Disclaimer: I don't own Castle.

A/N: Two things: I didn't forget about posting this. I was horribly ill. Still recovering. Also, interesting things have happened in my life lately and expect more on that soon.

At some point hands had wandered. She felt his warm skin beneath her fingertips, realized she'd slipped them beneath his shirt mid kiss. Somewhere between him softly sucking at her bottom lip and her nipping at his. And now he was staring again. Barely inches away and just staring. Blue eyes open and she could see the worry, the fear, the way they darkened. And then she dropped her gaze back to his mouth. Wet, pink, hot and she wanted it back on hers, on her skin. Anywhere as long as he didn't stop.

It curled in her stomach, pooled low. A rush of liquid heat between her thighs. But he just stared at her, something gentle smoothing over his face.

"I'm sorry, Kate." His thumb rubbed at her cheek, smudging away the last of her tears and her stomach rolled uncomfortably.

She didn't move, wasn't sure she even breathed. She was silent, waiting, frowning up at him. Her head was aching and everything was still fuzzy, she didn't understand the sorrow in his tone or why he looked at her as though he didn't know what to do.

And then she heard him repeat it, the apology and she tensed, her hands dropped and she felt her heart slam into her ribs and drop down to her toes.

"No, no, not for...not for this. I'm so sorry you lost your mother."

It was weird. All of it. That she'd told him. That he'd kissed her and she'd kissed him back. And she'd expected him to push her away, give her some excuse for why they couldn't continue but he wasn't. He was rubbing her hip with one hand and stroking through the ratted pieces of hair that escaped her braid with the other.

It didn't hurt as bad with him around. The ache that had splintered her chest and left her cracked open since the night her mother died. Not even when he slowly sat up, abandoning her, letting cool air drift between them. It sent a chill up her legs. Fishnets were not the warmest and she was still too unsure of what was happening to reach for him, pull him back. No matter how much she wanted it...wanted him.

"Wha-"

"She was murdered?" Oh. He wanted to know. He cared enough to ask, to want more than the basics and it ripped at her soul and soothed all at once.

And with a deep breath, Kate nodded. It was time. Time to tell someone and he would be her someone. She didn't have anyone else and he'd just...he'd kissed her. Over and over. Softly, sweet and gentle as if she were more than just a girl, just a stripper, just a motherless daughter. That had to mean something.

She pushed herself up, brought them back to being nose to nose. She wanted him closer, she didn't want to lose whatever it was that had just happened between them.

"Stabbed. In an alley and just...just left there." She leaned into him, needed the support that he offered. That she always felt with him, before the incident. Before she'd shown up three sheets to the wind and thrown herself at him. He made her feel again. "The killer wa- hasn't been caught yet."

"Kate,"

"They said it was random gang violence."

"But you don't believe that." It wasn't a question. And when she caught his gaze, she didn't see judgment or pity.

"No. My dad does, he's let it drive him into a bottle. He lost his job. He was a lawyer and so was my mother. I don't know if he's actually even aware of anything. If he understands that I'm paying for my motorcycle, the cabin, the house...and a variety of bills because my savings, everything we had is gone. I don't even know what happened to any of it."

"That's how you ended up working as a stripper."

"Yeah. Waitressing wasn't cutting it and even with both jobs and some nights bringing in four hundred dollars or so, it's not – I'm not trying to make excuses for what I've done." She wasn't. Not really. There wasn't anything she could say to make it better. To hide the fact that she'd been stupid and immature and thought getting wasted would do anything but make it worse. Even after she'd seen first hand what it did to people.

How it tore families apart.

"I don't want to be like him." Her whispered words shocked them both. Had her tensing and removing her hand from his thigh as if he'd slapped her fingers.

"You're not." It was soft, everything about him was soft. The slump of his shoulders, the look in his eyes, the touch he pressed to her side until she could feel the heat of his palm through her sweater. And the bump of his nose against hers. "I won't let you be."

