, I got you an apple juice', Will spoke quietly as he passed the juice bottle. I hadn't even heard him return from the lobby, where he had gone to call Mercedes to update her on the progress of Kurt's coma-ridden father.

'Thank you, Will. You shouldn't have worried about me. I'm fine.' I sat up straighter than I already was in the vinyl covered chair and accepted the refreshment, which he handed me with a small smile.

'Yeah? You looked like you were having trouble keeping your eyes open before I left.' He took a seat next to me, separated by an armrest.

'It is late.' I nodded toward the clock hanging on the opposite wall, reading 12:57.

'You should go home, Em. I can stay here in case Kurt leaves his dad's room. I just want to be here for him.'

'You're always there for the kids, Will. Let me stay. '

'Let's both stay,' he grinned.

'Alright,' I blushed, averting my gaze from his penetratingly lustful gaze, as I placed my apple juice on the seat next to me.

We sat in silence for a few seconds before Will spoke.

'Remember last year when Sarah Booker's Mom was in here?'

'Yeah, that was my first day.'

'I know. Lucky you, right?' Will chuckled lightly and I groaned at the memory.

'I was glad she was in your Spanish class at the time and you came with us, because I could not stop the girl from screaming,' I added to the conversation.

'And her Mom was only giving birth.' I giggled at his words as he let a foolish grin spread across his face.

The grin slowly disappeared as I sat up taller in my seat, attempting to avoid his flirty antics and he sensed this.

'I'm glad you got the call today though.' His sincere whisper caught me by surprise and my eyes were drawn to his. 'I'm glad you're here with me. I don't know how to handle situations like these very well.'

Slowly, his hand reached out towards my own hand in my lap, his beautiful, brown eyes drawn to my long fingers. Fingertips lightly traced the back of my hand, and my own eyelids closed as I was overwhelmed once again with the familiar intensity of being touched by Will. His long, gentle fingers intertwined with my own and I opened my eyes to see his thumb brushing the back of my hand softly.

'Will.' The intended tone was supposed to be cautious and defiant. Instead, his name escaped my lips in a whimper, as we both gazed at our joined hands.

'Shhh, Em.'

I glanced around at the elderly woman and her middle- aged daughter across the room.

'Not now, Will.' I drew in a shaky breath as my gaze was drawn to his face.

'Please, just let me hold you.' I wanted to give in; I wanted so badly to be held by him. I wanted more than this. His thumb drew circles on my hand. 'Your skin is so soft.'

My eyes closed slowly as emotions overwhelmed me. It was hard to think, as the man I refused to admit to love showed his affection so publicly.

He buried his face in my neck as he breathed in my scent. He heard him place kisses in my hair and suddenly his lips brushed my neck gently, placing light kisses below my ear.

I turned my head sensually and whispered rejection softly in his ear, 'Not here.'

'Come with me.' His voice was husky and promising and so, like all of the other times in my life, I followed him.

We walked down the hallway, hand in hand, and we approached a door which had a small plaque on it reading 'Quiet Room 2'.

Will turned the knob and ushered me inside, removing his hand from mine and placing it on the small of my back. I led the way into the small, dimly lit room, barely the size of my office, with pale blue walls and a pair of couches against the walls.

I didn't know what to expect from our little escape from the waiting room. As I tried desperately to get my breathing under control, I heard Will close the door softly and the lock turn.

I felt him come up behind me and his fingertips sensually brushed my flaming, red hair from the side of my neck, granting him access to place a single kiss against the spot between where shoulder and neck joined.

I whimpered again.

I was frozen to the spot. I couldn't move to tell him that this was too much for me; that I wasn't ready to get messy; that I felt like I was cheating on Carl.

And suddenly, I didn't have to.

His arms wrapped around my waist from behind and he buried his head in the back of my neck, his forehead lowering to rest on my shoulder. Silence consumed us, the tension in the air threatening to burst at any moment. And then, so help me God, he lifted his lips to whisper in my ear.

'I just want to hold you.' His warm breath against my freckled skin sent every nerve ending in my body on fire and all thoughts of boyfriends and ex-wives and coma-ridden parents vanished from my mind.

"I just want to touch you.' He groaned, and I felt an emotion that I didn't understand consume me.

'I want you to want me to touch you.' The feeling continued to grow as he spoke a monologue.

'I do,' I interrupted, unable to help myself.

'I think of you every minute of the day, Emma. I can't stop thinking about you. You drive me crazy. I don't want anyone to touch you but me. You get me so worked up, I can hardly function. I imagine what it would be like to look into your eyes and know that you want me as much as I want you.'

'You know I do, Will. But I can't. I just can't.'

He raised his body and I buried my face in his neck.

'Can we just stay like this then, just for a little while?' he asked pleadingly.

'Yes', I breathed shakily, as he turned me around to face him.

And we stood there like that for a while, his arms wrapped around me, holding me to his strong, firm body. If he wanted to unzip my dress and hold me to him naked, I would have let him. I was so safe in his arms; I was wanted.

It could easily have been a year ago, standing there in this situation, with Will married and I desperately in love with the man I had placed on that heaven-high pedestal. But we were so different; developed as individuals; stronger. And now he needed love more than I; he needed to be wanted. I felt empathy for him, as I realised if my conscience let me a year ago, this could have been me, desperate for touch, and not the other way around. Touch plagued our thoughts.

And that's what we did; we touched each other. His hands roamed over my back, down my spine along with the thousands of nerves that were ablaze in my body. His strong hands traced the curve of my lower back and over my behind and I only pressed myself further into his touch. It felt wrong, and yet so right.

It was the most erotic thing I had ever done, and I was too overcome with the mutual feeling of intimacy that I felt empowered to let him touch me wherever he wanted.

And I did the same thing, too.

Breathing heavily, my nimble fingers discovered his well built torso over his sweater, the hardness of his thighs, as his hands travelled up my back and over my shoulders to venture down my arms.

His fingertips stoped at my elbow and travelled across my stomach inching up ever so slowly until his hands reached the underwire of my bra, which he could feel through my dress. Over clothes; it was always over clothes.

I pulled back slightly as our eyes locked. I expected to see that look of desire that I knew so well, but instead I was met with a tearful gaze. I nodded, blushing, and his large, soft hands moved slowly to cup the fullness of my breasts. As he buried his face in my neck again, I felt his tears flow freely into my hair and onto the flushed skin of my neck.

We were in love. We were so in love.

His hands massaged my breasts through the fabric and I felt arousal and guilt consume me at the same time, as his own arousal pressed into my stomach.

'God, Emma', he growled as his hands lowered to my hips, as he knelt before me. He rested his ear against my navel, and I ran my bony fingers shakily through his curls, as he turned his head to kiss my stomach.

'I want to make love to you, Emma.' I let out a shaky breath as he spoke in earnest. I realised the hurt I had put him through, though I reminded myself of my own pain after his trysts with other women.

'One day,' I whispered softly.

I gained no response, but for a moan against my lower regions, which now tingled with arousal and desire.

'I'm so sorry, Will. But I can't deal with being hurt at the moment', I started. 'You're still a mess and I can't bear to imagine what would happen if it didn't work out between us. I'm just so lonely.' He stopped his assault of kisses and stilled, looking up at me.

'So am I, Emma. I understand.' He slowly stood, cupping my face with his soft, magical hands.

'One day, I promise,' I whispered, ducking my head to kiss his palm.

'So do I.'


	2. Routine

Living the life that I was, day after day, became a routine after a number of years. Teachers are recognised as individuals who are required to live by routine, in order to educate youth who are stranger to life's disorder. Planning classes, curriculum, absentees and chapters of foreign language literature; my life was a tale and each chapter retold the previous. My unwritten autobiography was a game of picking the minuscule differences from the repeated story. And being married to the woman I was, routine was multiplied by dog years.

My counsellor, my best friend, Emma, was the epitome of routine to those around her, who would recognise her existence as a tiresome task of their peripheral vision. Routine kept her grounded and allowed for a calmness to take over her fragile body; a calmness that would allow her beauty to radiate through her eyes as she fell in love with an image that would place me on a pedestal until reality came to be her rightful companion, months later.

Ironically, to me, Emma was the epitome of change. I could have been having the most horrendous day of the year, and in would walk Emma in her vibrant, perfectly mismatched, absurd clothing, and change the pitiful direction of my disastrous day.

Though, I realised she was more than simply a breath of fresh air. Understanding that Emma possessed the ability to take someone's breath away was not a part of my knowledge. To understand this radiant quality would require of me the capacity to breathe when she entered the room.

And suddenly, change took place.

Dwelling on the annoyance and destruction of routine was forgotten, as time made it's presence known, and emotion buried both of us in a pit of desire and lust.

Hours, days and weeks passed, as slow, tension-filled months drew from both of us the care we had for each other, and made it known through our eyes.

Emma sat quietly at her desk late one evening, an hour after SAT Prep, head bowed, back straight, as she studied a student report.

A knock on her door interrupts her concentration, as his head peaks between the door and the frame, a ridiculous, crooked, schoolboy grin plastered on his face.

'Emma.'

'Will, Hi.'

'You're here late. SAT Prep?'

'Yeah, just finishing reading some reports I set for homework last week. The kids are really putting in more effort this semester. Handing in reports, I mean. I like it when they acknowledge when you ask for their effort. You know, gives you a sense of appreciation.'

He nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on her.

'It's nice to feel appreciated every once in a while,' he grins again and reminds her of how inappropriate her feelings for her best friend are.

'Certainly.' Her gaze lowers from his in an attempt to hide the blush from her tired face.

'Anyway, I just wanted to finish marking these. I don't like to leave them too long. I hate getting into that routine.'

'I know you do.'

An awkward silence fills the room and she searches for something, anything, to say to make the pain disappear.

And then he speaks, saving them from themselves. 'But you know change can sometimes be a good thing.' Emma understands what he is referring to. He wants things to be different between them, just as much as she does.

'I guess I just feel safer knowing what is done and what has to be done', she replies casually, her confidence uplifted.

He was going to tell her that he could make her feel safe never knowing and yet, knowing everything. He wanted to tell her that they could date without knowing when they would get engaged; that they could get married and never know what time of the night she would wake him to make to love to her, everynight. He wanted to tell her that he could hold her right now, safe in his arms, not knowing if another individual would enter the school and discover the emotional tryst that had been present for the last few weeks, coming to life.

Instead, he simply looked at her and waited for her to understand the fire burning in his eyes set a light by his urgent need to be close to her in every possible way.

'Will."

'Mmm?' A strangled noise escaped his lips in question.

'Please don't look at me like that.' Her eyes were downcast and filled with a mixture of lust and guilt.

'How am I looking at you, Em?'

'Like you want me.' A blush crept over her cheeks as she stood and moved to push her chair in, avoiding the seriousness of the conversation as she packed her things, obviously finished with the awkward tension for the night and making a move to run away from all of her problems; her only problem.

'You want me to look at you that way.'

Her eyes shot up in masked anger and shock, quickly transforming to embarrassment.

She swallowed.

'No, I don't.'

'You do.'

Tears pooled in her eyes as she poorly whispered a declaration of defence, 'No.'

'Yes, you do. You smile at me and you want me. You touch me and you want me to let you touch me. All you have to do is bite your lower lip and gaze up at me and all I can think is, God, she may be shy and not as confident as other women, but Emma Pillsbury has this way about her that just makes me want to-'

'Stop!' Her voice demands in a tone that delivers the understanding to him that she has never been more petrified in her life. And he doesn't want that for her. He has never wanted that for her.

'Please leave, Will. Oh, God.' She places her head in her hands and her body shakes. He considers moving to hold her, but that would be too much.

He doesn't want to make matters worse. He knows he said too much; asked too much of her. She's uncomfortable and crying into her hands, so he leaves

He goes to his office.

He knew it was coming before she even entered the room. The sound of her perfect heels made known she was in a fit of rage as she swung her body into his office, face flushed, within five minutes of their last encounter.

'I have never touched you! How dare you accuse me of that? I have never in my life touched you!

'Yes you have. You rubbed your thumb on my wrist at lunchtime when you moved to get your tea.'

'That hardly counts, Will.'

'Hardly counts? Hardly? Is that because you don't get to touch me in the way you want?' She blushed profusely at his words an confronting tone and turned to leave as quickly as she entered. She stopped in her tracks as he grabbed her by the wrist and turned her body to face his, their breaths mingling.

'I see you watching me sometimes, Emma. I can imagine what is going on in that perfect mind of yours. You watch me.'

'You're my friend, of course I look at you.' Her eyes are downcast and he tilts her chin up with his index finger.

'No, you watch me,' he insists, knowledgably. You watch me and imagine what it would be like to touch me, for us to touch each other.' His eyes bore into hers as she looks ashamed. 'It's okay to want to touch people, Emma.'

They are quiet for a time. Seconds, minutes, neither know.

'Do you want to touch me, Will?' She breathes out slowly in question, her eyes locked onto his, their innocence betraying the adultery of the inquiry.

'Emma', he struggles for words. 'I...I can't answer that question. I'm married.'

'So, it makes it alright for you to ask me that then, does it?' Her tone is harsher than she intends, but she realises this needs to be said.

He doesn't reply. He looks into her eyes and pleads with her to not ask him that question, his grip on her forearm tightening.

So, she doesn't. That would be stepping over the line. They had boundaries and she wouldn't be the one to break them. Confronting their desire for one another through words would only make it more real.

Her gaze shifts to the side and his head lowers to rest in the junction between her neck and shoulder. She's surprised and shocked. This s the most intimate moment of her life and suddenly she is too afraid to move. She has no experience and now he has removed from her brain all memory of why she came here in the first place.

Then she feels his lips on her neck, placing little kisses there and sucking gently. Suddenly, she isn't afraid anymore, and every dirty, passion-filled thought she paints each night when she imagines it is his fingers bringing her to release, surfaces.

She moans and his hand moves from its grasp on her arm to snake around her waist, bringing her closer to him, their eyes making contact again.

'Oh, Will.' His name escapes her lips in a whisper so soft she doesn't think he actually hears her.

'What do you want me to do to you Emma? Where do you want me to touch you?' A noise between a moan and a whimper escapes between her lips and he only presses himself closer, their eyes remaining locked.

'Everywhere.'

His hand travels down to grasp her thigh lightly and brings it up to his hip. She wraps it around and he places his strong hands on her behind for her to wrap the other leg around his torso. With her legs strongly wrapped around his body, eyes never breaking contact, he pushes her against the wall and begins to rock into her, his best friend.

'Oh, baby,' he groans in pleasure and she pulls away abruptly at the pet name she heard him call his wife at the Acafellas show, when she was sitting alone at the bar as she watched the picture-perfect couple order drinks.

