The next day, Castle didn't come into the precinct and even when they caught a new case, she didn't call him, too cowardly to face up to what she had done just yet.

She had used him, used his body for reassurance because the fear of losing him had shaken her. It had made her reckless, had driven her to embrace a need for him she had spent nearly three months repressing, but it was no excuse for leaving him to wake alone. The whole point, she reasoned to herself, was to comfort him, to erase the events of the night from his mind, and from hers. Instead, she had loved him and left him.

Hell of a great comfort she was.

Memories of their strictly sexual relationship fluttered in her mind, the look of hopeful longing that had constantly inhabited his eyes throughout that period of their budding relationship flashing every time she closed her own. It made her feel even worse.

But a week later, when they came upon a case of what was originally thought to be a cop who actually turned out to be a dead stripper, she couldn't resist finding his name in her phone's contact list.

"Detective Beckett," he answered smoothly. "So you haven't forgotten how to use a phone."

She winced even though the jab was subtle and teasing, and scraped her fingers through her hair.

"Interested in coming in, Castle? We've got a new case I think you might enjoy."

He hesitated and she chewed on her lip, prepared to accept the well-deserved rejection, but then…

"I'll see you in twenty."

"With coffee?" she asked quietly, not because she needed her caffeine fix from him – although, she had missed her vanilla lattes this past week – but because coffee was their thing, and maybe she could get them back on track, step by step, with little things like coffee and lunch at Remy's and the 'freaky' cases they both worked so well at solving. Maybe they could forget about what had happened after she had escorted him home the night 3XK had escaped.

"Of course, Kate," he replied warmly.

He hung up, but true to his word, strolled into the precinct fifteen minutes later with two coffees in hand. She had hurt him, she knew that without even having search for the wounded quality to his eyes, but he appeared willing to forgive if she was willing to work for it and she swore to herself she was.

She probably could have found a better way to work for forgiveness.

Dragging Castle along to the strip club was probably not the smartest idea she could have had, but it was definitely encouraging to witness his eyes turn the unmistakable shade of dark blue she knew all too well the moment he saw her outfit for the night.

They had agreed to meet at her apartment and apparently, he had felt the authority to use his new key that was supposed to be solely for emergencies instead of knocking, therefore walking in on her before she could cover herself with the cardigan she had laid out. His gaze had raked unabashedly down her figure, over the satin and black lace clinging to her body, before resting resolutely on her smokey eyes and swallowing thickly.

"Ready to go?"

In the car, his hand boldly migrated to her knee, his thumb tracing maddening circles over her patella through the sheer material of her tights. His fingers trailed along the inside of her thigh, venturing higher as if to see just how far he could get. She nearly ran a red light twice before finally catching his fingers in an iron grip and giving him a warning glare.

"I can still see the bruise I left here," he commented almost smugly, his middle finger brushing too high on her inner thigh, over the covered skin where there was still a mark from how he had sucked too intently on her skin nearly a week ago. It was faded, he couldn't see it through the opaque fabric of her stockings, but it was in fact still there and she shifted her leg, caused his hand to fall away.

Kate swatted at his fingers when they tried to cover her knee once more and he gratefully returned his hand to his own lap, but only for the rest of the short drive. Once they were getting their hands stamped for admission to the club's entrance, his palm splayed broadly across the small of her back and his body pressed too close to be acceptable.

"Castle," she growled as they made their way through the sea of overly excited women shouting for the half naked men on the stage. He was glued to her side, possessively holding to her waist. "Behave."

She felt his smirk when he lowered his lips to the shell of her ear.

"No promises."

He followed Kate through the swinging bathroom door, dodging it with a huff when she tried to slam it in his face.

"C'mon Beckett, don't be cranky. We've got a new lead," he said delightedly, but with a hidden smirk because he kind of liked seeing her worked up over something as frivolous as her hair.

"You sprayed me with a fire extinguisher," she huffed, attempting to fix the once volumized curls that he had flattened with the mixture of chemicals that had rained down on her and the stage of strippers.

