A/N: This is the chapter which shifts the rating up to M. If that's not your cup of tea, message me, and I'll fill you in. Regular T rating will return next chapter. *blushes*
Chapter Eleven
Shit. The doorbell buzzed at five to seven and Kate wasn't ready. She wasn't close to ready. She'd taken the subway home, and spent the rest of the afternoon in her loft, trying to resist the temptation to throw herself into her armchair with her new (and signed!) copy of A winter to die.
She'd flounced around, running another load of laundry, and drinking a cup of green tea in an attempt to calm herself; another coffee wasn't going to do her any favors at the moment. Then she'd combed through her closet, staring at every item she owned and marveling at just how unsatisfactory each dress was.
She'd settled on a red, off-the-shoulder number eventually, shimmying into stockings; the chill of the New York spring evening made bare legs an impossibility. She replaced her watch with a chunky gold bangle, running a straightener through her long dark hair. She wondered, not for the first time, whether she should chop it off again, but the idea of cropped hair, stupid though it was, reminded her too much of her early days on the force. She was a different person now. A happier person, she reminded herself. She'd let all that go. And now- before she could get too lost in her own morose thoughts, or call Lanie for moral support- he was here.
Beckett buzzed Castle into the building and grabbed the nearest pair of heels, stepping into them and opening the front door.
She smiled, taking him in. He cleaned up nice. His blue shirt had her staring into his eyes for a moment too long before she moved back, clearing her throat when she realized he was staring back at her.
"Come in," she told him, and he stepped lightly over the threshold, tearing his eyes from her and looking around the loft appreciatively.
"Nice," he told her. "Very… Beckett. Very Kate."
"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes, unable to help herself. "And you can tell this at a glance, can you?"
He shot her an amused look and handed her the flowers he was holding; a beautiful and understated bunch of deep red peonies. "For you. And I can. I saw your desk at the precinct," he reminded her, and she tilted her head at him in surprise.
"So?"
"So, I saw that even at a police precinct there's room for detectives to put a little color on their desks. Now, Ryan and Esposito, they didn't have much. But you- you made room for elephant figurines. And so, Detective, yes, I can tell that this place is very you, just like I can tell that your desk at the precinct is very you, and the facade you present to the world? The hard-nosed detective? She's only part of the mystery."
"I see," Kate said, taken aback. "Well, um… thanks for the flowers." She nodded. "Give me a second- I'll find a vase."
Kate sipped the wine, swirling the dark liquid around in her mouth before swallowing, enjoying the way the liquid warmed her as it slid down her throat. She looked across the table at Rick.
She had pictured a few of the big name New York restaurants, and she'd shuddered, but Castle had selected a cozy restaurant. She was seriously impressed by this location; it wasn't the kind of place that lent itself to a first date. Instead, the couples around them looked comfortable, and Kate settled back, appreciative of the ambiance.
"I've been coming here for years," he told her, apparently reading her mind. "Maybe it's not the fanciest place, or the most romantic, but it's got the best Pad Thai in Tribeca."
She smiled. "It's perfect."
It didn't hurt that Thai lent itself to sharing the dishes, and she opened her mouth, accepting the spoonful of green curry with a wry raise of her eyebrows; this felt awfully intimate, but she was helpless to stop herself.
The wine, she thought. She could blame the wine. It was loosening her up, relaxing her, and letting her do things she wouldn't normally do. Because a date with a minor celebrity was definitely not something Kate Beckett would normally do.
Rick reached for the bottle and topped up Kate's glass before filling his own. "Can I ask you about your job?" he asked, and she shrugged.
"Why, Castle? Is it going to make it into your next book?"
"God, I hope so," he smirked, but he shook his head. "I don't know. Not if you don't want it to."
She raised her eyebrows. "O-kay." She stretched the word out, hesitant.
"Why homicide?" he asked, using a piece of roti bread to mop up some of the sauce from the duck curry.
She shrugged. "I worked vice when I first made detective. Worked vice a lot as an officer, too. Did my share of time in narcotics, I guess. But there was an opening for a homicide detective not long after I started in vice."
Beckett helped herself to more noodles while Rick regarded her for a moment. "It drives you though, doesn't it? It's not just a job the way vice or narcotics might be, is it?"
