A/N: Apologies for the late update this time around. Internet difficulties conspired against me and I also had a hard to decision to make with this chapter. While most of you said you were completely fine with me bumping the rating of this story up to M, others in your number said they would rather I kept this rated to T. With that in mind, I decided that I would keep this chapter and those that will follow as a T, but post the M rated version of this chapter (and any others that may follow – I haven't thought that far ahead yet) as separate stories. That way, this story stays T rated, but those of you who wanted to read the M rated stuff still can. The story is called 'Notches on the Bedpost' Because of this, obviously I had two chapters to write – in addition to my other stories – so it took me a little longer. Hopefully, you guys are okay with this decision and still enjoy this chapter.


His lips are barely on hers for more than a second before they're moving down to her neck, lathing over where her pulse pounds against her skin. Her traitorous body works against her, hands rising to lock around his neck and pin him in place against her because damn him the way he's working his mouth over her skin feels good. Not just in a you're-a-pretty-good-kisser way but in a holy-shit-take-me-now way. How he knows exactly where her sensitive spot is – the one that literally makes her weak in the knees and has her gripping tightly to his biceps – would be a pressing issue if her mind wasn't clouded with lust.

It takes him mere seconds to take off her coat and unbutton her shirt and then his hands are on her, everywhere all at once. Her skin erupts in a trail of gooseflesh everywhere his calloused fingers touch her skin and she trembles under his ministrations, warmth pooling in her middle when his lips find her clavicle.

She's not even moved, her muscles seemingly locked in place – the hold she has on his head probably painful now – and yet he's still kissing her, unperturbed by her lack of reciprocation. Hell, she's actually embarrassed by the fact that he's managed to take off her shirt and is fingering the clasp of her bra, teasing her and she hasn't made a single move towards equalling their level of dress. He's already had to remove his own coat.

"Where's the bedroom?" he mumbles against her skin, startling her into movement finally. When she spins, his hands land somewhere near her waist and his lips press against her neck, the tip of his nose disturbing her hair as he deliberately inhales the aroma of cherries. Her breath catches and she gasps audibly. She feels him grinning in response, his smug smile etching into her back when he ducks and presses a kiss between her shoulder blades. She gets the last laugh though. Reaching a hand back and palming him through his pants earns her a strangled noise before she releases him and leads the way into her dark bedroom, saucily swaying her hips because she knows he's watching.


Only the moonlight illuminates her naked form. It shines off of the thin film of sweat that coats her body, showing her chest rapidly rising and falling while she comes down from her euphoric high. God, it's beautiful, he thinks. She's beautiful.

"That was-" he breaks off, tries desperately to think of a word that appropriately describes how earth-shattering that experience was before only lamely coming up with, "wow!" He doesn't notice her flinch when he splays one of his palms across her stomach or the way her eyes flick to him before filling with regret.

She jerks upright and grabs for the bedsheet, covering her modesty from him.

"Kate?" he asks, propping himself on his elbow, looking at her with concern.

The use of her first name makes her cringe and want to bolt for the door but she tames the reaction and instead forces herself to look at him. "This was a mistake. Y-you should go, Castle." After that she stands and walks into her bathroom, desperately trying not to show how much her legs shake, and locks the door behind her, running a shower. He can hear the water and for a minute he stays there lying on her bed and staring, expecting the door to open again and for her to walk out and say she was joking because how could something so perfect, so right have been a mistake. When it's clear she's not coming out, he stands and shuffles about her bedroom, numbly collecting his clothes.


Hesitance pervades as she eases the door open and then breathes a sigh of relief at the sight of her empty bedroom. He's gone, thankfully. Not that she'd expected him to stick around, not after he'd made his conquest.

She tiptoes barefoot, clad only in the towel she'd wrapped around her body after showering, through her dark apartment to make sure her front door is deadbolted. On the way back to her bedroom, she doesn't bother turning lights on, but at the sight of her messy bed she halts. It's a shameful reminder of what she's just left happen. Instead she grabs a blanket so she can sleep on the couch for the night. She wants a peaceful night's sleep, but the ghost of his touch refuses to leave her. She can still feel his fingers digging into the skin of her hips, remembers the scrape of his stubble on the insides of her thighs. The memory of him burns on her skin and in her memory.

When she stumbles into work the next morning, with tired and bloodshot eyes hidden beneath layer upon layer of makeup, she just wants the day to be over. She's hoping for a chance to work through the pile up of paperwork on her desk rather than an open case. She doesn't have the energy to think hard enough to solve a case and it kills her a little bit inside that she's going to be failing at her job today.

"Beckett." It's curt and it jolts her in her chair.

"Castle, what are you doing here?" she hisses, launching her body out of her chair and hussling him straight into the breakroom. "Out!" It's an order, a command that gets the two junior detectives straight into the bullpen even though she technically has no authority over them. As she shuts the blinds, she sees both Esposito and Ryan peering over from their desks, blatantly spying. The sigh stokes her fire, feeds and fuels her ire. "You shouldn't be here."

"I came to work," he argues, nettled by her harsh and cold tone. "I need to observe you, remember? For my book?"

"No, you need to leave. I don't want you here."

"Why? Because we slept together? Because you lied to me? Why, Beckett?"

Her steel eyes bore through him as she grits her teeth, and then yells, "Shut up, Castle!"

They're toe to toe and though she's wearing a pair of her stiletto-heeled boots, he's still an inch or two taller than her. Her eyes blaze no less though as she glares up at him, the both of them locked in some kind of bubble of anger.

Suddenly, though, the door is open and Esposito is looking in, eyes moving between them. "There a problem here?"

"No," Beckett replies tightly before squeezing past. From her desk she watches Castle join Espo at Ryan's desk, the three of them gossiping like mother hens. Her heart sinks as she watches Esposito bump fists with him. The idea that he's told Ryan and Espo is unbearable, even more so than knowing that she has just become another notch on his bedpost.


A/N: Let me know what you thought!

Also, I am so sorry I have been unable to reply to your reviews from the last chapter. As I briefly said earlier, I've had no internet since Monday. What I'm using to upload this is a day pass I had to buy and it's about to run out. I read every single one of your reviews though and I'm so grateful that so many of you take the time to tell me what you think. I'm glad you're enjoying the story.