A:N: The rating changed a bit ^^ This story was supposed to have only three chapters, but instead I decided to cut the last one in two so I could update soon enough. There will therefore be four chapters (not sure how much higher the rating will go...)

CHAPTER 3

The yellow cab stopped in front of his apartment building a good half hour later.

As Castle shot the back door closed, he noticed a silhouette on the pavement observing him and he uncomfortably turned his head to check who was watching him.

His heart-rate had picked up slightly from the anxiety, but when he recognized the figure waiting for him on his front steps it actually skipped a few beats.

Kate was standing there, leaning against her flaming red Ducati, arms crossed. She was still wearing a pair of black boots but over a new pair of navy blue jeans. Her hair was lose and fell graciously around her face to rest on the shoulders of her aviator leather jacket. As his eyes finished roaming over her body in undisguised appreciation they landed on her lips which where crooked into what looked like an amused smile and when he met his eyes, he saw one of her eyebrows raised in question and realized she was indeed smiling at his shameless staring.

"Beckett" he managed to get out despite the surprise of seeing her there and the sudden dryness in his mouth.

"Hey Castle" she replied while standing up.

"How err-" he cleared his throat and tried it once more "How are you?"

"I'm okay" came her reply as she replaced some of her hair behind her ear.

At that moment, he would have liked nothing more than to reach out and do that for her. He refrained of course and took a couple more steps toward her, closing the distance between them.

"You sure? You seemed to have taken a big hit" he insisted, pointing to the bruise that she'd just revealed on her forehead.

"I'm alright Castle" she snapped. Her injuries, failures and mistakes were always a touchy subject. "But thank you for your concern." She added upon seeing his rejected face "It's... sweet."

He waited in silence a moment, unsure of what to say or what to do. He hadn't expected a visit from her at all. He offered a smile, pretty much the only 'safe' thing he could think of and was reassured when she returned it, double fold.

"Come on Castle"

She grabbed a helmet on her bike and that's when he noticed there were two of them. She tossed it to him before grabbing the other one.

"I want to take you somewhere."

His eyes grew wide open, along with his mouth in both surprise and apprehension.

"On... that?"

Beckett straddled her bike and turned her head toward Castle, a wicked smile on her face.

"What's the matter Ricky, you scared?"

At that exact moment, seeing Kate in that position, he wasn't so much scared as mesmerized. There was something extremely sensual about the way she sat on her bike, leaning forward, her hair falling on one side, her eyes twinkling in mischief. There was something about the Kate Beckett he was seeing that fascinated him.

"Well, are you?" she taunted.

"Me? Scared?"

He took one more second to mentally snap a picture of this image before walking to the bike.

"Bring it" he dared bravely.

With unsure movements he positioned himself behind her, settling his feet on the footrests on each side of the bike and his hands behind him.

Beckett smiled and turned her head to him.

"If you don't want to fly off the bike in a heartbeat I'd suggest holding on tighter than that."

She grabbed one of his arms and put it around her body.

"I won't bite."

With an amused smile she put her helmet on as Castle did the same and placed both his hands on her hips.

When the bike lurched forward, his shyness was overcome but his fear and he held on tighter to her waist, gripping the sides of her jacket. He leaned forward, following her movement, almost - but not quite daring - pressing his chest against her back.

He let his body relax as they drove through the city, enjoying the new sensations – not necessarily all bike-induced...

As they left New-York city and he started to relax, she felt his chest press against her back and she smiled. This was right, she decided. Having his body against hers, his arms around her it was definitely right. It had to be. Something couldn't feel so good and be wrong.
They reached the open road and she switched to a higher gear. There was that feeling again of utter freedom and... something else. On her bike, in his arms she felt serene, safe and happy.

His heart-rate – for the nth time that evening – peaked as the bike gained speed on the deserted roads of the New-York area at two in the morning. He'd let his body relax onto hers during the ride and, using the newly gained speed as his mental excuse, he hugged her waist completely with his arms, pulling himself ever closer to her body. He felt her stomach contract as she surely held her breath for a few moments. He considered pulling back but he felt her body relax once more and maybe even get closer to his. He smiled.

She hadn't realized just how much she craved his touch until his arms completely circled her waist and she found herself wishing she wasn't wearing such a thick jacket.
She wasn't sure but she felt as though her partner's body had tensed a bit since he'd gotten closer. Was he afraid of her? Of what she'd do to him? Was she really that scary? Letting go of one of the handles she pressed her hand on one of his, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before grabbing the handle again.

It was okay. He was allowed to hold her like this. She liked it.
That's the message he got.
He wasn't sure why but tonight Kate seemed willing to close the distance that had been slowly driving them apart over the past month. Less than an hour ago, he was about to give up on the most precious thing life had brought his way. This time, he wouldn't let go, he wouldn't back down. Feeling embolden with his new resolution he let his right hand creep its way under the leather jacket and the top she was wearing, finding warmth under the fabric and over her skin.

The second his fingertips touched her skin she knew they needed to get off the bike before they had an accident.
His cold hand came to rest on her side and she took a sharp breath, contracting her abdomen. The goose bumps that ran through her body were either from the cold or from his touch. She wasn't sure. She didn't care.
She did care however that somehow he had gotten her message. That she had started something she couldn't stop anymore; there was no going back this time. Not that she wanted to. She was scared as hell, most definitely, but this time, she wouldn't let go, she wouldn't back down.

A few minutes later she took the bike off the parkway and into Pelham Bay.