Their eyes lock for a moment and he freezes in question, unaware, as his hand leaves her perfectly sculpted face. Not once has he kissed her thin, pink lips and he wants to change that as she pouts, her eyes wide as she slides down the wall between him, making a move to leave, the reality of the situation sinking in. She straightens her clothing and swallows, as their eyes never loose contact.

He doesn't act to stop her, knowing that although he is more aroused than he has ever been in his life, and all they did was touch, his heart screams for her to trust him.

Before she completely leaves the room, she turns in the door way and stands straight and prim.

'When I went to sleep last night, I wanted you to want to make love to me,' she speaks honestly and confidently.

He swallows and looks at her in question.

'But now I realise that I want to be the only one you make love to.'

'I want that too, Emma.'

She smiles sadly and leaves quietly, as he listens to the steps she takes down the hallway of the institute of education where he has just learnt a great deal about himself and his best friend.

And he realises that if change occurs, it needs to happen completely. If not, routine is always the safest option.


	3. Questioning

Hi everyone! I'm so glad you are enjoying this story. Just to let you know, this chapter is a continuation of the first chapter and the second chapter was a prequel to the first. I will be referring back to the events in the second chapter later on in the story, in later chapters.

It was months after the adulterous discussion at school, and hours after the rendezvous in the hospital, that Emma finally allowed herself the time to acknowledge every thought she had fought to keep at bay.

After Emma's whispered promise, to one day finally allow him a piece of her heart and life, they had removed themselves from each other's grasp, the tension in the air brewing as an uncomfortable silence had settled. Eventually, one of them had spoken up and somehow they had spent the night in that tiny 'Quiet Room', where they had talked until dawn about everything they had lost and everything they wanted to gain, all the while never stepping over any boundaries or opening painful wounds.

They had each slept on one of the couches in the room for a few hours in the early morning, waiting for news on Kurt's father. No news came, and by 8am the next morning, they both decided to make their way to their respective homes to catch up on some much needed sleep.

At 6pm that evening, a knock on the door of Emma's condo drew her from the comfort of her living room and to her front door, a cold breeze blowing through her warm home as she opens the door to find Will on her threshold, so close to her body she is certain he had been peering through her peephole before she had even moved from the couch..

She quizzes him with a sceptical gaze, her eyes darting everywhere but his face, clearly uncomfortable as she is unaware of his motives for being outside her condo in the freezing cold night air.

'There are some things we need to talk about. And I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable about them. We need to get all of this-'he gestured silently between them, '-out in the open.'

She nods and gestures for him to follow her into the living room. She hears him lock the door and as she turns around from where she is standing at the fireplace to face him in the dimly lit room.

'Before it all goes wrong.' He whispers from his spot in the centre of the room, his penetrating gaze filled with a mixture of lust and sorrow for what they both have lost and never gained.

Emma is overcome with guilt as she looks at him, her eyes clouding over with tears. 'It's already wrong, Will. It always has been.' Her voice is low, ashamed and loving.

'No, Emma. I don't-'

'It was wrong when you were married, and it's wrong now. My relationship with Carl isn't set in stone, but he stills cares about me. He cares about me, deeply...' Her last word fades out into the silence of the room, the faint glow of the fire lighting an unwanted mood and providing a soundtrack of nature as it burns in its cave.

She looks at the carpet, he looks at her.

'Emma.' He runs his hands through his hair, nervously. 'Emma, look at me.'

'I've been doing some thinking. I've been doing a lot of thinking, actually. I think I should go away for a little while. You know, clear my head.' Her eyes move to meet his and he begins to object, afraid to lose her for any duration of time.

'Emma, I...'

'My friend Serena is having a small get together at her cabin in Gatlinburg next week, just some old friends from college and their families.'

She picks at the beading on the waistband of her red cardigan and he realises that for the first time he has ever seen in his life, Emma Pillsbury is wearing pyjama pants. Suddenly, his intrusion into her home seems rude, and he wished he had never come.

'I think that's a good idea, Em,' he begins, trying to end the conversation, afraid that perhaps she is uncomfortable and the last thing he wants to do is push her away. 'And maybe when you get back, we can talk about everything that happened.'

'I want you to come with me.' He touches his fingers to a photo frame of a seven year old Emma, and his smile fades in shock as he turns to face her, a puzzled look painted upon his face.

'I don't want to pressure you into talking about something you aren't ready to.' She doesn't flail with her hands like he would expect the words to make her. Her voice is calm and certain, though her eyes betray her as her gaze is cast downwards.

In contrast, his eyes nearly shot out of his head at her words.

'I think you could also use some space. It really is lovely down there. And I know that not everything is perfect for you at the moment. We could spend some time together, talk over everything.'

This was the woman who had spent the previous evening in his arms, touching him all over and yet not enough. She had promised him her everything and he knew that if he worked hard enough and gave her enough trust and love, he would one day share the life with her that he always dreamed about. And now, here she was, her beautiful brown eyes pleading with him to not insult her and reject her invitation.

'What about Carl?' He knew that what she wanted and deserved more than anything was his repect, and he was not going to take this chance without knowing that she was one-hundred percent certain of what she was asking of him.

'He's my boyfriend, but you're my best friend, Will.' Her emphasis on the operative word was strong. 'And you need me at the moment, so I think you should come with me instead of Carl.'

'Are you going to tell Carl?'

'I think it's best if I don't. I don't want to give him the wrong impression.' She moves to stand before him and waits for his response to her decision.

'Of course.'

'So you'll come with me?' His mind conjures up numerous thoughts of just how far he would go with her and where, but he knew that if their relationship was ever going to work in the sense that he wanted it to, he needed to respect his place in her life. And right now, he knows where that place needs to be when she leaves for Gatlinburg.

He swallows the voice in the back of his head telling him to run and not look back, but her longing gaze defeats the white noise.

'Sure.'

'Good.' She clasps his right hand tightly between her dainty hands and brings the united limbs between their bodies, squeezing lightly in an effort to ease the tension and awkwardness after she had invited him to an interstate cabin retreat.

She smiles up at him. 'Tea or coffee?'

She drops their hands and makes her way to the kitchen, his gaze lingering on her perfect retreating form, like he would all of the following week.

What had he gotten himself into?


	4. Travels in time

Chapter 4

On Saturday, Emma and Will left Lima, Ohio, and drove all the way to Tennessee, in one day, in one car, with one radio.

They stopped three times, once at 9:30, for coffee, again at 1pm for lunch, and then at 5pm, when it started getting dark, for coffee again. Their last stop found Will sitting on the bonnet of his car holding a take away latte as Emma stood before him, dressed in a cream pea coat and a matching beanie, handling her own take away tea.

After spending the last 11 hours in each other's company, they had eventually realised that conversation, when forced, was overrated.

The first hour had consisted of small talk and uneasy glances, but when Emma had asked Will to pull over so that she could get her boots out of her suitcase in the back, things started to unwind.

The task of removing her shoes whilst standing in two inches of snow was not something that had crossed her mind when she had complained about how freezing her feet were in her Mary Janes, as she had rubbed her frozen feet in the front seat of Will's car. He had obliged her request and had been sending a reply text to his brother, when he had looked up to see what was taking her so long. He couldn't see her face as her back was pushed up against the back window for support, as she struggled to keep her balance. His smile widened as she turned around and reached up to pull the door down, catching his gaze in the revision mirror. He winked at her playfully and she laughed a genuine laugh that made him want to see her so relaxed for the rest of his life.

Now they found themselves in the parking lot of a gas station, him sitting on the bonnet and she trying not to get her boots too wet in the slight layer of snow that had accumulated on the pavement.

'Will?' she asked softly, her gaze fixed on the ice-coated ground. A blush was forming on her freckled cheeks, whether from the cold or the conversation she was about to introduce, the ghost of sexual tension that surrounded them was unsure.

'Mmm?' he replied, his eyes studying her face, as he took a sip of his warm beverage.

'Thank you for coming with me,' Emma started slowly, her stare meeting his. Her tone was so genuine and soft that it reminded him of the day he had handed her an appointment card for a therapist and how she had thanked him in that grateful tone, her eyes widening in appreciation. 'You didn't have to, and you did. I realise that you don't know these people, and it may be uncomfortable for you-'

He cut into the beginning of her apology in an attempt to assure her of his future happiness. 'It's okay, Emma. I have no problem meeting your friends. I'm sure that if they are good enough to be friends with you, that they are kind hearted people who will be easy to talk to.'

At his words, her gaze lowers to the rim of her tea lid, her bare finger tracing the circle back and forth as she nods her head, a reluctance to assure him he was right evident.

'Sure. There's actually something I want to talk to you about, Will. Their families are going to be there and everything and I thought maybe it would be easier to just come out and say that-'

'That we're together?' he cuts her off again, knowing how her mind worked and how nervous she was. Sometimes it was easier for them to simply help each other out as they shared conversation, as they often found themselves becoming lost in their troubles and then it would happen again; and uneasy tension would surround them and beg for their attention, which it would inevitably be granted with longing looks and accidental touches.

'Yeah, I did. And now I feel really stupid about it. I used to gush about you to them and sometimes sensationalise some tales.' She gets it all out really quickly, never looking into his eyes. 'And then we sort of broke-up, what never really began. Not that I'm blaming anyone for that, but I can't help but feel a little embarrassed about all the things in my life that haven't worked out.'

He sighed, not for himself but for how she feels, running his hand through his hair softly. 'Emma, you don't have to worry about what other people think all the time.'

'No, Will. You don't know what it's like.' She looks up at his with gentle tears forming in her eyes, though she regains her composure and they never fall. He knows that secretly, her tears of humiliation will never fall before him. They find a comfort in each other that disregards any form of judgement in existence. 'When we were in college I was so scared of anyone getting too close to me, and I never dated anyone seriously', she continues. 'And I was never the kind of girl to get involved in certain activities deemed normal in college. And now they are all married with kids and they have their whole lives planned. And for me to turn around and tell them that I had lost the only thing that registered as significant enough to talk about in conversation, I would have seemed ridiculous and crazy. I hope you don't see this as me using you, because it's the complete opposite of that.'

'I know.' He smiles. 'Emma, all I see this as is you being proud to have me in your life, which I am so grateful for, because I never thought you would give me a second chance.'

'But there is something I have to ask, Em. Did you tell them about Carl? That you're dating him? You have to recognise that relationship. You've been dating him for three months.'

'And according to what my friends know, I've been dating you for two years.'

They drove for the next 40 miles in silence, until he eventually spoke.

'You don't have to be embarrassed, Emma.'

She keeps her gaze fixed on the snow falling onto the windscreen, threatening to reach her through the barrier of glass and failing, much like the attempts of Will.

'It's okay' he continues softly, and waits for a response.

'I shouldn't have said that, Will.'

'Why?'

'Now you know. That I was pathetically pining over you before I even had reason to.' He body hasn't moved and he thinks that she has been rehearsing that line for a hell of a lot longer than the 40 miles they have just driven in silence.

'I don't know what to say, Em', he whispers sincerely.

'You don't have to say anything.' Her head shifts to look out of her own window, and he can see her eyes closing, knowing that she is truly tired of pretending to not expect so much from everybody in her life.

Silence overwhelms them both and he worries that if he doesn't admit the truth soon enough, he may be making one of the biggest mistakes of his life.

'I did give you reason. We both know that. We've been special to each other for a long time, Emma.'

They settled into simple conversation a few minutes later, thoughts forming in their minds and flowing into discussions of popular culture easily as the night darkened around their travels.

They arrived at their accommodation at 11pm at night. Will noticed that Emma had become quite nervous, and all he wanted to do was wrap her in his arms and hold her, drive them to a motel and tell her that she never had to be anything that she wasn't. Secretly, he was getting a kick out of what she had told him. In the eyes of her friends, they had been a couple for two whole years. _Two years_. SO much could happen in two years. So much _would_ happen. First dates, first kisses, second dates, second kisses, making love for the first time, and the second, and every night after that. And Will smiled to himself, one hand steering the car, as he thought that this would _definitely_ have been the case had he been in a relationship with Emma for two years. He wasn't ashamed of wanting to be with Emma, in any way that he could. His free hand reached across to squeeze her hand in a friendly gesture, silently conveying that they were here and he was ready to be who ever she needed him to be.

She squeezed his hand softly, her fingers entwining with his. He thought about how soft her fingers were, as she thought about how firm, yet gentle, his fingers felt in her grasp, and each of their own, very different fantasies played out in their imaginations for a moment, his desire tender and loving, hers uncharacteristically wild and perilous.

They had left the luggage in the car, intending on getting reacquainted and acquainted with the vacationers, though after five knocks and no answer, they discovered a note poking out from underneath the mat, telling them where the spare key was located if they couldn't get in. Emma expressed her thoughts on the idiocracy of leaving such a note for the citizens of the public who would inevitably break into houses like these, and Will told her to live a little, with a wink.

From the outside, it was your average two-storey, wooden cabin, but on the inside, it was furnished with soft couches draped with warm, colourful rugs, wooden tables and wooden chairs, the beams so high you could barely comprehend that there was in fact another level to the house. To Will's dismay and Emma's appreciation, the cliché of hunted, stuffed animals, did not line the walls in pride. It was lovely, and they both walked around in awe, admiring every surface and feature.

Will was the first to notice the note by the stove and he was quick to read it without Emma peering over his shoulder.

'_Emma and Wyatt, _

_We took the kids kayaking today on the lake, and we are spending the night in the shed/barn on the other side of the lake. It was a last minute thing, so we are sorry we couldn't be here for your first night. Make yourselves comfortable and help yourselves to anything you want. Your bedroom is the third on the left, upstairs. If you get cold, help yourselves to the linen closet. _

_See you tomorrow, _

_Julia. Xx'_

A wide grin spread across his face. He didn't care that the woman had spelt his name wrong, or not listened carefully enough to Emma for the past two years. There was only one line that registered in his head.

_Your bedroom is the third on the left, upstairs._

He had never been happier to be in love with a temporary liar.


	5. Desire

'Will.' Her voice was soft and calming, and he was relieved that she wasn't uncomfortable sharing a bed with him, which he had assumed she would be. She seemed like a different person to Will, and he wondered just how much of that was Carl's doing. Often he would question whether he really knew her like he thought he did, and he would be answered when their eyes would darken and she would give in to him like she had twice before.

He knew she was seeing a therapist because she had received a phone call about two thirds into their driving that day and she had spoken with a professionalism that guaranteed his suspicions were correct. That and the fact that he could hear both sides of the minute long conversation, a returned call to Emma in regard to rescheduling her appointment with _Dr Canley_, the therapist he had recommended to her. He had no idea what she talked to her therapist about in her sessions, but he noticed that something was working, because she was opening up more and more to him every day, starting friendly conversation and questioning him, rather than remaining disclosed and allowing the world to read her eyes and her thoughts without speaking them.

