{This chapter is for missy52061 & GirlfromDK whose reviews make my heart smile}
Thank U for the Guest Review of: Castle and Gemma FTW! *blushing* and stop screaming all you avid Caskett fans, lol, as Rick will stay true to Kate.
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Rick dreamed of swaying palm trees and hot sand beneath his feet, scrunching between his toes. The sun beat down relentlessly on the back of his neck. The beach was amazingly tranquil, beautiful, with endless grains of multicolored sand, the ocean an incredible turquoise blue with shells sprinkled along the shoreline. He noticed a crab lazily crawling along a piece of driftwood.
He put his arm to his forehead to shade the glare of the sun as he looked a ways ahead into the tropical forest. He caught a glimpse of endless legs, a scrap of deep purple fabric, and a flare of chocolate wavy hair with auburn high lights.
Kate.
He walked ardently towards her, - their incredible chemistry drawing him to her like a moth to a flame. As he rounded the bend he saw her, all smoky eyes and sensual curves and dazzling smile, laughing at something the Cabana boy had just said.
Yeah, even teenage boys find her smokin, he thought, overflowing with pride that the remarkable, gorgeous woman in the eggplant bikini belonged to him.
Thank God, she can't hear my thoughts or she'd taser me for that one, he inwardly chuckled. Detective Kate Beckett certainly doesn't belong to any man.
"Kaa - ate."
She turned to him at the use of her given name, wondering how he managed to sound whiny and so damn sultry at the same time.
"Yes, Castle?" She had to laugh at his adorable, pouty lower lip conveying his displeasure.
"How is it that an awkward, pimply faced teenager has spent more time with you today than I have?"
"Mmm," her arms curled around his broad shoulders and she stood on tiptoe to whisper seductively in his ear. "Because this boy, Manuel, has been catering to my every need in hopes of a very - big tip."
Oh Gawd, there were so many delicious, naughty ways he could take that response and run with it.
"Mmm, I was hoping to be the one to cater to every single one of your needs…" He nipped playfully at the swirl of her ear. "Especially when you need a big man to use his big – "
Her hand immediately sprung over his mouth. "Don't you dare finish that sentence Richard Edgar Castle," she whispered, "As there are barely-legal ears listening."
His deep laughter rumbled all the way through her fingertips, over her hand and spiraled through her arm, making her very aware of his male presence and her scantily-clad body, and how it was eagerly responding to his, umm, - big - everything.
"Cass - le," she said breathlessly just as his nose landed in her hair expecting to inhale a yummy, cherry cobbler scent.
What the - ? Her hair smelled like an overripe pineapple just pulled from the tree.
"Have you switched shampoos?" he asked curiously as his hand danced on her outer thigh, traipsing along the curve of her leg.
"No," she murmured into his neck, just as his hand twitched from something unfamiliar.
Her skin still felt smooth as silk, but slimmer than he expected, - the tense, defined muscles from hours of yoga were no longer there, - but soft, lean tissue resided in its place and when his hand caught in silky fabric he thought, When did she put on a swimsuit cover?
That itsy bitsy purple bikini designed to ignite every man's libido was now covered by a sheer white, delicate slip but he could still see Kate's nipples straining through the fabric.
She's simply stunning.
"You have no idea what you do to me, Detective Beckett," he said in that sinfully-erotic-voice-of-his that he knew drove her cray - zee.
"If I didn't have an idea," she purred, "Why would I buy this suit just for you?"
"For me?" he squeaked, getting lost in her luscious curves and that killer smile of hers coated in fire-engine red lipstick.
He thought naughtily how he longed to see that lipstick on another part of his body.
As his fingers trickled over the swell of her hip and her eyes darkened from their normal hazel to that lusty, exotic brown, - he surprisingly felt an angular, bony pelvis... Wait, - has she lost weight?
He gazed into her dreamy, lust-filled eyes and a "Ri - ck," filled with desire, floated from Kate's lips in a light, airy tone.
Except... It wasn't Kate's authoritative tone that registered, but Gemma Goodwin's melodic voice that filled his ears.
"Ri - ck."
His eyes opened wide and he found himself taking shallow breaths, breathing in Gemma's sweet pineapple scent.
His left hand had somehow made its way beneath her chemise and resided on the curve of her naked hip, his fingers curling into the nude flesh.
"Hell Gemma," he sat up suddenly. "I'm sorry. I was dreaming of Kate."
"I know," she whispered, still turned away from him so he couldn't see her face.
Why did she sound - almost wounded?
"I'm sorry," and her voice caught as she clasped the handcuff attached to his right wrist and quickly snapped it into the metal bed frame. "He's coming."
Within seconds of her snapping the handcuff shut, Rick heard the tell-tale heavy steps of Tyson in the hallway and then the slide of the lock on the other side of the door.
It tore at Gemma's heart strings seeing the raw hurt on his face, - how utterly disappointed he was that she didn't trust him enough to try and save them.
Her palm slid over his right cheek as she looked into his sleepy orbs. "I know you don't believe me, but I'm saving you."
Tyson strolled in the room with an arrogant grin smattered across his face.
"Good morning, Gem," and her insides quivered in disgust at the sight of him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes," and she forced out the words that she knew he expected to hear. "Thank you."
