When I see Emma round the corner, she nearly takes my breath away. In a dark green, vintage-style dress with a black bow around her waist, dark heels, and a white sweater, she's stunning. The cool, porcelain skin of her face is framed by loose tendrils of her raven black hair, and her lips, painted a vibrant shade of red, look plump and inviting – it's all I can do to not stand up, run to her, and press my mouth to hers.

As the hostess departs, I stand up and step around the table, careful to camouflage my growing erection. I hold the chair out and gesture for her to have a seat. She hesitates for a moment, and I'm half-convinced she's going to turn and run, but she takes a deep breath and sits down. I push her chair in and walk back around to my own seat.

“You're the new publisher?” she asks.

“In the flesh.”

I pour her a glass of sake, then refill my own. Picking up my glass, I raise it to her. Emma bites her bottom lip – I'm still not totally convinced she isn’t going to bolt – and eventually, picks up her glass. She gives me a long, even look, her dark eyes boring into mine, and I feel my heart swell – not to mention, other parts of my lower anatomy.

“To new beginnings,” I toast.

“Is that what this is?”

I purse my lips and nod before giving her a meaningful look. “Yeah. In a lot of ways.”

We both down our glass of sake. Emma grimaces and sets her glass down.

“Wow,” she says. “That's – interesting.”

“You've never had sake before?”

She shakes her head and brings her napkin to her mouth, coughing a bit, but laughing at the same time.

“I took the liberty of ordering some things already,” I say. “But, look at the menu, and if you see something you'd like, just let me know.”

“Thank you,” she replies.

A few moments later, the waitress comes out, setting bowls of steaming Miso soup down in front of us, and a couple of large plates filled with all kinds of wraps and rolls.

“I suggest we enjoy a little food first, business after,” I say.

Emma laughs, an enchanting noise. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

We dig into the plates of food, each of us devouring everything in front of us. We order more and consume all of that as well. To look at us, you'd think we haven't eaten in years. The conversation over dinner is light, superficial chit-chat. But hey, at least she's not screaming at me, so I take that as a win.

Eventually, both of us are too stuffed to go on. We push our plates away and sit back in our seats. I know my belly feels like it's about to explode, and judging by the way she's groaning, I imagine hers does too.

“It's been so long since I've had good sushi,” she moans.

“You need to treat yourself now and then,” I say.

I see her jaw clench, and a tightness in her face – I obviously said the wrong thing again.

“Not all of us have that luxury.”

“Yeah, I suppose not,” I say softly. “Sorry.”

She takes a drink of her water and sits up, her dark eyes burning holes through me. I'm guessing the pleasant part of our meal is over, and now it's time to get down to business. Time to get down to the real reason we're here.

“Did you really buy the paper just to give me my job back?” she asks. “What the hell, Brice?”

“No, I bought the paper as an investment opportunity,” I reply. “I told you I was looking for the next challenge in my life.”

“Oh, and it just so happened to be the paper I was fired from?”

“Call it serendipitous,” I say. “Our interests aligned.”

“Seriously, you don't find that the least bit creepy?” she asks. “That you spent – who knows how much – to buy a paper on its last legs, just to give me a job?”

“There's more to it than that,” I say. “But, I also happen to think you're enormously talented, and that you deserve a platform like the Times Daily.”

“It would have been a lot cheaper if you'd just asked me out on a date, Brice.”

“Would you have said yes?”

“Probably not,” she says with a smirk.

“Well then, I had no choice but to buy the paper.”

“That seems a bit manipulative.”

“Not really,” I reply. “You're not under any obligation to come back. I promise. I can't force you to write for the paper.”

“No, you can't.”

The waitress comes back and asks us if we'd like dessert. Both of us, stuffed far beyond our limits, decline. She leaves the check and a small plate of oranges before departing again.

“Why are you doing this?” she asks.

“Because you deserve a break,” I say. “You have a ton of talent – talent, I think your old editor didn't seem to know how to maximize.”

“Speaking of Helen, what happened to her?”

“I fired her.”

She stares at me for a long moment. “Why? What did she do?”

