JUST ON THE SURFACE
CHAPTER SIX
Kate rushes into the bathroom, locking it with an emphatic flick of her wrist. She presses her forehead to the cold door and takes several deep breaths, willing her pounding heart to go back to normal.
What the hell is he doing here?
It's bad enough that she has to work with the FBI. She's had to a few times over her career, and it always ends with her doing all the work and them taking credit.
But her ex showing up and personally requesting her assistance? It's a recipe for disaster.
He claims that he's okay with the arrangement with Castle - fake dating and all, although he doesn't know that the relationship is fake - but he and Castle have been glaring at each other, already sizing each other up for the inevitable pissing contest.
There's not a painkiller in the world that will help the migraine this case is going to give her.
A loud honk from outside startles her, and she runs her fingers through her hair, takes a deep breath before exiting the bathroom.
Time to go to work.
The two men are hovering in the kitchen, and Castle notices her first, stands up straighter, and puffs his chest out a little. She rolls her eyes at the way Sorensen mirrors the pose, but she doesn't acknowledge it, just leans against the far counter and grabs the case file to occupy her hands.
Judging by the way they both study her, she interrupted something. Probably talking about her.
God, why the hell is Will here, anyway? The last she saw him, he was on his way to Boston, not even looking back as he left her behind for his career.
Not that she blames him; she probably would have done the same thing. But even that knowledge doesn't make it hurt less that he's back in New York and didn't even bother to call.
She sighs and opens the file.
"You like him."
Will's statement makes her pause, makes her think. Yeah, she does like Castle. He's smart, helps with cases more than she'd ever thought he could. And the time she spends with him outside the precinct allows her to see a side of him that he doesn't show the press: the side that memorized her coffee order, that stays late at the precinct just to keep her company while she does paperwork, even when his phone dies and he's so bored he almost falls asleep.
Sure, buying the espresso machine for the precinct wasn't just for their benefit; he drinks almost as much coffee as she does. But still, he didn't need to buy a brand new machine.
And she'd be the first to admit that no guy she's been with has made her feel the way he does. He already knows all her tells, what makes her whimper and moan and gasp his name. And she's learned his, enjoys giving him pleasure just as much as he does.
Yeah. She likes him.
She glances up at Will to notice him staring at her, expecting her answer.
Still, she hesitates. Maybe it's something in Will's eyes, a soft gaze that tells her he hopes they can have another chance. And a few weeks ago, maybe she would have entertained it. But now…
No, she and Castle aren't even in a real relationship. They'll stop their charade when his book comes out. Why not keep her options open?
"Yeah, he's…" She trails off. "I don't know. He's interesting."
Will huffs out a chuckle. "Interesting, huh? Judging by the pictures I've seen of you two, 'interesting' seems like an understatement. You don't kiss someone like that when you just think they're 'interesting.'"
Kate feels her cheeks warm. They have been giving paparazzi a show lately, unintentionally, have gotten caught multiple times making out in the backseat of his cars. They can't help it; they can't keep their hands off each other. She tells herself it's for show, but deep down, she knows it's for pure orgasmic reasons.
"I meant to call."
She snorts.
"No, I'm serious." Will pushes himself off the counter to step in front of her, his intense gaze locked on her. "But I didn't know if you wanted me to."
Kate rolls her eyes. "Give me a break, Will. You didn't need an engraved invitation to tell me you were back in the city." She crosses her arms over her chest. "You made your priorities very clear when you left, and I'm not going to apologize for moving on."
Will takes a step closer. "Have you moved on, though?" he asks in a low voice. "Because I don't think you have. We had something good, Kate."
"That you threw away." Her words come out more breathy than she intends, and she sees the subtle lift of Will's lips before his hands are framing her face. Her breath catches in her throat when his lips touch hers, and a sigh escapes before she can stop it.
"I thought cops and feds hated each other."
Kate jerks away from Will, her cheeks burning as she avoids Castle's eyes. "It's not what-"
"Don't tell me it's not what it looks like," he interrupts her, stepping forward.
Out of the corner of her eye she sees Will move in front of her, his arms crossed and his shoulders square, and she rolls her eyes and nudges him aside. "It's not," she insists, stopping inches from Castle. She presses her palm against his chest and raises her eyes to his, staring him down so he doesn't start something with Will. "We were talking."
Castle lowers his glare to her. "That didn't look like talking."
"Oh for the love-" Kate sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. "Can we talk about this later? We have a missing child to find."
"Sure." His tone tells her that he won't let this go, not even remotely.
Kate pushes her conflict aside when the Candelas receive a ransom demand, focusing only on trying to convince the father that he is the worst choice to make the drop.
"What about me?" Castle pipes up from the corner.
She sighs and closes her eyes. God, she'd hoped he wasn't listening.
Will shakes his head from next to her. "No way."
"Think about it," Castle insists, leaning forward. "I'm not a cop. The dad can't do it. I can."
"As much as I hate to say it," Kate says, turning to Will, "he's right. He's good under pressure, too."
Will lets out a long sigh, then runs his fingers through his short hair and nods. "Fine," he snaps. He stands and motions to one of the other agents, who brings over a mic pack.
Kate follows Castle and the agent into the bedroom, where he unbuttons his shirt. She tries not to stare - it's completely inappropriate, but still, her cheeks warm as his skin appears. The agent quickly gets him ready, and he turns to her as he starts to button his shirt back up.
