WE COULD JUMP IN
POST-LAST CALL AU
RATED M
Whole world could change in a minute
Just one kiss could stop this spinning
Want To - Sugarland
In the two years he's known her, Rick Castle has seen many sides of one Kate Beckett. She's been angry at him more times than he can count, occasionally elegant, and always downright sexy. He's seen her be commanding and aggressive in an interrogation room, and vulnerable after she lost her apartment.
But he's never seen her drunk.
He doesn't think he's even seen her tipsy. In fact, until tonight, he thought it was very possible that alcohol just didn't affect her.
She's not can't-keep-her-head-up drunk, but she is slightly clumsy, certain words rolling off her tongue with some difficulty.
After just one beer, Montgomery excuses himself first, claps Rick on the back on his way out of the booth.
Ryan follows him just a few minutes later, claiming he promised Jenny he wouldn't be home too late. Rick and Esposito share a look; neither of them will be surprised if their friend pops the question soon.
Lanie and Esposito stay for a second round of drinks, and Rick doesn't miss the way his friends keep glancing at each other from across the table as they sip.
He also doesn't miss that Kate drains her beer in just a few gulps and signals for another.
"Well," Lanie says after she finishes hers, "I better get going. I'm on call tomorrow." She nudges Kate's shoulder. "You good?"
Kate shifts her gaze to Rick for a long moment, then nods. "Yeah. I'm gonna stay a bit longer. See you later."
Lanie lifts her brow, but slides out of the booth. "Okay. Come on, Javi, walk me home."
Esposito's cheeks turn bright red and he follows her. "Yes, ma'am. Bye, guys," he adds, clapping Rick on the shoulder. "Thanks for the drinks."
"Any time." Rick shifts his attention back to Kate, who's looking at him with an inquisitive stare, a slight furrow to her brow. "What?" he asks, brushing his fingers along his cheek. "Do I have something on my face?"
Kate shakes her head and traces her finger around the rim of her empty glass. "No. I just can't believe you bought this place."
He chuckles. "Well. I didn't want to see it shut down. After all, it has such an important place in literary history," he adds, glancing at the picture of him from years before. "Besides, it should be a good investment."
Kate hums in response.
Before either of them can continue the conversation, the waitress stops at the table with fresh beers for both of them. Aware that neither of them has eaten anything in a few hours, Rick orders them each a burger and fries.
"I'm not hungry," Kate protests, twisting a napkin between her fingers.
Rick lifts his brows. "All you've eaten today is what, a few M&M's?" he points out. "Besides, I am hungry, and I don't want you to steal all my fries."
The tips of her ears go pink. "I don't steal your fries," she mumbles.
"Sure you don't," he teases with a chuckle.
Judging by the way Kate scarfs down her entire plate, then gives a long, forlorn look at his, Rick knows he made the right decision to order food for her. He orders a side of large fries to save some of his own, and once his stomach is satisfied, he gets another round of beers, sips at his while his companion picks at the fries.
Kate is quieter than normal tonight; after the group's jovial departure from the precinct, she's almost withdrawn into herself. He knows her well enough that, if she feels like it, she'll say something eventually.
Perhaps, he muses when she drains her beer, after some more liquid courage.
"Really, Castle?" she teases when another glass appears in front of her. "More beer? Doesn't this place serve the good stuff?" She smirks and turns her attention to the long counter, to the bottles lined up in front of the mirrored wall.
Rick can't help but smirk. "Hey, this beer is the good stuff," he retorts, tapping the side of her glass.
She quirks her brow and leans forward, rests her elbows on the table. "I know, we should do shots!"
She almost yells the last word, and Rick jumps, his cheeks warming. "I have a better idea," he says, scooting out of the booth and holding his hand out. "Why don't I get you home?"
Kate stares at his hand for a long moment, finally reaches out and curls her long, slim fingers around his. Rick's breath catches in his throat, and he has to pause, to will some of his blood away from his groin so he doesn't embarrass himself.
