SUPPLY AND DEMAND
RATED M
CHAPTER FOUR
He's mad at her when she returns from leave.
She doesn't blame him; she shut out all of her friends, not just him, but she can see why he feels betrayed. She'd told him she needed a few days, and then went radio silent for weeks.
It takes a couple weeks for them to find their footing again, but before long, they're flirting and teasing each other like nothing has changed. Like she didn't hear him profess his love and is now lying to him about even remembering it.
They don't explicitly say that sex is off the table, but he admits to her once that he'd read up on her injuries, and he knows that her heart literally could not handle it.
She's tempted a few times - after the bank robbery, even the sniper - but it isn't until a tall, slender CIA agent enters their lives and looks at Castle with those large, all-knowing doe eyes that she feels the need to act on it.
It isn't the first time Kate has encountered someone else that he's slept with, and she's sure it won't be her last. But she'd be lying if she said she wasn't consumed with jealousy, especially when he looks at Sofia the way she catches him looking at her. Like she's the sun, and he wants nothing more than to orbit her for all of eternity.
So once they return to the precinct after their near-drowning, and subsequent spat in the morgue, they bypass the homicide floor entirely in favor of their secret spot.
"Sleep with whomever I want?" he snaps, almost shoving her into the supply closet.
She whirls around, ready to argue, to fight, the anger hot in her chest. "You're an adult, Castle. You can make your own choices about your sex life." She waves her hand in the air. "Sleep with Sofia for all I care. You obviously have a history with her, who am I to stand in the way?"
"Who are you-" His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, and he turns away from her, scrapes his hand down his face before turning back. "Dammit, Beckett, you know who you are. Yeah, we had a fling," he adds, "but I hadn't seen her for years until now."
"And I'm supposed to believe that she just happened to work a case that would involve you?" She snorts. "Yeah, right. She's CIA, Rick," she reminds him. "There's no way that's just a coincidence."
Castle opens his mouth to reply, but he pauses, and after a moment his lips turn up into a crooked grin. "I get it," he almost drawls, taking a step towards her. "You're jealous."
She rolls her eyes and scoffs, but he just nods and continues to move forward, crowding her against the door.
"Another woman hints that she might be interested," he continues, his gaze dropping to her mouth, "and you're jealous. Same thing happened with Serena Kaye." He stops just inches from her, and he chuckles. "Don't deny it, Beckett. I see right through you."
Kate's breath catches in her throat when he presses his palms against the door, trapping her. His eyes are dark and a little dangerous, darker than she's seen in months - since the last time they'd been in this room, come to think of it.
Heat pools between her thighs at his proximity, and she lists forward, brushes her lips against his, a whisper of a touch. The growl comes from deep in his chest, and before she can tease him again he buries his hands in her hair and seals his mouth to hers. He slicks his tongue between her lips, angling her head, and she moans, wraps her arms around his neck to hold him to her.
She hooks one leg around his thigh and rolls her hips, and he groans, shifts, and grinds his erection into her. She tears her mouth from his with a gasp, and her hands fall to his pants. After some brief fumbling with his belt, his cock is in her hand and his forehead is on her shoulder, and he mutters her name, whispers filthy nothings in her ear as he thrusts his hips.
His movements soon begin to falter, and she can feel him getting close, feels him swell in her hand. She tucks her free hand in his back pocket and retrieves his wallet, lets go of his cock long enough to open the folded leather and search for the condom he always keeps. She sees his driver's license, credit cards, and way more cash than a person needs to carry, but when she realizes it's void of the one thing they need, she huffs out a frustrated sigh.
Castle lifts his gaze to hers, his eyes dark and hooded with arousal. "What?" he husks.
"No condom."
"Fuck." He straightens up and moves to the other side of the room, and he curls his hands into fists, his knuckles white.
Kate starts to close the distance between them. "I can-"
He shakes his head. "I won't make you," he interrupts.
"You wouldn't be making me do anything," she argues, reaching for him, grabbing his forearm when he tries to step out of reach again. She turns them around, nudges his chest until he's leaning back against the shelves. She has a brief memory of the first time she'd leaned here, and arousal collects between her legs when she remembers how he'd taken her apart with his tongue. "I want to," she murmurs, kneeling in front of him and taking him in her mouth.