'Yes?' His tone matched hers, quiet and comforting, not wanting to challenge her, though conveying his interest in absolutely every word that left her perfectly sculpted, pink lips.

'What are you thinking?' She hadn't moved since she sought comfort under the covers of their bed and he knows without turning his head that she is gazing at the ceiling.

'I'm thinking that this room feels strange.' It does, but in a wonderful way. He doesn't tell her that, though. He doesn't know why and it's selfish, but he wants her to feel unsafe in her surroundings, just so she can find comfort in his arms, in this bed. The sheets feel soft as he rubs his bare toes against them slowly, sending a pleasurable, burning warmth throughout his lower half.

'This house feels strange.' He's glad she agrees, and then he realises that the sexual tension is what is causing the uncertainty to arise.

'It's the room, not the house, Em. It feels familiar.' He remembers a time when they stood at opposite ends of a hallway, staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, and that's what feels familiar. Lying there, they are both expecting something to happen, but neither knows how and Emma's mind won't stop reminding her why they came here- to talk. Isn't that what they are doing right now? Is it enough? Is that what they really need to overcome their trials and tribulations? Then she recalls her lie, and that she is the reason they are in this situation-the same bed- together. And when her mind finally stops recounting every detail, she realises that she doesn't care and for once, she won't over think everything she says and every move she makes. She is with Will, she is safe, and finding themselves in this situation isn't the cliché she originally thought it was when he showed her the note detailing their sleeping arrangements. This was what they both always wanted- to find themselves in bed together, giving each other everything they had and seeing pleasure reflected in the eyes of the other.

'How so?' He wants to know where to start, and by questioning the specifics of her insights that is the metaphor of the room, maybe they will find themselves on the track to discovering what they need.

'I don't know. It's cold, but in a good way. Refreshing...' The last word fades away into silence and his arms ache to hold her, to feel her tiny breasts pressed against his bare chest, their nipples rubbing deliciously as she moves above him, their bare chests moulded to form one body. He wants to cup her face in his hands, claiming her attention, and whisper every desire he dreams.

Silence. He turns over to face her, and she is looking to the ceiling for guidance, on her back, her fingers interlocked safely over her abdomen.

'Have you thought about Carl?' He quizzes calmly.

'Yes,' she casually replies. She has the right to. That is why they came here. To think about everything they have and everything they want and everything they can't have.

'What did you think?'

'I thought about everything he wants and everything I can't give him.'

'Emma, you can give him everything.' His tone is so honest and he places emphasis on every word, that it brings tears to her eyes. He sees the tears in the moonlight, her eyes glistening and she is overcome with emotion, tired and restless, contradicted by her motionless frame.

And then she turns her body to face him, and she props her face up on one on her hands, her elbow angled on her pillow.

'What if I can't?' She is sensitive, he knows, but he is too. It destroys him to think that she believes she isn't good enough.

'I don't know if I want to answer that.' He doesn't want to because he can't. He knows she can satisfy Carl in every way if she just lets herself go, but Will's heart is already breaking in two. 'Can I be honest with you?'

She nods, biting her bottom lip and all he can think about is sucking it between his own.

'Well honestly, I don't want him to have any part of you that I can't have, too. And right now, he is already sharing so much with you that I'm not. And that hurts.'

She looks down halfway through his admission and raises her eyes with a reply. 'He wants me Will, in so many ways, but I can't seem to imagine sharing a future with him. Not because I don't want to, but because I'm so scared.'

'Why do you think you are so scared?' he challenges.

'I don't know.' She knows. He knows she knows.

'I think you do,' he objects.

Silence again and they both look down, her picking at a loose thread in the quilt and he watching her delicate fingers.

'Did you always feel this way?' he prompts her, their eyes still lowered.

'No.'

'When did you start feeling this way?' he looks up for her answer, but her eyes remain fixed on the material and he watches her cheeks flush.

'After the quiet room.'

Quiet, silence, darkness overwhelms them like it did in the hospital and he remembers a time where they could flirt and he could leave the scene without guilt. Unknowingly to him, she would go home on a high, questioning his feelings for her. And one evening found them rocking into each other's hips in a classroom well after hours and suddenly that honoured tranquillity disappeared and became the sexual tension that surrounds them at this moment.

'Do you think about that?' he queries cautiously, his body lowering to rest, his back flat against the mattress and his head buried in the pillow.

'Of course I do. I feel guilty about it, Will.' Her answer is adamant and details slight frustration. She speaks as though the answer is so obvious.

'Me, too.' And a spell is broken. 'It was nice, though.' He is honest and quiet and his tone holds no emotion. His admission is simply a statement. She would have laughed had he not seemed so serious.

'Nice?' she prompts, furious beneath her facade of gentle inquiry, so very 'Emma'.

'Mhmm.' His reply devastates her and she wants to lean over and slap him, but instead her head falls against her own pillow softly, rolling her eyes in the darkness at the ceiling. She wonders what a photo from the ceiling would look like, and she thinks it would be horrible; their mirrored positions, separated, on their backs in the darkness, gazing at the ceiling, not wrapped naked in each other's arms in the large bed.

'Wow.' Emma wants him to know she hates what the sexual tension has become, how dismissive it is of their affections for each other, and her unnatural sarcastic tone conveys this to him clearly.

'What do you want me to call it, Emma?' He sits up in fury and she would be frightened if she didn't know how in love with her he was.

'I don't want you to call it anything, Will.' She rolls over and faces the wall on her side of the bed, silently demanding that the conversation be over until they are both out of the bed and she no longer feels the urge to feel him moving inside her.

They lay there for a while, and she thought he had fallen asleep, which honestly made her a little mad. Why should he get to sleep when a million thoughts were running through her head?

'Do you want me to describe it to you?' her eyes snap open, from when she had them closed in resentment. She wonders what he is talking about until he starts and her insides start to shake at the depth of his honestly.

He begins with a pleasured sigh. 'It felt like Heaven, Emma. I know you think you aren't sexy and you think you aren't passionate, but you were in my arms and I never wanted to let you go. It was so intimate and beautiful. You shouldn't feel guilty about it.'

'Why are you telling me this?' she questions the wall that claims her attention.

'I just want you to know that it wasn't just 'nice'.' She feels his finger tips softly touch her lower back and arousal flows down her spine and she takes in a breath as she feel his hesitant palm flatten against her back, resting there cautiously. The warmth that floods through her is indescribable as she feels the mattress wad underneath her when he turns to face her back.

'What was it then?' She rolls over to face him, eyes wide and filled with desire as his hand slips from its position and to her cotton covered hip.

'You want to know?' he isn't questioning her, when he breathes the words over her face hotly, because he knows the answer. She is aware of what he is doing, trying to get her all hot and bothered, and she wants it so bad.

She grips his hand in hers from its resting place on her hip, but he is quick to take control of their purposefully minor movements, grabbing her fragile wrist in his hand softly, before she can intertwine their fingers, and she suddenly has trouble concentrating on his words because for once, she can't read his eyes.

'There are no words for what it feels like to give in to you.' His fingertips start tracing their way up her arm and the pressure between her legs increases. She is so sensitive and she knows the reason why- no man has ever brought her to release, and she wants it to be Will more than she has ever wanted anything in her life.

'Oh, god.' Her accent is thick and he hardens beneath the covers.

'Do you like that?' he wants to see the woman that he has met on the edge of sorrow, on the cliff of desire and on the border of self-awareness, and she complies.

Her breathing is laboured and his fingertips are only tracing simple patterns on the inside of her forearm. 'Yes. Tell me more.' Occasionally, her face contorts in a way that makes him wonder what she looks like when her walls are clamping on her own fingers, because he knows no man has ever taken her to ecstasy, and that just makes him so much harder.

'I used to dream about what it was like to be that close to you.' She starts to squirm, barely.

'How close?' her panting has decreased and now she just looks relaxed and as though she is anticipating something that he doesn't know is going to happen.

He brings his leg next to hers, their calves touching, wanting to see that fire in her eyes again. He wants to make her pant and moan and squirm. He wants to make Emma Pillsbury wet.

His voice is low and husky and he moves to whisper, his stubble caressing her neck, 'Closer than this.'

She takes a risk. She feels horny and she can't help herself. She doesn't expect this, even of herself.

'Will?' she whimpers in arousal, but also in question.

'Yes, baby?' he lets the phrase slip, his breath warm on her face.

She is hesitant, but she gets it out quick, panting in his ear in anticipation. 'When we were...touching...in the quiet room, how aroused were you?'

He moves closer at her welcoming question, his face burying further into her neck, and presses his hips against her, and she can feel his erection.

'Oh Gosh!' She sits up against the headboard swiftly, almost knocking his face with her elbow and realises she has taken it too far.

Darkness surrounds them, though she can see his shadow as he quickly moves before her, kneeling in front of her as she brings her knees to her chest as if to protect herself from the man who loves her. Then he remembers who she is and how quickly he was willing to forget that fact.

'I'm sorry, Emma. This isn't us.' His tone is comforting once again, though his pyjama pants are tented to a degree.

'No, no.' She leans forward and cups his cheek. 'It's okay. I'm sorry, too. You just make me feel like a different person.'

'How so?' He is filled with hope and realises that this isn't a game, like it somehow feels. It isn't them purposely trying to tease each other, rather them trying to figure out the darkened desires they have been denied for so long.

'I feel like we can talk about anything. And when we talk about how we feel about each other, our...urges, I don't feel dirty.' She looks so innocent, and he likes seeing her this way, that's why he is suddenly disappointed with himself, but relieved for her sake.

'I do.' His admission brings sorrow to her eyes.

'Please, don't. I don't want anything between us to be messy.' She brings her other hand to hold his face, to hold him to her and they stare at each other, their chests still heaving from moments ago.

'It already is, Emma. It is so messy.' He emphasises every word and suddenly, the tone changes again and she wants to keep it that way. She wants it to be _so messy_. Her eyes close from arousal and she can feel him leaning forward and his breath on her face again. Suddenly she is surrounded by the smell of him and she wants it on her skin, in her most secret places.

'God, I want you to touch me so badly.' Her head hits the back of the headboard in arousal and need.

He swallows and is shocked by her whimpered secret, his erection straining against the boxer briefs he is wearing.

It takes a moment for her to bring her head up and look into his eyes, embarrassed by the silence.

His eyes have darkened and he looks into hers, and he doesn't want to deny her any longer. Will doesn't want to deny himself any longer.

He places his hands on her knees and ever so slowly moves forward, pushing them apart.

She takes in a deep breath when she lets out with a whoosh when her legs are separated, and she can feel the pulse beating rapidly between them, and she knows she is wet, so she's grateful for the darkness. Her tight, long-sleeved winter pyjama top becomes too hot all of a sudden, but she can't move to take it off, even though she has begun to sweat in the most delicious way.

He moves slowly to sit between her knees and splays his two hands at the two junctures where leg meets hip and her hips buck at the touch. She bites her lip again and he thinks '_God, I've barely touched her_.' He moves his hands up slowly, adding pressure and he stops when he reaches the line below her breasts, though doesn't cup them through her shirt like he did three days ago in the hospital. Her mouth falls open in protest. He drags them down slowly and watches her face contort in pleasure as his thumbs meet at her lower abdomen.

She looks him in the eyes and he sees everything he wants reflected in them and he wants to cry because he wants her so badly.

He buries his face in her belly and her hands grip his curls and she lets out a loud, strangled cry. This is becoming a routine, touching and holding and never going any further. He hasn't ever touched her pale, freckled skin, and he wants to, more than he wants to bury himself inside her. Her stomach muscles clench as he kisses her through her button down shirt and she brings her knees higher, pressing them hard against his shoulders, anchoring him to her. And he knows she wants more. He knows that she wants so badly to be held on the edge of orgasm forever and then crash over it, their body and soul made one, but he knows she isn't ready for that.

That thought doesn't stop him from moving his kisses lower, and then his assault stops, and he finds his head so low her cotton clad thighs are holding his head softly between her legs. He can smell her arousal through her pyjamas and suddenly he crashes his face into her most intimate place and she lets out something between a moan and a scream, because the pressure feels so unbelievably good. And then he is kissing her again though the cotton and she is panting and holding his head against her almost roughly and he can feel the dampness between her legs on his face. He rubs his face against her slowly, his mouth open and massaging all over the place she has kept to herself for so long. She wonders what it looks like from above, her lying there, unsuccessfully hiding suppressed moans and whimpers, pushing against his face as his nose rubs against her opening, a barrier of cotton preventing her from orgasm, but the pressure almost enough to get her off. Her hips move off the bed and rotate begging for him to move his attention to the bundle of nerves that lie north of where his mouth is currently sucking though cotton. Will brings his eyes up to meet Emma's and he sees nothing but love in her eyes, though her lips are trembling and he is selfishly proud that he can do that to her. He watches her face from between her legs as she continues to beg for continuation of his assault through moans. Her lips are so pink and he is so hard beneath the layers of clothing. Will wants to share the pleasure that she is taking pleasure in- he wants to kiss her, see her lips swollen and bruised because of his love and desire for her.

And then he speaks.

'I've never even kissed you. I want so badly to kiss you.'

She stops writhing and her hooded eyes widen. She seems startled, and she stops panting.

'Oh God. I'm so sorry, Will.' Her face looks crestfallen. The list is suddenly before her eyes. First dates, first kisses, second dates, second kisses, weeks and months, long talks and romantic day trips to the lake, and then engagement, marriage and finally, sex.

Everything is a mess and she can't have that. They haven't checked a single step off that list, much less experienced it.

She quickly pulls herself from the bed in panic and hurries to the bedroom door pulling it open. He hears her feet descend the stairs and another door close.

She wasn't coming back to _their_ bed tonight.

Reviews motivate me to write more and get these two back where they should be- in bed together. Please review! Even just a few words, I appreciate it so much.


	6. Comfort

To say it was awkward the next morning was an understatement. Emma was as red as a tomato when Will walked in for breakfast, and although that was the first thing he noticed, the eyes of six other people were focused on his frame.

Introductions were made and Will was invited out by Jodie's husband Luke, Julia, her husband Colin and Amy's husband Ryan, to spend some 'boy time' in the great outdoors, and Will accepted politely. The other husbands seemed nice and this prompted his decision but truthfully, Will knew he and Emma needed some time alone after what had happened last night. They came here to discuss their future, but Will knew that if they discussed anything right now, she would simply be too embarrassed and brush her feelings aside.