"Or, maybe we can stay a bit longer?" she suggests. Her eyes flick to their joined hands then back up to his face, and her teeth trap her bottom lip as she gazes up at him through her lashes.
God, she's trying to kill him.
He hesitates. "You don't work tomorrow?"
She shakes her head. "Nope. I can be out as late as I want." She tugs his hand and he stumbles forward, catches himself on the table before lowering himself into the booth next to her.
"Okay, Beckett, you win," he teases. "You want something other than beer?"
It doesn't escape his notice that she keeps her grip on his hand, and he takes a long, deep breath through his nose, tries to ignore the swirl of conflicting emotions going through his mind.
"What would Nikki Heat drink?" Kate almost purrs, scooting close to him, her thigh pressing into his.
Rick gulps. What the hell has gotten into her?
"Te-" His voice cracks and he clears his throat. "Tequila," he manages to get out.
Kate's face lights up in a tipsy smile. "Tequila it is," she announces, raising her hand for the waitress.
Four shots appear in front of them moments later, and although Rick intends to stay relatively aware so he can make sure she gets home safe, he picks up a shot and holds it in the air, turns to face his partner.
"What are we drinking to?"
Kate tilts her head, considering. After several seconds she grabs one of the glasses. "To new adventures," she announces, clinking the glass against his, giggling when some of his tequila splashes onto the table. "Oops."
Rick smirks, then puts his shot glass to his lips, tips it back. The tequila burns on its way down his throat and settles in his stomach, warming him from the inside. Before he can even reach for his second shot, Kate has downed both of hers, and his brows lift as she slams the glass on the table with a loud thud.
"Damn, Kate," he mutters, moving the empty glasses to the edge of the table. "There's no need to rush."
She shrugs. "Except the rush to have a good time." She motions to the empty glasses. "More? Or do I have to drink alone?"
Rick chuckles, but common sense prevails. He's already had two beers and two shots, and although the food, and his fairly high tolerance, had helped, he's loose enough that he knows it's time to stop. Especially considering Kate's first two beers had been on an empty stomach, and had obviously affected her more than usual.
"I think I'll switch to water," he admits, "but you're welcome to keep going. I'll keep you company. What would you like? More tequila? Or switch it up?"
Kate narrows her eyes as she considers. "I want…" She pauses for a moment, then her face lights up. "Something fancy. It's a classy place, I want a classy drink. Think they can make a Sidecar?"
Rick grins. "I'm sure they can."
By the time he pays the check, Kate has her head propped up by her hand, her droopy gaze locked on the table in front of her.
He'd managed to get her to drink a glass of water between her two Sidecars, but still, she jumps when he places his hand on her back, her eyes darting around the room until they land on his.
Rick smirks and scoots out of the booth. "Come on, Beckett, let's get you home before you fall asleep," he offers, holding out his hand.
He gets a strong sense of déjà vu when she looks at his hand and takes it, but instead of pulling him back down as she had earlier, he tugs her up. She stumbles a little, bumping her hip on the table, and she curses.
"You okay?" he asks, his free hand flying to the injured body part. He presses his palm to her hip, hoping that the warmth of his touch brings some relief.
Judging by the dark gaze that meets his, and the slight part of her lips, his attempted comfort might have more than one effect.
Rick clears his throat and removes his hand from her hip. "Right," he manages, ignoring the light crack in his voice. "Ready?"
Somehow they manage to leave the bar without running into any more furniture, although Rick is sure that his firm grip on Kate's hand probably has something to do with it.
He shivers when they emerge onto the sidewalk; it's later than he realized, and the cold winter air is a bit of a shock after the warm comfort of the bar - and the woman beside him.
There's a light tug on his hand, and he looks at her, at the deep warmth in her gaze, the way her teeth tease her bottom lip. "Shall I walk you home?" he asks, his voice rough from the chill.
Kate smirks, but she doesn't respond right away, instead quirks her eyebrow and steps closer. "'Shall you?'" she repeats in a teasing tone, her free arm sliding under his coat and around his waist. "Are you the dashing love interest in a historical romance novel now?"