He cups the back of her head and guides her, and before long she's gripping his ass, her fingers digging into the flesh as he groans with his release.
The pressure between her thighs is almost unbearable, but she ignores it, instead turns away from him, leaves him panting.
As soon as she stands, it all comes flooding back - the case, their near-death experience, his history with Sofia - and it feels like someone pours a bucket of ice water over her head. So she ignores the longing in Castle's eyes and turns towards the door.
His grip around her bicep is firm, and she drops her head forward and sighs.
"What about you?" he asks in a rough voice. He tugs her back into him, and he wraps his arms around her from behind, slides one hand into her pants.
Her head falls back against his shoulder when his fingers find her wet and willing, and her legs part almost of their own accord. His mouth trails up her neck and he nips at her earlobe, gives it a hard tug when she whimpers. "Let me take care of you," he murmurs.
"I-" She gasps when he presses two fingers to her clit, and her hips buck into his touch in a silent plea for more. The sweats she's wearing are on the baggy side, so she can spread her legs and give him easy access.
She needs to get back to the case, they both do, but she'll think much better without the fog of lust and arousal in her mind. She breathes his name and rolls her hips in encouragement, and he slides his other hand under her sweatshirt, pushes her bra above her breasts. When he pinches her clit and nipple simultaneously, she cries out and arches, the sensation sending shockwaves through her core.
Before she falls over the edge, though, his hand leaves her clit, and he nudges her legs further apart, yanks her pants down, and slides two fingers into her from behind. She can feel his knees bend a bit, and he guides her forward until she's leaning forward, grinding her ass against his hardness, her palms against the door and his arm around her waist the only things keeping her from falling to the floor.
Castle grinds his cock against her ass, his fingers frantic inside her, and he quickly shoves her sweatshirt up, his release hot on her back as he groans.
His fingers curl and stroke her, and it only takes a few more rough thrusts before she's crying out, stars behind her closed eyes, her desire and his touch too much to bear.
"Come home with me," he murmurs in her ear after he finds a paper towel and wipes his come from her back. "After the case."
She takes a deep breath. She's not entirely sure that her legs will hold her up yet, but she needs to put some space between them, needs to be out of his orbit so she can think straight. So she steps forward and adjusts her clothes, runs her fingers through her tangled hair.
"I can't," she manages after a moment, unable to even glance at him. "See you down there, Castle."
Later that spring, something changes.
She emerges from interrogation one afternoon, in the middle of a bombing case where nobody seems to remember anything, to find a still-hot coffee on her desk. She picks it up and glances around, but Castle's nowhere in sight.
She does spot Esposito in the break room, though, and takes a sip of the coffee as she heads that way.
"Was Castle here?" she asks after giving him a brief summary of interrogation.
Esposito lifts a brow, but doesn't say anything beyond confirmation that he was, but he claimed he needed to go.
"Oh." Kate sends him a text inquiring where he went, but although it's read almost immediately, no reply comes.
She gets so caught up in the case that she doesn't see the message from him until she's packing up to go home. All she wants is a hot bath and to sleep for 12 hours, but as soon as she reads his reply, her blood boils, and she changes her plan.
I can't do this anymore.
By some small miracle, there's no traffic downtown, and she makes it to his building in minutes. She finds parking less than a block away, and she almost sprints inside, gives Eduardo a cursory greeting before recalling the elevator.
By the time she steps onto his floor, her blood is boiling. Everything they've been through, and he's just going to walk away? Three years of friendship, of partnership, and he's going to end it with a text? Not to mention, he's given her some of the most intense orgasms she's ever had. And they haven't even fucked lying down.
She pounds her fist on the door, realizing too late that she uses her cop knock, as he's called it. Well, let him think something's wrong. Because it is.
His face is neutral when the door swings open, but it's his eyes that almost make her step back. They're cold, colder than she's ever seen them.
"Beckett, what do you want?" he asks in a low voice, shifting so his frame fills the doorway and blocks her from seeing inside.
"You left the precinct," she tells him. He doesn't respond, just offers a subtle lift of his brows, and she shakes her head in disbelief and continues. "We solved the case," she offers. "Thought you'd want to know."
Castle scoffs and walks back inside. He doesn't invite her in, but he doesn't tell her to leave, either, so she follows him
For once, she pursues him.
"The case," he echoes, not looking at her. "Great. I'm glad for you."
