She didn't know that he was awake...
The ringing of her cell phone brought him out of his drugged state. He fought back a smile upon hearing her ring tone... "Bad, Boys, Bad Boys, What ya goin' to do? What ya goin' to do when they come for you?"
I just bet she prefers Bad Boys, he thought as it was easy envisioning his captor being attracted to men as Bad-Ass as her.
"Beckett," she answered.
Beckett huh? He strained to hear her next words as she strolled away from him.
"Are you kidding me, Esposito? … Hell, I need to get back in action."
Who's this Esposito guy? A relative? Boyfriend? Co-worker? Ex-lover? ... He sounds like an important person in her life.
An unexpected pang of jealousy twisted his gut. He refused to admit what that might mean so attributed it to hunger pains ravaging his stomach.
"Yes, please. Fax me over the file and I'll take a look."
A few moments later she grumbled, "No. Dr. Burke says I need another psych evaluation before he'll approve my return back."
Surprise, surprise, he thought sarcastically. She's seeing a psychiatrist.
"Yeah, I'm going stir crazy playing this waiting game. I need to get into the precinct."
Nooo fuckin' way.
Either she was a politician's worst nightmare as a Poll worker or he'd been kidnapped by the hottest, craziest fan who also happened to be a cop… Someone licensed to carry a gun, as well as a taser, handcuffs and any other number of weapons with deadly skills to match.
Oh Gawd.
He suddenly found it difficult to breathe as an image of her riding him like Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct floated through his mind… Riding him deliriously hard and fast before pulling out an ice pick and stabbing him multiple times to enhance her orgasm.
"Montgomery's pushing for me?" she asked incredulously. "Well, that's a relief… Uh, huh. Thanks for the heads-up."
Through wheezing breaths he guessed he was either petrified shitless about the implications of being kidnapped by a police officer, (It would be extremely easy for her to kill him and dispose of the body without a trace) or he was inexcusably turned-on by the idea. (And he'd have to be a true deviant nympho for that to be the case)
"Gotta go, Espo," and the next instant she's at Rick's side, concern rolling off her tongue.
"Castle," and she grasped both his cheeks, her thumbs circling the day-old scruff. "Listen to me and follow my instructions exactly or you're going to hyperventilate."
He nodded his head up and down, gasping for air.
She placed one hand below his ribs, directly on his stomach and the other on his chest.
"Breathe in through your nose deeply, counting to seven. Let the air push your stomach out, but keep your chest still."
As he complied with her instructions she continued, "Purse your lips before exhaling." She pressed gently down on his stomach to help push the air out of his lungs. "Count to 12 while exhaling… Good… Repeat at least five times."
"That's right," she encouraged softly. "Take your time breathing in and out."
Her hands were sure yet delicate on his skin.
"Again. Inhale for 7 seconds and then exhale slowly for 12."
Her quiet demeanor and soft voice helped to slow his breaths and calm his troubled mind.
As his breathing returned to normal, her lips skated across his cheek and the next moment, her head was over his heart, listening to the rampant heart beats.
"Please don't scare me like that again. I'd never forgive myself if anything happened to you."
The gesture was endearingly sweet, her words so sincere that his fear of her torturing him dissipated and was replaced with an annoying urge to be a 'gentleman,' and somehow comfort her.
"I'm alright," he reassured her. "Thank you for helping me through it."
"Do you suffer from panic attacks often?"
"No, that's a first," he smiled coyly, "but given the circumstances, I'm not surprised."
He didn't like the uncomfortable silence that followed… He could feel those incredible eyes watching him, sizing him up, trying to read him.
"I'm probably New York's number one fan of one-night-stands," he continued humorously, trying to lighten the mood. "And last night will certainly go down in the record books as a liason I'll never forget, but I've got to get home now. My 14-year-old daughter's expecting me."
When she got off the bed and started pacing the room, he continued truthfully, "Alexis is used to me staying out all night, but she does expect me to be home in the morning before she leaves for school... It's a Daddy-daughter thing."
At her quick intake of breath, he realized he must have triggered some memory for her and by the clipped tone of her response, it wasn't a pleasant one.
"You don't have to worry. She's expecting you to be gone the entire weekend. I texted both her and Martha, telling them Gina convinced you to leave on a last minute book tour to promote holiday sales."
"Oh," he said wearily, "I guess you've thought of everything."
She'd certainly done her homework on him, and he didn't quite know whether to feel frightened or flattered by the thought.
It's Friday morning, - that means another three days trapped with her.
He tamped down his Knight's enthusiasm over the possibilities of being held hostage for three full days with a sexy, unhinged, delusional woman, - not to mention the fact of a controlling cop.
Why is sex with a crazy person so unbelievably hot?
On the flip side, she might suddenly turn on him and become every novelist's night mare, - Kathy Bates from Misery. He shuddered at the thought of her taking a sledge hammer to his lower legs, hobbling him.
Somehow, he needed to convince her that he wasn't a threat and had no plans to go to the police and report being kidnapped, - especially now that he suspected she was in law enforcement.
His bladder suddenly screamed for release and took precedence over everything else.
"I really need to use the restroom," he whined, - hopefully in that cute, boyish manner that women seemed to think endearing. "My bladder's about to burst so if you don't want your sheets ruined, I suggest you untie me and point me in the direction of your bathroom."
