Chapter 4:
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"I'm late, I'm late, I'm late," Beckett muttered to the empty hallway as she flew off of the elevator and hurtled toward her apartment. She started stripping off her jacket as she fell through the doorway, flicking on a light with her elbow while awkwardly juggling her purse and keys until she got her arms free. She hopped toward her bedroom as she yanked her boots off her feet and gave a despairing glance toward the wall clock.
6:49.
She'd had this all planned out. She told Espo and Ryan that she absolutely had to leave by 5:30, but one lead leads to another and here she was without time to do anything. Trying to take off her pants and still keep rocketing around the room led to Beckett staring up at her ceiling from the floor, pants tangled around her ankles. With a loud groan of frustration she pulled them off and wrenched open her closet. She didn't know what to wear.
6:53.
She didn't have time to squander, so she pulled free the closest little black dress she saw, deemed it good enough and slipped it on. Ah, not a bad choice, she thought as she tugged at the hem to make sure it was in place. Castle likes lace. She grabbed a shrug to cover her bare arms if it got cold, then slipped into the bathroom. She pulled the clip out of her hair from where it had been pulled back all day. It bounced down around her shoulders in gentle waves; not as fancy as she would have liked to do, but good enough. She brushed her teeth, dabbed on a little lipstick, a little dark eye shadow and mascara, and was slipping in some dangly earrings with slightly trembling hands when there was a knock at the door.
6:57.
Damn that man and his punctuality. She spritzed some perfume on and took a step back to regard her image in the mirror. Not bad, considering. Now that she was ready, she allowed herself a moment to grin in anticipation, giggling at the way her reflection looked so absolutely smitten. Grabbing a favorite pair of heels, she walked barefoot to the door, and took a deep breath. Beckett closed her eyes for a second to quell the nervous anticipation growing in her belly. It's just Castle. Just Castle. She chuckled. Right.
She swung the door open with flourish, and her breath caught somewhere between her diaphragm and her throat. Castle was grinning down at her, freshly laundered, his hair slicked back, and a bouquet of mixed roses in his hands. "Hey, Castle," she said breathlessly. "Come in."
He did, brushing closely past her to stand in her foyer. "These are for you." When she took the flowers from him Beckett felt a surprising flush in her cheeks. Castle had a way of disarming her without even trying. She smiled shy thanks at him, and found a vase, sniffing deeply from the flowers after she arranged them.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Pretty."
"I agree," Castle said, waggling his eyebrows at her suggestively until she laughed. He stepped close to her and touched her chin lightly to tilt her head up. Beckett sometimes forgot what a tall man Castle was-she'd been wearing progressively taller heels since she'd met him to counteract his height-and the feeling of him towering over her was oddly enticing. When he kissed her it was soft and slow but purposeful, and Beckett could feel her heartbeat fluttering in her throat. He pulled away slowly, with dark eyes and a warm hand trailing across her exposed collarbone and down her arm.
"You look beautiful, Kate."
Simple words, and hardly the first time a man had said them to her, but she felt herself responding. On the one hand, Yes, please, Castle, tell me nice things all night. But Castle managing to make her melt before they'd even left her apartment meant she was going to have to work really, really hard to come out on top tonight.
Because of course she had a plan. And that plan involved putting him off for another night-but not for too much longer, because seriously I want him- and it only worked if she was actually able to control her own desires tonight.
So she took a deep breath and stepped away, creating just enough space between them to regain control of herself. She grinned at him, holding on to his shoulder to slip on her heels, and said, "You're not so bad yourself, Castle."
He tilted his head at her, eyes crinkling in pride and affection, and offered his arm. "Shall we?"
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They were nestled together in a small wrap around booth, their meal finished, sharing the last glass of wine from their second bottle. It was dark, the lights of the room centered on the jazz band on stage, and the low vocals of the singer were mingling with the alcohol and Castle's cologne and Beckett couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so happy. Or the last time she had felt so thoroughly seduced.
The night had been a blur of shared shellfish and wine and music, the seductive heat of brushing lips and fingertips and thighs pressed together, and a building arousal. And when they had danced, sometime near the end of the first bottle of wine, Castle had kept a hand pressed low, low on her back to keep her close while his other hand roamed from her hair to her cheek to indecently close to the swell of her breast and he whispered about how he thought they moved well together until she shivered in his arms.
When they had drifted back to their table there had been fresh strawberries and chocolate and the undisguised heat in his eyes when he brushed one of the berries against her lips and she took a bite, catching his wrist and flicked her tongue at the juice on his fingers before he pulled away. The strawberries were gone now, and Beckett's head was resting near Castle's collarbone, one of his arms wrapped around her shoulders, his fingertips occasionally brushing against the heated skin of her arm. His other hand was snug between her knees, playing with the roughness of the lace edging of her dress and the smooth expanse of thigh she was allowing him to touch.
