100 Sex Positions of the Kama Sutra
By Dana Keylits
Chapter Thirty-Five: The Bandoleer
"Mother, what are you doing here?" Castle asked, panicked. He'd set the table for two, the candles were lit, the food was warming in the oven, the wine uncorked and poured, and, with the soft glow of the fireplace casting shadows over the table, the mood was perfect.
And, then his mother had walked in.
"Why hello, darling," Martha started, unbuttoning her coat. "What have we here?" She glanced at the table and then at her son, admiration speckled in the blue of her eyes. "A romantic dinner for two?"
"Yes," Castle replied, scrambling to intercept her before she reached the table. "The central word being romantic. Which means," he kissed her on the cheek and steered her back towards the door, "…that you can't be here."
She wiggled out of his grip and spun around, strutting in a straight line to the romantically set table, complete with sprinkled rose petals. She picked one up and held it between her thumb and forefinger. "And, what, exactly, is the occasion?"
Castle pinched the bridge of his nose, following her to the dining room. "Occasion?"
"It's not every day you go out of your way to woo Beckett, darling."
"Who says I'm trying to woo her? I've already woo'd her, Mother. I don't need to do any more wooing; she's been woo'd. The wooing is over."
Martha glanced back at her son, a mischievous smile adorning her face. "Ah ha. So, what is all of this then?" She asked, draping her coat over the back of a dining room chair. But before he could answer, an idea streaked through her brain and she spun around, her face lit up as bright as a Christmas tree. "Oh! Richard, you're going to propose!" She exclaimed, she clapped her hands together. "I'm so happy for you! Kate will make an excellent wife for you, darling," she waved her hand in the air dramatically, "Much more suitable for you than those other two." She opened her hands, reaching out towards him, "Where's the ring? I simply must see it!"
"Mother!" Castle exclaimed, a horrified look on his face.
"What?"
"I am not proposing. Don't. No. Mother. It's too soon to even think about that!" He stumbled over his words as he shook a finger. "And, don't go around telling people I'm proposing, either!" He pointed at her, knowing that once she got a thought into her stubborn red head, it would take a stick of dynamite to get it out.
Martha frowned, her shoulders slumping forward. "Well, then, what? What is all of this about?"
Castle reached over and adjusted the flowers that adorned the center of the table. "Why does it have to be for something? Why can't it just," he shrugged, "be?"
Martha narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him, her bangle bracelets jangling softly. "Because I know you, Richard Castle, and you don't," she gestured at the table, "…pull out all of the stops for no reason."
He crossed to the kitchen, turning on the oven light and checking on the food. "Well, I am this time."
Martha hiked one hip onto a kitchen stool, smirking. "Uh huh. You know you can't kid a kidder, kiddo."
"Mother, will you, please?" He turned around and leaned against the counter. "It's been a long week, Kate's been working hard, I just wanted, I've barely seen her, I just wanted a nice evening."
Martha's face softened and she held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay." She sing-songed. "I'm sorry to have doubted you."
She hopped off the stool and crossed to the table, plucking her coat from the back of the chair. "I'll get out of your hair, darling. Just let me go change and then you won't even know I was…" she stopped, distracted by the large book that sat conspicuously on the dining room chair. She picked it up and slowly turned around, "…here." She looked up at him. "Well, well," she teased. "Now, I see what's happening." She flipped through the book. Frowning. "Why are so many of these pages stuck together?"
Castle crossed the room in record speed, snatching the book out of Martha's hands. "Mother, please." He scolded.
"Are you two still working your way through that book?" She asked, her eyes alight with amusement. "I had just assumed you'd given up on the Kama Sutra after," she gestured up and down in front of him, "…that unfortunate incident with your back."
He returned the book to the chair, pushing it further under the table. "I, it's, Mother, it's none of your business."
"Well, that may be, but, a word of advice, darling. No woman wants to be queened in the dining room so her companion can get kinged in the bedroom."
Castle sighed, exhaling heavily. "Mother! Do you have to be so…" he searched his expansive internal vocabulary files for the appropriate word.
"So, what, darling? So right? Because I am, you know"
"Crass!"
"Oh, tish! It's the truth," she pointed at the pushed-in chair. "If Kate thinks you're going through all of this trouble just to get her into bed, you can forget about actually getting there, my boy."
Castle looked at the table, and then at Martha. "What? Why?"
"That you even have to ask that question," She scolded, "…means I've clearly not done my job," She offered him a disapproving look, shaking her head, and then turned on her heel to make her way up the staircase. "I'll be changed and out of here in a minute," she announced over her shoulder as she ascended the staircase. "But, darling, I sincerely suggest you reconsider your seduction plan," she reached the uppermost step and then spun around, bending over to look at him. "If you have any desire of it actually working, that is."