After Julia had served him the omelette she was cooking for everyone, her eyes clearly scanning his body and features in wonder and appreciation, Will took a seat next to Emma, who was obviously in deep faux conversation with Jodie. Will watched Emma from the corner of his eye as she sipped her tea, trying to remain interested in the tale Jodie was telling about her three year old, Amber, who was sitting in her lap, picking egg from her mother's plate. Emma's eyes were the size of saucers, and they brought Will back to the night before, when Emma had panicked and ran from their bed.

It was nice to see Emma with her old friends, but what Will had hoped for was to see the Emma he had never met- carefree Emma, her youthful self. Right now, sitting here, Emma looked anything but a college student, and that bothered Will. She looked uncomfortable.

After everyone had finished breakfast and had one to get ready for their plans for the day; the girls staying in and around the property with the children and the men preparing the Jeep for the nature drive, Will left his room to find Emma studying a southern cookbook by the counter. Will made his way to the fridge, taking a water bottle and standing across from Emma, his eyes focused solely on her, waiting for her recognition. As he watched her obvious refusal to look up at him and give her attention exclusively to the page that read 'Southern Shortbread', he spoke softly.

"Emma, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

Her cheeks went red and he could see complete and utter humiliation flash through her large, brown eyes.

He tightened the lid on his bottle and sighed as he watched her swallow in nervousness.

"Please don't think of what happened as a bad thing, Em. It felt good to be close to you like that again." His words were honest and open, wanting her to know that there were no formalities between them. They were best friends before anything else and he needed her to understand that fact.

She began to say something, her eyes finding his, but just as fast, losing their nerve and resettling on the instructions before her rather than the lack of instruction in Will's eyes. And then she continued, her eyes downcast, "It shouldn't have happened and I'm sorry that I lead you to believe that it was okay. It wasn't, Will. We aren't ready." She finished with a little cough that both dismissed him and dismissed her guilt at the most recent lie that had escaped between her lips.

"Yes, we are. You shouldn't judge yourself so much, Emma. Our relationship doesn't have to run a certain course. Have you ever thought that maybe we would be happier if we let ourselves have what we want, when we want?"

"Stop doing that, Will." Her voice was calm and collected and resembled the tone she would counsel students with.

"Stop doing what?" he challenged.

"Trying to dismiss what I want." Her gaze raised and she looked at him for a brief moment before her eyes rested on the tree outside the window.

"I know what you want Emma and I'm not trying to disregard the picture of the perfect life you've imagined for yourself." Will tries to find her eyes but she refuses them. "We can have that Emma- the perfect house with the perfect family, two little girls with red curls and yellow sundresses that dress their little frames." He chuckles and she just looks nervous, glaring out the window. "But on our way, it's okay for us to be intimate with each other. It's not a bad thing to want things, Emma. It isn't wrong to want each other the way we do." His last words are spoken softly and her eyes finally meet his.

"I think we're getting too far ahead of ourselves." Her smile is soft and comforting, but her words speak harsh meaning. "I'm still with Carl and we came here to talk about that."

"No, we didn't," Will refuses. "We both know you're going to leave him and we are going to end up together.'

She sighs dramatically and closes the cookbook before her. "Will, can you stop pretending like you know everything? You don't, so can we just drop it? Last night was a mistake; can we please just leave it at that?"

He moves around her to leave the kitchen and they are quiet for a moment. She feels him behind her and she can sense his gaze lingering on her back.

She thinks he is going to retort with something that will shock her to her core, and he does, but not in the way she denies herself. "Sure. I won't touch you."

"Thank you." She breathes a sigh of relief as he exits the room.

On his way out he throws over his shoulder, "Now that I know how _frustrated_ you really get when I do."

They spent the day with alone, but with many people, and it gave them each time to secretly decipher what had happened between them the night before. Will knew what he wanted and he knew that in her heart of hearts Emma wanted the same thing, but he recognised that she needed time to herself and he was more than willing to give it to her wholly and completely.

So when they found themselves in bed together again that night, Will didn't flirt and neither did Emma. She was wearing different pyjama's and her body was scooted closer to the edge of the bed after she had finished reading. Knowing how relaxed she had been all day after everybody's recounts at the dinner table, Will only wanted to make Emma comfortable around him, the person she was closest to in the house. Settling into bed was not romantic or comprised of expectation like he had wanted it to be, it was just two friends sleeping.

"Em, I was thinking that tomorrow it would be good for us to have a picnic out on the lake, alone." His tone was soft and gentle, asking her opinion on his idea.

"That sounds like a good idea." He could sense her smile in his words and he loved it. Then he was reminded of how she didn't smile so wide with her friends, so he couldn't help but quiz her on it, casually.

"You seem to be different to your friends. They seem very..." He trailed off, not wanting to upset her and not knowing exactly what he wanted to articulate.

"Normal?" She provided calmly.

He shook his head ."No, average. You're exciting compared to them." His smile was wide and he thought of her scrubbing her office desk, picking non-existent flint from a cardigan, rubbing her hands with Purell, legs wrapped around him as he pushed her against a blackboard, his hips rocking erotically into hers.

She scooted closer and sat up on her elbows, her head turned his way. "Really?" Her breasts were pushed forward as she sat this way and all he could think about was licking her chest, bringing her nipples to point with his mouth where they were almost painful and having her moan unintelligently her delight as her fingers splayed through his curls.

"Yes, you are. I'm glad they are leaving tomorrow afternoon, though it was kind of rude of them to just leave us." His eyebrows raised in question of their manners.

"That's the kind of people they are, Will." She slid down the bed and propped her head up with her hand giving him her undivided attention; the attention he had craved so badly during their discussion that morning. "The girls were always like that. I suffered through so many panic attacks in college because Amy and Julia used to smoke in our room and go off to parties without me and I would be madly trying to open the window and get the smell out before it seeped under the door and everyone could smell it." Her words were rushed and crazed and he imagined how much sanitizer Emma really must have gone through in college.

He stifled a chuckle.

"Everyone does pot in college, Em. But it was rude of them to leave you with that stress."

There's a pause for a brief second, silence but for the sound of a child crying downstairs, and they face each other, with grins on their faces.

"I never smoked pot," Emma shares condescendingly.

"I did." His tone matches hers

"I always slept in my own dorm."

"I didn't."

"I never had sex." She can feel his breath on her face as they confer in whispers.

"I had lots of sex." They both laugh for a long time and when they stop, the faint glow of moonlight lights the smile that graces her features. "We're very different, Will. You've experienced so much and I haven't. I like that, though."

"Me, too." His voice is rough and husky and he wants to tell them that he will help her experience everything if she will let him, but he doesn't want to frighten her.

His fingers reach out brush a strand of hair from her eyes and her eyes glisten over with the change of tone, a light sexual tension brewing in the room again.

He speaks first and her heart crumples when he does. "I missed you. I'm glad you're back in my life."

She doesn't say anything when it would be appropriate for her to do so because she is finding trouble in thinking, so he continues.

"You're the love of my life." He says it as though he knows it is a fact and it will never change.

"You don't know that." She shakes her head softly, but a smile tugs at her lips.

"Yes, I do."

So there are going to be some sexy times by the lake next chapter, so here is something to look forward to in terms of where I'm taking these two. I've read so many stories where Emma and Will take it very slowly and those stories are wonderful, but I want them to just give in a little bit. I think Emma's desires don't get enough time to speak so I'm going to let them, through this story and particularly, the next chapter.

Your reviews are so appreciated


	7. Pride

Lying there on the dark navy checked blanket looking up at the bright blue sky, Emma couldn't remember a time when she was more relaxed. Will's jacket was pillowed under both of their resting heads and her feet were bare; her elegant toes no longer suffocating in her heels that she wore_ everywhere. _And beside her, Will lazed in the same position; his even breaths revealing just how comfortable he felt to simply _be_ with her and Emma couldn't help but allow the deadly sin of pride to consume her at the thought that her idea to bring Will here was superb.

They hadn't spoken for at least twenty minutes and it was surely a first. They had never comfortably been in each other's company in silence for an extended period of time, both always finding the quiet far too intimate for the nature of their relationship. Usually, one of them would talk trivial nonsense in an effort to deplete the unwelcomed silence, and they would find their steps again to overcoming the tone that had settled in between pauses. And now they found themselves here, basking in complete and utter serenity.

"When I was a kid I used to lie on the grass in our backyard and stare up at the sky. I don't remember it being sunny much, though. I can remember looking into gray skies..." His tone was calm as he broke the silence with ease, sharing with her a part of himself that she had never known.

"Well, it's sunny today." A light breeze swept around their bodies, lessening the intensity of the burning sunlight and providing Will with the satisfying aroma of Emma's perfume. She smelt wonderful and enticing and so very _Emma_.

"Sure makes up for gray skies." The meaning was there in his words, conveying that his happiness in what they conveyed to each other when they allowed silence to consume them, was abundant.

"The quiet is nice." Her words matched his implication and as they rested in complete tranquillity, they cautiously opened up to each other for the first time.

"It's nice to be silent like this. With you." His tone was soft and pleasant, holding a truth that seeped into her very soul and gripped her heart gently.

She agreed as she turned her head to look at him, eyes closed, a grin pulling at the edges of his mouth as he felt the silky strands of her red hair tickling his neck.

"When I said last night that you were the love of my life-"

"Sshhh, Will. Let's just lie here for a while."

She couldn't help but feel dismissive of his affection, but she knew that he understood her reasons and fears. She loved him; she knew she did; but she remained hesitant to delve further into affairs when she was still committed to her boyfriend. Emma slowly reached out for Will's gentle hand, their fingers intertwined and resting that way for a long moment.

He frightened her with his desires and lusts, always taking control and never letting her lead them in their passion. Though, what she was more afraid of was the fact that he often questioned what she wanted. She wanted him to know that deep down, yes, she thought about a future with him, a life with him.

And she also wanted him to know that she wanted to touch him as much as he wanted to touch her.

She brought his longest finger to the top button of her white blouse and their eyes met for the first time in half an hour.

Looking down at his finger resting on her chest, she could feel his beautiful eyes on her, drinking her in. Her red hair glowed in the sunlight and all he could think about was running his free fingers through the silky strands. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and brought his face up until his lips rested at her hairline. He kissed the pale skin behind her ear lovingly as his fingers closed around the first button on her white blouse. He brought his head up to meet her brown eyes and they only gave him instruction to continue what they both wanted.

He straddled her frame, but like all the times before when their hips had met in frustration and lust, they did not buck. He was simply there, above her, gazing from her gorgeous face to her breasts with a quizzical look on his face. Every time he had been pressed against her, he had been hard and ready for her, but now, the pressure was almost completing.

As his eyes remained locked to hers, he slowly undid three buttons until her shirt was unbuttoned to just above her bellybutton. He gazed at her satin covered breasts in awe. The cream material complemented her freckled skin and he placed the tips of his fingers lightly on the curve where her breasts began, eyes closing in pleasure. Will's experienced fingers unclasped her bra at the front, the cups falling open to reveal her delicate breast in all their glory.

He would have expected her to be shy and look away, but her hand reached his cheek and her thumb danced over his lips as she guided his head to her chest. She could feel his hot breath on her nipples and she sighed in delight. Overwhelmed with bliss, Emma could barely think straight when his mouthed consumed her in one of the most pleasurable ways possible.

"Oh, Will." His lips clamped around a nipple and he softly sucked the small pink bud to a peak. H moaned and she pushed her chest forward, giving him as much of herself as she could on this beautiful day. As he rested above Emma carefully, his mouth worshipping the curves he had so desired to meet, a breeze swept around the two as they reclined on the picnic blanket. He released her nipple from between his lips and she whimpered as he sensually moved wet, open mouthed kisses between her breasts, almost devouring her chest. Her skin tasted better than he had imagined and the silky texture felt incredible beneath his tongue.

She laid there for a long while, allowing him, and herself, the pleasure of exploring her body in such an intimate way. Although they had touched and grinded against each other, and groped in some of the most erotic ways imaginable, this was their first honest rendezvous. No one had ever explored Emma in this way, leaving her completely exposed and open to her emotions and desires. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as his tongue circled the curve of one of her breasts.

"Your breasts are amazing. Perfect." His hum on her skin was delicious and she could feel her entire body flush pink from both arousal and exposure. What could she say to that?

"Thank you." Her mouth had obviously made its decision before her brain could comprehend the intensity of his words.

''_Thank you?' Really, Emma?' _she thought_._ If she was going to go through with this; if they were both going to build a relationship; she knew she had to contribute herself in every part of their intimacy, especially honesty when it came to her desires.

"It feels good, really good." Her lips were parted and her eyes closed as she allowed herself to let go.

"Yeah?" His question was shared with a smirk against her breasts, obviously pleased that she was enjoying his ministrations. But then his gaze rose to meet hers and she realised that he wasn't simply pleased with himself. She was growing as an individual, recognising her wants and needs, and he was so proud, not of himself, but of her.

"Yeah." Her wide smile met his as her fingers played in the soft curls at the back of his neck.

He placed one final kiss on each nipple and one between her breast, mumbling lowly something about freckles, and after reclasping her satin bra, began buttoning her white blouse. After three buttons, he placed a kiss on her sternum softly, his lips warm and comforting on her pale skin.

Their eyes met and closed just as quickly as his lips met hers softly. Lips came undone and opened with each kiss and for the first time in almost a year, Will's tongue met Emma's. It was soft and silky and wet. Their mouths moved together and their tongues slid against each other's slowly. Emma's head was swimming and all she could think was that this is what she wanted forever.

Their kiss broke as softly as it started and she immediately missed the pressure of his tongue on hers.

"That was beautiful, Emma. You're beautiful. Thank you for letting me share that with you."

Her heart fluttered at his genuine love for her that radiated in her touch as his large hand held her waist gently, his eyes that glazed over and his hips that balanced over hers, but did not place any pressure on her thin frame.

It was then that she realised this wasn't one of those moments where they need each other so badly and want each other so much that the utterance of a desire could constrict pants or dampen panties. No, this was love and care and pure devotion that they were giving each other. This was exactly what had happened in the hospital.

And for a second time in her life, Emma Pillsbury realised that it wasn't so bad to let someone in. In fact, it was simply breathtaking.

AN: Reviews and opinions motivate me to write and keep things moving. So if you have a thought about this chapter, please share. And to everyone who reviews each chapter, thank you so very much.


