Disclaimer: The wording is mine but the characters aren't
OOOOOOOOO
"Wait," he called lowly. "Changed my mind." He snuck an arm around her waist and hoisted her off her feet and turning her away from the board. She laughed as her feet lifted of the floor. A startled, happy laugh that had him fighting against a foolish grin, knowing his little stunt had probably attracted some attention.
"I'm not a gentleman tonight," he said quietly, letting her down. "Now relax and watch the mad skills, Beckett."…
OOOOOOOOO
She was a little taken aback that he had decided to go through with his suggestion. Four years ago, she would have never allowed herself to indulge in a game while undercover, but then again she probably wouldn't have danced either. She had done that before and it had worked out alright.
What harm could it do? Their marks were out of earshot but were finally starting to show interest in them. Castle's 'We Come in Peace' plan.
Castle's first dart hit the middle of the wedge for number one. He gave her a little smirk and bowed a little. Ridiculous, adorable man.
His second missed the second wedge and she bit her lip. When he turned this time it was with a decidedly sheepish look, and she couldn't restrain a gentle smile.
He must have been expecting snark because when he turned back she was positive she heard him mutter, "Women."
She could picture Ryan and Esposito in the van nodding sympathetically. Lanie might have even bent some regulations to be there, too.
His last dart lodged firmly into the cork in his intended target.
"Two out of three," she walked past him to collect his darts. "Not bad."
She sauntered back and handed him his missiles, making sure to brush her fingers over the skin at his wrist she had recently discovered was so sensitive. She figured he deserved that for his stunts earlier. Plus she might have just enjoyed watching him swallow hard. Just a little. Hey, he was hers for now, wasn't he?
She took her stance, deceptively relaxed and fingering her darts.
She took a breath and threw.
1
2 with only a few millimeters to spare and then 3 right in the middle. Not too bad.
"So hot."
She swiveled to find he hadn't picked his mouth up yet. She felt a thrill of power. He really had no idea. His face was comically abashed that he had spoken out loud, but it wasn't going to help his case if he spoke to any members who saw his display. She quirked an eyebrow and his face fell back to neutral.
She collected her darts and stepped back to let him cast.
3,4,5 in rapid succession.
She felt her earlier humor slipping. He had done it to her again, damn him. Just like at the shooting range. It didn't even look like he was trying hard. With his erratic, half-hearted performance, she couldn't even evaluate his level. How many more times was he going to pull this trick? How many skills had he picked up 'researching'?
Well two could play at that game. She took her stance again.
4
20. Her second dart was an inch off. Damn. All her hours practicing at the shooting range always had her tending towards the center of targets.
This time for sure.
5.
He didn't even gloat as she lost her advantage. He took his darts.
6,7,8.
She mimicked him. 6,7,8.
She became aware the chatter had died down, signaling they had an audience.
9,10,11. Damn him, he was on fire and damn hot slouching in his jacket and intense eyes. He moved to collect his darts but she thought the sight of his leather clad behind would probably be more distracting now than his darts left in the cork.
"Leave them," she instructed him.
He stayed quiet, just watching, playing to their audience.
9,10,11.
"Doing good, babe." He collected all six.
She glared at him. He knew the group couldn't hear them, he was just pushing her.
"You decide what you want, yet?"
"You to stop dicking me around, Richard."
He let out a laugh, his eyes full of mirth. "I'm the only one allowed to fuck with you."
The coarse word rolling off his tongue startled her and she felt a blush rising involuntarily.
"But if you insist." He handed her his darts and with his eyes never leaving hers, he slowly shed his jacket. The movement stirred up the scent of him, the warm air that escaped from him heavy with it.
He draped it over the back of the closest chair. She noted his shirt was fitted. Not skin-tight but when he leaned to the side to put the shoulders of his jacket around the chair, it formed over the long muscles of his back. She let her eyes roam his chest when he turned back to her and gently reclaimed his darts. Thankfully there was no trace of the wire.
He raised his arm and then it was 12,13,14.
The dance of muscle along his arm had her so caught up it wasn't until he moved to retrieve the three dots of color she realized he had finished.
She swallowed.
They shouldn't have been so distracting. She worked in a precinct and over a good half of the other people employed there passed the physical component of their job requirements with flying colors. She even trained with them. She could quite honestly say sweaty male was not attractive. Not that Castle was sweating, damn him.
She also worked closely with two very fit colleagues, one of whom was fond of polo shirts and, she had noticed, had a very nice set of arms. If she hadn't noticed Lanie had certainly told her.
So it was a mystery to her why this particular set of arms was compelling enough to be causing physical havoc within her. After all, she had used one as a pillow last night.
12.
One out of three. This had to be a joke.
"What's the matter, baby?"
"Okay. That's it," she grated. "If I win, I get seven sessions in the gym. I'm going to officially kick your ass."
His eyes sparkled. "Competitive," he murmured, bringing his face in close. "I like it."
That did it. He thought he was so in control? She was going to knock him off his own pedestal so hard he would leave a bigger hole in the ground than Wilie Coyote. She had managed it with ease only yesterday in the precinct. Hang Lanie and her preparation, it wouldn't take much more to break his little act
She ignored the voice in her head telling her the competition was getting the best of her.
She stepped out from his chest and smoothly worked the darts into her hair like bobby pins. She slid her fingers to the zip of her jacket and fingered it until she was sure his pupils reacted. So easy. She slid it down slowly, not taking her eyes off his impressively impassive face.
She didn't stop and slipped the jacket off, making sure it ran slowly down her arms, knowing his eyes would follow it. Sure enough she heard nothing from him but a closer inspection revealed the blue in his eyes had retreated to a thin rim, making way for black.
"You're playing dirty."
"You think this is dirty?" she taunted him. "I'm just being sporting. You took off yours, so I thought I'd keep the playing field even."
She made no move to remove the darts but leaned to one side, waiting for him to throw.
His first dart wasn't even close and she permitted herself a giggle. He frowned at the noise and narrowed his eyes at her.
He visibly collected himself, rebellious.
The second hit home. 15.
There had to be something said for his control. She moved closer, watching him shift his weight nervously as she breathed on the back of his neck. His shoulders tensed and he tried to move his head away, probably worried for his ears, but she chased it and nuzzled her nose in behind his ear.
"Nice shot," she purred.
…
R&R?