His heart skips approximately forty-seven beats as she presses her body to his, and lets go of his hand so she can wind her other arm around his waist.
"Or are you the guy that accompanies his woman home, only to take advantage of her when she's in a vulnerable state?" she husks, her gaze locked on his mouth.
"I-" He's stuck, frozen with surprise at how bold she's being. Maybe it's the alcohol - actually, he's almost certain that it is - but as much as they flirt with each other, never has it felt like this. LIke they're standing at the edge of something, that she would say yes to anything. He keeps his eyes on hers, and after a long moment hers lift, and he almost gives in when he sees the raw, naked desire in her look.
Contrary to his groin's opinion, he needs to step away. She's drunk enough that she doesn't seem to have full control over what she's saying - or doing, if the press of her body against his is any indication. He sends a desperate plea to whichever higher power might be listening that she doesn't notice his erection before he can hide it. They must listen, because she doesn't react, and he's able to extract her arms from his coat with relative ease.
"For the record," he husks, "I would never take advantage of you."
Her cheeks flush and her lips lift in a shy, demure smile. "I know," she almost whispers.
He gazes at her for a long moment, finds himself getting lost in her gorgeous eyes, drifting towards her, the call of her mouth getting louder by the moment.
A loud honk from the next block cuts through the fog of desire between them and he jumps back, breaks their eye contact and looks around.
He needs to leave.
Putting her in a cab and sending her home is not something he would normally do, but if he's around her for much longer, he might combust.
Luckily for Kate, although not for his painful arousal, there's no cab in sight, so he forces himself to walk her home like the gentleman he usually is. He can't risk their skin coming in contact but he also doesn't trust her to stay upright for the mile or so to her place. As a compromise to himself, he holds out his arm, offering his elbow like he does on occasion.
"Come on, Beckett," he says, forcing his tone to remain neutral and not betray the pure desire coursing through his veins. "It's too cold to wait for a cab. I'll walk you home."
Her brow quirks at his "too cold" comment, and he realizes there is a very real chance she's debating whether or not to make a teasing remark. If their roles were reversed, he probably would, so he's a little surprised that she just loops her arm through his and leads him down the street.
Although Kate sobers a little on the walk, it still takes them almost an hour to reach her building, and she leans on him heavily to stay upright. He's managed to resist the temptation to put his arm around her shoulders, though, instead just tightens his grip when he feels her stumble or slow.
He guides her towards her elevator, and once the door closes, he begins to relax. Just a few more minutes, and he can leave her in the comfort and safety of her apartment, and remove himself from her tempting, intoxicating presence.
That's when her head drops to his shoulder.
When the elevator doors open on her floor, he starts to walk forward, but when she doesn't budge, he looks at her face, realizes that she's fallen asleep.
Well, shit.
He glances around for a moment but quickly realizes that it's pointless. So he takes a deep breath, extracts his arm from hers, puts one arm behind her back and the other behind her legs, and lifts her up.
She lets out a quiet grunt and her arm loops around his neck, and he inhales sharply at the warm puff of air on his neck when she sighs.
Double shit.
He steps out of the elevator and approaches her door, but as he does, he realizes that he needs her key. She doesn't keep a spare in the hall, and he doesn't have one, either. After a few moments of standing there, helpless, he puts Kate down, holding her up with his arm around her back. He gently shakes her.
"Kate," he whispers, aware of the late hour and not wanting to bother her neighbors. When she doesn't stir, he shakes her with a little more force. "Beckett. I need your key."
She finally stirs after a few more shakes, and she blinks, her lips turning up in a slow smile when she meets his eyes. "Hey, Castle."
He gulps, all of his blood rushing south at the way she almost moans his name. "Your key, Beckett," he repeats, his voice strained.
He needs to get her inside and then he needs to leave.
She reaches into her coat pocket and extracts her key ring, her grin turning sly, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. She dangles it in front of his face, and when he tries to reach for it, she giggles, lifts them out of his reach.