	8. Relaxation

She thought about calling Carl and ending it; she thought about it a lot. It wasn't fair to Carl, nor was it fair to Will. But most importantly, it wasn't fair to her. Emma was confused and uncertain and she would have given anything to have had a confidant she could have trusted, but after the two days with her college friends, she realised that theonly person she had was Will. Emma didn't want to hurt Will, she really didn't, but she was afraid, too. What if it all fell through with Will? How long would he feel this way about her? What if he stopped loving her when he realised how messed up she really was? Despite her insecurities about her future with Will, she couldn't imagine or bear for him to stop touching her, inside and out. Fear and uncertainty consumed her, and so on that afternoon, when Will came into the kitchen, as she was hanging up her cell from talking to her mother, Emma lied.

"I broke up with Carl, Will."

She wasn't planning an affair, she really wasn't. For years she had watched from the sidelines as Will gave her a part of himself and then removed it from her grasp, allowing their relationship the honour of taking a step forward, and then one of them would inevitably take three steps back. She was in love with him, so head-over-heels in love that it made it hard to think sometimes, but always, it made her situation impossible to think about. Emma wasn't like Will; she couldn't say she loved him without him saying it first, she couldn't express herself in the way that her body wanted her too, and she was left with a feeling of mixed uncertainty every time her legs would unwrap from him, or he buttoned her blouse back up, or his head retreated from between her legs.

Emma had never felt such passion for anything in her life before; not a person, not a hand sanitiser, not a piece of herself. Will lit a fire in her mind, her body and her soul, that inflamed every insecurity and all the confidence that she embodied. And when he touched her, looked at her, or spoke to her, she was the Emma Pillsbury that she remembered from her teenage years; alone in her dark bedroom in the middle of the night, her fingers in her panties, bringing herself to a release that would deplete all of her insecurities and allow her to grasp on to that part of herself that was immune to anxiety and loneliness. An orgasm would rip through her lower body powerfully, and for a few seconds Emma would feel totally and completely relaxed, before she would remember that she had to go to school in the morning and face the germs of countless hormonal teenagers, a panic attack overwhelming her in the darkness and security of her bedroom.

By now, at the age of thirty-one, Emma had conquered her anxiety to a degree, understanding herself and knowing how to handle certain situations. And so, at the age of thirty-one, when Emma's fingers played in her panties in the middle of the night in her very own condo, orgasm was not a form of relief from her anxiety. No, she pleasured herself to her fantasies of Will Schuester as he moved above her or sometimes, her above him, and the questions and statements leaving her own mouth in her fantasy where dirty and outrageously erotic. But after she had brought herself to a shuddering climax, she would lie in bed, her red hair sweaty and fanned out on her pristine pillow, consider what to wear on her next date with Carl, or what type of shortbread to bake him on Sunday, because it was what Emma knew, and it was what was safe.

And so, she found herself on the wooden porch with Will, intoxicated with three glasses of wine and him with five, reminding herself of the vernacular that left fantasy Emma's mouth as she asked him the most personal questions in his drunken state.

"Do you fantasize about me?" Her question was allowed. As far as he knew, she wasn't dating Carl anymore, so it wasn't like she was leading him on. She would tell Will the truth soon enough; once she had decided what the truth was herself.

"Yes."

They were sitting on the porch swing, her bare legs in his lap as he trailed his fingers over her skin.

"What do you think about?" The glass of wine was cold in her hands, but as he closed a palm around her ankle softly, warmth spread through her body like wildfire.

He blushes and the breeze that had surrounded them earlier by the lake sweeps past again, though this time a great deal cooler.

"Tell me." She brings the lip of the wine glass to her own and the gaze she casts him is entirely flirtatious in her intoxicated state, her eyes peering over the glass as she takes a sip.

"I'd rather not, Emma." He is looking at her fingers, his tone shy and withdrawn, so she wiggles her toes.

"Why?" She arches her foot and rests the arch over his jean-clad thigh as she grins widely. She can feel the hard muscle underneath and it makes her want to explore his body while he sleeps so that she can do to him everything she desires. Then she thinks that maybe he would want to be awake.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable." He lets out a husky laugh, but he is completely serious.

"I don't know discomfort when I'm with you." Her tone is soft and reminds him of the Emma Pillsbury that has been missing all day.

She blushes at her own words and she rubs her foot softly on his leg, causing him to shift on the swing.

"What do you know?" he casts his gaze toward her as he speaks, their eyes focused on one another.

"You tell me first," she flirts casually, her foot still resting between his knee and his crotch. She sounds experienced, like a hooker in a very expensive brothel.

He is quick to get the words out at her question as these thoughts run through his mind. He knows nothing but honesty and certainty.

"Pleasure."

Her eyes stay locked on his, but he can see her facade crumble a little bit as his tone sobers her somewhat. She knows he can see right through her, so she looks away, only to further question him as she tries to pull away emotionally. Her left calf remains draped over his thigh though, while her other leg is bent at the knee with her foot pushing at him lovingly.

"So what do you think about when you fantasize about me?" She's smiling again, practically purring the words.

"Honestly?" His tone and gaze are so sweet and pure that she cuts the act a little and tries to relax.

"Yes." She looks down at her wine glass again as she gives him permission to take this to a deeper level than it has already escalated to.

"I think about your body." He looks sorrowful, like he is ashamed to be objectifying her, but as tingles shoot through her lower half, this redheaded feminist couldn't care less. In reality, when she fantasised about him, she got off on his whispered words and his toned body._ So why should double standards exist?_ It was natural, and so, so right. They were taking their relationship to another level, and the issue of sex was what needed profound conquering. They had no control over this subject. Years had been spent learning the other through words, and that was so very important, in fact the most important. But _sex_, well that was something else.

"What about my body?" She cocks her head to the side and she can already feel the dampness pooling between her legs. He gets her so very hot.

"How much I want to touch it." His tone is low and sexy and she knows he wants her. So, she keeps going.

"Just touching?" Her foot has a mind of its own when it travels higher on his thigh and settles over his crotch, applying just the right amount of pressure.

He catches her gaze and looks deep into her eyes as he says the dirtiest thing he's ever said to a woman. "No. Licking, biting, sucking."

"Where?" She's never had sex and she hasn't touched herself in five weeks, so she just wants his fingers inside her _now_, as she whispers the dangerous question.

"_Everywhere_." Her insides clench at his powerful answer and she wants him to put his head between her legs like it was two nights ago. Though, this time she wants him to lick and bite and suck at her core without a barrier of cotton.

"Your turn. " It starts to drizzle rain and she can feel the dampness on her bare arms. For a moment, she is disgusted by this sensation, but then she remembers that her silky purple tank top is remarkably sexy on her. That was why she had chosen it in the first place. When she remembers the reasoning for choosing it, her attention returns to the man who had his lips closed around her pink, taut nipple less than five hours ago.

"What?" She knows what he means, but if she really wants to play this game, she's going to pretend like she isn't in complete control, because she can't handle the thought of being Emma Pillsbury anymore. So why not just blame it on the alcohol?

"What do you think about when you fantasize about me?"Will asks slowly. He wants to know; he needs to know. If he doesn't ask now, he may never know and that thought scares him so much. If he doesn't know what she desires, how can he be the one to fulfil her dreams?

Emma's never done anything like this. She doesn't know how to talk dirty, but by the way he's looking at her, his eyes hooded with complete and utter lust, she feels a spark of confidence ignite in her again.

"Putting my hands on your chest." She makes the actual movement, sitting there tipsy, pushing her hands in front of her into the air, as though she were moulding them to his body. He grins at her and she smiles back at him.

She doesn't want the tension to drive away from heavily sexual, though. He senses she wants to say more, but he doesn't want to push her, so he doesn't prompt her further. They sit there for a few moments before she quickly swallows the remainder of her wine in one long gulp and turns to him.

"While I sit above you." He's already hard with her foot rubbing his erection slowly, but he knows she's drunk and not into control of herself. Once, a long time ago, he considered that maybe they weren't a great match. _Was she as passionate as he was?,_ he had questioned himself. How wrong he had been to ask. Now he was the one who was about to tell her that she had to keep her hands of him for her own good and for the sake of their relationship.

It was more of a question than a statement, but she took his words as seriously as she could in her state. "I don't think we should make love tonight, Emma."

She honestly doesn't know whether to be offended, disappointed or relieved. "Okay."

They sit there for a long time, just as they had by the lake a few hours ago. The drizzle begins to turn into rain, and the mixed noise of the water crashing on the iron roof of the shed and the alcohol swimming through her veins gives her the confidence to place her wine glass on the floor below the swing and settle herself closer to Will. Her head rests on his shoulder and she feels his arm settle around her waist. He has so much experience and she doesn't know what to do about the pulsing sensation between her legs, but she does know that she has had enough of sitting around in silence with him when they could be doing _so_ much more.

So she puts her hands on his chest as she sits beside him, and in one quick move, she's fantasy Emma, sitting on top of her lover, straddling him on the swing, the seat rocking until Will plants his feet strongly to the floor beneath and catches her gaze strongly with his own. Their eyes burn into each other's as she grounds her pelvis into his once, releasing some of the pressure between her legs. She watches his face contort in shock and bliss and she is enjoying what she's doing to him, sitting there in the moonlight and darkness, pleasuring him in such an adventurous way. She does it again and again, and after a while she moves his arms from his sides and wraps them around her waist as she sits above him, on him, over him.

After a while, she's the one whose eyes are hooded and her body is tense in her efforts to achieve the pleasure that she wants, feeling the result of what she's doing to the one man who truly loves her with every fibre of his being.

"Emma, you have to stop." His teeth are gritted and he is straining to keep his wits about him as she moves torturously above him.

Her moans are loud and her hips won't stop grinding into his. His hardness is pushed right up into her centre and she's rocking into him almost violently, desperate to get off.

"No." She's definite and commanding when she refuses him.

His feet are still planted firmly on the floor in frustration, preventing the swing from rocking, but occasionally the metal swing hits the wall of the cabin, but the rain is so loud that neither one of them can hear what they sound like, dry fucking on her college friend's porch swing.

He knows she's close when she starts whimpering and rotating her hips in his lap, pushing her clit into the hardness of his erection through his jeans and her shorts. His hands leave her waist and slip into the back pockets of her denim shorts, pulling her impossibly closer and thrusting up, and he can only imagine what it would be like to just unzip the denim and slip into her. It would be romantic too, seeing as she's about to come in his arms in the pouring rain.

He finds it impossible to hold back and the enthusiasm and desperation she inhibits causes his undoing. She's bouncing up and down on him fiercely, mid-orgasm, when he groans and releases himself in his pants, burying his face in her red hair that is wild with her movements.

He holds her to him tightly, but little tremors are still running through her lower half and she can't resist. So, as he softens in his pants, his breathing laboured and his mind considering how that's possible because he is still so unbelievably horny, Emma shifts and places a knee between his and sits on his thigh. She grinds softly for a few moments, her head buried in his neck as she comes for a second time and he _feels_ it- the throbbing of her core through her damp shorts, the tightness of her thighs around his, her wet breath on his neck as she pants, and her vulnerability in her most relaxed state.

"You're lovely, Emma."

She pulls back and her eyes are dark with lust, while his just look sated. She stands and takes his hand, leading him to their bedroom, where they were both to learn a few more things about the other.

And what he doesn't know may just make the night better, too.

AN: I hope everyone liked this chapter. Thoughts? Opinions? Questions? A review would be lovely!


	9. Inside

The mood was romantic and sweet and sensitive as they made their way to the bedroom, stumbling into the cabin, the door swinging on its hinges wildly in the wind. The heavy rain drops pelted against the windows, mirroring the bullets of passion that fired through their blood as their tongues collided and uncharacteristically battled for dominance. But they were safe and warm in the comfort of the house, protected in each other's passionate hold as Will whipped Emma's silky singlet over her head and she attempted to rid him of his t-shirt, as they blindly discovered the art of climbing stairs in darkness.

She was wrapped up in his arms, her own clasped behind his neck as their tongues duelled in their haste to get to the bedroom. They stopped a few times when touches would become too aggressive and one of them would have to withdraw slightly to remind their lover that what they needed to happen couldn't. Nimble fingers pulled at zippers, palms flattened over moist denim and mouths closed over tiny, taut nipples when Emma's bra had been ridded of by the time they had reached the second step of the wooden staircase.

But when they finally reached the bedroom, the door was closed, and with Emma's legs secured around his waist and his hands too occupied with caressing her breasts, he pushed her roughly against it, eliciting a moan from her mouth as they shared themselves in way that was foreign.

It was passionate, ricocheting off the sexual pleasure they had just allowed themselves, their lips moulding in the most delicious manner, moving simultaneously in a way that made Will query why he hadn't made it a lifelong mission to make love to her with his mouth for the rest of his life. One of her hands left his neck to cup his face, guiding the kiss that seemed to go on and on forever. When it broke, they were heaving and panting, her tiny pale breasts pressing against his sculptured chest between laboured breaths as his hands stroked her rib cage, his forehead resting shakily on hers. It was sweet, the way they were. Any long married person would have been jealous of the passion that encompassed the two, but as long denied lovers, Will and Emma knew simplicity's antonym as well as they knew themselves. And that there; that knowledge; was the single issue that prevented sexual and emotional endeavours. Until now.

It was charming; the way Will placed a flurry of kisses over Emma's lovely face. It was also what shied her away from her desires; that the one man she loved and cared for and wanted in her bed, on her skin, and in her body, needed to take the time to love and cherish her and grant her the moment to think about who she was and just what she was doing. If he didn't care so much, it wouldn't have scared her. If he wouldn't pay her as much attention, there wasn't that attention to lose.

Pants slowed to heavy breathing and then heavy breathing slowed down to a semi-normal pace. As their eyes unlocked, so too did her thighs from their anchored position around his waist, and she slid down his body, leaning against the door for support. He could feel in his soul the Emma he knew so well returning to his presence and he stood there watching her, happiness etched across her face, but not wanting to frighten her with his lustful, loving gaze, so he dropped it and took a long step back.

She bites her lip seductively, but he knows she's simply bashful and doesn't do it for the sole purpose of making his heart swell. She turns slowly to open the door and he watches her long delicate fingers twist the doorknob, and he can't help but cover her hand with his own and push against her body as the door creaks open. She feels the palpable electricity flow through her veins and his gentle touch is intimidating and consuming as the warmth of his cotton covered chest pushes against her shoulder blades in an endearing manner. She knows he isn't pushing her, that's why she loves him so very much, but his skill in guiding the way into the room is slightly overbearing, only amplified by the flames of longing and devotion in his tender eyes.

"I'm going to use the bathroom, Will. Is that okay?" She speaks softly to his crotch when they are standing in the centre of the room, before the bed, and he raises his eyebrows, unaware of her meaning.

He looks down at his pants and then meets her face, a grin gracing his features, but he can't read Emma's features. She looks as though she's pondering in thought as she gazes at the wet patch that her ministrations and their undying love have inevitably produced.

