All the usual disclaimers apply: I don't own Castle, never will, and certainly have no chance of ever profiting from it.
A/N: I won't be including a title because it's contained within the story.
When the storm soaks them both, she offers him a place to dry off. Inertia takes over, and she offers him her bed, too.
After her first bath at his place, she's a convert. His tub is big enough to share.
The bikini she brings to the Hamptons is flimsy. He accidentally tears it; she shrugs and swims topless.
Every time she does the ice cube trick, he winds up sleeping on the wet spot. It's totally worth it.
Rivulets trickle down between her shoulder blades. He covers one with his mouth and her gasp echoes off of the tile.
If you didn't catch today's theme, glance along the left margin, specifically at the first letter of each paragraph.