He watched with troubled eyes as her neon pink heel disappeared around the corner, and then he stood mutely at the bottom of the staircase, thinking. Maybe she was right, maybe Kate would see right through him, and instead of finally getting to the Bandoleer position, he'd be stuck with another night spent cuddling.
Not that he minded cuddling; he loved it, actually. It's just that for the past few days they hadn't made any progress on the Kama Sutra. They'd had sex, of course, they'd had sexy sex, but they hadn't progressed to the next position, even in spite of his earnest attempts to do so.
At first, it was because Kate had wanted to try The Ape again (which, incidentally, had proven the axiom, 'third time's the charm' – Kate had even foregone the helmet this time), then there was the night they took an extended bath together; Castle smiled as he remembered the bubble fest that had become, even Baba Fett had had a bubble bikini by the end of the night.
And, then there was last night. Castle felt his cheeks grow hot as he recalled their middle of the night escapades. Kate had been particularly commanding, and the position they'd found themselves in wasn't even in the Kama Sutra!
And, as fun as all of that had been, and, it had been fun, he had really wanted to move forward in the book.
He hadn't whined about it much, not wanting to seem like too big a jerk, plus she was preoccupied with the case, and he didn't want to make things harder for her. But, still. They were surely losing the bet!
So, he'd come up with the idea of making her dinner, a couple of glasses of wine, her favorite dish, her favorite dessert, and, oh yeah, lookie here, the Kama Sutra book! Surely she wouldn't be able to resist.
Or, would she?
His mother was right. She'd see right through it. What had he been thinking?
Just as he'd made the decision to return the book to the nightstand, he heard the telltale sign of Kate's key in the lock, and he panicked. He spun around in circles, unsure of what to do. He needed to move the book, but he didn't have time, the door was already opening and she was crossing the threshold, her coat draped over one arm, a duffle bag hanging off the opposite shoulder. He pushed the chair as far under the table as he could, hoping she'd drop her things off in the bedroom instead of by the door as she usually did.
But Kate was a creature of habit, and thunk, there it landed by the front door.
He hurried towards her, his arms outstretched. "You're just in time," he announced, hastily using the back of his hand to wipe the beads of nervous perspiration that were dotting his forehead. He pecked her cheek, taking her coat, "do you want to take your bag to the bedroom?"
She eyed him suspiciously and he silently cursed himself for being so transparent. He tried to back-peddle, "Or, eh, just, you know, freshen up before dinner?"
She glared at him, toeing out of her shoes, first the left, and then the right. But when she saw the table, she stopped, staring at it, and then him, then back at it, then, finally back at him. She bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes narrowing. "Castle," she started, clearly suspicious.
"Yes?" he asked, plunging his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and rocking backwards onto his heels. He was working very hard to keep his expression as blank as possible.
"What's all of this?" She pointed at the table.
He gently curled his fingers around her wrist, pulling her into him. She wrapped her arms around his middle; he did the same. "I just thought, you know, with the case being so difficult, and all of the hours you've been putting in, that you might," he side-nodded at the table, "…want a quiet evening at home."
"Uh huh," she replied, her chameleon eyes absorbing him, scanning him, trying to penetrate through the façade of his lie.
"And, you have no other motive? Something you're going to confess? Perhaps? Or, request?"
He tucked his chin, "Whaaaat? Me?"
She kissed him softly, a giggle rising from her throat. "Yessss, you," she replied.
He feigned indignation, "I'm hurt, Beckett. Actually hurt that you'd think so poorly of me."
She playfully slapped his chest with the palm of her hand. "It's only because I know you, Castle." She kissed him again, and then pulled away, walking towards the table. "But, I'll admit, this is very," she turned around to face him, "…sweet. Thank you."
He smiled. "You're welcome."
She beamed up at him, then raised her nose in the air, "It smells delicious in here, are you making…"
"Yep," he interrupted, "…your favorite."
She smiled again, an adoring expression on her face. "That's so sweet, Castle. I don't know what to say."
"Say you'll have a glass of wine with me," he suggested, eying the poured tumblers waiting for them on the table.
"Of course I will," she agreed, following his gaze and then turning back to him. "But, I need to use the bathroom first," she thumbed behind her, "be right back."
He watched her disappear through the office and into his bedroom, and then he raced to the dining room, pulling out the chair and scooping up the book just as his mother started to noisily descend the stairs, a bright red boa scarf floating behind her.
He hugged the book to his chest, hurrying to follow Beckett's path into the bedroom so he could quickly stash it under the nightstand before she came out of the bathroom, not having noticed she'd retraced her steps and was now standing directly in front of him.
