STRIP TEASE
Rick Castle sat in his office, staring at the blank white screen of his laptop. He screwed his face into a look of fierce determination, set his fingers to the keyboard, and typed 'The'. He paused, frowned, and hit the backspace key. He set the laptop down, spun around twice in his chair, planted his feet firmly underneath his desk and set fingers to keys again. 'Nikki,' he typed.
With a sneer, he jabbed the backspace key again.
That was the problem with writing on a computer. At least when you had a bad start on a typewriter, you had the satisfaction of ripping out the page, wadding it up, and tossing it in the trashcan. Somehow, hitting 'Backspace' just didn't cut it.
He planted his elbows on the desk and dropped his face into his hands, rubbing at his eyes. The latest Nikki Heat novel, Naked Heat, had been sent to the publisher for final proof and was due out in hardback in September. Which meant, per his contract, that it was already time to start work on the third novel. Actually, he should have started some time ago if he was to have it written and through his usual three drafts before the deadline.
The problem was, he was dry. Bone dry. Sure, he had lots of material from following Detective Kate Beckett around. He had enough real cases to draw on for a dozen Nikki Heat novels. Maybe that was the trouble. Maybe he had too much material and he was having trouble sorting through it.
He gave a low moan and rubbed at his eyes again.
"What's the matter, Rick?" came a sultry voice from the doorway to his office.
Startled, Rick jerked up to see his muse (not that he would ever call her that to her face under pain of death), Kate Beckett, standing in his doorway, hands on hips. She was dressed in a long, black trench coat, the belt tied at the waist. Rick's eyes scanned down her figure, tantalizing even under the trench coat, and his breath caught at the sight of the fishnet stockings and red, six-inch stiletto heels that peeked from beneath the hem of the coat.
"Beckett!" Rick said. He jumped to his feet, sending his chair rolling backwards to bang loudly against the back wall. He jumped again at the loud 'bang' of the chair's collision and jerked around to look.
When he turned back, Kate had covered half the distance between the door and the desk and was standing with one hip jutted out to the side. She licked her lips, and Rick noted with a start that she was wearing dark red lipstick.
Rick fumbled with the chair, pushing it back into the kneehole of the desk and awkwardly leaned over to prop himself on the edge of his desk. He was so entranced by Kate's sultry appearance that he missed on the first try, slid halfway down the side of the desk, and scrambled to jump back on its top.
"Beckett," he said again, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Beckett," he said in a voice he hoped was smooth and confident. "What brings you to the batcave?"
Kate smiled at the reference, an allusion to the first time she had set foot in Rick's office. "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by," she said. Her voice dripped sweetness like a fresh honeycomb. "It's not a problem, is it?"
"No!" Rick said. "I mean, no. You're always welcome… Beckett."
She walked slowly toward him, her hips swaying deliciously as her heels clicked on the wood floor. She stopped so close to him he could smell the cloying scent of her perfume. He licked his lips and swallowed hard. She ran a finger down his arm, and he noted with surprise that her dark red fingernails matched her lipstick. Since when did Beckett have such long fingernails?
"You know, Ricky," she said, trailing her finger back up his arm, "Don't you think it's time you started calling me 'Kate'?"
"Um, sure," he said. "If that's… you know… what you'd prefer."
Kate smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Oh, yes," she said. "I would definitely like… that."
Rick quickly crossed his legs, trying to hide his rising interest.
"So, um," he said. "Can I… get you a drink?"
"Vodka. Neat," she said.
"Oh. Yeah. Sure," he said. "I, ah, think I have some in the freezer. Wait here."
He hopped off the desk. She grabbed his arm as he tried to brush past her. "On second thought," she said. "Forget the vodka. There's something else I want to taste."
She leaned in and pressed her mouth hard against his.
Rick staggered backwards, bumping up against the edge of the desk. Kate followed, grabbing his neck and pulling his mouth hungrily into hers. She pressed her body hard against his, slipping a leg between his.
Rick's eyes went wide and he pulled his lips away from hers. "Beckett!" he cried. "What's gotten into you? Are you drunk?"
Kate's eyes flashed with undisguised lust. "Drunk with desire," she said.
She pulled away and grabbed the belt to her trench coat, giving it a quick tug. The coat fell open to reveal a bright red lace teddy, with garters holding up her fishnet stockings. With a wicked smile, she tossed her shoulders and the coat fell to the floor.
Rick's eyes were as big and bright as silver dollars. "I, ah… That is…"
Kate grabbed him again and pulled him into a rough kiss. Her tongue forcefully wormed its way into his mouth.
His defenses crumbling, Rick slipped his arms behind her back and pulled her closer. Her curves molded themselves to his until it seemed their bodies would merge into one.
He pulled his mouth from hers and hungrily tasted her neck. She let out a little groan of desire. "Oh, Ricky," she moaned, her breath coming in ragged little gasps. "Take me, Ricky. Take me now."
The loud sounds of AC/DC's Highway to Hell jerked Castle awake. He blinked in surprise and sat up, his forehead numb from where it had been resting on his folded arms. He stared dumbly at the phone for a few moments, blinked, and then jabbed at the button to answer it.
"Castle," he croaked.
"I'm not waking you, am I, Castle?" Beckett's voice had a slight chuckle in it.
"Oh. Um, no," Castle said. "I was just… working. Working on my next book," he said.
"Yeah," Beckett said. "Right. We've got a murdered longshoreman down at Pier 23. You interested?"
Castle sat up a little straighter and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "Is it gruesome?" he asked.
"Impaled by a forklift," Beckett said. "I'm on my way there now. I can swing by your building."
"I'll grab my coat," Castle said.
"See you in ten," Beckett said.
Castle started to hang up, then jerked the phone back to his ear. "Beckett!" he called into the speaker.
"Yeah?"
"What are you wearing?"
"What?"
"Never mind."