"I -" She didn't know what to say, how to tell him thank you or ask why. Why her? He was something and she was nothing. He had money and she didn't. He was a father and a good guy and she took her clothes off and let men shove dollars at her for it.

But he liked her. She knew that much, he wouldn't have kissed her otherwise. And his hand was currently on the move to rub up her spine, leave her tingling and heat flushing her skin. He had to like her. She wanted him to kiss her again, make her forget. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to know if those fingers of his were as talented at touching as they were at typing.

Sucking in a breath, she nudged closer, gauged his reaction but before she could close the distance and feel his lips against hers again, he was leaning back...away.

"When was the last time you ate something?"

"Wha-" He was off the bed and tugging her up before she could finish her thought.

"You like cookies? Wait, dumb question. Everyone likes cookies." His hand stayed wrapped around hers, pulling her along as her feet stumbled after him.

She wasn't thinking of food. Or cookies. She was thinking of him. Of being with him. But her head was spinning and aching, her stomach still sickly and uneasy.

And somehow she ended up with her butt planted on the kitchen floor and her back against the cabinet. With him right beside her and a plate of cookies on his legs, she wasn't entirely sure how they'd managed to go from kissing, to talking, to...this.

She munched on a cookie anyway, admitted that it felt good to get something in her belly. And the cinnamon seemed to help take some of the nausea away. They were still warm, still moist and perfect. Her mother had always made the best cookies but these weren't bad.

"So your dad -"

"Do we really have to talk about it right now?" Kate didn't want to, not...not after she'd already trudged it all up. "I'm not saying we can't, I...can we just enjoy these cookies and each other."

The last of it was nothing more than a whisper that had her cheeks turning red. She didn't know if that was something he wanted to do but it'd sure felt like it. Then his answer came and it was just as soft.

"Yeah, we can do that."

"Good."

"Good." He was staring again. She ducked her head, finished off her cookie with her lips tilted in a smile. "I uh, I'm glad you're not allergic to cinnamon."

And just like that, he had her laughing. She shook her head, bumped his shoulder with hers and waited till he nudged her back. It wasn't as awkward as she thought it'd be. He was still her friend.

"When did you make these?"

"Uh...not too long ago. Alexis insisted." That had her perking up, looking up at him with a question in her eyes and her mouth busy chewing. "She was thirsty and came down, I told her you were sick and then we had to bake you cookies."

"I'm sorry, I -"

"It's over. We can say it's in the past."

"It was just a few hours ago, Rick, I never meant to bring this anywhere near her." She hadn't. She'd tried not to. She'd avoided it at all costs and now it was choking her again. The fact that he was a father with a young daughter and she was just bad news clogged her airway, made it hard to suck in the next breath.

"I brought you here, I want you here. I need to know you'll be okay and she's four, she doesn't know what's going on. She thinks you have a cold or something and you should have seen how excited she was to bake you these cookies." He brushed it off, told her it was okay but she didn't think it was. Nothing about it was okay.

"You're a really good father." She watched him carefully, took in the way he shrugged and the smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. "You are. I thought you were this...huge dick when we met and I still kind of thought that when I came to work for you but then I saw that photo and the way you protected her from me, from someone you didn't know and things changed."

She started thinking of him as more than an attractive man with piercing eyes. He'd become softer and kinder in that moment. And now she was getting to see all of it up close and personal.

"She's everything to me, Kate. I wasn't ready to be a dad, I'm not sure anyone ever is but I do the best I can."

Mid-reach for another cookie, she stopped and her eyes met his. And she couldn't help but lean in, he talked with so much love for his little girl and she just yearned for him. She paused inches from him with her eyes wide open and watching his darken.

"Is this...are we -" He swallowed her words, his lips taking over hers and the plate of cookies slid to the floor. Forgotten.

He tasted of cinnamon when her lips parted, when he slicked his tongue around hers and she moaned against him. Her legs pushing up, her knees inching closer until he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her down as she moved to straddle him.