“My personal feeling is that she allowed the paper to flounder,” I say, answering her question honestly. “She was still stuck in the twentieth century. So, as time moved on, the paper got further and further behind the curve. I'm going to change that, and I'd really like you to be a part of it, Emma.”

“Do you even know anything about running a paper?”

I shake my head. “Not much. But I'm learning. And I'm putting the right people around me, to not only guide the paper but teach me as well.”

“Why is it so important that I come back?”

I take a sip of my water and ponder the question for a minute. “Honestly, I want to atone for some things,” I say. “I know I was an asshole when I was younger. I want to make up for some of what I did. Also, like I said earlier, I think you deserve a break. I think you have a lot of potential and I want to give you a platform to grow it.”

She looks taken aback by my comment for a moment. Emma looks off and seems to be pondering the offer in her head. Finally, she looks back at me, and I can tell by the stubborn set to her jaw, that she's ready to start negotiating.

“I want total autonomy,” she says. “I want to be able to pick the stories I chase, and I don't want to be confined to police blotter garbage. Ever again.”

“Done,” I say.

“I mean it. Helen spiked more of my stories than I can count,” she says. “I don't want Ava Drake telling me what I can and can't write about.”

“I don't have a problem with that,” I say. “I think, doing the type of work you do, you need a certain degree of freedom. You should be able to go where the story takes you. I do have one condition though.”

She arches an eyebrow. “And what is that?”

“That you never put yourself in harm's way,” I instruct, my voice resolute. “That you never do something stupid that can get you hurt.”

She hesitates, but only for a moment. “Done.”

“Good,” I say. “Is that it? That's all you want?”

“Other than a fat paycheck?”

I chuckle. “We'll have to negotiate your salary, of course,” I say. “For that, I'm going to need Ava's input.”

She looks at me for a long moment. “You know she's not going to like the fact that you're giving me final authority over my stories.”

I shrug. “She works for me. She can learn to deal with it.”

“Yeah, this should be fun,” Emma says. “She already resents me because you’ve forced me on her.”

“Actually, you might be surprised,” I say. “Ava is tough, but she likes you. She thinks you've got talent. I got the impression that she respects you. But, she's like you – independent to the core, and insistent on doing things her way.”

Emma nods. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“But, I'll tell you what I told her,” I say, holding her gaze firmly. “My paper, my rules. If I even get a whiff of you doing something stupid that puts your safety in jeopardy, I will pull you off that story so fast, your head will spin. And after that, I'll bench you until you can prove to me that you learned your lesson and won't do it again. Do you understand me?”

“Yeah, I understand,” she mutters.

“Let me hear you say it.”

She gives me a wry grin and raises her hand like she's taking an oath. “I solemnly swear that I won't do something stupid and put myself in harm's way,” she says. “Happy now?”

“It's a start,” I say as I drop some cash on the table. “Let's get out of here.”

We step outside into the cool October air. She shivers and wraps her arms around herself tighter. I take off my jacket and drape it around her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she says.

“You're welcome.”

As we stand there, I turn toward the beach side of PCH, and see that in the ocean-level parking lot, there's a fair going on. There are a few rides, a midway, and enough lights to be seen from space. The sound of carnival music saturates the air and is punctuated by the sound of laughter and screaming.

I turn to Emma and give her a smile. “Do you have to go home right now?”

Her cheeks flush, and she doesn’t meet my eyes for a few seconds. When she looks up, I feel my breath catch in my throat. Her piercing, bottomless eyes are filled with so much emotion, I can tell that the hostility and animosity she felt for me has evaporated. At least, for now.

It's a welcome change, and one that sets my heart racing a little faster.

“No, I guess not,” she says.

“Come on,” I say.

I take her hand as we walk to the crosswalk across from the pier. When the light changes, we're caught in a throng of people. I catch Emma looking at our hands joined together with something like an expression of wonder on her face. She looks happy. Like this is something she's wanted for a long time.