"And how about you, Castle?" he casually threw Rick's way, his dark eyes never leaving Gemma's body.
"Better than you, I expect."
He chuckled loudly, enthusiastically.
"Which means that you didn't take advantage of this beautiful, compelling woman… Tsk, tsk." He strolled forward and took Gemma's face in his hands, lifting her eyes to his. "Detective Beckett truly owns him now, doesn't she?"
She didn't answer, just kept her face neutral while he studied her lovely features, the dark lashes fanning her face, the parted lips that just beckoned to be kissed.
"You know," he turned Rick's way with a jovial aura, "I'm thoroughly going to miss her when she's no longer needed. She will be the one woman whom I find - difficult to strangle."
Upon hearing those unsettling words, the horror of what he'd done to Gemma the night before came crashing back to him and something unleashed in Rick then, - something violent, primal, - and he couldn't bear the thought of his dirty, malicious hands anywhere near her.
Without warning, Rick's free hand grabbed the front of Tyson's shirt and he yanked him menacingly towards him.
"You'd better be grateful, Tyson," he grated, "That I'm handcuffed right now or I'd happily tear you limb from limb."
Tyson didn't see it coming…
Rick snapped his forehead into his and the perfectly-timed-head-butt sent him sprawling onto the cement floor.
"That's just for her goose egg. I still have to pay you back for the slap to her cheek, the bruises around her neck and on her thighs… Let alone the absolute filth you did to her body, - and mark by words, Tyson… You're going to pay."
His cocky grin faded as fast as it had appeared. "You're going to regret that," he sneered while rubbing his aching forehead.
He pulled Gemma from the bed and into his arms, staying a safe distance away from Rick. With a satisfied smirk he said, "Ahh, so he's not as immune to your charms as I originally thought," he bent his head and kissed the top of her hair.
Blatant disgust curled his features. "You wreak of him," Tyson spat. "Go and shower. Get his repulsive smell off you."
"Funny," Rick gibed, "I was actually thinking the same thing about you."
"No, I won't," flew out of her mouth, startling both men.
"No?" Tyson grabbed both her cheeks and looked straight into crystal clear eyes. "You do not say, 'No' to me."
"I won't shower unless you have other clothes for me to wear." Her hands fiddled with the torn chemise, trying to keep it from falling open.
Tyson's hands delved into her straight hair, running the strands through his fingers. "This woman actually has some modesty… So rare in today's world." His fingers clenched and gripped the strands tightly. "I wasn't planning on punishing you this morning seeing that you obeyed me and he's handcuffed to the bed, but I'm happy to – " His lips ghosted over hers, "Shower you myself if you'd like."
Her eyes opened wide in fear. "No, I can do it but J.T. please," Rick could see how much it was costing her to have to beg, "I need another dress."
His voice softened to a tone which almost sounded like admiration. "I know you, - my little Gem. There's no need to worry. I've already set one out for you."
"You do NOT know me," she said icily, and jerked her head away from his hands as if burned by his touch.
"Oh, I beg to differ," he said with agitation dripping from every word… "You told me last night that you didn't give my message to Detective Beckett."
"You know I didn't."
His studied her intently, - the soft sheen of her eyes, the blush to her cheeks, the way her lips pursed together.
"Well then," and a wicked gleam shot from his eyes. "If you didn't give her my message, it's time I sent one of my own."
Gemma's eyes alighted in fear as she caught Rick's troubled gaze.
J.T. walked over to the end table and opened the drawer. He pulled out something metal. It was small, silver and shiny and Rick couldn't tell what it was until a stray sunbeam, filtering through the grimy window, caught the item and it gleamed in the morning light.
Fuck!
"I'm going to have so much fun sending your dear Detective a token of your stay here, Castle."
Rick's eyes narrowed and he backed away from him, straining his right wrist as he tried to get as far away from Tyson as possible. "Get that scalpel away from me."
Gemma watched aghast as J.T. slowly but surely advanced on Rick with the razor sharp scalpel in hand. She reached for his arm, begging him to stop.
"NO, J.T, I did as you requested. I spoke with Katherine. I told her she has just 5 days. Stop!"
He turned to her with repressed fury. "She's only got 4 days now as you'd say anything to save him. Get away from me," and he flung his arm towards her, shoving her out of the way.
Rick watched, as if in slow motion, as the curve of the blade arced and sliced into Gemma's tender skin. His gut clenched in agony as large, bright maroon drops splattered the cement floor. She doubled over in pain and her moan echoed off the cinderblock walls as she tried to stifle the blood dripping from her forearm.
"God dammit, Tyson!" Rick tried with his left hand to yank on the cuff to see if he could break free or at least bend the headboard, but to no avail… In his frustration to try and reach Gemma, he caused his own wrist to chafe raw and flicks of blood stained the cuff.
"Now look what you've made me do," J.T. turned cold eyes filled with hatred towards him. "She wasn't supposed to be cut."
Was that actual sorrow in his tone?
Tyson pulled out from his back pocket a small dart gun and aimed the weapon right at Rick's neck.
The last thing he heard before the tranquilizer hit him and rendered him unconscious was the spine-tingling scream of Gemma Goodwin.
…..
{Next 2 chapters, Kate and the boys}