He's still taller than her, though, and at the moment more coordinated, so he just grabs the keys from her hand and unlocks the door. He grabs her hand and pulls her inside. Although he doesn't mean to, he tugs a little more rough than he'd intended, and Kate ends up stumbling into him, her fingers grabbing the lapel of his jacket to keep from falling.
His fingers dig into her hips and he holds his breath, wills her to push away from him, wills himself to walk away.
Her gaze falls to his lips, and before he can react, her arms loop around his neck, and her mouth is on his.
Although his body freezes, his mind races a thousand miles a minute with conflicting emotions. He's imagined their first kiss more times than he can count, in various scenarios - undercover, an explosion of passion after a loud fight, a tender caress of their lips after a declaration of love.
A sloppy kiss with a drunk Kate was not one of them.
After a few moments she pulls away, and she frowns as her eyes search his. Her cheeks flush and she extracts herself from his embrace.
"That was stupid," she mutters, walking around him, going farther into her apartment. "Forget I did that."
Rick hesitates before shutting and locking her door. "Wait-"
She shakes her head. "Don't," she interrupts him. Her back to him, she leans against her kitchen counter, her shoulders slumped. After a few moments she stands up straight and turns to face him. "Good night, Castle."
She pushes herself off the counter too hard, and she stumbles forward. Rick rushes and catches her before she falls, his hands grabbing her biceps.
"I got you," he assures her when she grips his coat again.
He mutters a curse under his breath. How did he think he could just leave her once she was inside? Obviously she's still a bit drunk, so he closes his eyes for a brief moment to compose himself before draping his arm around her shoulders. "Let's get you to bed."
Kate stiffens at his side.
"Not like that," he teases, although his blood warms at the thought of taking her to bed that way.
She's silent as he leads her to her bedroom, and he can't help but wonder what she's thinking, if her mind is in the same place as his, or if she's just not thinking at all.
Or, he adds when he hears her sniffle, if her mind is somewhere else entirely.
He stops them at her bedroom door, unsure if he should go inside, and he nudges her back, rests his hands on her shoulders as he leans down to look in her eyes.
Shit, she's crying.
"What's wrong?" he asks in a soft voice, resisting the temptation to cup her jaw, to kiss away the tears that wet her cheeks. "Kate," he prods when she won't meet his eyes, "what is it?"
She sniffles again and shakes her head. "Nothing, I-" Her voice cracks and her nose scrunches as more tears fill her eyes. "You don't want me."
His jaw drops. Dear God, that is the farthest thing from the truth. Surely she must know that.
"Kate," he husks, giving in and tucking his finger under her chin, tilting her head to look at him, "I can assure you, I do. I've wanted you since the first time I saw you."
Her eyes search his; for what, he's not sure, but she must find it, because she smiles. "Yeah?" She shifts closer, leaning into him, and when her hips press into his, he can't help but groan. Her hand slides between them and she cups him through his pants. "I'll say you do," she murmurs, running her palm along his length.
His breath catches in his throat. "Oh my God," he moans, bucking his hips into her touch. He loses himself in the moment, but when he feels the familiar tightening in his groin he steps away and grips the door frame. "Not like this," he insists. When she pouts, he reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You need to be sober so you have the experience you deserve."
Kate's cheeks turn a deep pink, and she exhales a shaky breath. "Good to know," she croaks out. She takes a step back. "Well, good night."
Rick wakes early the next morning with a catch in his neck and a mild headache, but as the events of the previous night and early morning come back to him, he grins. He's not sure what Kate will remember, but regardless, they seem like they're in a good place.
As he folds the blankets he'd used and places them on the edge of the couch, he listens for any sign that Kate's awake, any noise from the direction of her room, but all is silent. He takes advantage and quickly uses her bathroom, resists the urge to look in on her. Watching her sleep when she doesn't even know he stayed overnight would be creepy, even for him.