"Sure, I'll just clean up in here." His hands gesture to his surroundings, their bedroom, and she nods and whispers her reply as she makes her way to the bathroom.

"Okay." She almost sounds guilty and he honestly doesn't know what to do, how to handle her mood swings. He wonders if her sudden reluctance is a result of her melancholy over the finality of her relationship with the fabulous, over-achiever Carl, but then he remembers how she rode his dick and shook in his arms less than five minutes ago, and he's all of a sudden proud and smug, a sinful cocktail of passion.

After he takes off his jeans and his soaked boxers and dresses into his pyjama pants, because he assumes that they are of course going to bed with her sudden change in attitude, he realises that she has in fact been in the bathroom for a while, and the water isn't running.

He knocks once and she doesn't answer. He knocks twice and wonders if she's crying. He knocks a third time and whips the door open and her eyes widen in the mirror as their gazes catch, eyes locking and penetrating every emotion that they never knew existed.

She's standing there in her panties and nothing else and she watches him as she leans against the sink, looking like she's teaching her reflection a breathing exercise. She isn't frightened or crying, but she's expectant and he doesn't know what she wants from him anymore. He's tired of leading and guiding her and developing this relationship, so he gives into himself and lets his eyes wander over her naked body as he knows she did the other night when she accidentally walked in on him in the bathroom. Her eyes had bludged and she had swallowed in fright as she studied his manhood in all its glory for a moment, then she had stuttered her apologies and left their en suite in a hurry, a red blush creeping over every inch of skin he was allowed to see.

Now he can't take his eyes off her ass, and he knows she's looking him in the mirror and he also knows that she's blushing, but he can't tear his gaze away and he doesn't care. Her panties are mauve and lacy and he doesn't even feel a little bit of regret when his hand reaches out and his palm flattens on her round cheek.

"Why did you choose me over him?" His tone is soft as he discovers her curves with soft caresses and she tries to deliver a suitable, dignified answer, but a puff of air escapes her thin, perfect lips as his nipples catch on her bare back and his chest hair tickles her freckled skin seductively.

There were so many answers to his question.

"Because I don't want him inside of me like I want you." It's almost a whisper, but not quite, because she wants him to hear it but keep her modesty in check at the same time. So, she watches his gaze fall to her bare shoulder as she mutters her answer softly.

He leans his hands on the edge of the counter, trapping her between his chest and the sink. After a while, he lifts his head and presses a loving kiss to the skin of her velvet shoulder before he raises his vision to her glowing face.

"I want to fuck you."

As soon as the words leave his mouth and he sees her wide eyes in the mirror in front of him and feels her body tense before him, he wants to take the words back. He wants to tell her that wasn't what he meant. That he wanted so much more than fucking. This, this was where he always screwed up. She was trying, and he knew just how hard she was trying, but she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

"I want you to fuck me, too", she practically pants.

He knows she's a withdrawn and lonely person, but beneath that, she is so much more. She's passionate and she wants everything too much, but her fault lies within not letting anyone know that. One thing Will has always been intuitive to is Emma's needs and desires that the average person wouldn't know. Anybody could look at Emma Pillsbury and script her biography of all 31 years by the way she held herself and conducted her everyday chores. And that was why Will wasn't afraid to be like this with her. Nobody knew her like he did.

"Put your fingers inside me, Will."

It was the last thing he could imagine her saying, and it made him a little bit petrified. But as their gaze locked for a fleeting moment, he realised that this was acceptable. It wasn't wrong to finally be able to love each other the way they had wanted to for so long. In all honesty, it was remarkably beautiful, like a replication of a deliciously passionate love story that they were rewriting on their own terms.

Their eyes ceased communication through the reflection when his hand slid from the sink and palmed the front of her panties, her eyes closing and her head falling back onto his shoulder, her naked chest rising and falling in pleasure. He ghosted his fingers over her most sensitive bundle of nerves and she shook in his arms, his arm curling around her waist to support her trembling frame. He pulled her panties down to mid thigh slowly, first one side then the other, and he wished that the mirror didn't end at chest level because he wanted so badly to see her naked lower half. But then he felt it with his own fingers, as one of her hands fisted in his curls, her arm reaching behind him as she pushed her behind into him softly. He was aroused, but not desperate. Their tryst on the swing had released the tension within his body, but he knew that she wasn't sated. She had never experienced anything like this, and he wanted to give it to her all at once.

Emma was wet; she had soaked through her panties like he had and her folds were slick when he ran a finger from her opening to her clit slowly. Her breathing was becoming laboured and she thought he would make this a torturous game of erotica, but then a single finger entered her and she clamped her insides around his finger as a gush of air escaped her lips in a sigh of shock and contentment and her eyes snapped open. Her head shot up off his shoulder and as he legs clamped together, locking his hand in its place, lace fell from her thighs to her ankles. He curled his finger inside her and another gasp escaped her as he caressed her g-spot with the very tip of his calloused finger. His lips caressed the shell of her ear.

Emma bit her lip and moaned and then he spoke for the first time while he was inside her, "I'm so in love with you."

She cried out at a particularly skilful curl of his finger, but guilt begins to creep through her veins and she can't do this to Will. And everything unravels.

"I lied". It's a sob and a cry and a gasp. He pauses and their eyes meet in the reflection.

"What?" His finger was still inside her. Emma's heart aches and her inner muscles begin to contract, but she grasps his hand and pulls his finger from within her, pushing his hand away from her core.

She licks her dry lips and confesses her confusion and self-hatred. "I lied again. First I lie about you being my boyfriend and now-"

"Now what?" He's been hurt before, she suddenly remembers and she's scared. It's selfish, but she can't lose him, and she doesn't want him to lose her, because she doubts he could survive if she led him on and then released him when she loses herself in the decision to choose simplicity with her dentist.

So she risks her life, her heart and her soul, and makes the decision to be Will's forever when she tells him the truth.

His eyebrows rise when she delivers the news that she remains romantically involved with Carl, but he doesn't look angry. He almost looks like he expected this. He knows it's unlike her, and he knows she is not impulsive in any way, so he unselfishly feels for her. And in the moment, relief floods Emma's heart as she realises that this man is who she wants for eternity, because he needs her just as badly. Understanding is the key to their souls and they give each other the metaphor wholeheartedly.

"I'm scared, Will." She turns and falls into his hold, his arms creeping around her waist, holding her to him lovingly.

"Me, too." He places a kiss in her hair as they both relax, finally.

"I don't know why I lied about breaking up with Carl."

"Yes, you do."

She looks frightened and ashamed until he explains himself.

"It's because you don't feel anything for him, and that's easy. You will never get hurt. Let's face it, Emma. We have already hurt each other so much and we are both far too sensitive to not be afraid of each other. This is difficult, so difficult." She pulls back from him and crosses her arms over her naked chest as she converses with him.

"It used to be simple."

"Yeah, it did." He nods. "When we couldn't have each other."

"Are we crazy?" she quirks an eyebrow and smiles.

"Yes."He returns her smile and she thinks he is just adorable. In fact, she wants to have his adorable children.

"I'm so sorry I said what I did," She starts her apology. "I know how lies destroy you and I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already hav-"

"Shh. Its okay, Em. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose. Let's wait until we get home to tell Carl. You're too good a person to do that over the phone. You are close to him, Emma, and I don't want him perceive you as a vindictive person."

"Thank you, Will."

"So what happens now?" She asks honestly. The way they are standing there, so close ad so naked could be awkward, but it isn't. It's warm and loving and neither has felt those emotions so strongly for many years.

"We wait. We have two days left before we have to leave to go back to work..."

"We should stay here," she insists. "Do what we came to do- talk." She smirks and he wants to make her pant and whimper again, but he promised her he wouldn't make love to her tonight, and if she got him any more excited, he wouldn't have any boxers left.

"And maybe when we get back we should consider taking our relationship to the next level." It's then that she realises that her panties are tangled in her ankles.

"I'd like that." Her grin is contagious as a blush warms her cheeks, but she doesn't bend to pick her panties up from between her legs.

"I like you." His hand reaches out to rest on her bare hip.

She giggles and lowers her gaze to his chiselled chest.

"I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight. I think it would be best if we didn't tempt ourselves." He runs his hand over her ass teasingly and then removes it, smiling at her almost condescendingly.

She should be agreeing with him but she doesn't want that. Over the past few days, she's learnt how to get what she wants; how to voice her desires. And now he wants to sleep on the couch.

All she wants is him moving inside her, a drop of sweat travelling over his nipple and reaching hers as their naked torsos collide with each complete thrust.

Instead, she agrees with him, "Sure."

AN: I hope everyone enjoyed this resolution as much as I did. The next chapter is going to be VERY interesting. Comments? Suggestions? One word reviews? I adore them and they motivate me. And they will make my day. Thank you all for reading and to those who review, it is so appreciated.


	10. Respect

If there was one part of their relationship that was honoured to an almost unhealthy degree, it was respect. In all her time of knowing Will, Emma had not once ever witnessed him make a sexist remark, a crude statement or a gesture that objectified her as a woman.

So, when Will made the decision for them to sleep separately that night, the night they had ventured as far into their relationship than they ever had before, Emma respected his wishes, because if there was one thing that constantly ran through both of their veins, it was mutual respect.

Sure, passion was an underlying current, but always, that seductive flow met a barrier where it would come to a deliberate crossroads with respect and lust, and passion would become caution as respect inevitably won them over.

She had laid there for a long while, mulling over her actions earlier and the happiness it had brought the both of them, and Emma realised something very important. She was no longer afraid. She thought about his words and their importance and her conscience discussed the relevance of intimacy in their relationship. Will had told her that he thought it best that they wait until they arrived back in Lima until they gave each other everything, but she wasn't so sure he was right. He wasn't doing it for them, he was making these rules and setting these boundaries for her, and she didn't think that was relevant to their relationship. He had given her everything, and it would be against her morals to believe she was giving him herself by sleeping with him, but she wanted him to understand that by making love, she was laying out all her cards on the table, like he had a long time ago.

Emma wasn't ashamed of her life choices, but she knew that Will thought that she was and she also knew that for this belief, he was constantly trying to make her understand that there was no reason for her to feel in such a way. Sometimes she was shy and bashful when they were together, and she was constantly intimidated by women who were blonde and beautiful, like her lovers ex-wife, but she wasn't ashamed in anyway. She was simply inexperienced, and she needed him to know this, because she couldn't go through with being so intimate with him and having him believe that she didn't respect herself.

As she holds the refrigerator door open slightly at 3am that morning, Will asleep on the couch, she thinks about waking him and telling him to come back to bed with her, but she doesn't. Instead, he props himself up on the cushions and pokes his head over the back of the couch, to her ignorance in the darkness.

"Emma." She spins around from the fridge at his whisper of her name and shuts the fridge door in a fright. Even without the light of the fridge illuminating the slim form of her body, he can still see her palm pressed to her sternum in anxiety.

"Sorry I scared you," he whispers softly again, afraid to wake the ghosts of apprehension.

She rests her elbows on the kitchen counter her chest still heaving for reasons different than she was five hours ago. "No, that's okay. Sorry I woke you."

"It would be romantic of me to say that you didn't." He pauses and she hangs onto his every word. "But you did."

He grins and she blushes as he finishes, "You are forgiven."

The wind is howling outside, the wooden cabin a flute for the melody that enhances the tenderness of their conversation. She moves closer to the couch and sits down near where his feet rest and he politely brings them up to his body for her to sit down.

"Will can we talk about something?" Emma's tone isn't scared or timid like it usually is when she wants to have an important discussion, and this quality prompts him to consider which end of the scale the tension will be at when she inevitably returns to her bedroom alone, because she will. She always does and for a decent reason.

"Sure. It is 3am, though. Do you want to wait until morning?" It isn't that he doesn't want to have a conversation with her, although he is tired. He just wants her to consider whatever it is she wants to talk about, because judging by the way her eyes are unguarded and locked onto his, he knows she is fragile.

Her lips purse and her head tilts somewhat nervously and she refutes his offer. "As a guidance counsellor I have learnt that students deliver more to me when their thoughts are running at a mile a minute, so I'd rather talk about it now." He nods and her mouth parts innocently, her mind obviously conjuring the thoughts that she wants to convey to him.

"Umm, I..." she stutters and he thinks about making a joke to calm her wild hand gestures, but he has no idea just what she wants to divulge to him in the early hours of the morning, so he agrees that it would be a good idea to express herself now with a raise of his left eyebrow and another nod, prompting her softly.

"I...I know this seems like it's all about sex, Will, but it isn't." He eyes brim with tears as she starts but her confidence builds and they disappear. "I just don't understand sex very well and I want to give myself to you wholly and completely," a gush of air escapes her lips as she attempts to blow her wavy red hair from her eyes and his hand reaches up to push the strands behind her ear as she continues. "I value sex so much because it's hard for me to understand. I'm a guidance counsellor- I'm able to understand people on an emotional level so easily. It's like second nature to me, where that can be hard for most people." His eyes are locked on hers and he takes every word into his very soul and copies them to his mind for further reference: a later time when they are intimate, because they will be intimate again. "That's why I fell in love with you so easily; it was all emotional. But when it came time that it was okay to be with you, physically, I couldn't do." She shakes her head, but she doesn't look ashamed. Instead, she appears to finally understand and accept herself. "It's okay to want things when you can't have them, because it's safe. So where sex is easy for some and talking hard for them to do, I'm the opposite. That physical connection is hard for me."

He already knows everything she has just told him, he has known for a long time. He feels that if he didn't know, he would never have deserved to have shared what he already had with her.

He leans forward and places a kiss to her forehead, so very gently resting his lips on her skin for a matter of minutes. When he removes them, she places her palms on each of his shoulders and pushes back gently and she straddles him lightly as they lie on the couch in the darkness, her knees on either side of his thighs and her face resting lovingly in the juncture of his neck.

He places a kiss to her hairline and the wind howls around them as she breathes in his scent and sighs contentedly.

"Carl is having an affair."

He doesn't know what to say when the secret falls from her lips, but his eyes resemble hers when she became the recipient of April Rhodes' alcoholic gift to Kurt.

"What?" He chokes a response because he doesn't know if he really wants to murder Carl or thank him.

"A woman rang the house last week." Emma offers as a response as she explains quietly, her face still buried in his neck. "She told me that she was sleeping with him."

He wants to believe the woman for his own selfish reasons, but respectfully, he wants to protect Emma from adultery. "Maybe she lied."

"She didn't." Her certain tone is neutral and he can't help but feel jealous that she is pretending not to care about another man.