"Beck…" he stammered.
She paused, looking at his horror-stricken face, then at the book he held clutched in his hands, then back at his face. She shifted from one foot to the other.
"What are you doing, Castle?" she asked, an amused look on her face.
"Me? What? Doing. Doing? Nothing, I, ah, nothing, no." He wrapped his arms around the book, holding it against his chest as though that might make it invisible somehow.
She bit her lip, her eyes blazing. "Ah," she replied, then pointed at the book. "Is that why you're holding onto that thing like it's a life saver?"
"This? What? No, I, ah, no. What are you talking about, Beckett? I was just…"
"Getting busted," Martha interrupted, laughing. She crossed to the couple, patting Castle on the shoulder. "Face it kiddo, you just got caught. Might as well confess everything."
Kate's eyebrows shot up, an amused expression on her face. "Confess?"
"Oh, don't be too hard on him, Kate," Martha suggested, shrugging into her brightly colored cape. "He's not the first man to try this little seduction scenario."
Castle dropped his head.
"Seduction?" Kate asked, her eyes darting from Castle to Martha.
Martha pointed at the book her son was still clutching to his chest. "I assume he's ready to try again," she offered. "You know? The Kama Sutra?" She swung her bent arm in a 'gung ho' gesture, her fist clad in a neon red glove. "Get back on the horse?"
Castle groaned, although he was thankful that his mother didn't know they'd never stopped practicing the Kama Sutra.
Kate's head bobbed, "Ah."
"Okay, kids. Well, I'm off. Have fun," she click-clacked towards the front door in a pair of too-high red heels, spinning around as she opened it. "Ice packs are in the freezer, I think there's a heating pad and first-aid kit in the bathroom upstairs," she pointed in the air, cocking her head to one side, "Oh, and you do know how to dial 9-1-1, Richard, don't you dear?"
Castle frowned, impatiently shooing her out the door with a wave of his hand, "Ha ha, very funny. Goodnight, Mother."
When the door had closed behind her, he turned to look at Beckett, one eye closed in preparation for the lecture he was sure to get. He was surprised when all she did was bite the inside of her cheek, her eyes smiling at him.
"Look, Kate. I was just…"
She shook her head, reaching for the book. "You don't need to explain, Castle."
"I don't'?"
Her curls bounced softly as she nodded. "No,"
"So, you're not mad?"
"Why would I be mad?"
"I don't know," he glanced at the front door, "…mother insinuated you wouldn't take kindly to being seduced for…"
She closed the space between them, placing one finger over his lips. "Castle," she started, gazing at him with a crooked smile. "I like being seduced by you."
"You do?"
She nodded, dropping her gaze to his lips in that way she does, that way that makes him want her, that makes him want her in that knowing way, that Biblical way. He mumbled, something incoherent and stupid, but it must have been sweet, too, because she smiled and then kissed him, her fingers tripping along his ribcage before fingering the collar of his shirt, and her tongue went exploring, eager and wanton, seductive.
When they eventually parted, he took a deep breath, rubbing his lips with the fingers of both hands. "So?" he glanced at the book she'd tucked under her arm, one eyebrow cocked.
She gave him a crooked smile, un-tucking the book and flipping through the pages. "Okay. But, let's try number eleven again. I kinda liked that one."
He frowned; this was the third time in as many days that she'd steered him away from their current position. "Beckett," he started, vertical lines etched between his eyes, "what is going on with you and this position?"
She fingered the edge of the book, not meeting his gaze. "What? Nothing."
"Kate."
"What? I just wanted to try this one," she showed him the picture of the couple performing the Ascent to Desire, "…again. What's wrong with that?"
He took the book out of her hands and turned to page 35. "There's nothing wrong with that. I loved that position, too. And, if you want to do it again," he grinned, "I'm game. But, first." He held the opened book up to her. "The Bandoleer."
She frowned, her shoulders slumping. He closed the book with a thud and tossed it onto the coffee table. "Kate," he bellowed his hands on his hips. "What is going on?"
She patted his chest, still not meeting his eyes, her gaze focused on the vee of his shirt. He could see she was struggling with something, could almost hear the gears in her brain whirring and grinding. He held his breath, kept his tongue, giving her the space she needed to properly reply. And, then he could see her make a decision, noticed the familiar look of resolve sweep her features, and she finally met his stare, her eyes glistening, flecks of gold floating among the green.
"Castle," she whispered, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She reached for his hand. "I have something to tell you."
A/N: If you would like to see what this position would have looked like, do a Google search of 100 Sex Positions of the Kama Sutra, or PM me and I am happy to share the link with you. Or, you can follow me on Twitter (krdanakeylits).