And it was hands searching, hers clinging to his biceps and his toying with the fishnets that covered her thighs. She went dizzy with need, with the desire to taste more of him. These weren't the soft gentle kisses they'd shared earlier. She was starving for it, for the way his lips pushed at hers, the nip of his teeth over her chin when he dragged his mouth away from hers.

Her hips jerked when he sucked at her pulse, when his tongue ghosted over it and her fingers clenched in his hair. Then he stopped. His lips stilled on her skin and she held him there, didn't want him to pull back. She was panting already and could feel every breath he let out. Just as labored.

She rocked into him, felt his whole body stiffen. Yeah, he wanted her too. She could feel him pressed into her. And that made her brave, made her stroke over the back of his neck, turn to nip at his earlobe.

But he held her tighter, his fingertips dug in and he whispered one word. "Alexis."

Kate froze. Every muscle in her body strung taut as she stared at him.

"I-I should probably head home." She didn't want to but it had been days. Days and she had no idea how her father was doing or if he was okay. "I haven't been back since -"

"No, Kate. You're not going anywhere this late. I just meant that Alexis could wake up and we shouldn't be groping in the kitchen." He drew back far enough to catch her gaze and she felt a shiver race down her spine.

He looked as heated as she felt. And all she could think about was groping. His hands sliding beneath her sweater, pulling it off, his skin on hers. It'd been awhile for her, and she probably wasn't his level of experienced but she wanted him.

And he was staring at her, undressing her with his eyes and he wanted her too.

Nerves jumped beneath her skin when he gently slid her off his lap and helped her up. He bent to pick up the plate they'd pushed aside. And then he was twining his fingers through hers and leading her along just like he'd led her into the kitchen. She didn't mind so much.

Until they were back in the dimly lit bedroom – the orange glow of the lamp highlighted the bed and her eyes glued themselves it. She inhaled, tried to calm herself and startled when he touched her shoulder.

"Sorry. We should get some sleep."

"Sleep?" It came out drenched in disbelief and she shifted her hips, rubbed her thighs together. She almost moaned at the friction, the heat that was still raging. She wasn't thinking of sleep.

"Your head is hurting, you're still wobbling like a weeble and -"

"I'm fine." She was. She was more than fine. She was turned on and staring at his bed, imagining all the things they could do. "I feel fine."

She'd thought they would never do this. She'd been so sure she would never see him again unless it was on the back of a book jacket. But she went willingly when he led her over and coaxed her down onto the mattress.

She made room for him, bit at her lip as she eyed him and then in a move that was far more bold than she felt, she reached for his pant leg and tugged. He warred with it, she could see it and then he growled out her name, tumbled down with her.

She kissed him. She initiated it with what she'd intended to be a heated kiss, a quick slide of her tongue across the seam of his lips but he pinned her. Gentled her. He took the control and she let him have it.

Her sweater went first. Lost to the floor and she craned her body back up to his, holding his face in her palms and crashing their mouths together. She wanted him, was ready for him. He pried her fingers away, rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles and trailed a line of open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Slow and steady.

Her blood boiled, her breathing labored and she whimpered before his lips ever made it over her breast. She'd been with guys before, knew what came next. The sharp teeth and hard sucking, the greedy hands that pushed at her fishnets and then fast, hard sex that left her muscles tense and her body sweaty.

Except that wasn't what happened. He lavished her, softly. Tender touches of his tongue that had her arching hard, pushing her nipple further into his mouth. Seeking the pain that came with a bite. He didn't clamp down, he barely scraped his teeth against her. And it wasn't until she tried to claw at his shoulders that she realized he was still dressed.

She parted her lips, ready to ask why when his mouth traveled south. Down her stomach, tongue swirling around her navel and taking a direct course over to the dip above her hip bone. And then he sucked. She tugged at his hair, tried to pull him back or force him closer, she didn't know. He had her thrashing and he'd barely touched her.

"I – god!"

"Shh, easy." His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her fishnets and her vision went blurry. She clenched her thighs, her hips chased his mouth and she felt the rumble that came from within him when he realized she didn't have anything on beneath. "Kate, fuck."