"Oh." His response is pathetic, he knows, but he also knows deep down that Carl did have an affair.

"I was upset, Will. I was very upset." Her breath is hot against his skin and his heart aches for Emma. "But not as upset as when I saw you with your wife; when I imagined you being intimate with her and not with me." He can feel her tears on his neck and he swallows. "That broke me, Will."

For a long while, the wind outside is the only music in the room, until Emma curls her lips around his pulse point and her tongue slips between her flesh to stroke his skin. He can't think, though the part of his brain that always prompts him to touch her is screaming how right this is and how lovely she feels pressed against his body so romantically.

"Fix me." His arms circle around her waist and she's too in love with him to care about how needy her request sounds.

"I don't want to wait until we get home to be together. No more games, Will." It's barely a whisper from her lips, but he wants to scream it from the rooftops in New York City, he's so in love with her.

He waits a moment before replying, taking in what she is telling him. And then he realises that it was silly to want to scream her confession from the rooftops, because she is the only person who would truly care. In that moment, Will realises just how poignant this second is. This is the most passionately significant moment of his life.

His answer is simple and loving. "Okay."

They slept curled in each other's arms that night, their legs intertwined an her head in his neck, their torsos pounding against each other's softly as their heartbeats allowed for serenity to consume them.

Respect, mutual respect, always allowed for the promise of a future to linger around every move that Emma made and every glance that Will took of her, and finally, they knew what the future would hold for them on the following night in the wooden cabin in Tennessee. On their last night, something extraordinary would occur in which stars would burst behind Emma's eyes and Will would shudder inside her.

All of this would happen on their last night in Tennessee.

AN: I realise this chapter is shorter than the rest, but this needed to happen without anything overly sexual happening. Anyway, I hope everybody enjoyed this chapter. This story is in fact coming to a close and we have two chapters left. Reviews are so appreciated and if you want to have any input on the next chapter which is going to be the climax (pun intended), it would be fantastic if you could drop a line or two. Ad to those who always review, you make me smile like the sun and fall out of bed.


	11. Sex

At seven the next morning, when Emma made her way back to their bedroom, the sound of dripping and soft thudding caused her ears to perk. After a while of searching for the cause, she eventually discovered that there was a leak in the centre of the roof, large droplets of rainwater cascading straight onto the mattress.

Will opted for them to move into another bedroom, but they had been sleeping on a double mattress, unlike all of the others in the house who had claimed queen beds, and the only spare sheets Emma had in her suitcase were doubles, too small to fit all the queen mattresses in the house. He watched her explain this, her hands flying wildly in the air and her red curls tousled as she stood there in her pyjamas, presenting to him what she thought was the most impossible situation she had ever been placed in. She was gorgeous and he couldn't wait to spend his life with her.

Will further suggested that they simply sleep on top of another bed, even though they had been stripped of linen, but the way Emma's eyes widened conveyed that perhaps it was better for everyone if sometimes he kept his mouth shut. Then she suggested that maybe they could dress a queen size bed in double sheets and try to not move too much and the smaller sheets wouldn't tangle. Will raised his eyebrows and she remembered how they were planning to spend their last night in the cabin and she blushed profusely.

She told him she was going to take her morning shower, and when she came out of the downstairs bathroom, towel wrapped around her head and dressed in a white button down and skinny jeans, he was dragging a mattress down the stairs. She leant against the doorway, a grin from ear to ear as, unbeknownst to her, he huffed and swore under his breath about the weight of the mattress, bringing a palm to swipe across his heavy forehead.

"I thought you were a muscle man?" He turned at her jovial words, a smirk flashing across his face, matching hers.

"You did?" he proudly enquired as he rested his elbows on the banister, allowing the mattress to rest against the wall.

"Uhuh." She crossed her arms below her breasts and he licked his lips as he gazed at her for a moment, drinking her in. He wanted every morning to be like this; not dragging mattresses down stairs, but waking with her in his arms and seeing her without makeup, like a young girl.

He wanted her.

"Tennessee is crazy. Halfway here it snowed on the drive," he conversed, "And now, it's so hot I can't drag a mattress down the stairs." His eyes widened in mock shock and he smiled beautifully at her as she tucked a lose strand of silky wet hair behind her ear.

"It was a little bit warm yesterday, Will. Today is not warm. You are just weak." She enjoys teasing him in and she hopes that in their future she will have the courage and confidence to tease him in more pleasurable ways, because she knows he has been holding back with her. With that thought, he contradicts her idea of him.

"I know it was warm yesterday, you were wearing shorts." She nods, biting her bottom lip. "Your legs looked great in those."

Her face is hot red and she can feel the blush moving like fire over her neck. It's silly; his fingers were inside her last night and this is almost innocent, but she knows he has a secret leg fetish. He never objectified her purposefully, but when she did catching his staring at her, it was never her chest or her behind, it was her legs. She's known for years and she enjoys it, knowing that he wants to touch them. Even when he was married, she would trade her nylons in for creamy bare skin on the coolest of winter days, just to know that he would be watching when she moved from her seat in the lunch room to the bench.

She's embarrassed in the finest possible way so she moves from where she's standing, out of his vision as she moves into the kitchen.

"So I found this double mattress in the kid's bedroom," he yells from the stairs. "I thought we could put it in front of the fireplace and we could sleep there tonight." She blushes as she reaches for the handle to the cupboard, her hand lingering there as she realises what he's doing; he's creating the perfect setting for one of the most important nights of her life.

She hears his footsteps coming from behind her and she feels his hands rest on her waist as he places a sweet, soft kiss to the freckled skin between her neck and shoulder.

"Would you like that, Emma?"He whispers as he places a gentle kiss behind her ear.

Her breath has caught in her chest as she anticipates their evening. "Yes. I would like that very much."

They dressed the mattress in her pale blue sheets together before breakfast, and throughout the day, they both caught themselves staring at the bed, conjuring private, passionate images of how they would spread themselves upon the giant cushion later that night.

It was planned, but there was little pressure. Deep down, Emma knew that if for some reason she couldn't go through with it, nothing would change.

They spent the morning reading classic literature on the swing they pleasured each other on the night before, while the afternoon was wasted by the lake wrapped in a blanket because, finally, a cold front had moved over Tennessee. Will made mushroom risotto for dinner while Emma showered again and dressed herself in what she believed was the raciest lingerie ever materialised, but was in fact simple black lace that made her breasts look amazing. She stood before the mirror running her hands over her breasts, feeling her nipple harden beneath the layer of soft lace, and she could see it pucker in her reflection. She trailed her hand down over her abdomen and smiled with pride, content with the shape of her body and the flatness of her stomach. She knew she was beautiful, but now, she was sexy, too, and the beige wool dress she had opted to wear hugged her minimal curves in an explicit manner.

During dinner, they spoke about their childhoods and their first kisses and their family vacations. Then he told her that he wanted three kids and she told him she wanted four and he placed his fork down in mock defeat and joked that their relationship was over and she giggled like a school girl. He watched the way she ate and spoke to him and occasionally, their bare feet would touch under the table and he couldn't think of anything more perfect than this. _This _was where he was supposed to be and he imagined them making love on their honeymoon in Ireland and going to parent teacher interviews together and caressing her swollen belly when she was pregnant with their fourth child, because as of twenty minutes ago, he had resided to the fact that he wanted no less than four children.

They cleaned up the dishes together and he sang along with the country music on the radio, which was tuned to the only frequency they could receive. Eventually, she joined in and after he had helped her dry the dishes, he kissed her long and hard.

They stood there in the kitchen kissing for a long time, sighing into kisses that were soft and loving and open and giving. Emma's tongue caressed his confidently and his hands rested on her forearms as he returned the touch. Eventually, he pulled back and told her that he would start a fire before he caught the goose bumps that she had all over her skin and she smiled at him cautiously before placing her dishtowel down and telling him that she needed to freshen up.

She didn't freshen up, though. Instead, she rounded the corner into the hallway, out of his view, and hyperventilated to a minor degree for a few minutes. Emma's brain was running at full overload but she wasn't afraid of being afraid. This had all happened so quickly, but as she stood there, she told herself what she knew was the truth- that this was the most wonderful thing that had happened to her in a long time and she didn't want to push it away, but if she had to, she couldn't, because Will wouldn't let that happen.

Her hand was held tight to her chest, her eyes closed, when he found her there like that.

"Oh, sweetheart." His tone revealed the pity he had for her and her troubles as his shoulders slumped in empathy. He brought her into his arms and held her tight, trying to calm her, placing a loving kiss to her hair line. He leant against the wall and brought her with him, resting her head on his chest as her bare toes dug into the wooden floor in frustration with herself.

"Will, I want to be with you, this isn't-"

"I know, I know." He hushed her words as they stood in the darkened hallway holding each other. "I'll spend the rest of my life making you feel comfortable, so if you are unsure about doing what we are going to be doing tonight, I'm more than happy to wait for-"

"No." Her lips crashed into his and she pushed him harder against the wall, capturing his bottom lip between hers and forcing them open, allowing her tongue to tangle with his slowly.

He had little reservation about whether they were rushing things. He was so irrevocably in love with Emma that he knew there was no one who could give her more care and devotion that he could. It was selfish but he knew that she had a habit of settling for people she didn't love, and he couldn't bear the thought that somebody wouldn't love her enough. She was the single great love of his life and he would cherish her forever, in every way.

He turned them around, pushing her back towards the wall with slight force, but softening the blow with the palm of his hand as he gathered her in his other arm. His palm slid from the wood and cupped her cheek as she felt her back flatten against the wall, his eyes reflecting all of the passion and happiness he had invested into their relationship.

She didn't notice at first; he had touched her thighs before in a friendly manner; but as his fingers curved around the muscle on her legs, his wrist bunched her dress up her creamy thighs as his palms travelled higher and higher. She thought it would stop when he got to the line of her panties, but he only continued, gathering the material in his fingers and pulling her dress up past her abdomen, stopping for a moment to admire the black lace that covered her most intimate area. His palms flattened on her ribs as he dragged her dress up over her head and threw it on the floor beside them, his lustful eyes meeting hers and travelling down to her breasts. She could see he was having trouble controlling his breathing, and she wanted to see him naked, feel their chests pressed together hotly.

"I want you." The words left her lips as her fingers began to undo the buttons on his shirt, and she was pleased to discover he wasn't wearing an undershirt.

"I want you, too." He tore his shirt off over his head, making her forget that there were ever any buttons. Her lips crashed onto his sternum and she kissed his hot skin like it was the last time she would see him. Will's hands cupped the back of her legs and lifted her up to him, legs wrapped around his waist, her lovely breasts at his eye level.

As he carried Emma towards the living room, placing kisses on over the lace that covered her nipples, her body moved against his seductively, inching lower to feel the slight bulge in his jeans and she worked on removing his belt successfully. Her chest heaved with his assault of kisses on her chest and before he had even lowered her onto the mattress, her bra had been discarded of and his jeans were halfway down his legs. As he rested himself above her, she rid him of his jeans with her feet, gliding the soles of her delicate feet over his calves. She could feel him, _God she could feel him_, his length pressed into her panties through his boxers, and he was wild above her. His hands travelled over her body fast and hard, discovering every inch of her and she wondered for a second if that's what her first time would be like. After he quickly removed his boxers and practically tore her panties from her hips, his hand worked its way between her legs and he rubbed his palm against her in the way he knew she enjoyed. Emma knew that if it was dirty and rough, she would enjoy that very much and the way he was kissing her entire body set her on fire that ceased all coherent thought, anyway.

Though, after his had teased her and fiercely ran his gentle hands over her most intimate places, he met her eyes and the desire and lust that had been flaring in his own dissolved into something greater that she couldn't have anticipated if she wanted to. He stopped and took her in, her naked body beneath his, unsure and inexperienced, and her own gaze faltered, drifting lower and landing on his length and she swallowed in shock as her honest self transpired through her complete vulnerability.

"I've never seen another man's..." her eyes were downcast, her eyes adoring his length. "You're beautiful, Will."

His chest ached with her innocence and he gently pushed her onto the mattress, straddling her lightly and his erection brushed over her core softly, causing her to whimper in frustration.

He had felt her body, her breasts, her core, but this was the first time he had seen her, too. The glow from the fireplace lit the bright red hair between her legs on fire and his eyes locked on hers for a moment before he lowered his head and placed a gentle kiss to the top of her pubic bone, a gesture which caused her to tangle her fingers of one hand in his hair, the other hand fisted in her own strands that rested above hair head, spread out on the mattress in waves like a halo.

His kisses moved lower in awe, his lips discovering the woman of his dreams in the most intimate way. He made love to her entire core with his soft kisses, his tongue remaining behind closed lips, but as he rested his lips upon her naked, sensitive nub, her body shook and her hips lifted of their own accord, prompting his lips to open and close over her clit, his tongue darting out to stroke her.

"Touch me." It was a needy plea, but Emma couldn't give it a second thought as her lower torso arched toward his mouth. His hand that wasn't resting on her right thigh travelled over her rib cage, teasingly past her breast and his fingertips trailed lightly over her neck until they met her own that rested in her halo of hair. Are their fingers linked, so too did their eyes, remembering every moment that they had almost given in and hadn't, going home to touch themselves to the fantasy of the other.

He sucked at her bundle of nerves and he felt her quiver and squirm and become wet, and he needed to be inside of her. When his mouth left her suspended in pleasure, he moved up her body and rested his arousal on her stomach and her eyes widened as his lips rested on the corner of her mouth.

"I just need to get the..." He moved off of her and reached to the side of the mattress, ripping the condom open as he balanced on his knees. She sat up on the mattress and watched him roll it on. Their eyes locked and she reached out hesitantly, but then retracted her hand. He watched her suck on her bottom lip as she casted her gaze to her toes and he reached for her fingertips, as he leant over her once again, causing her to fall back onto the mattress. Emma was trusting him with everything, and he was giving her himself so sweetly.

He captured her small hand with his own large one and guided her to feel his erection that rested between their bodies. His hand closed around hers and she dragged her fist over his length, and his hand fell away. Her grasp immediately loosened and he thought she would shy away, but she didn't.

Instead, her fingers trailed over the condom and travelled over his head, feeling warmth and sex overcome her body. She wanted him inside her body.

"Make love to me, Emma." Her eyes shot up to meet Will's at his request and her insides contracted at his breathy tone. All the times he had turned her horny beyond belief, made her soak through her panties and caused her to shudder in his arms, nothing could compare to the tension that her body now felt as they lay before the fireplace.

She rested her body completely still on the mattress as her legs moved from under his and anchored him to her as her bent knees rested high on either side of his hips. Her hand guided his erection to her opening and their eyes locked as he slowly pushed forward, his eyes not on hers, but watching their bodies join.