And that's when it finally clicks for me. She was so upset with me for disappearing so long ago, because she liked me. She was upset that I vanished because she had a crush on me. That realization makes things so much more understandable – and deep inside, I feel like a total prick for doing that to her.

Not that I knew at the time. And even if I had known, Emma was a child at that point. I was a grown man. Yeah, there's still a difference between us, but it doesn’t seem as extreme now that we’re both adults. And while I can't speak for Emma, I know that I'm powerfully attracted to her. Right here, right now.

We pass a sign announcing the Huntington Beach Halloween Festival. There's a pumpkin patch, and everything else you could imagine wanting at a carnival. We walk down the long ramp that takes us to the ticket booth, and we buy our entry tickets and step into the fair.

The air around us is saturated with the aroma of a thousand different sweet treats – most of them fried, of course.

“We're going to have to clear some space in our bellies, because I want some deep-fried Oreos,” I say.

Emma laughs, a high-pitched melodic sound that is music to my ears. “What are you, five-years-old?”

“I am just a kid at heart,” I say.

“Clearly,” she replies and laughs.

We stroll down the midway, and I notice that she hasn't let go of my hand yet. And I'm not inclined to make her. We play a few carnival games, and I win her a teddy bear in the football toss game.

“That really doesn’t seem fair,” she says, and chuckles.

I give her a grin. “The games are rigged anyway. I just found a way to beat the system.”

Kids in costumes run around us, screaming and laughing with delight. I watch them sprint down the midway, and once again, that thought creeps into my head about leaving a legacy for my child. I look over at Emma and quickly push the thought away. Yeah, we're getting along right now, but I also know this ceasefire could be temporary.

It's an uneasy truce that's only further complicated by the fact that now, I'm technically her boss.

That doesn't stop me from wanting her, though. Just being near Emma, feeling her hand in mine, breathing in the scent of her hair, brings back all the memories from the last time we were together. Snippets of sex with her flash through my mind like a highlight reel and leave me wanting more. So much more.

“Let's go ride the Ferris wheel,” she suggests.

“Let's do it.”

We make our way over to the line for the Ferris wheel. It's not a long line, and we're loaded onto it pretty quickly. Which is good, because I can’t stand waiting in lines. The door to our car closes, and a moment later, my stomach drops as we begin to ride to the top. I grip the side of the car for all I'm worth as the car shimmies and sways.

Emma laughs out loud. “I did not know this would scare you.”

“It's not the Ferris wheel,” I say. “It's the idea of plunging to our death from this high up that scares me.”

“I'd say it scares you a lot,” she teases.

“Yeah, you're a funny girl,” I say, swallowing hard as a gust of wind rocks the car.

We get to the very top of the wheel, and it stops, leaving us stranded there. I shift in my seat uncomfortably and attempt to control the bile rising in my gut. I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly, trying to calm myself.

“Wow, you really don't like heights, do you?” she asks.

“Not a huge fan of them, no.”

Emma surprises me by leaning over and pressing her lips to mine. She pulls me closer to her, parting her lips, allowing me to slide my tongue into her mouth. She grips my shirt, and I run my fingers through her hair, as our kiss grows in intensity and desire. Our tongues move together in a sinuous rhythm that sends all the blood in my body rushing south.

Slowly, she loosens her grip on my shirt, pulling back just as the wheel starts moving again, taking us down.

“Got your mind off it, didn't it?” she smiles.

“Pretty efficiently,” I reply. “I almost want to go around again, just for a repeat performance. I think that is an excellent strategy to help me conquer my fears.”

Emma chuckles and playfully slaps me on the arm, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes still filled with that curiously inscrutable, mystery emotion.

We get off the ride and spend the next couple of hours wandering around the fair, enjoying all the kids in costumes, trying our hand at the pumpkin carving contest – and failing miserably – and simply enjoying each other's company.

“You know,” she says. “I've never been recruited for a job before. I think the most wooing a company ever did, was when Dairy Queen gave me a coupon for a free cone when I worked there for a summer when I was fifteen.”

I laugh. “Well, I wanted to pull out all the stops to get what I wanted.”