"No thanks to you," she snaps, not even caring that the door slams shut behind her so hard it rattles a picture on the wall. "Castle, what's wrong with you?"
He spins around, fire in his eyes. "What's wrong with me?" he repeats. "You're kidding, right? I find out you've been stringing me along for months, fucking years, and there's something wrong with me?"
Kate shakes her head in confusion. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"I bared my soul to you that day, Kate." He shrugs. "You said you didn't remember, but you did. And you, what, didn't want to stop fucking me, so you just kept up the ruse?"
Her heart sinks. Oh, God.
"Castle-"
"I can't do it anymore." His shoulders slump in defeat and he motions towards the door. "I would have waited for you forever if I thought there was a chance. But I never had a chance, not really, and I can't anymore. I'm done."
Kate can only stare at his back as he retreats towards his office, panic and confusion muddling her thoughts. They've been in such a good place lately, and she's finally - finally - starting to feel like she's ready to move forward in their relationship.
Is she too late?
She shakes her head and follows him. "There is a chance," she argues, crossing the threshold and reaching for his arm. He tenses at her touch, but she doesn't pull away, instead steps in front of him so she can look into his eyes. "Rick."
His eyes meet hers when she says his first name, and hope blooms in her chest at the spark in them. It's barely noticeable - she would have missed it if she didn't know him so well - but it's there.
Her fingers tighten around his forearm. "I told you I didn't remember because I was scared," she admits, finally saying to him something she's only told her therapist. "I'm broken, Rick. I've been a shell of myself since my mom died. And I was scared that you'd see just how messed up I was. I am," she corrects herself. "And that when you did, you wouldn't want me anymore."
Her name comes out on a sigh, but she swallows around the lump of emotion in her throat and continues.
"I convinced myself that sex was enough, that what I felt for you was purely physical. But it's not." She closes the space between them, trails her hand up his arm, places her other on his waist. She loops her arm around his neck and lifts herself to her toes, nudges his nose with hers. "I love you, Rick," she whispers, her lips brushing against his.
There's a low noise deep in his chest, and his hands circle her waist, his thumbs teasing the undersides of her breasts, his touch scalding even through her clothes. "I'm in love with you," he rasps, his eyes locked on hers, darkening with desire. "Every single part of you. Even the ones you think are messed up."
She gasps when his hands slide down her waist to the swell of her hips. "Rick," she breathes, "I'm so sorry." Her eyes flutter closed when his fingers flex against her. "Did I ruin us?"
He shakes his head slowly. "No," he murmurs. "Never."
He tugs her into him, and her eyes fly open when she feels his erection, feels the arousal pool between her legs. It's been a few weeks since they've had sex, and she realizes now how much she's missed him, missed his hard body against hers.
They probably need to talk more, make sure they're communicating with more than vague sentences and assumptions, but before she can say anything else his mouth covers hers and his tongue sweeps between her open lips.
Something breaks inside her, and she tightens her arms around him, presses her body flush against his. His hands slide down to her ass, and he holds her close, his tongue curling around hers as he starts to walk her backward.
Her back hits something and she feels the hard edge of a shelf in the small of her back. She grips the back of his shirt, tearing her mouth from his, hooking her leg around his as he trails his mouth down her neck.
"Castle," she gasps, grinding into him, in search of friction she so desperately needs for relief. "Please."
"Hold onto me," he murmurs.
She wraps her legs around his waist as he picks her up, and he turns them, deposits her onto his desk. She rolls her hips against his hard bulge, and he groans into her neck and bucks his hips.
"Are we alone?" she gasps, her fingers curling into his collar.
Castle's dark gaze meets hers and he nods.
She smirks and starts working at his shirt buttons. "Good." She tugs his shirt from his pants and shoves it off his shoulders, lifts her arms when he grips the hem of her shirt. Her fingers grip his belt, undoing it with ease, and when she frees his cock from his boxers and swipes her palm across the tip, he groans and drops his forehead to her shoulder.
He begins to thrust his hips into her hand, but when she begins to stroke him with a sure, firm grip, he steps back and retrieves his wallet from his pants.
By the time he sheathes himself, her clothes are on his floor, and she lies back, props her elbows on the desk so she can watch him.
His eyes drop to her center, and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. "Fuck," he murmurs, "I need to taste you." He sits on the chair, drapes her legs over his shoulders, and swipes his tongue up her slit.