As he began to slip into her, she was the blushing virgin. They both held their breaths tightly, discovering every sensation that their bodies pleasured one another with. He had never felt anything as soft as her skin, but as he slid into the wet, silky texture of her core, he understood that every imperfection she had made him utterly perfect.

It felt so unbelievably good to finally be inside her in every possible way. She was tight, so amazingly tight, and his lips crashed boyishly into hers, clumsy in his own state of complete vulnerability, trying to remind her that he was here with her. Her lips met his warmly, but when his lips left hers, her head lolled to the side and tears brimming in her eyes.

"Emma, you have to relax."

She was nodding, her head turned to the side and her face contorted and confused, anything but sexy, but as Will looked down at her, his heart filled with more profound emotion than he thought he could handle. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he had waited forever to see her beneath him, her body encompassing him.

She was clenching her muscles around him, obviously trying to make her pain go away, but every time her insides gripped him he was sure he couldn't hold on any longer, even though he had only been inside her for less than two minutes.

He promised her with his eyes that he would give her time to adjust to everything she was feeling, and he did. They stayed like that, him still inside of her, his mouth caressing her chest for close to ten minutes. It was a first for both of them; he had never been still inside of somebody and nobody had ever been inside of her.

After a while her hands began to trace the curves of his biceps and she shifted lower beneath him, causing him to push inside her more that he already was.

He let out a groan that almost scared her and in her confusion her insides caressed him in a tight grip again. His mouth fell open in pleasure and as the words fell from his lips, "Sweetheart, you have to stop that for a moment or you're gonna make me..."

She did it again, but this time with seductive intent, just to see what she could do to him. She discovered the power that she had as a woman and Emma raised her hips slowly as she began to relax.

"I'm going to make you what?" She knew, but she wanted to hear his definition, because he was so much more experienced at delivering his feelings in such intimate moments than she.

He grunted his reply. "Let go."

"Please don't let go." Her hand swept over his sweaty forehead and rested on his jaw line, her thumb tracing the outline of his lips lovingly.

"I won't." He placed a soft kiss to the tip of her nose as their eyes met shyly, conveying every emotion they felt and their happiness in being afforded this opportunity.

And so they found themselves there, their deepest desires coming to life in the ultimate way.

"God, this feels amazing." The devotion in his words left him unguarded to her, but she was pleased to be doing something right, even though she was barely moving.

"Did you ever think about how it would feel?" She didn't quite have the hang of it yet. She looked content; she was definitely enjoying it; but she wasn't as turned on as he would have like her to have been. He scattered a flurry of kisses on the soft skin of her throat when she breathed the query, so her question was somewhat curious, not spoken with the intent to be sexy.

"Yes." His truthful answer prompted her further.

"What did you want it to be like?" she whispered to him hotly.

He buried his face in her neck, using all of his willpower to not give in at her tone. "Like this. Hot. Tight. Wet."

"Yeah?" she squeaked in arousal. It felt nice, having a warm body inside of her; pleasant.

"Yeah..." He continued to thrust, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Sometimes I would wrap my hand around myself and just imagine it was your hand."

"Really?" She sounded slightly shocked and innocent.

His hands ran along her legs, the soft skin beneath his palms causing him to emit a moan. "God, Emma. You're so sweet."

Will's lips closed around the perfect curve of her throat and he moans again, causing her to arch up into him as his fingers trailed across her flat abdomen. Her nipples were so erect that when he slid his face lower, a nub caught between his lips and he sucked it hard.

While hie payed special attention to the curves of her body, something clicked within her and her face flushed in pleasure.

"I didn't know it was like this... this hot." She panted. "I feel like I'm on fire."

"Yes." He gathered her in his arms and couldn't help but to pound into her a little deeper, hearing her squeak as he brought her leg up higher around his back.

"Oh god." The utterance left her lips in a tone or caution and his attention was directed entirely to her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He slowed his pace, unsure if she was aroused or afraid.

"I can't..." Her hands left their position on his biceps and grasped onto the edge of the mattress above her head.

"You can't what?" By now he knew that she was aroused, but he had no idea what she meant.

"I don't know...You're pushing against something. It..." She let out the loudest, most erotic moan he had ever heard escaped her lips and he had to think of Sue Sylvester playing golf to stop from coming inside of her.

"It's okay, Emma."He knew he had hit her g-spot and he wanted to tell her, because he was so damn excited, and when he's usually excited about something, she is the first person he delivers the news to.

"You feel that, Em?" She nodded and mumbled something incomprehensible. "That's your G-spot."

"Do it again, Will. Touch it again." She panted and he pushed into her again on the same angle, feeling the tip of his manhood rubbing against her pleasure spot as her nails raked up his spine and her back arched on the mattress.

Her hips were rotating beneath his when he said it, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

"Touch me, Emma." Her hands wandered over his chest and her lips met his and he stopped moving inside her and just kissed her, long and drawn out. And then he started moving again, his hands on her waist, anchoring her to the mattress.

He buried his face in her fiery curls as he moved faster, her calves tight around his lower back.

"I want to marry you." It trails from his mouth in a litany of other secrets and her heart swelled as she sighed contentedly, bringing him harder inside of her with her tightening muscles.

"I'm in love with you, Will."

And with that, her deepest confession uttered with such honesty, she heared her own words. He sliped a hand between them and found her clit. He pressed his finger softly on the little nub and his lovers eyes widened and her lips trembled and she arched up so seductively, grabbing his ass softly. As she pushed him deeper inside of her with her fingers on his rear, he felt her fingernails digging into his skin and he realised just how desperate he was.

"Come, Emma. I love you. Please, come for me."

She appeared as though she may have passed out from pleasure and he could feel her insides begin to tremor, so he manipulated her clit with his finger more softly as he teased her with his words.

"I want to watch you come around me."

And she did. Her mouth opened in shock as she experienced what was perhaps the most powerful orgasm of her life, with Will moving inside her and his lips clamped around her nipple. When he felt her beginning to let go, he brought his face up to watch her, her eyes wide and penetrating his loving gaze. Never in his life had he imagined she would look like this in her moment of complete abandon. Her legs shook around him and her chest convulsed and a breathless scream escaped her lips as he pushed down harder on her bundle of nerves. The way her insides stroked him in contractions was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he managed to hang on as he watched her body relax in the sexiest way.

It would be a lie to say that he wasn't proud, being the one and only man to ever make Emma come. But then that pride escalated as her orgasm finished and she continued to rotate her hips and he realised just how much stamina he needed. Her face conveyed every ounce of pleasure that had overcome her body and he wanted to make her come again.

He thrust into her twice more before she moaned and her fingernails gripped his shoulders almost painfully, her walls contracting around him again and his name left her lips in a prayer.

He watched her breathing slow and as he buried his face between her breasts, she tightened her thighs around his hips and pushed him deeper inside her. "You can let go now, Will."

Emma placed her hands on the backs of his thighs and sucked on the shell of his ear, holding him to her as she moved her body beneath him. And then, his sweet, blushing virgin muttered in his ear a confession that almost made him black out.

"I've wanted to feel you inside me, pounding into me for as long as I can remember." He thrust harder and he could feel it; he was close. Her breathing indicated the same thing and he nearly came at the pride he felt that he could make her orgasm for a third time. He wanted to bring her multiple orgasms for the rest of their sex life.

"I know you touch yourself and think of me." She continued. "I do the same. It would feel so good to put my fingers inside myself and imagine they were yours. Now I never have to imagine. I can have you inside of me whenever I want."

At that thought, that he could spend forever with her, his release found him in one powerful thrust, causing her to scream softly in her in release and a series of groans to emit from his mouth, which he covered her own with mid orgasm. She was shaking and he was shuddering and she could feel his warm release guarded within her as he collapsed upon her naked body.

Their bodies were sweaty and sated after years of longing and unguarded desire. Finally, they had given each other everything and now the next chapter of their lives could be written in honour of everything that had occurred in their relationship as of now.

And as Will turned to his lover, his soul mate and his best friend, he knew that in the heat of the moment, the things that had been said would have to be discussed.

But as they lay there in the glow of the fireplace, one word left his lips as a grin formed over hers.

"Hi."

And an introduction was recognised.

AN: I hope this met everybody's expectations. There is more coming (pun intended, again), so don't think this is the end because there are some important things that need to be cleared up, too. This was definitely the hardest chapter to write and the longest, so please leave a review if you have any comments. Thank you so much for reading and I hope this chapter was somewhat rewarding.


	12. Emotion

Expectation was the driving force in Emma's life, but from the moment she had felt Will moving inside of her, hitting that spot that caused her chest to constrict in pleasure and her thighs to tighten around his hips, emotion overwhelmed her completely.

She watched him fall asleep, his body peaceful and sated, his breaths evenly paced. She could still feel him inside her, remembering how it had happened, how scared she had been throughout the entire act.

As she stood before the bathroom mirror in the dark blue night, her hands wandered over her chest. There were red marks on her pale skin from where Will had lovingly assaulted her body with his affections and her reflection screamed back at her as soft tears fell from her eyes.

She had never felt whole as a person, and it sounded pathetic, especially to a guidance counsellor, but it was true. Now, this image of herself was loved and wanted and desired and it made her heart swell in admiration for herself. She loved being like this, feeling how she did and wanting what she could so plainly have.

And she did. She had it all. All she could ever want.

"Emma?"

"I'll be out in a minute." Her hands swatted up to brush the tears away with the back of her hand, but as she focused on the illustration before her, her eyes shot down to her abdomen. She was thin, and her figure was definitely curvy in the right places. Her stomach was flat and pale and she had loved the way Will had rested his lips over the taught skin for a long time, causing the realisation to occur that Will Schuester definitely had a fetish for petite curves. Ever so slowly, in a dream-like state, her thin, bony fingers rested below her navel and for a few seconds, Emma allowed herself to believe that they hadn't used protection tonight, that a part of her lover was still inside of her. It was juvenile, but it was also so, so lovely.

Snapping out of her haze, she opened the bathroom door, clad only in her nakedness at one a.m.

He was waiting for her, resting against the wall in the hallway, his eyes boring into hers as she swung the door open. Tear stains coated her pale cheeks and the look on his face immediately changed from happiness to worry. He didn't reach out for her, though, knowing all too well how she would react to the emotional aftershocks of sex.

She parted her lips to speak, but no words escaped but for a strangled noise. He cocked an eyebrow carefully, waiting for her to attempt to explain her own perplexity.

"I...I just have so many feelings that I don't understand right now." Two more tears travelled down her cheeks, one resting in the space between her lips as the other fell to the cliff of her jaw, dangling for a moment until she reached up and wiped it away.

"Like what, honey?" His tone was soft, his whispered question caring and understanding. "Are you upset about what happened?"

"No, no. God, no. It was so wonderful and you made me feel so good." She blushes. "It was just a lot to take in."

"Of course it is, Emma." His hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "And there's so much more to deal with when there are feelings involved. Like us. That was very powerful, Emma."

Her eyes met his, confused and completely innocent and her shoulders slumped in defeat as she bit her bottom lip in honesty. "What we did tonight was exhausting."

"It sure was," his grin could have lit up the darkest of rooms. "But it was also pretty brilliant."

"Yeah." She dabbed at the corner of her eye with the tissue and grinned, her eyes downcast as she focused on the tissue rather than the man that she would one day make a wife to.

"Thank you for sharing that with me", he whispered. "I haven't felt that way in such a long time."

"Really?" her timid voice questioned in a matching whisper.

"I've never felt that way." Their eyes locked in complete and burning passion, his thankful for letting him love her, and hers grateful for his bruises on her skin.

"Sex isn't usually like that, Emma." His absolute seriousness threw her off balance, his meaning lost in her world of self-consciousness.

Her features darkened in alarm and embarrassment as his face appeared unreadable. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. You did something so right." His lips came to rest on her forehead and confusion overwhelmed her features as they relaxed, her nose scrunched up in the most gorgeous way he had ever seen.

"Emma the way you let go, really let go, when we were making love, it...it was so beautiful-and completely sexy."

"I was sexy?" She leant against the door at his confident confession and her eyes closed as she attempted to take it all in.

As he watched her lids slip closed, he gently leant forward to place a kiss to each eyelid, punctuating each syllable with a soft kiss. "You were so hot."

Her body shivered in arousal and assurance as his hot breath came to rest in her hair and his arms circled around her frail waist. Standing there, in her lovers arms, she knew who she was in the world, and she wanted so much more. _Is this what her life would always be like?_ _Would she always feel complete in knowing that there was so much more to desire and that she could be safe and protected while she waited?_

"You said some things, Will. When we were making love you said that you wanted to marry-"

"I do. Not just yet, but I do. I want to have it all."

The grin that settled upon Emma's pink lips was lovely, radiating her happiness in the realisation that somebody wanted to spend their life with her; to build a life with her. And what better way to show him what she too wanted than to voice her deepest thoughts?

Her small hand came to rest on his jaw line, caressing the soft skin with her thumb. "I want to go home tomorrow and I want to move in with you."

"Okay." His grin was wide and her hand that had slipped from his jaw to rest over his heart could feel the pressure building inside of him.

"And then I want to make love to you. I want to make love to you again." At this spoken desire that left her lips in a shy breath, he nodded vigorously.

Her head tilted to the side in the darkness of the hallway. "And then I want you to ask me to marry you; properly."

Her professional tone could be discovered beneath the depth of her words, her honest and calculating personality decided in knowing exactly what she wanted from him. "Sure."

"And then, after all of that," her hand waved in the air in dismissive humour, "Then, I want to have a family."

His smile faltered "No."

"What?" Her ambivalent tone registered in his mind as he further emphasised his point.

"No."

"Excuse me?" Her questions of shock swam in his head as another part of his brain attempted to piece together exactly what he wanted to say without hurting the woman who had given herself to him wholeheartedly hours before.

"No order, Emma. Love doesn't need order."

Their eyes locked as she whispered a sweet apology in acceptance. "Okay."

"Okay?"

Then she whispered something that touched his very soul more so than her whimpered requests for _more, more, harder, more_ hours before.

"I just need you."

Sometimes change can come at the most remarkable of times, when love is confused and hope has yet to find its distance from reality. Sometimes, when you aren't looking for it, change can be _exactly_ what you need. Most of the time, change happens to be exactly what you have been searching for your whole life.

**AN**: I hope everyone has enjoyed this fic, as it has now come to an end. I'm starting to work on a new fic titled 'Just Like That' and a new chapter will be posted in a few hours. Everyone has been so lovely in leaving reviews for this story and I hope that you enjoyed spending your time reading Will and Emma's journey. Thank you so much for your time and responses!


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