Chapter Text
“This cannot happen again,” Regina says, voice rough and out of breath.
Panting on Regina’s neck and leaving goosebumps in her wake, Emma pauses, her chest momentarily burning with a small thread of panic as she fights the urge to kiss that spot behind her ear again. Then, she moves away slightly, searching Regina’s face for the real answer. They both know this is going to happen again. Her mouth is already a few inches away from hers once more, and it doesn’t look like Regina wants her to step away.
“Well, stop coming here whenever you’re annoyed about something I did not do then,” Emma replies to her, only then detangling her hands from Regina’s thighs and taking a step back. She sighs, looking at the strewn papers and pens they left in their wake. Even the old phone is off the hook. “Or this is what happens.” She motions to the desk and the very disheveled mayor on top of it with an amused smirk.
“You’re as much to blame as I am, Sheriff Swan.” Regina huffs, patting her hair to set it back into place. Emma messed it up at some point while they made out like horny teenagers. Her fault for being so damn infuriating.
(And isn’t it satisfying when later Regina has to fish for a compact in her purse to fix her smudged lipstick?)
Emma rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Are we done here?”
Pulling her from her jacket’s lapel, Regina kisses her again, hard and demanding, and Emma can’t quite stop her moan from coming out, damn her. She can almost feel Regina’s irritatingly smug aura when they part, her eyes dark and lips swollen. “Yes, we are,” Regina replies, her hot breath on Emma’s mouth causing her to shiver. Just like she pulled her in, Regina easily shoves her away, her high-heels touching the floor and purse on her arm.
“I need those reports on my desk tomorrow morning.” She struts out of Emma’s office, like they’d finished a very normal budget meeting. Composed and collected. Beautifully irritating.
And Emma hates her. That’s definitely what her fluttering stomach is telling her. Hatred and annoyance and maybe a tiny bit of lust in there, too. She hates how messy this is; what it’s become, this thing they’re doing — what would even happen if anyone found out? If Henry—
Emma hates how much she craves it.
It’s a good thing she stops by the bathroom afterwards, because she has to wipe her mouth clean of crimson red lipstick, and it’s sort of impossible not to think of Regina again, cheeks flushed in embarrassment and anger and arousal, too.