This is just another one shot I've written while having nothing else to do.
Hope you like it.
Shit.
This totally isn't what she has expected to see today. Not that purple shirt that hugs him in all the right places, not the way that the top three buttons are undone, leaving the skin of his neck and collarbone and oh God, his chest exposed.
She's doomed. That much is clear.
Clearly.
'Beckett?' She looks up and away from his chest in his eyes, sees a smirk covering his face. She blushes and realizes he's holding out the coffee for her, takes it eagerly, covers her face with the lid as she takes a large sip.
'You okay?' She nods, shrugs and returns to her paperwork.
It's just paperwork today. No case, no murder, nothing to stop her from hauling him onto her desk and ravishing him completely in front of their. . .
Ah, no. That's not going to work.
She is full of this pent up energy and sexual frustration and she hasn't been with a man in a year and it's really throwing her off balance right now.
She crosses her legs under her desk, presses her thighs together, can't help but feel how the seam of her jeans cuts into her panties that are sealed to her skin.
She almost groans; stops herself just in time, thankyougod.
Her teeth bite furiously on the pen she's holding in her right hand as she tries (and fails, of course) to concentrate on anything else but the way that his broad shoulders look in this shirt and damn it, this shirt is killing her.
Literally.
She huffs out a hot breath, drops the pen she's holding and puts her head in her hands. She tries to calm down her breathing and get rid of the hazy shade in her eyes, but then he's touching her and her body shudders with such a force that her knees bump the inside of her wooden desk.
He gasps and removes his hand away from her temple and she looks up, draws in a long, steady (she tries to tell herself that it's steady, but it's really far from it) breath. He looks visibly concerned and she doesn't understand how he can look like that when she's so hot for him, but he puts a hand on her forehead as if he's checking on her temperature.
'You're hot.' Her breath catches in her throat, flips around and makes her cough, her lungs desperately clawing for some air, if she would please just breathe.
'Wow, Kate. You sure you're okay? You don't seem fine.' She still hasn't said a word to him, but she can't, not when he's looking so sexy that she can't stop her mind from going thousand miles an hour, picturing things that she shouldn't be thinking about him or his hands or any other part of his body.
Right?
God, she's so frustrated.
Damn him!
She stands up suddenly, doesn't know why, but her insides are burning and she feels the heat low in her abdomen spreading and she can't be near him right now because she isn't sure that she can stop herself from jumping his bones.
'Kate?'
Stop talking.
She stutters and wipes her sweaty hands on her thighs, runs them through her hair, points to the breakroom.
He looks confused and she knows that he probably thinks she's crazy right now, but she just wants him so much that it's making her whole body hurt.
'Castle . . .' she croaks out, and he seems to understand her plea, hear the need in her voice, because he follows her to the breakroom, walking too close but at the same time being so far away.
Once he steps through the door, she shuts it, locks it, then pulls the blinds shut. The expression on his face is priceless.
'Umm . . . Kate?'
'Shut up, shut up, shut up!' He closes his mouth and stares at her in shock and her powerful outburst of anger/arousal/love?, walks over to the couch and sits down. He tries to say something, but she's fast as she comes to stand in front of him and yanks his shirt open, throws it on the floor next to them.
'Kate,' he gasps, groans when she straddles him suddenly, presses her hot mouth to his sternum, draws her tongue against his nipples, bites down hard on his left shoulder.
'What the – Kate,' he begs her to tell him what the hell has gotten into her, but she shuts him up with her insistent mouth clamping over his, claiming his everything. She pushes her hands to his back, traces her fingers along his spine, presses them into his tailbone. He arches into her, his hands pressing her hips closer to his.
Suddenly she stands up, almost falls over the coffee table, but catches herself just in time. She's standing in front of him, her shirt ridden up, exposing her skin, her hair all tousled, lips swollen and he is sitting, looking up at her with dark, mesmerizing eyes and urgh, she wants him even more now.
That make out session hasn't helped a bit, just made her more aroused, more needing, needing his touch on her skin and she can't help herself.
She puts her hand on her mouth in shock at what she just did as she stares at his naked torso and stomach and the line where his jeans meet the skin of his abdomen. He looks delicious.
'I'm sorry,' she whispers, closes her eyes against the onslaught of sensation when he stands up and presses his chest into her, removes her hand, replaces it instead with his mouth and his adventurous tongue, making her forget why she had stepped away from this in the first place.