Although her couch beckons to him for a little more sleep, he resists, instead goes into her kitchen to make coffee and peruse her breakfast options. Much like the last time he'd slept over, her eggs are expired, but at least she has non-furry bacon.
He smiles when he spots her coffee maker as he searches her cabinets for baking supplies. It had been his housewarming gift for her, a better model than she would have bought for herself, and despite her limited counter space, she's set it front and center. He assembles pancake batter as the coffee brews, intending to set it aside until his unwilling host is awake. He hears the toilet flush just as he gives the batter a final stir, though, so instead he finds her griddle and plugs it in.
Movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention, and he looks up, barely manages to stifle a laugh.
Kate looks terrible.
Any time he's seen her in the morning she's been relatively put together, even the couple days that she stayed with him after her last apartment blew up. But her normally perfect hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail, tendrils framing her face, and her eyes are barely open as she shuffles across the floor.
She's adorable.
He grabs a glass and fills it with water. "Good morning," he greets her, ignoring the sharp edge of her collarbone, visible where her oversized shirt has slipped off her shoulder. "Drink this."
She grunts, but takes the glass and downs it in one long gulp.
Rick's eyes shoot up to his hairline, and he wills his thoughts to stay civil.
That was sexy as hell.
"Coffee's almost done," he continues, distracting himself with a generous pour of batter onto the now-hot griddle. He places a few pieces of bacon on the other side. "But I want you to drink at least two more glasses of water first. And I'll have food in just a couple minutes."
Kate lowers herself to one of the bar stools across the island and meets his eyes with her blurry gaze. "You're here," she croaks, her voice rough. She presses the heel of her hand against her forehead. "God, my head hurts."
Rick takes her glass, refills it, and puts it back in front of her. "Water," he commands in a soft voice. "It'll help. So will Aspirin, but I couldn't find any."
She tilts her head. "You snooped?"
"Only until I found a toothbrush."
She grunts again and pushes herself back from the counter.
By the time she returns with a medicine bottle in her hand, he's prepared a plate with a pancake, butter and syrup already on it, as he knows she likes. He doesn't pour her coffee, though, holding firm on his instructions to drink more water. She's not happy, but she complies anyway.
As they eat, Kate's demeanor improves, and by the time she's midway through her second cup of coffee, she's almost acting like her normal self.
Aside from her obvious wince when he accidentally drops his fork onto his plate, that is.
Rick smirks, has a joke on the tip of his tongue, but when she rubs her temple and reaches for her water, he stands. "You go back to bed," he suggests, refilling her water. "I'll clean up and get out of your perfect hair."
His quip about her hair earns a subtle lift of her lips, and he feels his chest fill with pride. Even when she's hungover, he can still make her smile.
She stands and puts her empty plate in the sink. After a brief hesitation she rests her hand on his forearm, and she raises to her toes, brushes her lips to his rough cheek. "Thanks, Castle," she whispers. When he lifts a questioning brow, she shrugs and looks away. "For, you know. Being a gentleman."
Rick's face burns at the comment, and he wonders if she means what he thinks she means. Whether she remembers their kiss, his arousal. Whether she'd heard him in her bathroom. He'd covered his mouth to muffle his groan, but if she'd been awake…
She doesn't offer anything else, though, just gives him a demure smile and retreats to her couch.
"Go rest, Kate," he instructs, pointing in the direction of her bedroom.
She shrugs. "I am resting. You sure I can't help?"
He just levels a glare at her until she smirks. "You can cook and clean for me when I'm hungover," he tells her, knowing full well that she would anyway.
He's hyper aware of her eyes following his every move as he cleans, and he finishes quickly, wipes down the counter with a final flourish before draping the damp dish towel on the oven door.
She stands and follows him as he heads towards the door and grabs his coat.
"You sure you don't want to stay?" Kate asks, her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers gripping her sleeve.
Rick hesitates as he shoves one foot into its shoe. For him, it's not a question of wanting to stay, because he does, more than anything. He wants to stay for the rest of his life. But he doesn't want to push too hard and risk pushing her away.