She sighed his name when his fingers inched under her dress, clamped a hand over the top of his to stop his progression and re-crossed her legs. He chuckled into her hair. "Problem, Detective?"
"Mmm-hmm. Just this guy I know, getting handsy."
"It's ok, you know. If he's a writer. They have great hands."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. It's proven fact."
She just hummed then, relaxing more into his side and catching his wandering hand by entangling their fingers. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady sound of his breathing and the music. She was mapping the ridges of his hand with the pad of her thumb and feeling herself go almost drowsy with latent arousal and contentment when he skimmed his fingers back up her arm.
"You're not falling asleep, are you?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement.
She grinned and sat back a little, biting her lip. "No, just enjoying this. Enjoying you."
He beamed, a big broad smile that he didn't usually use, and Beckett felt her own smile growing in response. It took so little to make this man happy.
"Well, if you think you're ready, we can move on to phase two."
Beckett sat back further, lifting an eyebrow. "Really? There's more?"
"Of course," he said, like it was obvious and he was a little offended she could possibly think otherwise.
When he led her outside he stopped at the curb and looked first left, than right. He checked his watch, wrapped an arm around her waist to help ward off the chill of the evening, and looked around again. Curious, Beckett found herself standing on tip-toe to look as well, stretching to see over and around the Friday night rush of New Yorkers even though she didn't know what she was looking for. Finally, curiosity got the better of her. "Castle, are we going to just stand here and freeze for the rest of the evening?"
Instead of getting an answer, she saw his face light up when he finally saw whatever it was he was looking for. His extra height allowed him a better view than her, but before long she could hear the tell-tale clip clop of hooves approaching.
"Castle, you didn't."
But he had. Before long a horse-drawn carriage pulled up to a stop in front of them and the very dapper looking driver hopped down to help them up. Her face betraying her delight, Beckett settled in next to Castle, gladly sinking into his warmth and letting him drape a blanket over their legs. Before taking off, the driver turned and offered them two visibly steaming cardboard cups.
"Vanilla latte for the lady," he said, handing them back, "and a regular for the gentleman."
While Kate warmed her fingers against the cup her lips twisted into a strange smile. Castle looked over at her and his own lips quirked in questioning amusement.
"Everything ok?"
"Yeah, Castle." She leaned over and brushed her lips against his, glad for the extra privacy afforded them by the recessed seating of the carriage. When she started to pull away he moved with her, kissing her again. And one more time after that, with his tongue delving briefly into her mouth and sparking a sharp, sudden surge of arousal in her. Beckett had to fight the urge to moan against his lips when he stroked his tongue against the roof of her mouth. She settled for clutching at the lapels of his jacket and pressing herself against him from hip to chest.
He let her go when she drew away again, their heavy breath steaming out into the air around them. "Yeah, Castle," she continued between breaths, "everything is great."
Once the carriage ride was under way, Castle took it upon himself to be their impromptu tour guide, telling personal tales of the kind of trouble he'd gotten into at each passing landmark. A particularly funny story about the time that he'd been kicked out of an eclectic gay bar in the Village, shirtless, had them both in fits of laughter, clutching at each other and sloshing their coffee dangerously. This led to a whispered game of "brothers or lovers" which in turn led to Castle spinning tales about every group of people the passed, some of whom became mobsters and criminals and some who were foreign dignitaries gone incognito for the evening so they could let loose on the town and rekindle old flames.
Beckett was just finishing off the last of her coffee when she began to recognize the familiar face of her own neighborhood around them. She felt a rush of a strange nostalgia for the night because, even though they were still in it, the end was fast approaching. Castle heard her sigh and he must have understood because he asked, "Do you want to walk the last couple of blocks?"
So the driver pulled over and they disembarked, taking a moment to say goodbye to the horses. Before pulling away from the curb the driver handed Beckett a small white envelope. Surprised, she turned to look at Castle but he just shrugged in feigned ignorance.
"Open it," he said.
Tilting her head at him suspiciously, she broke the seal and opened the envelope. At first, she thought it was empty, but she ran a finger inside and felt the stick of a curled edge of paper. When she pulled on it, she was rewarded with a post-it note, folded in half. She shot him an eye-crinkling grin and flipped it open.
Alone at last
Kiss me, Kate
She looked at him in amusement, lips pursed, shaking her head minutely.
"What's it say?"
She rolled her eyes at that, but stepped closer to him and ran her hands down his chest, tracing the lines of his suit jacket. "It was instructions," she commented dryly.