"I was helping," he countered, but she scoffed at him in the club's bathroom mirror.

They had just finished interrogating Hans Van Mannschaft, the lead stripper who was once their most promising lead, and she had made a detour to the strip club's bathroom, intending to change back into her street clothes before they returned to the Twelfth to check in with Ryan and Esposito about the information they had gained from the man.

"Sure, Castle," she muttered dryly. "Can you step out now so I can change?"

"Actually, I wanted to talk about this outfit first," he mused, coming up behind her, boxing her in against the sink's countertop with his arms on each side of her waist and crowding against her back. He watched her throat bob in the mirror, her breath catching just slightly, but her shoulder nudged at him.

"We're not doing this here," she murmured, but he still placed one of his hands on her stomach, splayed his palm wide over the lace fabric of her… dress?

"This reminds me of that time you wore lingerie to my Halloween party, Beckett," he grinned, his hand trailing up the front of her body, cupping one of her satin covered breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra and he could already feel her nipple straining against the material. "And you remember how that ended," he husked, his breath purposely fanning out over the shell of her ear, and feeling satisfied when he witnessed the goosebumps erupt along the back of her neck.

Her eyes fluttered closed, her face contorting in a mixture of resistance and desire fighting for dominance, and Castle decided to push her limits even further, pulled aside the scalloped edge of the lacey black neckline and covered her bared breast with his warm palm. He watched her mouth fall open in the mirror.

Looked like desire won.

Her head dropped back against his shoulder, falling to the side and leaving the creamy line of her throat to press his lips to. It was all the permission he needed and he nudged the flimsy excuse for a cardigan from her shoulder with his nose. She assisted in shrugging the wrap off, rotating her shoulder and slipping her hand through the gaping sleeve. The black material fluttered from her arm to hang precariously from her opposite elbow before drifting to the grimy tile floor. He used his teeth to pull at the thin straps of her dress, dragging them to her biceps, dropping a kiss to each muscle and letting the straps fall to rest in the crooks of her elbows, before reattaching his lips to her neck as his hands cupped her naked flesh.

Her ribs expanded as her spine arched forward, into his touch, and she turned her head, her lips finding his jaw, raking down the line of bone with her teeth until he met her mouth with his own.

He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, nipped at the flesh, almost punishing in how he kissed her because she had left him the last time they'd done this, slipped out in the middle of the night after making love to him like it was a mistake. Which for her, it probably was. He had thought they were beyond that. He had thought they were more than this, but maybe sex was the closest thing to a connection he would ever have with Kate Beckett. Maybe this was all they would ever be.

Kate's hips rocked backwards, into the cradle of his, and then she grinded, the friction right where he needed it and already unbearable, and he bit down on the skin between her neck and her shoulder, elicited a whimper from her parted lips. He mercilessly pinched and rolled both her nipples between his fingers and she gasped, reaching up suddenly to knock his hands away from her breasts and shoving him from her back so she could turn. He wasted no time in hoisting her onto the bathroom counter, spreading her legs and huffing as he was reminded that she was wearing tights underneath her dress.

"Can't ever be easy with you, Beckett."

She cocked an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk on her lips, but her hand was in his hair, tugging him in for a sloppy kiss, all clashing teeth and frantic tongue. He pushed her dress up past her hips and jerked the black tights she wore down, feeling the thin nylon snag against his fingers but not stopping until they were past her knees and he could feel the silk expanse of her bare skin underneath his fingertips. He drew his hand up her inner thigh, glided his fingers through the slick heat between her legs, pressed his thumb against her clit, and traced hard, deliberate circles. She growled, surprising him when she dug her fingers into his ass and jerked him deeper into the space between her knees.

He dusted his lips along the swell of her breasts while she unbuckled his belt, pulled his zipper down with purposeful pressure that made his groin throb painfully, and finally worked his slacks down his thighs. Her fingers danced up his naked skin, barely touching but still affecting, and he bucked impatiently against her hand when it wrapped around his hardness. She still teased his length, stroking and trailing her nails lightly up and down before circling his tip with her thumb, biting her lip in something between amusement and anticipation.