Her eyes were heavy lidded, barely open when he pulled them down, when his gaze sparked as he saw something he found interesting. She knew what it was the moment he had her bare. When his fingers skimmed up the inside of her thigh and left her moaning.

The tattoo. The one just below decency. The phoenix she'd had inked into her skin. He tugged his shirt off and she waited for it, for him to strip down and just thrust into her, to hear their skin slap.

He didn't. He confused her.

When he was bare, when the boxers had been kicked away and she could see him, hard and ready, he did something that no one ever had. He slid between her thighs, pushed one up over his shoulder and dipped his head. He started with the color permanently etched into her flesh, his tongue tracing the length of the wing, sliding down, following the swirl of feathers that gathered as the tail and she was rocking into him.

Shameless and needy. His mouth so close. And she felt his moan, felt the very moment he'd dipped to the very last feather, when he tasted her. She threw her head back into the pillow, clawed at the sheet and almost sobbed out his name. One flick of his tongue over her and she was panting hard, couldn't catch her breath.

Shapes and swirls appeared behind her eyelids as she clenched them shut. She'd never felt this. No one had ever...and he was. He was. His face was buried between her thighs and she was arching into him, wanting more. Faster, harder, something.

He lapped at her, sucked, and then his fingers joined, slid inside and curled and she clamped her legs tight over his ears. He stopped and no, no, no. That wasn't what she wanted.

"Ri-"

"Breathe, Kate." He kissed just above her clit. Soft and gentle. "Easy, just breathe."

She nodded, gulped in the air as if she'd been holding her breath. Oh. Maybe she had. And relaxed enough that he could move again. That was all he needed. Just that small moment. Her body was brimming with it, with the way he touched her. With the way his fingers moved inside her and his mouth tasted, and scraped. His stubble rubbed.

She tried to calm herself, tried not to thrust up into him. She really did but somewhere between the tightening in her abdomen and the realization that he was going to make her come, she lost that control. Completely.

She'd had sex. She'd had boys do a variety of things but never that. And she'd never...no one had ever given her an orgasm. No one besides herself. But she could feel it. Bubbling into a blaze. Starting in her core and traveling out to each limb.

She came unexpectedly, a sharp burst that had his name pouring from her mouth and her hands buried in his hair. Everything faded out, her muscles clenched, her body bowed.

He was whispering her name, asking if she was okay when she finally opened her eyes, looming above her. No longer south of her navel. He was staring down at her, brushing her hair back, his body draped deliciously over hers. Hot and hard and heavy. An intoxicating scent lingered, the musk of sex thick between them and she was drawn to it. Powerless to resist, she sought his mouth, flicked her tongue over his bottom lip, pulled it between her teeth.

Whispered 'now' into him. Letting him taste her desperation as she tasted herself. He pulled away long enough to search a drawer, to find a condom and she felt that nervousness kick back in. But as soon as he settled back over her, nudged her thighs open, it disappeared.

She dug her nails into his back, wrapped her legs around his waist and waited. This was the part she was good at, the part where she knew what to do, how to clench her muscles, how to twist her hips but she wasn't prepared for him.

She was prepared for a quick fuck, a fleeting mating of their bodies. She was not ready for the slow thrust, the way he stretched her until she was gasping. The slight discomfort that came with it or how he nudged her nose, asked if she was alright. He kept asking that and she didn't understand. She dug her heels into his ass in answer. Begged him to move with a twist of her hips that had him groaning.

And he did. Gently. Rocking into her, even when she pushed up against him, harder, faster. He grabbed her hands, threaded his fingers through hers, kissed her. But he didn't pick up the pace. Kept it long and deep. A slick slide of friction that had a familiar stirring in her stomach, in her core.

The buzz of it becoming more defined with each thrust. He kept his eyes on her, even when she'd closed hers. She could feel it. His stare. She could feel everything. The sting from her body not being used to his invading it. The pull when he slid back out. The rub of his pubic bone against hers. Every puff of air that left his lips and blew softly against her face.