She pushes him down onto the couch, brings her knees to rest on either side of his thighs, runs a hand through his hair, kisses him with all she's got.
It's emotional and heavy and it scares her to bits, but she's not afraid of this anymore.
She's so prepared that she doesn't even realize his hand is unbuttoning her pants, until she feels his thumb pressing into that spot just under her navel that makes her whole body thrum.
'Oh.' He lets out a wild growl at the sounds she's making and then dips his hand lower, hooks his fingers beneath the deep-blue panties.
He's touching her, but not touching her at the same time and it's driving her crazy, because she's really so embarassingly close to the verge and he hasn't even done anything to her.
'Please, Castle,' she pleads with a strangled voice, shivers hard.
She rocks her hips against his hand and when he finally begins to unravel her, there's a loud knock on the door and Kate jumps up as he moves his hand away, but the movement collides her pelvis and his obvious state of arousal and it makes her throw her head backwards in pleasure.
She's so close, if he would just go back there and –
The person behind the door knocks again, harder this time and she swallows, leans in to press a last kiss on Castle's lips, then climbs off his lap and stands up shakily, buttons her pants and smooths her shirt, runs her hands through her hair.
She walks slowly over to the door without looking back at her partner, unlocks it and opens it for a fraction, just barely enough for her to stick her head through.
'What?' she spats, but her voice is all breathy and not as intimidating as it's supposed to be.
Damndamndamndamndamn.
'Um . . .' Esposito and Ryan stand in front of the door, looking nervous and a little like they're going to throw up when they see her swollen lips, but then she rolls her eyes and groans and they snap back into reality.
'Nothing, uh, you should probably, ah, finish what you've started. Yeah,' says Ryan and ecuses himself, almost runs back to his desk. Esposito is still standing there, blushing, and she smirks at the look on his face.
'Espo?'
'What he said,' comes his reply and he scurries over to his partner, whispers something to him and they both look back at her, only to turn away immediately.
She rolls her eyes at the two and draws her head back in, closes the door with a soft click of the lock, locks it back.
She just wants Castle to –
'Kate?'
Oh.
He's standing now, holding his shirt in his hands next to the couch, which she's sure she's never going to be able to look at it like she had before all this happened.
'Castle, I'm – '
'I don't want you to say you're sorry.' She frowns and furrows her brows, takes a step closer.
'I didn't mean to. I'm not sorry. Far from it.' He scrunches up his face in confusion, leans his back against the counter.
'What just happened?' he chokes out, looks down at his shirt, diverts his eyes away from hers.
Noooo. She wants him to be looking at her when she tells him this. She walks over to him, runs her hands up his chest and links them behind his neck, efficiently making him looking into her eyes.
'Something that I hope can continue after I take this day off.' His breath hitches in his throat; she knows because she can see it, feel it, hear it.
'Are you sure, Kate?' She nods, leans in to brush their noses together, slides her lips over his.
'Positively.' He moans and holds her close, drops his shirt to wrap his arms around her waist, brings her closer to him.
'From now on, I'm only going to wear purple shirts, if they make you so hot.' She chuckles and rests her forehead on his shoulder.
'You have no idea what you do to me.' She feels him shrug, so she lifts her head, feels his hands slipping lower and lower, so she kisses him, because now she can and because she wants to.
She pulls away after a moment and steps back, picks up his fallen shirt and walks over to the couch. She lifts one of the cushions and tucks the shirt in the empty space, hiding it from curious eyes.
'We'll come back for it tomorrow,' she says and licks her lips.
After she places the gray cushion back where it belongs, she walks over to the small closet and pulls out a simple blue NYPD t-shirt. She throws it at him with a wink and then, before he can react, slips out of the breakroom and closes the door after her.
She sits down at her desk and gathers the files, all the paperwork for today, in a pile and puts it in the drawer of her desk. She grabs her purse, her jacket and her keys, makes sure to grab Castle's jacket, too, then she's shuffling over to the elevator. She hears him call after her, so she turns around and flashes him a dazzling smile and it makes him run to her.
They somehow manage to survive the ride with the elevator and the car ride to her place without stopping to do kinky stuff, but it's all different once the door to Kate's apartment is closed after them and he's pushing her into it, already getting rid of their clothes.
Now she knows why purple is her favorite color.
I don't know if I'll be able to hold on until season 5.
I'll probably die sooner.
- Ariela