She spoke confidently, as if she'd planned for this particular scenario... "I have to warn you that I'm trained in several different forms of martial arts. Don't try anything or a straining bladder won't be the only thing you're suffering from."
"Got it," he said, flashing his pearly whites. "The woman who likes to hide behind baggy clothes, a dirty blond wig and school-teacher glasses has killer defensive moves to match her killer legs."
Shut the hell up, Rick, you moron, but he couldn't stop himself from spouting,"If you ever daydream of training with Chuck Norris or Jackie Chan, I know a guy... I can certainly arrange it in exchange for my release."
"Haven't you figured it out yet, Castle?" she purred. "You are my only dream."
Yep, he was done for, - an obsessed fan whose only dream-in-life was to play house with her favorite author, or Mmm, possibly just fuck her favorite author to death.
She reached over him to start untying the knot around his right hand.
"Don't touch the mask," she commanded as the silk scarf slipped from his wrist. "Turn over and lie on your stomach."
He did as she requested. Her left knee landed on his ass, holding him in place as she pulled his right arm at an awkward angle behind him.
This felt familiar... Like the last time he was cuffed by an officer due to riding a horse in Central Park in only his Birthday suit.
Oh No! She was tying his wrist with the silk scarf to the belt loop on his pants.
"I'll be a good boy, I promise. I won't try and escape, but I can't take a leak with my dominant hand tied behind my back."
She actually laughed. A beautiful, melodic sound that he immediately wanted to hear again.
"It's debatable whether or not you know how to be a 'good boy'," she teased and he could picture the enormous, sparkling grin adorning her face. "Don't worry, I'll make sure your aim is perfect."
"Nooo," he said obviously agitated. "I didn't even let my ex-wives see me use the commode. That's a no go, Kay-Jo."
He could hear the smile in her voice at his nickname for her, "There's a first time for everything. I'm happy to help you if you'd like."
"I just bet you are," he grumbled. "I don't need any assistance from you as I can take care of myself with just my left hand."
He let out an exasperated groan as that sounded way dirtier than he intended.
"I'm certain you can," she guffawed while untying his left wrist. She rolled him back over, helping him to sit up.
"I've got this," he preened, not wanting any help from this exasperating woman who had his feelings in a jumbled mess, but as he stood up, blood rushed from his head and made him sway beside her.
She was instantly supporting him, her right arm clinging to his waist, holding him up, while his left arm snuck over her shoulder.
"It's eight steps to the master bath."
Her cherry scent swarmed his senses. His hand grasped her strong bicep as he leaned on her heavily, the curve of her breast pressing into his ribs with each and every step.
"Okay, you're standing directly in front of the john," and he heard her lift the lid. "Are you okay to stand on your own? Are you positive your knees won't buckle?"
An unexpected warmth filled him at her concern.
"I'm fine. Now go away," he pouted.
He heard her take a couple of steps back from him but felt those mesmerizing eyes watching his every move.
He unzipped his slacks with his left hand and pulled out his Knight, hoping his aim was correct.
He almost missed at her sultry, "I have to agree with the tabloids, Castle. You certainly do have, umm, nice assets."
He could practically feel her eyes burning into his ass.
"Thank you," he breathed, wishing he had the pleasure of seeing her assets so he could happily return the compliment. "Is the sink directly behind me?"
"Yes."
He flushed the commode, put his package back in place and zipped up his pants, turning towards the sink.
She turned the water on for him and pumped some liquid soap into his hand… The next moment her fingers were over his, rubbing the jasmine-scented soap into his digits, taking care with the palm of his hand, massaging every callous in a smooth circular motion.
She ran his hand under the hot water, slicing her fingers through his, making sure every particle of skin was thoroughly clean.
His Knight betrayed him and jumped at the simple action… How the hell did she make that normal act seem so sensual?
All too soon, she was finished and drying his palm, her arm around his waist once more, leading him out of the bathroom.
His arm wound its way back over her shoulder but his hand seemed to have a mind of its own as it meandered up to the nape of her neck, squeezing softly.
His fingers stroked the creamy skin, found her glossy tresses, captivated by the pixie length of her hair.
Somehow, someway, - she interpreted the gesture as hostile and the next moment she executed a self-defense move that left him breathless... She planted one foot between his, held his forearms and hip-threw him over her shoulder. He found himself flipped up in the air, landing with a loud thud on his back, his arm crushed beneath him.
The wind is knocked out of his lungs and his head is ringing, but the mask is askew and he can't fathom the furious tripping of his heart as he looks up into eyes the color of a forest after a rainstorm.
Thick, dark, short hair with auburn highlights surrounds her angelic face. Eyelashes, black as night and thick as honey, blink rapidly at him. Thin, elegant lips fall open into a sensual O as if beckoning him to kiss her. Model cheeks flush from his scrutiny.
She's bending towards him, small breasts straining against the tight, off-white, button-up blouse. Long legs encased in skinny jeans that look like they were tailored just for her, - practically a second skin, and her ensemble is topped off with those infuriatingly sexy heels.
Blood soars to his cock as he thinks about peeling away those jeans away from her hips, - with just his mouth.
"God, you're beyond gorgeous," falls from his lips.
Shock flits through those hazel eyes before desire claims their depths, making them gloriously murky.
With a seductive smile, she pounces on him like a prowling jaguar who's suddenly cornered its prey.
Pounces, attacks and slowly devours him.
