Push and pull me closer
Habit forming, you should stay away
Sucker Punch
-OneRepublic
He still hears her in his mind.
That small little sound that escaped her lips as she sealed them to his haunts him.
It boils in his stomach, churning up all those messy feelings he thought he had put away. Sending stupid ideas to his brain, and not the right one.
That little moan when she lost control.
Because she did lose control, even if she denies it.
It's all he can think about, that and making her lose control again.
He knew kissing her would be amazing, but in his wildest fantasies he could not have imagined just what it actually felt like. Like she was starving and he was the first meal she had seen in ages. Devouring. Possessing. She is more than a little addictive.
Pre-kiss that was easy to forget. Now... it's damn near impossible.
She comes to work in her tight jeans and heels, wearing that button up shirt that reveals more than he wants anyone else seeing, and all he thinks about is taking it off of her. It's starting to affect his writing; his latest manuscript looks more like a romance novel than a murder mystery. It's messing with their dynamic at work as well. The other day he was cornered in the hall by the guys, asking him what was up with the two of them.
When she talks, he gets lost watching her lips move. When she's doing paperwork, his eyes wander. When she moves, he's undressing her. He can't help it. God knows he's tried to stop it. He doesn't want to be so turned on by her—and what he knows those lips can do—in a room full of cops. It isn't appropriate work place behavior to take your partner in the restroom.
Not that she'd let him anyway. It doesn't stop Castle Junior from being eager to try, though.
It's torture.
They don't talk about it. Thankfully. He doesn't know what he would do if she started in on that topic of conversation. It would break the wall of professionalism that he is desperately trying to put in place. If she told him she liked it, he would have no choice but to repeat the activity often, and while that doesn't sound like a bad idea to him, he knows that their solve rate would plummet. He would not be all that eager to let her out of his bed if he had permission to touch her like he wants to.
And if she told him that she didn't like it? Well, he would then be forced to prove to her that she did. Again, by repeating the activity often. Which would either land him in a world of physical discomfort—he knew Kate knew how to handle unwanted advances—or back in his bed with a naked detective by his side.
But he had to stop thinking about it. Not that he imagines that's possible. He doubts that until they try and clear the air, he will ever be able to concentrate again. And even then he thinks it's iffy. Not when he can still remember the curve of her spine and the way her kisses are so direct and to the point. Or how her hands tug and pull.
Or that damned moan!
Even trying not to think about it just leads him right back to it.
He leans back against her desk as she stands by his side, arms crossed staring at the murder board.
"What are you thinking?" She asks, not turning to face him, one finger resting on her chin. Under those soft and inviting lips that he isn't supposed to be thinking about.
"Huh?" He asks as he realizes that once more she had distracted him with one of her attributes. His eyes wander her body again.
She bites back a smile. Her bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
"I asked you what you're thinking."
"Oh. Nothing. What about you? Anything pop?"
Besides the obvious tension.
"Nope. Stop thinking it so loudly and maybe something will." She suggests as she moves away from him and steps closer to the murder board. He watches her backside, swallowing the lump in his throat and trying to recall the case.
He knows it's a fruitless effort when she shifts her weight and sighs. She isn't having much luck with ignoring things either.
It's late, the lights are low and everyone else has gone home for the night. This is the first time they are completely alone since the kiss. There have always been other people, in the next room, around the corner, next to them. He doesn't want to think she's done it on purpose, because he doesn't think she's that afraid of the conversation that has to eventually happen. But sometimes he wonders.
He also wonders if he can convince her to come home with him, even if he knows she's with another man.
He's never hated Dr. Motorcycle Boy so much, now that he knows what he's missing and some other man is getting. He knows she isn't cheating on him because they aren't together, but he doesn't understand why that is anymore. Why aren't they together? And why if they aren't together, her being with her boyfriend is so infuriating to him?
Ok, maybe he understands that part. Maybe he just wishes he didn't. He doesn't really want to know if she's still 'with' Josh rather than just with Josh. He wants to think that his stupid spur of the moment plan has mucked that up for her. It's selfish, but it's better than the alternative...
Picturing Josh's surgeon hands running all over her naked skin, in places his hands are damn near desperate to visit.
"Ryan and Esposito think something is going on between us." He says softly, trying to push the unwanted though from his mind.
"They always think something is going on." She brushes it off.
"Maybe they're right." He murmurs low enough that she has to strain to make out his words. He knows she's not stupid. He knows she knows that there has always been 'something.' It has just never been so easy to define before, pre-kiss.
Pre-damned-intoxicating-moan-inducing-kiss.
"Hmmm." She offers with no commitment either way.
They sit in silence once more. He doesn't think he can take it anymore. Knowing they are alone. Feeling the tension radiating from her in waves of lust and need.
At least, that's what he thinks she's radiating. Hell if he really knows. Sometimes he just wants to shake the answers out of her. But he knows he never could, that the thought is just born of frustration and desperation.
"I told Josh." She says softly. Throwing it out so randomly that he almost doesn't catch it. "About the kiss."
