Chapter 11

"Stop hovering over my shoulder," Beckett scolds him as Castle tries to read the information on the screen of his laptop. Somehow the detective has managed to commandeer his desk and chair, and the writer has been relegated to second place in his own office.

"No fair," he protests, "it's my computer that you're using after all. It's my apartment so I deserve at least some hovering rights."

"Castle, I'm making printouts for all of us so there's no need for you to read over my shoulder like that. Why don't you go and get changed out of those stained clothes while it's printing? The boys will be here in thirty minutes and we can all go over it then."

"Fine," Castle is sighing and pouting as he wanders off to the bedroom.

The detective rolls her eyes at the overly dramatic exit, it's clear that Martha isn't the only actor in the family. Her concentration is soon drawn back to the screen though as data reveals an interesting pattern of extravagant living, far too much for someone pulling in an FBI agent's salary.

Castle shrugs out of the coffee stained shirt and tosses it into the wicker laundry basket. There's a fresh blue button down waiting on the bed but he doesn't reach for it. He's feeling too grimy to just put on clean clothes and there's still plenty of time for a quick shower.

Soon the warm spray of water from the shower head is beating down on his head, washing away the sticky feeling of dried coffee. He sings along to Linkin Park's Numb. It was the last song playing on the radio on their drive back to the loft and he can't get it out of his head. Of course he can only remember about three quarters of the words but that doesn't stop him from belting out his shower version of American Idol. Castle's singing voice is fairly decent, nowhere near professional quality but you don't grow up with a Broadway Diva for a mother and not know how to carry a tune.

The orange light on the printer blinks at her as it beeps a warning tone. Load paper tray is the warning message on the little screen. Beckett scans his office looking for another ream of printer paper but there doesn't appear to be any. Surely Castle must have some paper stored away somewhere? After all, he is a writer. But the search through the shelves in his office is fruitless.

"Castle, where do you keep your A4 paper?" she yells at the closed bedroom door. "The printer's run out." The only answer that she gets is silence. The detective wanders over to knock on the door, "Castle?" There's still no reply so she tentatively tries the door handle, "Hey I need some more …" Whatever she was about to say is wiped from her mind by the image of her ex-lover exiting from the bathroom with only a towel covering his hips.

It's hardly indecent; he's more covered up than some men at the beach. Plus Beckett has seen this and a lot more of his body before, a lot more. She's telling herself all of this as she tries to beat back the blush that is staining her cheeks. Be professional, she reprimands herself silently. Ignore the fact that he's half naked.

It's easier said than done, especially as there's a tempting droplet of water snaking its way down over his clavicle and onto the swell of his chest. Unconsciously she licks her lip, telegraphing what she'd like to do to that fortunate little drop.

He looks over at her from under the cover of the other towel that he's using to dry his hair. "You need …?" he prompts her as the silence stretches out. "Beckett?"

"Harrummph," she clears her throat, pretending that's the reason for her delay in replying. "I need some more paper for the printer. Where do you keep it?"

"There's some in the bottom right drawer of my desk."

"Oh … ok, thanks." Now all she had to do was peel her eyes off him, turn around and close the door. Her brain is screaming at her to do it but her body has decided to go on strike, it remembers what it's like to be with this man and it's stubbornly refusing to go anywhere. Her feet are rooted to the floor and her gaze is greedily eating him up.

Castle can read the conflict brewing inside the detective, after all this time he's become very good at deciphering her little tells. Watching her has been his job for the last three years. "Was there something else that you wanted?" he asks with a grin on his lips.

"No, nothing else," this is her cue to beat a hasty retreat but her body is still stubbornly refusing to cooperate.

"I only ask because you're still hovering. If it's a show that you want then I don't mind," his hand comes down to rest on where the towel is folded in on itself at his waist, that casual half hitch is the only thing that's preserving his modesty at the moment. "I won't tell your boyfriend if you don't," Castle promises.

Boyfriend? What the hell was he going on about? Oh. It takes Beckett a moment to catch up. Rick still thinks that the man he saw exiting her apartment a few months ago, the man he almost got into a fight with, is her boyfriend. She's never corrected that mistaken impression.

"Tell Aaron what? There's nothing to tell him," Beckett says.

A jealous haze clouds the writer's brain at the casual way Kate, his Kate, mentions another man's name. Confusing, obstinate woman, she keeps trying to push him away but at the same time she does things like this which pull him back in. The way her eyes are devouring him is almost a physical sensation.

"Nothing to tell him? So it's ok to look as long as you don't touch?" he taunts her. "So tell me Kate, do you like what you see?"

She affects an air of indifference, "You can stop trying to push my buttons Castle; I've seen it all before."

"That's true," he tilts his head in acknowledgement of the truth of her statement. "You have seen it all before. I guess you won't mind if I get dressed then." That's all the warning she gets before he lets the towel slide to the ground.

Her eyes immediately go south before she catches herself. Beckett pulls them back up to his face but it's too late.

"You … you tricked me, I didn't mean to look," she stutters. "You just caught me by surprise."

Neither of them believes the lie. The sly grin on his face just keeps getting bigger in proportion to the blush that's heating up her face. He's the one who is standing there naked and yet she's the one who is embarrassed.

"Well I'm not tricking you now. Fair warning Kate, you have about ten seconds to leave this room before we both end up in that bed. It's your choice and you'd better make a decision quickly," he tells her.

"Ten …"

"You're bluffing Castle."