"Look, Kate, I gotta be honest." When her shoulders stiffen, he realizes how that sounds, and he shakes his head. "Not bad," he assures her. "I do want to stay. But I also know how much hangovers suck, so I don't want to stay because I made breakfast and you feel obligated. Plus," he adds, wrinkling his nose, "I could use a shower."
Kate smirks. "I have a shower too, you know," she teases. She visibly relaxes, and she reaches out a tentative hand, touches his sleeve. "I'm not asking you out of obligation." She lifts her shy gaze to his. "I'm asking because I want to spend time with you."
He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can, she continues.
"I like you, Rick. I liked kissing you. Yes, I remember," she adds when his brows lift in surprise. "I may have been drunk, but I remember every moment of last night."
Her eyes flick down his body, and he shifts, his cheeks burning as he remembers the way she'd palmed him with such confidence. Oh, what he wouldn't give to feel her fingers curl around his bare length.
"Tell you what," he manages after clearing his throat. "I'll go home, clean up, change, and then maybe we can spend the day together."
Her face brightens with a smile. "Perfect."
He doesn't know what he'd expected upon his return, but when she opens her door two hours later wearing little more than a short, sheer robe, his jaw drops.
She smirks and grabs his coat, tugs him inside, and shuts the door behind him.
He doesn't even have a chance to greet her before her mouth is on his, her tongue slicking between his lips. His hands drop to her hips, and he tugs her into him, grunts when she slides her thigh between his and trails her fingers through his hair.
His pants tighten immediately, and he rolls his hips, tries to pull her closer than physically possible. He thrusts slowly, looking for any relief, and she tears her mouth from his with a gasp, lifts her thigh high on his hip, almost sitting on his leg.
"Wait," Rick gasps when she rolls her lower half against him. "I didn't just come over for this."
Kate smirks and reaches for his belt. "I know," she assures him, setting her foot back on the floor and backing up.
With her grip firm on his belt, Rick has no choice but to follow her, not that he wouldn't anyway. No, he'd follow her straight to hell and back if she asked.
They barely make it five feet before he needs to taste her again. He tugs her back into him, and she twirls around in his arms, lunges into him.
This time he deepens the kiss, curling his tongue around hers, nipping and sucking on her oft-abused bottom lip. She's intoxicating, giving as much as he takes, and although they're barely out of her entryway, she paws at his jeans.
His own fingers claw at her robe, at the loose knot that comes undone with the lightest tug. He has the briefest thought that he should take his time and savor her body as he uncovers it, but as soon as she palms him through his boxers, his mind goes empty.
She guides him to her couch and nudges him to sit down, and she kneels over him, her legs bracketing him. He can feel her, even through his boxers and whatever she's wearing under her robe. It's not thick, he's sure of it, because even through two layers, he feels how wet she is.
Her hips grind into his and he tears his mouth from her with a groan. "Fuck, Beckett," he curses, his head falling back.
She stands long enough to slip the robe off her shoulders, and as it flutters to the floor, he can only stare. She's wearing possibly the shortest negligee he's ever seen, the hem hitting her just above the bottom of her ass, and even though it covers her center, he can tell she's not wearing underwear.
So the arousal he'd felt, he realizes, was all her.
He swallows as his gaze trails up her body, to the curve of her hips and her slender waist, and he scoots forward to the edge of the couch, lifts his hands to hover just over her thighs.
"May I?" he almost growls.
He's so close to her that he can see her thighs clench at his words, and if he wasn't already harder than he could ever remember, that reaction would have done it.
She doesn't answer right away, and he looks up at her, meets her eyes with his.
"Kate," he prods, "may I touch you?"
Her shaky inhale is audible even over the blood rushing through his ears on the way to his erection. She gives the most imperceptible nod, and he places his hands on those perfect hips.
He feathers his touch up her sides, over her ribs, and his fingers curl into the hem of the negligee, draws it up her body. With every inch of skin he uncovers, his heart beats faster and faster until he thinks it will beat right out of his chest, and he'll drop dead without even tasting her or feeling her break around him.
