Their secrets shared, their relationship repaired, Beckett tells Castle if he'll feed her she has something for him. (The cleaner version)
Song: "Touch Me", sung by Katharine McPhee, written for the TV show "Smash"
Disclaimer: Own nothing, but the words.
Touch Me
The strike of a match is heard around the loft, providing a soft glow from the candles. The aroma of basil and rosemary wafts upward, infiltrating his senses and exciting his taste buds. The call from Kate had set him in motion, preparing a relaxing evening for his partner. It had been a rough week, harsh words exchanged in the wake of secrets, lies and betrayals coming to light. Their path had been challenged, their trust in one another tested to the brink of destruction, but their unrequited love with hope of a future and need for one another's friendship prevented a complete shattering.
Two days ago they'd parted ways, the aftermath cutting deep. A few texts later they were face-to-face, explanations, I'm sorrys, the hurt soothed. With everything out in the open they could now move forward with no need to look back, their partnership remaining intact. Tonight she'd called with a plan, feed me then I have something for you. His mind raced, but she would always be a mystery to him, never quite able to uncover her inner layers. He waited with bated breath, nervous and unsure. Yes, they'd patched their tribulations, but what came next was an equation he couldn't solve alone. Would their friendship ever be the same? He wasn't sure.
The light rap on his door, announcing her arrival, had him checking his hair in the near-by mirror and flinging his apron over his shoulder, coming to rest on one of the bar stools surrounding his kitchen island. Worried, but ready to face her now that their grievances were behind them, he traipses to the door. He takes a deep breath, but forgets to let it out as the opening door reveals a gloriously smiling Kate Beckett. He'd gasp if he were able, but first he must exhale to relieve his over-inflated lungs, which he does by way of a long sigh, followed by the sharp intake she deserves for her hotness. Adorned in a gorgeous knee-length red coat, black slacks and her typical power heels, wringing hands the only insight into a potentially nervous demeanor. She steps over his threshhold looking like a goddess, a wet goddess at that, with her long tendrals still fresh from a shower and he finds he has forgotten to breathe for a few beats, two fingers covering his lips to keep from saying something provocative as he stands, enchanted.
Handing him her coat, she has just revealed an exquisite white silk blouse, doing very little to conceal the black lace underneath, the extra popped button not helping matters either as the attempted "Hey" gets lodged in his throat.
She notices his frozen posture, his eyes darting up and down her body, taking her in inch by inch. She watches his eyes widen as his nostrils flare with the first scent of her purposely lathered on cherry lotion and conditioner. She's discovered how much it gets to him, the way his eyes glaze over during their morning coffee hand-off…the scent is usually freshest then…and she loses the battle against her betraying smile as she thinks back to her earlier preparation for this evening, practically bathing in it before coming to see him. Showing up with her hair still wet might have been a little much for him as she's pretty sure he hasn't taken a breath since that first bouquet tickled his nostrils, can't seem to enunciate words.
She places a bottle of wine in his hands and pats him on the shoulder in passing as she throws back, "You gonna feed me, or what?"
That must awaken his senses as he sucks in a long breath, lays her coat to the side and pivots to follow her. "Yep, your feast is served, My Lady." His hand sweeping the table.
He holds her chair out as they prepare for dinner and she quirks an eyebrow at his sudden excess of manners, but she knows he all but worships her so it's not an act, it's just him. "Mmmm. Smells good," she hums and they immediately fall into their comfortable banter, allowing him to finally relax…yes, they are ok.
Dishes done, wine glasses in hand, movie night primed and ready…play only need be pressed…their feet point in the direction of his couch. Following close behind he recognizes the air of tension returning within her stiffened posture, radiating off her in waves of stress as she turns to face him.
Shyly she asks, "Would you be terribly disappointed if we changed our plans for this evening?"
She knows him well enough to know he's happy with anything she wants to do so he can't imagine why she's asking, and with such blatantly exposed nervousness at that, so he cautiously replies, "Anything you want, Kate." He adds a smile for reassurance.
She places her glass on the coffee table then heads for the entryway of the loft as panic rises in his throat at her hinted departure, wondering what he did wrong. Stopping by the door she reaches into her coat pocket, fumbling for a moment she withdraws, the sought after possession in hand and a wicked gleam in her eye, supported by the devilish grin splitting her face as she turns back to him. Her new-found confidence has him breathing easy again, but with contemplated curiousness, watching her rotate the dimmer switch, leaving the room partially in shadows and only a dim glow elsewhere as she meanders back.
Deftly manipulating his CD player, she places her disc into the #1 slot while removing Lady Gaga, shooting him a curious look as she hits play.