She turns and looks at me, an indescribable expression on her face. I hadn't intended for that to come out sounding the way it did. The funny thing is, Emma doesn't even seem particularly put off by it. In fact, if I had to judge, I'd say she looks like she's embracing it. So, I seize the moment.

“Come home with me.”

Continuing to hold my gaze, Emma nods.

Emma stands at the floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the back wall of my Newport Beach condo. The moon is high overhead, making the breakers crashing upon the shore seem to glow, and the ocean sparkle with a silvery radiance.

“It's beautiful,” she says.

I open the doors to let in some of the cool ocean breeze, and immediately, the air is thick with the sea salt. It's a scent I'll never grow tired of. It's why I can never leave the coast – I'd miss the ocean way too much.

Moving up behind her, I lean down and dot her long, graceful neck with a line of kisses. I slide my hands down to her waist and pull her back against me. She gasps, feeling the hardness of my cock pressing against her backside. Emma groans and grinds herself against me, which get me even harder.

I reach up and take hold of the zipper at the neckline of her dress. I kiss her neck, giving it a gentle bite as I slide the zipper down. Pushing it off her shoulders, it slips off her body, landing at her feet in a heap. Emma steps out of it and turns around. Never taking her eyes off mine, she reaches behind her and unclasps her bra.

She tosses it to the floor, leaving her standing there before me in nothing but a pair of black lace panties, thigh highs, and heels. She really is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I press my mouth to hers, kissing her hard, trying to make her feel every ounce of desire I have for her. Grabbing her hand, I move it down and have her to take hold of my hard cock through my pants.

Her gasp is muffled by our kiss, but she starts to grip and rub me through my slacks. I put my hands on her shoulders and push her down to her knees. Emma takes the hint, and quickly unbuttons my slacks, pushing them, along with my boxers, down to the middle of my thighs.

My rigid cock springs out, and Emma grabs it tightly. She looks up at me, a devilish smirk on her face as she leans forward and takes the head of my dick into her mouth. She runs her tongue all around it, teasing the sensitive underside as I moan softly at the sensations coursing through my body.

“Jesus, Emma.”

She takes as much of me into her mouth as she can, cupping my balls and giving them a firm squeeze as she deepthroats me. A low growl escapes my throat, and I'm suddenly gripping her hair, pulling on it, fire running through my veins as she pleasures me.

I know I can't let her keep this up, though. If I do, she's going to push me over the edge far sooner than I want. I step back and regretfully, pull my cock out of her mouth. I pick her up like she weighs nothing at all and carry her over to the couch. Setting her down on her feet, I lean down and push her panties down her legs. Emma does the rest of the work, wiggling out of them before kicking them off.

I push her down into a sitting position on the couch, falling to my knees in front of her. I raise both of her legs up on my shoulders before running the tip of my tongue up and down her wet, swollen lips. Emma calls my name softly, and grips my hair, pulling it hard as I push my tongue past her velvety folds, savoring the scent and taste of her exquisite pussy.

I start to lick her harder and faster, teasing her clit with my fingers as Emma writhes beneath me. She's gasping and thrashing about as I slip two fingers inside of her, pumping them in and out. Her moans and cries, the frantic way she moves – it only makes me want her more.

I double my efforts, licking and sucking on the warm, wet core of her. Emma shudders and cries out, calling my name. I lick and suck on her harder and faster. Her breathing is growing ragged, her body tightens beneath me, and I feel her body begin to tremor. She's about to come for me.

I lick and suck on her clit, my intensity and desire matching her own. Not even a minute later, Emma throws her head back and cries out as her orgasm rips through her. She calls my name, her voice echoing loudly around the room.

“God, that felt so amazing,” she says once she’s regained composure.

I grab the condom off the couch where I'd left it and tear open the package. I quickly unroll the condom down my thick cock and pull Emma to her feet. Taking a seat on the couch, I pull Emma back down onto my lap, making her straddle me. She kisses me hard, as she guides my cock to her opening. She parts her lips with the head, and moans as she slides herself down, taking me into her inch by inch. When she's taken as much of me as she can bear, she puts her hands on my shoulders and starts to rock up and down.