"Why?" He knows what he wants her to say. It has something to do with: because it changed everything. Because he deserved to know. Because I need you and I'm sick of fighting it.
"I don't know." He gets instead, with a heavy sigh accompanying it. "I guess it was something he should know."
He wants to press her buttons further and ask her why she thinks he should know about it. Ask her if she liked it, if she wanted to do it again? If they could do it again? But he doesn't. He knows she isn't ready for that yet.
"How'd he take it?" He asks instead.
She turns to face him.
"Ok, I guess. I mean, it didn't mean anything. Why shouldn't he be ok with it?"
Because it did, and he can see it all over her face. She isn't saying it didn't mean anything, she is asking him what it meant.
"If I was yours, I wouldn't want anyone touching those lips. Not after I know how they taste." He answers honestly and he swears he sees her waver a bit. Like his words hit her deep in her core, in that secret sweet spot he wants so badly to visit. But even if it wasn't just his imagination, she recovers too quickly to tell.
"But you aren't and Josh isn't you." He swears there is some kind of regret in that.
"No. He isn't." He pushes away from the desk, putting himself in front of her. "And you're right, it didn't mean anything."
She almost flinches, turning her face away quickly to avoid eye contact.
"Did it?" He questions, this time he is sure he isn't imagining her squirm because she turns back around and puts her back to him before answering.
"No, of course not. It was just a way to distract that guy."
He steps up behind her and puts himself so close to her he can feel the heat her body generates, giving her the opportunity to lean back into him, if she chooses to do so.
"You know what I think, Detective Beckett?" He questions.
She grabs a marker and uncaps it, her hand poised to write something on the board.
"No. I really don't." It's breathless. He reaches out and grabs her hand, and she drops the marker.
"I think, you're a horrible liar." He steps forward the rest of the way and presses himself into her back. "I think, you want to do it again."
"Rick. Stop." She murmurs softly.
"I'm tired of stopping, Kate." He whispers next to her ear, his breath disturbing a strand of hair. He watches it tickle her cheek. "Let go."
She spins around, brings her hands to his head and pulls his mouth to hers.
It's better than he remembers it.
He stumbles backward into her desk as his hands fumble over her body, not satisfied with any one location. Her fingers dig into his scalp—burrowing—in constant motion, as her tongue slides past his lips. He catches her bottom lip, nips at it lightly.
And then, before he really has time to prove to her just what he's feeling, she pulls back and wipes the back of her hand across her kiss swollen lips.
"See. Nothing." She says, her breath coming in pants. Her hair is mussed adorably and her shirt has ridden up from where his hands explored her skin. She is, in fact, the very picture of unconvincing.
"No, I think that was too fast to really tell anything. We better try it again." He smiles suggestively.
"No, Castle. I mean it." She says as he advances on her again and she backs away, her back hitting the murder board as his hands land on it, pinning her in. Though he knows how easily she could escape, the damn board is on wheels after all.
He grins when she doesn't even try. Like maybe she secretly wants this. Wants him to keep forcing the issue and making her face it.
"This is important. We need to be absolutely certain." He whispers against her lips, as his hands slide across the board and land on her shoulders then journey up to cup her face. She lets him kiss her softly, hesitantly, then responds gently. Slowly savoring every touch. Like he has found the definition of infinity in the way she sucks so lightly at his bottom lip, eternity in one kiss.
Her hands travel around his back and pull him closer.
That's when he hears it. That sound that has been haunting him from their first kiss.
His hands leave her face and wrap around her waist, they jerk her to him roughly in response.
Then she's pushing away again.
"What if we're looking at the wrong brother?" She blurts out.
It takes him a moment to come back to his senses.
"But Everett alibis out. Doesn't he?" He asks as she turns around to look at the murder board again.
"Does he? He wasn't there for the robbery, but..." Her voice trails off as she looks over her shoulder at him with a smile.
"If Kelly was murdered elsewhere, like right next door to the bakery that Everett works at, then his hour long lunch break would be more than enough time to dispose of his problem and hide the body." He continues for her, knowing where she is going with it. His mind suddenly back in the case, focused now that he has a little more resolution.
"...Until Bobby who was cleared for time of death could move it back to her place and stage it like an accident." She steps back next to him as he stares at the murder board with him.
"And sticky fingered Bobby couldn't pass up the opportunity to profit a little from his brother's mishap. We need to find the murder scene." He finishes.
"It's worth checking out." She smiles as she bends over and picks up the marker she dropped earlier. "Fix that." She says as she holds the marker out to him and points to the board where his hands have wiped part of the information away in his earlier passion.
"We should brainstorm like that more often. It seems every effective." He smiles as he steps up to the board and tries to fill in the missing information, wiping clean some of the words and starting again from scratch. Filling in some of the letters and finishing others.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She smirks, grabbing her coat from the back of her chair and throwing it on. "And hurry up with that. We've got a lead."
They haven't really resolved anything, he thinks as he grabs his coat to follow her. But hell if he cares, not as long as they keep unresolving things like that.
AN: Thank you for your amazing response. I am grateful for all of you who took the time to leave me feedback.
