"I will not be calling you Diamond, when I worship your body. . . I refuse to call you anything but your given name," his thumb swipes greedily along her lower lip, "when I make you come."
God, this man and his words. He has me all tangled up inside, - hot and horny and . . .
"You're a very dangerous man," she whispers, trying hard to disguise how he's affecting her. "And right now, I can't afford more danger in my life."
"I'm not dangerous, just determined. . . Determined to have you be a part of my life."
Her breathing's stilted and her heart's thundering like she's being chased by a serial killer and she's about to lose herself in those eyes as blue as the Pacific Ocean and as deep as the Grand Canyon.
"At times, there's a very fine line between 'determined' and 'dangerous' and you definitely fall into the later category. . . You're dangerous to any woman who has a pulse."
"It's nice to know you're not unaffected by me. . . I was starting to worry."
"You worry, Mister Castle?" and her laughter dispels the cloud of tension surrounding them. "When have you ever worried about a woman being immune to your charms?"
"Not ever. . . Until now."
"Okay folks," Dave's voice filters through the intercom. "It's a good thing we're headed back to the airport because I've just been advised of a summer storm warning. We're about five minutes away from the hangar. Make sure your seat belts are taut."
Rick immediately reaches for her belt, securing it, eyes lingering on the knot of her trench coat; fingers itching to unwrap it and sneak a peek beneath. "Let's make sure you're safe because I certainly don't want anything dangerous happening to you," he teases.
"It's already too late for that."
A gust of wind sweeps beneath the chopper and it sways unnaturally, causing her stomach to leap to her throat.
"Oh my God," and her hand clasps Rick's deathly tight as she closes her eyes, taking deep breaths.
"Listen to my voice," he soothes. "It's just a bit of turbulence. We're going to arrive safely on the ground in a couple of minutes."
She nods her head up and down, signifying she's heard him, but the rosy hue in her cheeks has vanished, replaced by an ashen pallor. Her neck drops back onto the back of the seat and a squeak of fright escapes her lips as the chopper suddenly drops.
He cradles her head and places it on his shoulder, whispering words of comfort into her hair.
"Sorry about the turbulence, Mister Castle. I'm shocked by how quickly the storm hit us."
"Not a problem, Dave. Just land us safely, please."
The rain drops start spattering the windshield and Kate hears the exact moment the clouds open up and pour out their fury.
Large, clear drops, like Heaven's tears, cascade down the tinted windows and blur her vision of the city.
Her head is cocooned on his shoulder; her left hand clinging to his polo shirt, bunching up the fabric while her right hand is intertwined with his. She feels his muscular chest beneath her fingertips, can practically hear his strong heartbeat as his addicting, manly smell wafts around her.
The lost young woman in her can't help but notice how good this feels, just to lean on a man, depend on him, allow him to take care of her.
She gets the impression Rick would be extremely doting and attentive in a relationship, unselfish to a fault, putting her needs above his own, making sure her happiness was foremost in his mind, but, the devil on her shoulder whispers, "All that will change as soon as he comprehends just how damaged you truly are."
The strong, independent woman, the one who's never had to rely on a man for anything before tells her to stop this before it spirals out of control, because fairy tales certainly don't exist and in her reality, dreams don't come true.
She's already fallen too fast, too hard, too deep, and her heart wouldn't survive losing him, - wouldn't survive having this amazing man in her life to only be tossed away when the going got tough, when he couldn't deal any longer with her traumatic past or the pains of the present.
As soon as the chopper lands, she uncurls herself from him and unlocks the seat belt, needing to put as much space between herself and his gorgeous physique as possible.
"You should've mentioned flying sometimes makes you squeamish," he teases. "It's a good thing to know about you so next time, I'll be prepared."
"There won't be a 'next time'."
Even if the chill of the rain hadn't been seeping through the helicopter door, Rick would've felt the chill in the air from her tone.
Dave opens the sliding door and before he can unsnap his own belt, she's stepping past him and is out the chopper, the wind whipping her hair across her face, sorrow filling those unforgettable eyes.
Damn, something's seriously wrong.
He frantically tries to recall their conversation, but nothing immediately jumps out at him; he can't pinpoint the moment things changed.
Had he accidentally offended her? Had he been too confidant, too eager, too demanding?
He puts a $50 bill into Dave's hand and thanks him for the tour but when he turns back to Diamond, she's already ten feet ahead of him, walking towards the limo.
Wind barrels by her and that sexy maroon trench coat blows off her legs revealing an itty bitty black dress.
He would have thoroughly loved seeing her in it, can imagine the way it swoops low over her breasts, molding her lithe frame, accentuating her womanly curves.
He curls his fists in frustration as by the stiffness of her shoulders and her, I-can't-get-away-from-you-fast-enough step, nothing more is going to happen between them tonight.
What in the world happened?
A simmering anger starts building in his chest but he tamps it down, trying to calm himself, as he needs some answers from the beautiful minx before jumping to any conclusions.
"Diamond," he calls, the rain drops cooling his heated flesh as he goes after her.
She leans back against the rear limo door, face up into the sky, and he watches in fascination as a single drop hits her jaw and glides down the elegant slope of her neck, trickling along her breastbone beneath the coat.
Fuck, how is she even more alluring while wet, tendrils of hair sticking to her face, a smudge of mascara brushed beneath her eye? The rain makes her eyes look more brown than green, murky pools of emotion he wishes he could decipher.
He visualizes closing her eyelids and placing his lips there, kissing away whatever's ailing her, but he restrains himself from acting on the impulse.