Beckett took another sip of her wine, considering her answer. "Every body that I meet used to be someone, and every one of those people has family, friends, somebody, who wants- who needs- answers."
Castle stared at her for a moment. "Are you still waiting for answers, Kate?"
"What?" She raised her eyebrows at him, laying her fork down beside her plate.
Castle shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"
Kate cut him off. "Why'd you kill Derrick Storm?"
"Oooh." He laughed. "Is this what you're like in interrogation? The suspect starts to feel comfortable, and then- bam!- you turn the tables?"
"Yes, Castle," Kate said, rolling her eyes. "This is exactly how I interrogate all my suspects. I talk about my personal life over red wine."
"Touché," he said, with another chuckle before his expression sobered. "I killed Storm because I was bored. I was just so… bored."
"You were bored?"
He nodded, bringing his wine glass to his lips. In spite of herself, Kate found she was watching him, watching the glass meet his mouth, imagining for a second how it would feel to have that mouth upon her… she was torn from that train of thought when Rick set his wine glass down again and spoke. "I knew what was going to happen. Every time. Every plot I came up with." He sighed. "Of course, it backfired, because I still owed Gina a book-"
"Who's Gina?" Kate asked. The name sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it. Well, she supposed, she may have been familiar with Rick's page six exploits, but she wasn't exactly a mega fan who concerned herself with the ins and outs of the people in the publishing industry.
"My ex-wife," he said.
"Oh. Alexis' mom. Wait- why did you owe your ex-wife a book?"
He shook his head. "Gina's also my publisher. And no, not Alexis' mom."
Oh. Oh. That was right; Ryan had spoken to a woman named Meredith when Alexis was kidnapped, Kate remembered now. Rick Castle had been married not once, but twice. "Right." Beckett raised her eyebrows, before realizing; conversation about Castle's ex-wives probably wasn't the best idea for their first date.
"Anyway," he continued. "I still owed Gina a book, but suddenly I was writing without inspiration and also without Derrick Storm." He paused. "You've read them, right? Gun shy. Not exactly my best work."
Kate shrugged, not about to tell her favorite author that his latest books weren't up to the standard she'd come to expect, and she had to laugh at herself as she realized, again, she was on a date with her favorite author.
"I hope you find some inspiration again," she said at last, and was surprised by the heat in his eyes as he looked across the table at her.
"I think I have," he said.
Kate took another sip of her wine. The buzz was definitely… getting to her and she watched Castle across the table, convinced it was getting to him too. His eyes were dark and he had been looking at her intently for the last few minutes, apparently content to sit without small talk for a time. And his hands… Kate was torn between staring at his mouth, with the occasional glance up at his eyes, and staring at his hands wrapped around the stem of his glass, wondering just how it would feel to have them on her.
She swallowed hard when she realized she was thinking when, not if.
"Do you want dessert?" he asked at last, his low voice breaking the silence, and she shook her head.
"Let's get out of here."
He nodded, signaling to the waiter for the check, and Beckett watched impatiently as he scrawled a signature on the credit card slip.
"After you," he said, as they stood. He retrieved her jacket and slipped it over her shoulders, his fingers lingering, cool on her warm skin, and she shivered. "You look beautiful tonight," he told her, his hands still on her shoulder, his breath a welcome caress at her ear.
He followed her out the front door of the restaurant, taking her hand and leading her to the waiting car service.
Seating herself behind the driver, Beckett bit her lip as Castle crowded in beside her, waiting breathlessly as he scooted over to sit right next to her. He gave the driver her address, then took her hand again, his left entwining with her right; running his thumb over hers, back and forth.
Kate was forced to take a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmingly aroused; if this was her reaction to a little hand holding, well, she may as well be a teenager again. She shivered as he kept his grip firm, and reached his right hand over to caress her leg; her dress rose above her knees, and he slipped his hand beneath it easily, gliding his fingers over her lower thigh before moving up, just a little. A little too much. A little bit like nowhere near enough.
Beckett shifted; God, she wanted him to touch her, but she was painfully aware they were in a car, and she swatted his hand away eventually, laying her own hand on his thigh. It took everything she had to refrain from moving her own hand up his thigh, holding deliberately still as if in demonstration of how to behave.
The car pulled up in front of her building, and the driver cleared his throat to get their attention.