Her hands grip his hair as he leans forward and presses his mouth just above her belly button, and when she gasps and thrusts her hips forward he smiles against her skin. He lets go of her negligee, trails his hands down her sides, digs his fingers into her hips and holds her to him as he drifts his mouth lower.
Before he reaches the apex of her thighs, though, she steps back, letting go of his head and tugging the negligee over her head.
"I wanted to do that," he pretends to complain, pushing out his bottom lip in a fake pout.
She lifts one sharp eyebrow and runs her fingers through his hair. "You want me to put it back on?" she teases, her nails lightly scratching the back of his head.
"No," he quickly answers. "No, let's not waste any more time."
She smirks and grips the collar of his shirt. "Can we get rid of this, then?"
"Absolutely."
He stands to remove his shirt, and he smirks when Kate's eyes drop to the front of his pants. "See something you like?" he teases, hooking his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers as his shirt flutters to the floor.
She arches a brow. "I don't see it, that's the problem."
He chuckles and toes off his shoes, then pushes his pants and boxers to the floor. He watches Kate's tongue dart out to lick her lips, and he swears he hardens even more. She reaches her hand towards him, but before she can curl her fingers around his erection he grabs her hips and tugs her into him, lowers his mouth to hers.
Her mouth opens on a sigh and her fingers dig into his ribs as she plasters herself against him. Their tongues tangle together and he slides his hands to her ass and squeezes. Her hips roll against him, and he groans, trails his mouth along the long column of her throat, nips at her collarbone when her fingers curl around his length.
He drops his forehead to her shoulder as she strokes him slowly, her thumb brushing over his tip, and he takes a shuddering breath when she adds a slight twist of her wrist.
"Kate," he growls, "I'm not going to last if you do that."
She presses her smile to the side of his neck, and for a moment he thinks she'll keep going until his release, but she lets go, loops her arms around his waist. "Then take me to bed," she whispers in his ear, tugging his earlobe with her teeth.
His hips jerk at her seductive words and he steps back, takes her hand, and leads her to her bedroom.
All he can do is stand at the end of the bed and stare.
He's wanted her for so long, fantasized about her, what she would look and feel like. And now that she's at his figurative doorstep, bare and beckoning, he can't bring himself to move. He wants to remember this moment for the rest of his life.
She reclines against her pillows, one leg bent at a tantalizing angle, and she smirks as she holds up a condom. "Are you just going to look at me, or what?" she teases.
He narrows his eyes and props one knee on the mattress, pushes her comforter to the floor. "That'll just get in the way," he almost growls when she lifts a brow in question. He slides his palms up her smooth shins, cups the back of her knees before tugging her so she's on her back.
She grins up at him when he hovers over her, propping himself on one elbow. He trails his other hand behind her thigh, hikes her leg on his hip, cups the swell of her ass. His fingers find the arousal on the inside of her thighs, and he teases her slick folds, revels in the way her eyes flutter shut and she gasps.
"Castle," she breathes, her hands gripping the sheet as she lifts her hips, encouraging his touch.
He shifts his hand between them, and he brushes his fingers against her swollen bud before sliding two fingers inside her waiting entrance.
His thumb works at her, rubbing tight circles as he pumps his fingers, memorizing every gasp, every shudder, every response to his touch. Finally she arches into him, her body twisting and clenching around him as he presses his thumb hard against her clit and strokes her velvet walls.
He withdraws his hand as she relaxes against the bed, her satisfied gaze finding his, her lips lifting in a lazy smile. Without thinking he rolls his hips, his erection rubbing against her thigh, and she raises her eyebrows, trails her finger along his length.
He closes his eyes when she touches him, focusing all of his energy on not coming before he has the opportunity to feel her around him. He's so distracted that he doesn't realize she's sheathed him until he feels her fingers curl around him and guide him inside her welcoming heat. He groans, dropping his forehead to her shoulder as he stills.
God, she feels amazing.
