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A/n this is a two to three chapter tag to "Secret Santa," that takes place the day after Christmas. Please enjoy and please heed the rating.

He whistled as he topped fresh, steaming, pancakes with thinly sliced strawberries. He breathed in deeply and smiled broadly at the sight and smell of golden butter, and deep brown syrup melting into each other. His mouth began to water as he imagined he slipped a bite of the stack into Kate's mouth and watched her chew. He could see her lovely, coffee brown eyes closing in ecstasy, her delicious tongue, which tasted like sunshine, traveling over her lips and -

"Dad!"

He jumped and nearly dropped the plate of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon he'd taken to the tray he'd fixed for him and Kate.

"What?"

Alexis frowned and then she smiled. "You were a million miles away."

He didn't appreciate the knowing, mischievous gleam in his daughter's eyes, but he supposed it was his own fault.

"Actually, I was planning my strategy. You still owe me a game of laser tag."

Alexis hopped up on one of the bar stools in front of the counter. "I can't, dad, I've got plans for shopping."

"It's the day after Christmas," he stated the obvious in bewildered tones.

"Yes, and all the best sales are going on right now," said his mother as she entered the room with her best faux fur coat and her hair in its usual red curls. "Now, Alexis and I are going to hit the stores and have lunch. So you and Kate will have to do without us for the day."

Rick narrowed his eyes at her wink and smile. "If that's the way you want it."

"That's the way we want it," she assured him.

"What about breakfast?"

The girls giggled. "We've been up for hours. It's you and Kate that can't get out of bed at a decent hour," his mother said cheekily.

"Alright, that's enough, I'm going to take this tray to Kate, if you don't mind."

"Don't let us stop you," Alexis said, and she linked arms with Martha. "See you later."

He waited until they were gone before he grabbed the tray and hurried from the kitchen. It was a good thing he had a good grip on the handles because he nearly dropped it again upon entering his bedroom.

Kate had slipped into one of his shirts, as she loved to do when she spent a night with him, and she had just buttoned the first button. She was looking down and didn't see his face as he stared at her cleavage and a hint of one breast, not quite covered by the white fabric.

Her long hair, a little mussed from sleep and sex, tumbled around her shoulders in a waterfall of chestnut brown with golden highlights teased out by the winter sunlight that filled the room. Her legs, long, lean and luscious begged him to caress them and lick them all the way up to the edge of his shirt and beyond. His eyes followed this trajectory and he glimpsed just a hint of upper thigh and what lay between them before the shirt closed under her fingers. He hitched in a deep, shuddering breath and sighed.

"My god, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

She looked up and blushed prettily. "I was just coming out to see what was taking you so long. I'm starved."

What, oh right, he had a tray of cooling food in his hands.

He took it to the messy bed and sat uncomfortably. The last thing he wanted was the food, even though the scent of smoked bacon, and garlic from the eggs called to him. He had to get her out of that shirt again, or he might explode.

"No way, Castle,' she warned her hands on her hips.

Instead of dampening down his desire, her "interrogation room," tone only increased the flames in his gut. If she only knew how many times watching her get the truth out of a witness, or a suspect in that little room, made him so hard it hurt. How many times had he dreamed that it was he in that room with her underneath him on the table, her legs wrapped around him, her back arched and her eyes pinned to his face as they did, every time they made love?

"Castle?"

His eyes leapt to her face and he flinched because she smiled at him like a cat with a mouse.

"Sorry, just thinking," he said lamely.

"I know, I recognize the look in your eyes, and you better cool down. I'm hungry."

She climbed on the bed and he gasped aloud because his shirt rode up and he got another tempting look at the apex of her thighs. The fact that she didn't shave, or wax clean her pubic hair was a delight that never failed to make him crazy.

"Stop it!"

The command in her voice didn't help, why couldn't she see that? He found her eyes again and saw, she did know it and didn't care. Oh, she would pay for that soon.

She grabbed a plate, and a fork, and dug into the pancakes. "This is just the way I like it."

He watched her eat and it was just as he'd imagined in the kitchen. Her tongue licked her lips after the first bite and she groaned. "I love pancakes, fresh off the grill, and soaked in butter and syrup."

He hitched in another breath and fisted his hands at his sides so they wouldn't reach out and grab the plate from her. This was intolerable, but he couldn't make his feet take him out of the room.

"Eat, Rick, it's getting cold."

Why did she have to say his name like that, as if nothing was going on in that sunlit room, on his bed? He should have set the table in the dining area and made clothing a rule to eat.

"I'm not hungry," he squeaked as his stomach rumbled in rebellion.

"I can tell," she winked at him over a slice of strawberry.

"I think I'll take my plate to my office," he grabbed it and his coffee cup. "I need to get some writing done."

"Don't be that way," she slid the plate onto the tray and crawled across the bed to him. "I was just teasing."

"Don't worry," he backed away from her instead of dropping his food and grabbing her into his arms. "I think we both need to cool off for awhile."

He left her sitting there staring at him with a little bit of syrup in one corner of her mouth that he wanted to lick away, but he stayed strong and went to his office.