Chapter 4

The brownies were baking in the oven and everything else was simmering when the doorbell rang. Rick practically flew to the door. They had been apart less than 12 hours, but it felt like a month. He opened the door to greet a slightly bashful Kate. "Come in, come in." he urged, with a hand at her back. He helped her take her jacket off, then folded her into a hug. He drew back and kissed her, wishing he could give her a homecoming like this every night. But this isn't her home! A voice in his head whispered. Not yet a stronger voice asserted. So strong, it almost sounded like it been spoken aloud.

A glance at Kate's confused face confirmed it. "Not yet what?" she asked, giving him kind of look she usually reserved for when he started spinning one of his over the top theories of the crime.

Crap, Ricky, THINK. Recover. You tell stories for a living. How hard can it be to explain why you are starting conversations in the middle?

"Um, I mean, dinner's not quite ready yet. Fix you a drink?" he finished, plastering what he hoped was a nonchalant on his face. The skepticism in hers told him he hadn't quite succeeded, but then she just smiled. "Vodka and cranberry juice?" she asked.

He smiled back, relieved she had put her detective training away for the day. "Coming right up!"

He found her sitting on the couch. He handed over her drink, then made his excuses to check on dinner. He returned to the couch and held his hand out to help her up. "Dinner is served, m' lady." She followed him into the dining room, where the table was set, complete with taper candles glowing brightly. She sat down, and once he was seated, dipped her spoon in her soup and tasted it. She closed her eyes, just for a second. "Mmmmm" she said appreciatively, then dug in for more. Rick was thrilled she liked it.

They finished their soup, then Rick got up to go to the kitchen. He returned with two plates piled with pasta. He placed one in front of her, then sat down and waited. She sampled the al fredo pasta and gave him a happy look. "Oh wow. I could get used to this…" she said.

Inside, Rick was doing a victory dance to beat all. He smiled as though he had won the lottery. After dinner, Kate insisted on helping him clear the table. She expected to find a disaster in the kitchen, but he was apparently the sort of cook who cleaned as he went. He took the dishes from her hands and put them in the sink to soak. He took the brownies out of the oven to cool, then slapped at Kate's hand with the spatula as she tried to pinch a piece from the tray.

They went back to the living room to relax and let dinner settle. Rick sat down on the couch, pulling Kate down next to him, then curled an arm around her shoulders to bring her in for a kiss. She turned toward him and kissed him in return, then pulled back and shifted to lean against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Dinner was amazing, and you have no idea what a favor you did for me by going vegetarian tonight," she said.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

She took him through the details of the day, shuddering as she described the body. He rubbed her shoulders as she talked, then gently pushed her away from him and guided her onto her stomach so that he could rub her back. This time she offered no protest when he slid her blouse up to gain full access to her back muscles. One hand left her skin and she heard him fishing in a drawer in the side table. She pinned him with a playfully scandalized look when he asked her to remove her blouse entirely.

He was the picture of innocence as he held up a bottle of oil. "Don't want to stain your blouse, do we? My dry cleaner has a hell of a time getting this stuff out."

She was tempted to ask just how many times he had challenged his dry cleaner with this task, and more importantly, whose clothing had been involved, but thought better of it. They were both consenting adults with histories. She simply complied.

This caused Rick to pause. Compliant Kate wasn't something he was accustomed to. He dripped the oil into his hands first to warm it, then began massaging her back again. She let out a few soft moans as his hands worked the muscles of her back. "Feels wonderful," she said, her voice slightly muffled by the couch cushion. When his hands started to slip beneath the waistband of her pants, he felt a shock of pain in his thigh. He looked down to discover that her left hand, limp with relaxation seconds ago, was pinching him. She had almost gotten a far more vital area. He whimpered and removed his hand. This was the Kate he was used to, but they should be far past the "swatting down advances" stage. "What was that for?" he asked petulantly.

The note in his voice told her she had hurt more than his leg. Kate flipped herself over to look at him. He was kneeling beside her, and quickly sat back on his heels in case she planned to hurt him again. She smiled to prove she wasn't angry, except at herself. "I'm sorry. Really. It isn't much of an excuse, but try to remember that you have been coming on to me for how long? Almost two years? My defenses are almost instinctive. It's going to take some time to squash those reflexes. Forgive me?" She asked.

To show he accepted her apology, he kissed her, then motioned for her to turn back over, and resumed the massage. When he was done, he gave her one of his t-shirts to wear, in case there was oil left on her skin.

"Thanks" she whispered, before kissing him again. As she did so, her hands went to the buttons on his shirt. She pulled away as she got the last one undone. She caught a look in his eyes that suggested he was coming undone as well. She smiled coyly, slid her hands around to his back and stroked up and down. "Ooh, your turn. Seems you don't have good posture when you write, you are all knotted up."

He slid his shirt off and lay down. Because she didn't have the arm reach that he did, and mostly because she liked to keep him guessing, she stepped up onto the couch and sat down straddling him. Funny how that made him seem less relaxed. She chuckled to herself. She drizzled the oil down his spine, causing him to shiver. Here again was this heady feeling of control.

She slid her hands up his spine, over his shoulders, down his arms, kneading his triceps. She reversed the path, then at the base of his spine her hands split slightly, to caress his ribs then shoulder blades.

Kate continued this pattern for a few minutes, then stood up and instructed him to turn over. She began to massage his chest, her eyes locked on his, until he could withstand no more. He sat up and grabbed her for a breath-stealing kiss.

"Come upstairs with me, please?" Rick said softly. He actually sounded unsure of himself, which Kate found hard to believe. She doubted he ever needed to do more than crook a finger to get women into his bedroom…she stopped that train of thought. There was NO point in getting catty about his past.

She nodded, holding his gaze as she stood up. He held out his hand and she allowed him to lead her up the stairs and into his bedroom. The air smelled of jasmine. He pulled back the comforter to reveal sea green satin sheets. They undressed one another slowly, kissing, tasting, discovering until nothing but the air stood between them.

He picked her up as if she weighed nothing and lowered her to the bed. She loved the sensation of the satin beneath her. He took a rose from a vase she hadn't noticed earlier, and held it beneath her nose so that she could appreciate the scent. Then he trailed it across her cheek, down her neck, down the valley between her breasts, across inch her stomach, down her hip toward her knee, ending by tickling the bottom of her foot. Never in her life had a flower been given such an erotic role. He laid the flower aside and began to kiss every square that the flower had touched. While the flower's trip had occurred in near silence, (for Kate had been holding her breath), this return voyage was accompanied by a low moan akin to purring. When his lips reached the tip of her nose, she shifted her head so that he kissed her lips. She begged him to take her, and he happily complied. Their climax was swift, powerful, and nearly simultaneous. As they lay cuddling, Castle whispered "You know what I really, really want?"

Kate dared not answer. Whatever it was, she was sure it would be at least an hour before she had the strength to try it. He turned her face toward him so that he could read her look of trepidation, and laughed out loud. "Oh you naughty girl, you have your mind in the gutter. I will get you to tell me what's got you looking like that, because I am really intrigued to find out what you THINK I want. I will leave you alone for a moment, so that you can ponder how I plan to extract that information," he said, sounding like a B movie villain. All he needed was a mustache to twirl. Then in a completely different, bright tone, he added "Be right back..."