After a few moments she squeezes him and he lifts his gaze to hers, gives his hips a slow pump at her nod. Her breath stutters and her head falls back, and he takes that as encouragement, props himself above her as he speeds his thrusts.
Already she clenches around him, her fingers digging into his back as she arches into him and cries out. She locks her ankles at his ass and lifts her hips into his, and she gasps his name and shatters around him.
He follows her over the edge moments later, his hips jerking one final time before he grunts with his release. His forehead falls to hers, and as Kate stills beneath him, he sighs, shifts so he can brush her hair from her face.
She opens her eyes, her gaze meeting his, and her lips lift with a satisfied smile. He mirrors her expression, and she chuckles, cups the back of his head, holds him in place as she brushes a soft kiss to his mouth. She starts to pull back but he doesn't let her, can't bear the thought of breaking the bubble they've created.
His mind swirls with doubts. What now? Aside from his desire for another round of sex immediately, he wants more than that. He wants to take her to movies and fancy dinners and to his house in the Hamptons. He wants to cuddle on the couch and watch movies every night until they lose themselves in their passion.
He wants to spend the rest of his life with her.
But he has no idea what she wants.
He pushes her back into the mattress and slicks his tongue between her lips, and she loops her arms around his neck, arches into him. He cups her breast, his thumb flicking her nipple, and she tears her mouth from his.
"Castle," she gasps as he trails his hand down her torso, teases her through her arousal. "Wait."
He lifts his head and gazes into her dark eyes. "You're right," he rumbles, pushing himself off her and reaching for the nightstand to grab a fresh condom.
She sits up and curls her fingers around his wrist. "Hey, wait. There's no rush. I need a few minutes to recover," she adds, her cheeks turning pink.
He smirks. "Well," he retorts, dropping the condom back on the nightstand, "maybe I just need to get creative, then."
"Rick." She sits up and cups his cheek with her palm. "Let's just lie here for a while. Then we can take our time when we both have our energy back." She smirks and winks, but when he doesn't react, she frowns. "What's the hurry?"
Rick huffs and leans back against the headboard, grabs a pillow and places it on his lap. "I don't want to leave this bed," he finally tells her, running his fingers through his hair. "Being here, it's like a fantasy. I don't want to go back to reality just yet."
Kate cocks her head, her brows furrowing in confusion. "You think this is a one time thing?"
He shrugs.
"Rick," she breathes, reaching a hand out to cover his knee. "I'm not going to wake up tomorrow and pretend this never happened." When he glances down, she cups his jaw, lifts his face until his gaze meets hers. "This, us," she clarifies, "is more than today. It's more than a couple great orgasms."
Rick can't help but chuckle, and his cock hardens at the thought of tasting her. "Only a couple? I'll have to work harder next time," he teases. He covers her hand with his and slots their fingers together. "For the record, it's more than today for me, too."
She offers him a small smile. "Good. Now," she continues, leaning forward to press her mouth to his in a quick kiss. "I'll go get us some water, and then we can pick up where we left off."
"And tomorrow?" he prods.
She shrugs and grins. "Maybe tomorrow you can take me out to dinner. And the next day we go to a movie. And then we take each day as it comes."
Rick smiles. "I like that plan."
"Good."
She leans forward and takes his mouth with hers, and he tangles his fingers in her hair, slowly lowers her to the mattress.
When his hips settle between hers she pulls her mouth from his and raises an eyebrow. "Now, what's that you said about getting creative?"
Rick chuckles and brushes one more kiss to her mouth before drifting down her torso, until he reaches his destination, drapes her legs over his shoulders. He glances at her and smirks. "Be ready to scream," he husks before lowering his mouth to her.
Within minutes, she does.
A/N: Happy (belated) Birthday to the fabulous Jenn, who's been the source of many fic ideas of late, the source of encouragement and pom poms and a (mostly) willing recipient to my frequent word count updates. Many of the fics I have in my queue are ones that were either born of discussions, or have been resurrected at her urging. I hope you liked this one!