I reach out and cup her ass, squeezing it, and giving it a soft slap as I lean forward and take her stiff nipple into my mouth. I lick and suck on it, giving it a playful little bite that draws a yelp from Emma. She starts to bounce on my cock harder and faster than before. I reach up and pull her hair from behind, yanking her head back as she impales herself relentlessly upon my cock.

“Yes, baby,” I moan. “Fuck me. Ride me, Emma.”

She digs her nails into my shoulders and starts to fuck me even harder. Her breathing is ragged, but she continues bouncing in a hard, steady rhythm. Her eyes are squeezed shut, her jaw clenched, and she's groaning through gritted teeth.

“God, Brice,” she cries out. “Yes, yes, yes.”

I slap her ass again, making her squeal with pleasure.

“Harder,” I say.

Emma is groaning louder and louder as she starts to slam her ass up and down on me. She leans forward and kisses me, forcing her tongue into my mouth. We kiss, our bodies locked together in a carnal embrace, the sound of our bodies slapping together, combined with our moans of delight, creating an erotic symphony.

She starts to thrust down even harder than before and holds herself there as I use my thumb to massage her clit. A low groan escapes her throat, and I feel her body begin to tremble and shake. Her cries become stuttering gasps as she rakes her nails across the flesh of my shoulders, eliciting a low grunt from me.

“I – I'm coming, Brice. I'm coming again.”

“Come for me, Emma. I want to feel you,” I say. “I want to hear you.”

Emma stops, leaning forward, and pressed to my chest, as she begins to shake almost violently. She cries out so loudly I'm almost afraid my neighbors will hear us and call the police, thinking I'm in here strangling her or something.

Slowly, the shaking eases and her breathing returns to normal. When she looks up at me, her eyes are filled with lust, and her cheeks are flushed. I stand up and set Emma down on her feet before turning around and roughly bending her over the arm of the couch.

I grab her hands and pin them behind her back, and step forward, driving my cock into her without hesitation, drawing a long, shuddering gasp from Emma. She moans as I start to move my cock inside of her, pumping my hips, harder and faster.

I can already feel the pressure building up inside of me and know that I don't have much longer left before I explode. Emma grinds herself against me, taking my cock even deeper into her. With my free hand, I pop her across the ass again, earning another sharp cry, followed by a low moan.

With her hands pinned behind her back, all Emma can really do is stand there and let me fuck her. She's struggling to break my grasp, but I hold her tight.

I pound my cock into her again and again, reveling in the waves of ecstasy washing over me. The feeling of being inside of her is absolutely electric, and I feel my cock beginning to swell. It won't be long now.

I slow my rhythm, driving myself deeper into her instead, earning a loud gasp from Emma.

“God, yes,” she moans. “So good.”

She's right, it does feel so good. My body tenses up and I feel a shudder ripple through me. I moan low and call her name softly.

“Come for me, Brice,” she pants. “Come for me. Now.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my jaw, wanting to delay the inevitable – even if it's only for a few seconds. Releasing her hands finally, I grab her shoulders tightly, my fingers pressing hard into her flesh as I pull her back against me roughly.

The shudder that passes through me grows more pronounced, and before I know it, my cock is pulsing, and I explode inside of Emma. She cries out at feeling me shooting my seed into the condom inside of her.

We remain like that for several blissful moments, basking in the warm afterglow. With my heart rate and breathing slowly returning to normal, I step back and let my cock fall out of Emma. I strip off the condom and quickly move to the kitchen, where I toss it into the can.

Coming back into the living room, I find Emma standing in front of the windows, looking out at the ocean again. She's watching the silvery moonlight dancing upon the waves that are rolling in. I step up behind her, and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her against me.

“It's so beautiful,” she says, nodding to the ocean beyond the windows.

“You are,” I whisper into her ear, as I nuzzle her neck. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

Emma leans against me, resting her head on my shoulder. And we stand like that, bodies pressed to one another, relishing how it feels to be together.

Cherishing what we've found in one another.