Beckett bit her lip; she couldn't remember the last time she'd brought someone home after a first date. She'd had a handful of one night stands in college and during her early days on the force, but since then she'd usually held out, waiting a few weeks before she went to bed with someone. And she wasn't going to try and kid herself; if Castle came upstairs with her now, she was going to go to bed with him.
"You… do you wanna come up for coffee?" she asked at last, and Castle nodded.
"I- uh- yeah," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with desire, and she stepped out of the car after him, letting him hold the door open for her and then close it; they watched the car drive off for a second, and she took a deep breath.
"Come on," she managed, and she unlocked the building's front door. He followed her in, right on her heels. She fumbled with her keys again in front of her apartment for a second, finding the right one and twisting it in the lock. The door swung open, and she stepped inside, closing the door after Castle and reaching out to flip the lock shut.
"So… coffee?" Castle asked, and she whirled around; he was right beside her and she sidestepped him just a little, finding her back against the door.
"Sure," she agreed, nodding, but instead of stepping toward the kitchen she reached for Castle, her hands fisting each side of his jacket, pulling him in closer to her. He hesitated for just a split second, taking the time to look into her eyes.
"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes dark with desire, and she didn't have to ask him to clarify.
"I'm sure," she told him, leaning in closer and meeting his lips with her own. "I'm sure," she said again.
He pressed his mouth to hers, insistent, pulling her lower lip into his mouth and teasing it between his teeth before releasing it and opening his mouth, meeting her tongue with his own.
Castle's hands made their way into her hair, and Kate kissed him back, hard; the juxtaposition between his soft mouth and the hard door was doing it for her and she widened her stance a fraction, letting him press his leg between hers. Involuntarily she rocked against him, releasing his jacket to run her hands over his arms and then around his back, pulling him closer.
His mouth was on her neck now, and she leaned her head back, allowing him to suck at her throat- oh, God, just like that, and she sighed, a breathy sound that had her questioning just what had happened to her that she was letting go this easily, this much, this soon.
Castle shifted again, his leg pressing more insistently between her own, and a welcome hardness pressed against her stomach. She pushed him back suddenly, startling him.
"Kate?" he asked.
"Couch, Castle," she managed, and she kicked her shoes off, padding from the entry way into the living room. Castle was never more than a step away from her, and she pushed him down onto the sofa, straddling him before leaning in to kiss him again. From this angle she could run her hands down his front, to his thighs, to the hardness between them, and she grinned, fumbling with his belt. She unclasped it, concentrating as she undid the button on his pants and slid down the zipper, before slipping her hand into his pants and running her hand along him.
She closed her eyes as she touched him, because, damn, this was working for her, and she gasped as he rocked her gently backwards, flipping them around so she was lying beneath him on the sofa, her hands falling from him.
He crouched over her, placing a light kiss on her lips before running a hand along her bare shoulder, making his way down her body, pausing to palm her breast- and fuck she needed her bra off so she could feel his hand against her bare nipple. The thought was soon forgotten; he'd gotten her dress up around her waist, and was slowly peeling her stockings off- she needed him to hurry; she didn't give a fuck if he tore them because she needed him inside her, now.
Finally- finally- her stocking were off and he shifted his weight back onto her. His mouth met hers, his fingers teasing as he ran barely there fingertips over her, touching her oh-so-lightly- through damp panties, before finally pushing her thong to the side and running his fingers over her. His thumb found her clit and she fought the urge to cry out.
He stopped before she could go over the edge, pulling his hand from her and pushing at his own pants to get them out of the way. He aligned himself with her, sliding inside and raising his hand and twisting it through her hair as he moved with her.
She rose to meet him, catching his eye; this wasn't going to last long for her, and if the look in his eyes was any indication, neither was he. She moaned and he drew a deep breath, asking, "Kate?"
"I'm close," she managed, and then, "fuck, Castle."
He chuckled, a low throaty sound at her ear. 'Yes," she heard, and then her name like a chant. "Kate, Kate, Kate."
He thrust again, a slow, steady throbbing within her, and then once more, faster this time, and that was all it took; she shattered around him with just enough presence of mind to realize that as his breathing quickened and he let out her name one more time; he was right behind her.
A/N: Thanks for the beta, K. :) Hope everyone enjoyed that chapter! I'll be over here blushing at the fact there's now a story in my repertoire which is rated other than T.