Castle's hand tightened around her hipbone, hard enough to bruise, and he tugged her to the edge of the countertop, where he effortlessly slid into her.

Her forehead knocked into his, her breath coming in short, sharp pants as he took a moment to let her adjust. Her arms laced around his neck, securing her grip, and then her legs coiled around his, her thighs squeezed, and it was desperate again.

They fell into a quick, sloppy rhythm – his thrusts messy and the frenetic circling of her hips graceless. His open mouth covered the strip of skin over her pulse, but she tugged roughly on his hair only a moment after his tongue had the opportunity to taste her salty flesh.

"Don't even," she muttered and he knew it was because she couldn't hide the mark. She never allowed him to stain her skin in visible areas, but indignation flared hotly within him despite the logic.

"Why?" he panted. "Don't want your boyfriend to see?"

The steady rocking of her hips came to a jarring halt and she met his eyes for the first time that night.

"It was one date," she hissed, but there was apology in her eyes that he was positive she didn't want him to see. "What about you and your ex wife?" she countered bitterly, intentionally tightening her muscles around him, causing his breath to falter.

"Rumors," he growled, partially surprised she even knew about that. Gossip about him and Gina reconciling had come up in the paper maybe once or twice in the last few weeks, but it wasn't as though it was big news, which meant- "You keeping tabs on me, Beckett?"

Her teeth grit and then she was rolling her body into his with startling intensity and deliberately sucking on his neck because suddenly she was the one needing to stake claim. He didn't even care, using the hand at her back to urge her on and crush her naked chest against his.

"You were jealous," she rasped, digging her nails into the flexing muscles of his back under his shirt while the spikes of her heels dug into his calves, her mouth drifting to press over the sliver of skin between the two buttons he had left undone. "Not just then. Tonight too."

He answered her by pulling out almost completely and then plunging back in, drawing a helpless mewl from her throat, the sound vibrating through the bones of his sternum.

"So what if I was?" he muttered, the hand at her hip traveling to the small of her back, forcing her body deeper into his, feeling her inner walls clenching at the firm meeting of hips.

Her arms tightened almost painfully around his neck, her fingers brutal in his hair, and he slipped a hand between them, past the scratchy strip of lace across her abdomen, down to where they were joined. She whined low in her throat as his fingers moved in tight little circles, and then her entire body seized, bowing forward and bursting apart.

Her lower body continued to move for him, coaxed him into the same, spiraling release with her, and for a while, they both remained slumped against the smudged bathroom mirror.

Castle was the first to move, settling his hands on her thighs and slowly withdrawing from her. Kate's head fell back against the mirror, shaking the glass, and he bent down to retrieve her cardigan, folded the fabric over his arm because there was no way she was putting it back on now. Beckett allowed her heels to slip from her feet and leant forward to scrape her ripped stockings the rest of the way down her legs. She tossed them in the trashcan under the paper towel dispenser and reached for the bag containing her clothes still sitting untouched on the opposite end of the counter.

"I'll let you get changed now," he said hastily, feeling awkward and unwanted all of the sudden, needing to get out of the confined space of the women's bathroom.

"Castle?"

He lifted his downcast eyes, couldn't help the way his gaze lingered on her - half naked on a bathroom counter with her lipstick smudged and her hair sexily tousled. She was beautiful.

"You don't need to be."

His brow creased at the statement, before his mind wandered back to what she had said, about him being jealous.

Moving back towards her was a bad idea, as most of his were, and he found himself laying a kiss to her mouth before he could stop. Her lips met his with a welcoming caress, kissing him with something that tasted like hope and reassurance that he refused to put faith in. He pulled away with a sigh that was a little too sad, because he never knew it would be so frustrating – to have her in the most intimate way possible while not really having her at all.