She wasn't sure what had gotten into him or in fact what had gotten into her for letting him, but she was glad to be on a smaller road, going a lot slower when Castle's left hand slid down over the fabric of her jeans and up her thigh again.
Using her many years of police training she tried very hard to stay focused on the road, ignoring this foreign and yet familiar hand on her body.

Maybe he had a death wish. After all, he knew very well that if at any moment he crossed a line for her she'd be more than able to kill him and get rid of his body without leaving any evidence behind.
But if he were to die, he'd die knowing that he hadn't wasted his chance for the nth time. And so long as she didn't break his fingers, he sure as hell wasn't going to stop.

His left hand trailed along her thigh, caressing it up and down over her jeans while his right hand moved, ever so slowly further up onto her abdomen. He liked the warmth he found there, he liked the way her abdomen contracted every time he moved a finger, the way her stomach moved to the rhythm of her breath.

She drove them all the way to Pelham beach and stopped the bike on the curb. The place was completely deserted – as one would expect on a Wednesday night at three in the morning. She turned the ignition off but neither one of them moved. The sound of the roaring bike quickly disappeared and left only that of the waves gently washing on the nearby beach.

Suddenly the reality of their situation hit him and his hands froze on their spot. Her lack of movement, the silence surrounding them was all too worrying and he considered his options for a moment.

But before he could decide between staying frozen to the spot or running for his life, she moved and took her helmet off, releasing her long wavy hair in front of him. She placed the helmet on the handles and left her hands there. Castle decided to do the same, although it meant releasing the hold he had on her waist and relinquishing the warm spot on her abdomen. He took his helmet off and, for lack of a better place, bent on the side to drop it, as gently as possible, on the ground. When he sat back up, she still hadn't moved and he decided best to keep his hands for himself this time.

And he waited. For a sign. For his death sentence. Anything.

No sooner had his hands left her body that she missed them.
That contact, she realized, that connection, she needed it. She needed him. And the realization of this longing, this yearning was enough to make her overcome the fear that had washed over her the second she'd stopped the engine.

So when he sat back up and didn't put his arms around her again, she let her body take control over her mind and reached behind for his hands. Grabbing them firmly, she wrapped them around her waist and kept him there, her own hands atop his.
She felt him tighten his hold and pressed her back into his body, desperately trying to feel him through the layers of clothes separating them.

Their fingers intertwined as they had a few hours before ever so briefly.

He tried to think of something to say but words escaped him.

She let her head slightly fall back to rest on his shoulder and he inhaled the sweet scent of her, closing his eyes and losing himself in the moment.

How many times had he closed his eyes, his fingers on the keyboard, ready to type, trying to imagine what Kate Beckett felt like, smelt like; trying to imagine what it would be like to hold her in his arms, to touch her, to kiss her and taste her skin? How many times?

And yet, as their hands played together, her hair tickled his face, her perfume engulfed him and her body sunk into his, it was clear that his imagination had done no justice to what it really felt like to be with her.

"Kate?" he heard his voice whisper.

She tilted her head to him with a "hmm" as though he had woken her from her reverie.

Their faces were inches apart, her green eyes looking up into his deep blue, her breath blending with his in rapid successions.
He felt her grip on his hands tighten.
They were so close, so close he could almost taste her. So close he wasn't sure if the frenzied heart beat was his or hers. He tried to think of the words to say after "Kate" and wondered why he'd even called her name in the first place.

But before he could think of anything, he felt her warm lips onto his.

He was like a magnet. An undeniable attraction that couldn't be denied anymore.
His face was so close to hers, his blue eyes looking right back at her, piercing through her soul, his lips tempting her, enticing her, calling her name.

She hadn't meant to kiss him. But the attraction, the memory of the kisses they'd shared in the past had brought her lips onto his against her will.
But once she felt his warmth, once their lips parted and tasted the sweetness of the other, there was no going back. She slid her hand in his hair, bringing his face ever closer to hers. The kiss quickly deepened, their lips moving to a rhythm they had quickly learnt. And then something new happened.

Her kisses were intoxicating, they were addictive, they were... life. And he needed more of it.

His tongue reached out and teased her lips. The hand on the back of his head clutched his hair and he took that as his welcome sign.

Their tongues, met, tasted and battled for the first time.

In the midst of all the sensations assailing his body, he was most aware of her two hands, one on his neck, keeping him in place, the other on his hand guiding him under her jacket and her top, pressing him onto her stomach, as if she wanted him closer and closer still until there was no space between them anymore.

They broke away together, in need for air.
They stayed inches away from each other, mouths agape, with bated breaths, and dilated pupils betraying both their wants.
They held each other's gazes, finding reassurance in the other's loving look.

Their chests moved heavily up and down to the rhythm of their calming breaths.
Their hands stayed still on the other's body.

A few waves crashed on the beach in front of them.

He licked his lips.
She moved her fingers in his hair.
Their mouths crashed onto one another.

Years of frustration, of yearning, of wanting, of needing poured into their kiss.

Their joined hands danced on her abdomen.

They let passion take over; their bodies blending together and moving together. The night was warm enough, but the heat radiating from their bodies and surrounding them had nothing to do with the number on the thermometer.

When the need for air became too strong again, they broke apart unwillingly.

"Oh geez... Castle..."

"I..."

"We can't..."

"We shouldn't..."

They stayed still in their embrace, only their chests moving up and down. They let their cardiac and breathing rhythms go back to normal and they exchanged heartfelt smiles.

"We should probably..."

"... Get off the bike."

Neither moved and both smiled.

"Now would be a good time."

"Right."

And yet neither moved.