She clawed at him, wanted something harder. Whispered to him, whimpered for more. He held steady. Her thighs trembled.

Sweat pooled between them, slicked over her skin. And then he dropped his mouth to her neck, his hips moved just a little faster and she met every thrust. Stopped trying to speed it up. Stopped hoping for harder because the ache was building. Slow and delicious in her loins.

One hand closed over her breast and she lost every thought. Her mind blanked and all she could do was chant his name. Over and over. Between stolen kisses and biting at his jaw. Her body quaked, quivered, her walls fluttered around him and she broke apart slowly, long and deep. Something she'd never experienced.

She felt it in her bones. And she clung to him. Shaking like a leaf in the wind as he thrust twice, pulled her close, buried deep inside and held her there.

She was still trembling when he pulled away, when he rolled to the side. He disappeared and she barely noticed. She didn't actually, until he was back. Until he kissed her forehead and tucked her beneath his chin. She barely moved, her legs felt heavy, her entire body felt heavy and he asked again if she was okay.

"Why do you keep asking that?" Her voice cracked, and she burrowed into him. The awkwardness of earlier completely gone. Her body still aching from him, nerves still jumping.

"I..I didn't know how many times you'd ever -"

"Had sex?"

"Yeah. That." She chuckled against him, stroked her hand over his chest. For a writer, he was sure having a hard time finding words.

"You didn't hurt me. Quite the opposite."

"Okay." He seemed content with that. Relaxed. She slid her thigh over his hip, nuzzled his jaw until he turned and their lips met. "Get some rest. Alexis is an early riser."

It was already morning. But she didn't point it out. Nor did it bother her that he probably wanted her gone before his daughter woke. It was fine because they were...something. She didn't know what that something was.

Kate woke to the view of the wall. Her head pounding and eyes so heavy she could barely keep them open. There was a warm solid body pressed to her back and a dull ache between her thighs. She smiled then, remembered what had happened. He'd tracked her down. Taken care of her, fought with her until she couldn't do it anymore.

And then he'd picked up the pieces as if they were his own. He hadn't judged, hadn't told her to leave and never come back. He'd kissed her. And they'd...it wasn't sex. Not like anything she'd participated in before. It'd been sweet and powerful.

She felt his nose press to her shoulder, then his lips. And again to the side of her neck. She turned to face him, rolled onto her side and put a few inches between their bodies.

"Hey," He was smiling as he said it.

"Hey,"

"So we -" He didn't even finish his statement before he was smiling again. And she took that as a good sign. He wasn't regretting it.

"Yeah. Is...is that okay?"

"It was more than just okay, Kate." Every slight insecurity she'd had vanished. "But if we're doing this, we're doing it right."

"This?"

"Dating." And this time she was the one smiling, bright and sleepy. "I don't care about your job, or your dad. I care about you and I want to know you better, I want you to get to know Alexis."

"Okay, then how do we do this? Should I get dressed and go because I don't really know what it says if she finds me here when she wakes up."

"You should get dressed. We should both get dressed but stay for breakfast. I'll take you home after." That was something she hadn't thought about. Him taking her home. He would see firsthand and it scared her but she didn't say anything. "Oh, your stuff is in the living room. I uh...you fell asleep and I took a little trip."

"You went back and got my bag?" He didn't say anything, just shrugged a shoulder and she reached for him, slid her palm over his cheek. He understood that it was important to her. Something she'd assumed he didn't. "Thank you."

"You know I accidentally saw the book inside."

"Accidentally?"

"Complete accident."

"It's a good book." And that was as far as she'd go. She wasn't quite ready to share that she'd spent the last few days buried in that book, crying and thinking she'd never get to be any closer to him. "I don't know how to...I'm not good at relationships."

"Neither am I."

"So what are we doing?"

"Taking it a day at a time, I guess. Just figuring things out. We don't have to be perfect, Kate." His fingers skimmed over her hip, slid around to pull her closer and she let him.

Whenever he told her something, she believed it.