Castle smirked, so amused that she was playing along, but his eyes shone with a more sincere anticipation. He caught her wandering hands and pulled her snugly against him. He bent his head down until their noses were brushing and wrapped one arm slowly around her. "Kiss me, Kate," he murmured, and she couldn't help but comply, simply tilting her head up until their lips met.
But though the evening had been filled with a building anticipation, their kiss was still slow; more chaste even than the ones they'd shared in the carriage. She took her time, pulling at his lips with her own and tasting the edge of stubble on his lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Everything was light and loose and warm and delicious. Castle's hands found their way into her hair but he didn't move to hold her still or deepen the kiss, he simply caressed her and tugged gently. She sighed and kissed him again, just the press of her lips, and then again on the very corner of his mouth.
When she pulled away she held out her hand for him to take, which he did, and they began the short walk to her building. They covered the distance in short order, quietly, shoulders brushing. As they approached, Beckett realized that her desire to play with him or to win some unspoken game was taking a back seat to her simple desire for him. They paused together at the door, a moment of awkwardness passed between them, and then they both spoke at once.
"Can I come up?"
"Want to come up?"
They laughed together, a little shy and a little nervous but ready. So ready. So she squeezed his hand in hers, meeting his eyes intensely, and led him to the elevator. They stood in silence, both smiling, hands linked, until the doors closed around them, and then it was like whatever cord restraining Castle had been cut loose. He turned her with firm hands on her shoulders and then he was kissing her, using his body to walk her back until she was pressed against the wall. His mouth was insistent over hers, pressing and licking and sucking until he nipped on her bottom lip and her body jerked in his arms.
He groaned and slid his hands to her hips to drag her into him again, allowing her to finally feel how much she was affecting him. She let out a sound that was something like a whimper at that, completely swamped with emotion and arousal.
This is Castle, This is Castle, This is Castle.
Neither of them noticed the ding of the elevator at her floor, but luckily when the doors slid open there was no one on the other side to see how Castle had her pressed into the wall and her leg wrapped around his hip. He released her leg but didn't let go of her completely, following closely behind her and dragging his mouth from her ear to her shoulder as they stumbled down the hall. She moaned in response, reaching behind her to slid her fingers through his hair and hold him to her so he could do that again. At her door, he interrupted her search for her keys to kiss her deeply again, hands lightly palming her face, bodies pressed closely together.
"I can't believe we're finally doing this," he murmured, his hands sliding up her thighs to shimmy her skirt a little higher so he could slip one leg between hers. She gasped and rocked against him.
"Your fault we haven't done this sooner."
Castle laughed, and nodded. "Yeah. True."
"You were messing with me," she managed to say between breaths. "This week."
"Yeah."
The part of Beckett that had been so frustrated by his rejections woke a little at his smug tone. She pulled her mouth away from his but couldn't help from pressing small kisses to his jaw before asking, "Was it fun?"
In true Castle fashion, he answered without thinking it through. "So fun. Best game ever." She could tell the minute he realized that he might not be helping himself out here from the way he stiffened but held more firmly to her hips, like he could keep her there if he just held on hard enough.
"So much fun, hmm? At my expense?" She asked dryly, pushing him away with a shove from both hands on his chest. He allowed himself to be pushed back a step, but no further. She worked very hard to keep her face stern, to hide her rising mirth as she sensed the turning of the tables between them.
"But stupid," he clarified with wide eyes. "I mean, so stupid." He held out his hands in a gesture of this much stupid and tried to step closer to her again. She stopped him with a glare.
Then her gaze softened, and she stepped in to kiss him briefly on the lips before stepping back and patting his chest with one hand. "Don't worry, Castle." She was finally succeeded in fishing her keys out of her bag and gave him one of her looks. One of those looks. "You just prevented me from breaking my own moral code."
"I did?"
"Yes."
"Uh..." Castle looked completely undone. "What code?"
"Never, ever sleep with a guy on the first date."
With that, she pecked him on the cheek once more, murmured thanks for a wonderful evening, and slid into her apartment. "Goodnight, Rick," she said, laughing at him as she closed the door on his gaping face. Unable to help herself, she looked through the peephole after she locked the door, getting a fish-eye view of Castle pressing the fingertips of each hand into his face, contorting his cheeks until his mouth formed a tiny "o" of disbelief.
She laughed and stepped back, raising one fist in victory, before falling to her couch. She was bubbling with the giddy after effects of her date and a new kind of mirth. She ran a hand through her tousled hair, and shook her head. The look on his face, that made it worth it. At least for this one night. Sexually frustrated? Hell, yes. Winner of this round? Hell, yes.
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A/N: Sorry for the wait, but at least this one is kinda long, right? :) Thanks very much for fav/follows/reviews. I'm always surprised by how happy they make me. Also sorry for errors/typos/weird sentences, I swear, I never see them all until after I hit send. Usually RIGHT after.