The sound of an unfamiliar 80's dance beat fills the air. As the music overtakes the silence, her body mimics the beat, hips swaying, hands roaming through her hair, lifting it off her neck, displaying the long curves normally hidden from his view. It's the most errotic scene his eyes have ever witnessed. His own wildest dreams couldn't have conjured up the exhibition before him and the words are beginning to reveal their affect as beads of sweat slowly trickle down his back, dipping below the waist of his jeans. She's having a carnal affect on other areas of his body as well, reaching for a throw pillow he slides it, nonchalantly, over his lap. God isn't helping his control with the light show flashing through his windows behind her, is it raining, he's not sure as waves of color show themselves within the room during each flash then vanish every few seconds only to flash again, making it appear as though she's encompassed within a fractal rainbow for short bursts, a celestial glow surrounding her silhouette as her body sways in and out of the shadows with the sinful rhythm vibrating from his sound system. In the back of his mind he vaugely contemplates the weather, but with only a few random brain cells remaining available to devote to his musings, the stray thoughts quickly evaporate from his brain.
His mouth is parched and his mind, no longer capable of thinking in full sentences as the words of the song Beckett is seductively swaying too are all that are tumbling around in his dazed head. Her angelic voice, the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.
Look at me baby
Tell me, tell me what you see? (oh wow)
Wanna watch baby like a like a movie screen (oh wow)
Gonna get what I want
Want you on your knees (oh wow)
Give it up, baby
Don't you, don't you make a scene (oh oh wow)
So come and turn me on
Baby, be my Marlon Brando
Take a good snapshot
Get me from my better angle
Cause I like it hot
And you know I love a scandal
Tell me what you, what you waiting for?
Touch me (touch me)
I wanna feel you on my body
Put your hands on me
Come on and love me
You wanna get it boy
I'll give you to the count of three
Hold me closer
Don't wanna take it slow
I wanna go somewhere we can be alone
Touch me (touch me)
I wanna feel you on my body
Put your hands on me
As her fingers create a come hither motion, he finds he's drawn to her as if tethered by an invisible force, a puppet on a string, following the puppet master with each flick of the wrist and fingers.
Leaning towards her, his eyes widen as she slowly, like a cat, approaches him, stalking, the distance between them diminishing, his body at odds with his mind as he feels his control slipping. She draws him from the couch, but his brain fails to send the signal to his knees, telling them they should be holding his weight now and he finds himself on his knees before her as the song foretold. It's as if the lyrics falling effortlessly from her alluring mouth are a command he must obey. Heat beneath his palms snaps him back to temporary awareness, his hands having landed on her hips of their own accord as his knees finally straighten, bringing him to his feet. She hasn't shot him yet, but if he moves any closer, the length of his hardness pressing against her will ensure she does so. He tries to take a step back, but her hands wrapping around his neck has the opposite effect and suddenly her lithe body is pressed deliciously against every inch of him. Her glorious smile surprises him as he knows she isn't missing a thing about his predicament and yet he's miraculously still alive.
Leaning in close, her breath skates across his cheek as the ensuing lyrics cascade over him.
Do you like when I'm leaning leaning into you? (oh wow)
Close your eyes
Baby breathe in breathe in my perfume (oh wow)
Oh God, yes, leaning in, cherries…yes, he likes that very much. How can she expect his brain to function right now? His carefully crafted disciplinefading further into oblivion, his eyes glazed with lust, his love for her bubbling dangerously close to the surface.
Dim the lights, take it slow
Like a dream come true (oh wow)
Cause tonight I'mma show you show you what to do (oh oh wow)
He's pretty sure he's dreaming, his fantasy world colliding with reality and leaving him unsure of what's real and what's delusion.
So come and turn me on
Baby be my Marlon Brando
Take a good snapshot
Get me from my better angle
Cause I like it hot
And you know I love scandal
Tell me what you what you waiting for?
Touch me (touch me)
I wanna feel you on my body
Put your hands on me
Come on and love me
You wanna get it boy
I'll give you to the count of three
Hold me closer
Don't wanna take it slow
I wanna go somewhere we can be alone
Touch me (touch me)
I wanna feel you on my body
Put your hands on me
His body is humming with excitement and anticipation as the music slows and her voice becomes ethereal. His ears crave each syllable enunciated from her supple lips, he's mesmerized by her…mind, body and soul.
Every move that I could make
You are watching me
Put your hands around my waist
Boy set me free
How much more that
I can take
If you don't take it all
Touch me (touch me)
I wanna feel you on my body
Put your hands on me
Come on and love me
You wanna get it boy
I'll give you to the count of three
Hold me closer
Don't wanna take it slow
I wanna go somewhere we can be alone
Touch me (touch me)
I wanna feel you on my body
Put your hands on me
Her lips hum the last words of the song as they press against his in a soft, delicate meeting, thunder sounding in the background, intensifying the embrace, turning the kiss from soft and slow to heated in an instant. Her hands graze up his sides and across his shoulders as his slide from her hips, over her taut abdomen and to her chest, tenderly cupping her breasts through her shirt and drawing an erotic moan from her.
Smiling she takes his hand in hers, leading him to his bedroom.
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