Her elbows fail her and she falls back with a gasp, and her hands search for something to hold onto as he ravages her with his mouth. She buries her fingers in his hair and holds him to her, her other hand gripping the edge of the desk.
Two fingers slide inside her entrance, and she rolls her hips against his face as his tongue flattens against her clit and he pumps his hand. She's already close, the time since their last coupling and their earlier argument heightening the tension in the air.
Her head falls back against the desk with a soft thump, and Castle looks up, pulls his mouth from her clit with a soft sucking noise.
"You okay?" he rasps, his voice deep with arousal, his fingers stilling.
Kate digs her heels into his back and pushes his head back down to her. "I'm fine," she gasps, her back arching when he flicks her clit with his tongue. "Fuck, Castle, God."
He chuckles, and the vibrations send shockwaves through her body, and her limbs tremble as she arches with her climax. Castle doesn't let up, just curls his fingers inside her, stroking her inner walls as his tongue laps up her release.
Eventually it's too much, and she pushes his head away, brushes his hair from his forehead when he props his chin on her stomach and smiles at her. She narrows her eyes. "Don't be cocky," she chastises him, but there's no bite behind her words, and his grin just widens.
He stands and slides his hands down her thighs, then grips the back of her knees and tugs her towards the edge of the desk. "Turn around," he almost growls.
She lifts her brow, but she does as she says, slides to the floor and turns to face the desk. She feels his cock brush against her ass, and he presses his palm to her back, gently pushes her down. She looks over her shoulder, and when he grips his cock and strokes a few times, she squirms her ass, grins at the low groan that it draws from him.
He slides his cock through her wet folds a few times before nudging her entrance, and she lifts her ass to give him a better angle. He groans her name as he enters, and she sighs when he fills her.
God, she's missed him.
She squirms again and meets his gaze. He lifts a questioning brow, and she gives him a sly smile. He mirrors her grin, and he digs his fingers into her hips, slides his cock out slowly, and slams back into her.
He's relentless, his hips pistoning, his cock hitting her just right, and before long she's crying out again, pushing back into him, her hands gripping the pieces of paper next to her head. She turns her head to press her cheek to the desk as she gasps in pleasure, and even in the throes of orgasm, two words catch her eye.
Nikki Heat.
Her brain barely registers the words before Castle curses behind her and buries himself deep, pulsing inside her. He plasters himself to her, his chest against her back as he catches his breath.
"You're amazing," he grumbles in her ear, nipping her earlobe before standing up.
By the time she can stand up straight without falling over, he's disposed of the condom and slid his boxers on. She picks up the short stack of papers that had been on the desk, notices that, despite her writhing on top of them, they remain legible and relatively in order.
Castle wraps his arm around her naked waist and pulls her into his side. "Unless you want me to carry you to bed, caveman-style," he teases, "you might want to put some clothes on." When she just quirks her brow at him, he smirks. "At least underwear."
She chuckles, but her eyes roam over the page, taking in what she's reading. She's read everything he's written at least twice - his older work even more - and she doesn't recognize this from any of the previous Nikki Heat books. It takes her a few sentences before she realizes this is new, and it must be from the next installment.
Castle rests his chin on her shoulder and presses a kiss to her neck. "Do you like it?" he asks, and she swears he sounds nervous.
She turns her head so she can see his face. "Is this the new book?" He nods, and she sets the paper down, turns so she can loop her arms around his neck. "I do like it, but I don't want to read anymore."
Disappointment clouds his face and she tugs his mouth down to hers. "I want to wait until it's done," she whispers before stepping away and glancing around for her clothes.
He does have a point about putting at least something on; now that her body's cooled, she realizes that the air conditioner has kicked on, and she shivers. She finds her shirt on the lamp behind his desk, but before she can put it on, she notices Castle staring at her chest and smirking.
She looks down and chuckles at the dark smudges on her breast. "Had you just printed when I got here?" she jokes.
"Yeah," he admits. "I tried to write, but I couldn't concentrate, so I printed the latest chapter so I'd feel like I was doing something." He steps close and lifts his hand, traces the ink with his fingers.
She shivers at the contact and pushes her chest into his touch, and as soon as his thumb brushes her nipple, she takes his hand and leads him towards the bedroom.
Clothes can wait.