"Nine …" his hand reaches down to cup himself.

"You're only embarrassing yourself here," she huffs.

"Seven …"

She fixes her eyes firmly above his shoulders but she can tell that he's stroking himself. The way that the lines at the side of his eyes tighten is a dead give away that the man is getting excited; she's seen that look on his face before.

"Stop it Castle. You're not some horny sixteen year old boy, you need to act your age," the detective warns him.

"Four …"

Castle stalks towards her, stalk is the perfect ward to describe the deliberate way he walks towards her. In this situation she knows that she is the prey. If she had any sense she would turn tail and run but sanity seems to have deserted her. Instead Beckett stands her ground, her chin tilted up in a challenging manner.

"One."

He cups that stubborn chin in one hand as he searches her eyes. "Time's up." That's the only warning that she gets before his mouth swoops down to claim her lips.

His tongue teases along the seam and the fight that she has is more with herself than with him as she tries to deny him entry. He doesn't force his way in, instead he coaxes her with a soft bite on her lower lip.

Homicide detective Kate Beckett is a strong woman; she can ignore the heat of his mouth on hers. The grip of his arms pressing her against his bare chest can be put aside. But even strong women have their breaking points and the grind of his hips against her abdomen tips her over the edge. She can feel his growing erection prodding into her belly, the friction is too high though and not where she needs it.

"You drive me crazy," she moans as her arms snake up around his torso to pull him closer, whether it's a compliment or a curse neither of them can tell. Soon there are no more words as her lips part to take his plundering tongue. He's devouring her and her whole body to straining to dive even further into the maelstrom. Her thighs part slightly and he takes the silent invitation, sliding one of his legs between hers.

It feels sooo good as Kate rubs herself up and down against his thigh. Even with the fabric of her trousers between them, the pressure is building up inside her as she keeps grinding her pelvis in small circles against him.

Her traitorous legs, which only moments before refused to move, are now readily following his lead as he backs her up to the edge of the bed.

The stretchy material of her v-neck pullover is strained as he whips it over her head. Thank god she's not wearing a dress shirt today because he doesn't have the patience to deal with any buttons now. His busy fingers have her bra undone and off before she's even aware. Strong hands cup her butt to boost her up so that her breasts are at his face level and then he's latching onto a stiff peak. Kate arches her back at the slightly rough rasp of his tongue over the sensitive nipple. "More Rick, more," she demands.

And then suddenly she's falling, her arms outstretched as she hits the luxurious cushioning of his bed. Her wide startled eyes look up to the evil grin on his face. He looks down at the tempting feast of her body, all graceful lines and subtle curves on display for him. Beckett would never admit it but she loves it when he takes control like this. Rick Castle is usually so metrosexual that it still stuns her when he shows this other dominating side to his personality. Tender and soft can be wonderful but greedy and passionate is what she needs right now.

But that doesn't mean that she's just going to lie back and play passive, if anything his aggression calls out to her own. Her direct gaze challenges him as she does a slow stretch, her arms stretched out above her. Beckett is not about to let him have it all his own way. The sinuous movement causing his eyes to heat even more, the blue orbs are like lasers as they burn into her skin.

Beckett isn't sure how she ends up naked, it happens so quickly. The next thing she's conscious of is the grip of his hands forcing her thighs even further apart so that he can settle between her legs.

The writer's clever fingers are everywhere; stroking down the curve of her neck, lightly pinching her painfully tight nipples, slipping into the moist cavern of her sex.

"You're dripping wet Kate," he tells her in a husky whisper. "Hot and wet for me."

The explicit words make the ache between her thighs tighten even more and Beckett's control breaks. She takes his erection in hand and guides the first inch inside her, a quick buck of her hips and she's deliciously impaled on that maddening rod.

Her movements take him by surprise but the writer is quick to adapt, the tempo of his hips matching hers. Each hard thrust stretches her thinly around that thick cock, the tension drawing ever tighter until finally the thread snaps and she diving head-first over the edge. Her body spasms, milking him as her orgasm rolls out.

Her low moan is matched by his growling rumble as he reaches his own climax.

His hand strokes her back in the aftermath, their bodies are sated but nothing has changed. He wishes that they could stay here, just like this forever, but he knows that reality will rear its head again eventually.

"You're breaking my heart Kate," he whispers softly.

It's not a recrimination or the opening jab to start another fight; just a statement of the facts. It still punches a staggering blow of pain; she'd give anything to spare him this.

Castle is such a good man, he deserves so much better than this, better than she can offer him.

"I'm sorry Rick."

There's not much point in carrying on the pretence of indifference. He's always known her too well to be deceived by it.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Beckett places a soft kiss over his heart like she's kissing it better. If only it was that easy to mend. "If it's any consolation then my heart is breaking too." It doesn't encompass all the things that he means to her but it's the closest that she'll come to admitting her feelings.

He hears the underlying message in her words. I love you too and this changes nothing.

The sound of chime of his door bell breaks the spell. Beckett jumps up like a scalded cat at the interruption, quickly picking up her clothes as she makes a run for the bathroom.

"Kate?" he's too slow to grab her before she's out of his reach. He half sits up as he watches her retreating back. "Wait! We should talk."

"Not now Castle. That will be Ryan and Esposito, you should get dressed and let them in," she says before closing the door.

Rick lets his head fall back onto the pillow with a defeated sigh. Making love to Kate could have been either the best or the stupidest thing that he could have done. At this point in time he can't make be sure which of the two options it is.