"Castle, I'm sorry, but this, - " her index finger wags between them, "Us. . . It's not going to happen. We will never work."
His heart seizes at her words, feels like it's trapped in a compactor, slowly being squeezed to death. He tries to keep the devastation out of his voice as he replies, "How do you know if you're not willing to give us a chance?"
"I'm going to save us both a lot of wasted time and effort by ending this before it's even begun."
"What the hell are you so afraid of?" He moves towards her, eyes glazed and black, simmering with arousal. "Are you afraid I might actually start melting the ice crystals surrounding your heart? Afraid I'll make an indelible impression on your life? Afraid I'm the one man who can dig under that wall of yours and crawl my way to you? Afraid that once you have me, you'll never want to let me go?"
"You're an arrogant jackass," she fumes, eyes sparking with fear that he's able to read her like an open book. "I know your type and you'll never be able to understand why I chose to be an Escort. It's my choice, and contrary to popular belief, no one forced me into this life. No man will ever be able to understand and get past what I do for a living. And you, Mister-God's-Gift-to-Women, are no exception."
"Don't lump me in with the rest of the bastards you sleep with." He steps closer to her, all male bulk crowding her against the limo. "I happen to be secure enough in my manhood, in who I am, not to let your job be my Achilles heel. It will not be our downfall."
He takes a frustrated breath before continuing, holding her turbulent gaze, "Will it bother me at times? Of course, I'm human, but would it stop me from seeing you again, be the catalyst in walking away from you? Never. I can honestly say, unequivocally, No. You being an Escort won't make or break us."
He lifts the back of his hand and grazes it across the beauty mole on her left cheek. "Only you have that type of power."
Her eyes dash away from him, and he wonders if the liquid sliding down her cheek bone happens to be a tear or a raindrop.
"I know you feel this unbelievable chemistry between us," he continues boldly. "What we have is extremely rare, possibly happens only once in a lifetime, and I can't let you go without exploring this, - exploring how extraordinary we could be together. Please, - " and he leans in, lips skating over her Marilyn Monroe mole before he husks in her ear, "don't throw away potentially the greatest relationship we could both have in our lifetimes."
He sees the softening in her eyes, the way her shoulders droop, and his cock tightens as her mouth falls open seductively.
"You don't get it, Rick," she says dejectedly. "There's no happily-ever-after for me. You were right about my tragic past. My life's fucked up right now, - has been for the past twelve years. I've got too much baggage to ever be complete again and I won't expose myself to the possibility of more pain."
"Exposing yourself can also bring about incredible joy and happiness, let alone peace. . . Let me in, Diamond. I want to be the one guy who makes a difference in your life. . . I can be," and his voice lowers in a lover's caress as his eyes burn into hers, "the one man who makes you whole once more."
"No. It's over. I'll ask Ryan to refund your money as I'm cutting the date short. Please tell your driver to take me home."
Anger combined with arousal can be a deadly combination.
It roils through his bloodstream and pummels through his brain, making him half-crazed and it brings out the dark side in him, makes him want to punish her for the long, lonely nights he'll suffer for many years to come.
"It was never about the God-damn money. Ryan can keep it for all I care. It was only ever about you. How do you not know that by now?"
"I'm not worth it. You're better off without me in the long run."
"So this is it, huh?" he grates. "You get to make the final decision which affects both of our lives?"
"I'm sorry," she whispers and then she's fuckin nibbling on that lower lip and he just loses it.
L-O-S-E-S it.
"'Sorry' just don't cut it, babe. I'm going to give you a taste of what you'll be missing," and his eyes signify his intent just before his lips slam onto hers, - harsh, grueling, violent in their intensity.
His hand clasps onto the back of her neck, pulling her towards him where their bodies mesh perfectly, - soft curves and luscious femininity pressed against his hard planes.
She tastes like tears and rain and a heavenly dessert he'll never be able to sample again.
He growls into her mouth as his tongue slips between the seam of her lips, searching for hers.
He wants her to never forget this moment, never forget him, as his tongue battles with hers, tangling and sparring in time with his frantic pulse.
A hint of vanilla latte consumes him as he owns the kiss, not letting her breathe except through him.
His left hand seeks the hem of her coat and his fingers trickle over the fabric before delving beneath, finally finding and touching smooth, sleek skin.
She jumps at his touch, - then moans, - something dirty and delicious which has him pressing her back into the frame of the limo, his pants bursting at the seams.
Her arms snake round his neck at the same moment his fingers dig into her thigh, dragging up the taut muscle until he finds the silk of the little black dress. He palms the fabric, wishing they were in another time, another place, where she would have the courage to give them a chance.
Damn her.
He wishes he was more of a scoundrel, the devil Lothario the tabloids portray him to be, as then he'd have the courage to tear the trench coat from her body, see what lies beneath and take her filthily against the side of the car.
Damn himself for falling for someone he could never have in the first place.
He rips away from her, dragging his eyes away from her kiss swollen lips, unable to bear the vision of her wet as a mermaid and tempting as a siren, - looking as if she longs for a fuck-session with him.
He opens the front door of the limo forcefully, tells Brandon to take Diamond wherever she wants to go and then strolls away, heading inside the hangar.
He doesn't look back, not even a quick peek to see if she gets in the vehicle, just walks away from her, hoping he can forget her taste, her cherry scent which lingers in his memory, and those legs which would make any man drool.
He hopes he can forget her mesmerizing eyes and the sultry voice he knows will fuel his wet dreams for countless nights to come.
He hopes, by the end of the year, he can forget the woman who's an expert at chewing men up and spitting them out, - but he's afraid, it just might be an eternity.