"Don't look so worried, Detective," he teases, raising a brow. "You said it yourself. I'm good under pressure." He glances over her shoulder and narrows his eyes at whatever he sees.
She's about to ask him when he steps closer to her, cups her face in his hands, and lowers his mouth to hers in an almost exact mirror of Will's kiss earlier.
Where Will's kiss had been gentle, though, Castle's is almost rough, his tongue diving between her lips when she gasps. She knows it's inappropriate - they're in the bedroom of a missing toddler, after all - but when his large hands travel down to her hips and tug her against him, she curls her fingers into the front of his shirt and leans in anyway.
The kiss is over before she fully gets lost in it, the warmth of Castle's embrace gone after just a few hard swipes of his tongue. He smirks when her eyes flutter open, and he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.
"We'll finish this later," he murmurs, his eyes dark, almost black with desire.
When she turns to follow him out of the room, she spots Will just outside the door, staring at the floor, his jaw clenched. Castle must have seen him, and that's why he kissed her the way he did. She should probably be annoyed that he'd use her just to make another man feel jealous.
Her cheeks flush. She's definitely not annoyed. If anything, she's even more keen to solve this case, so she and Castle can continue what they started.
The knock on her door comes minutes after she gets home, and really, the only thing that surprises her is that he didn't drag her home himself.
His mouth is on hers as soon as she opens the door, and she grips the front of his shirt, pushes him as he kicks the door shut behind him. He grunts when his back hits the door, and she responds by sucking his bottom lip into her mouth and pressing her body against his.
He thrusts his hips into hers, his erection thick through their clothes, and she palms him, trails her mouth down his throat when he throws his head back and groans.
She barely notices him grip her arms and spin them before she's trapped against the door, his hips pinning her, his tongue licking a path down her neck. He slides his hands down her sides and cups her ass, and before she knows it she's in his arms, his mouth relentless against her throat, the bulge of his cock pressing into the juncture of her thighs as he walks them through her apartment.
She undoes his pants and shoves her hand under his waistband, curls her fingers around his cock, and he stumbles, grunts against her skin when his knees hit something. Her back knocks something over, and she hears the crash, but she can't bring herself to care what falls. Not when his hands are under her shirt and his teeth are scraping her clavicle.
She buries her fingers in his hair and brings his mouth to hers, swipes her tongue against his bottom lip before delving inside his mouth. His tongue meets hers with equal fervor, and she moans, tightens her legs around his waist to hold herself up even as she continues to seek relief with the frantic roll of her hips.
She's so lost in the work of his hands and tongue that she doesn't realize they've moved again until she's pinned against a wall. His thumbs brush her pebbled nipples and she arches her back, a silent plea for more. He dips his head and covers one fabric-covered breast with his mouth, swirling his tongue, and she gasps, the sensation almost too much even through her clothes.
"Castle," she gasps, her hands holding him to her chest. "More."
He grunts and grips the hem of her sweater, pushing it up just enough to bare her breasts to her cool apartment air. He yanks the cups of her bra down, and his mouth is on her, his teeth tugging at her nipple, the sharp pain sending arousal straight to her core.
She bucks against him, completely lost in the race to the finish line, barely even registers a nearby crash.
She'll figure it out later.
She's close, so close, grinding and writhing, his mouth on her breasts and cock between her legs bringing her up, up, up, but before she falls over the edge she's moving again.
She's dropped onto her bed, her eyes going to the bulge between his legs even as she shoves the duvet aside. He strips in record time, and she licks her lips when his cock is freed, when she notices how hard he is, how swollen already.
Fuck, she needs him.
She makes quick work of her own clothes, and within moments he's sliding into her, not even bothering to let her adjust before he withdraws and slams back in.
It's fast and frantic, his mouth bruising against hers, his fingers digging into her waist as he pistons his hips, the slap of their skin and their moans and grunts of pleasure deafening in the otherwise silent room. Her climax is swift, rushing over her like a wave, and she drags her nails down his stomach as she arches and trembles under him.
He doesn't slow, fucking her through the orgasm, beads of sweat erupting across his chest, his abs clenching with every hard thrust. She digs her heels into his ass, lifting her hips into him, encouraging him, needing more.
With him, one orgasm is never enough.
Luckily for her, he agrees.
He drags one hand down her torso until two fingers press against her clit, and she gasps at his touch, the insistent circle around her sensitive, swollen bud. She won't last, not with his cock thickening inside her, his hoarse warning that he's close, and moments after he buries himself to the hilt and throws his head back with a loud groan, she shatters. Heat unfurls through her, and she doesn't know where she stops and he begins, only that he's pulsing inside her, that she's clenching around him in uncontrolled spasms, drawing out his climax until he lets out a final curse and collapses on top of her.
His fingers draw lazy circles around her clit, aided by the moisture from her release, and when she finally has to shove his hand away he pushes himself off her, lands on the mattress next to her with a loud grunt.
"I don't like seeing you with another man," he says after a minute, his voice low, a rasp to it that has her thighs clenching again.
She manages to turn her head to look at him, her brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"Sorensen." Castle meets her gaze.
"He didn't do anything."
"He kissed you, Kate," he snaps. "He knows you and I are together, and he still made a fucking move."
Kate sits up, ignoring the twinge in her thighs as she does. "But we're not together," she points out. "Sure, he was told that we're actually in a relationship, so he shouldn't have kissed me. But we're not, Rick. This-" She waves her hand between them. "This isn't real."
"It is to me," he snaps. When her jaw just drops, he sits up and mirrors her position. "I'm not faking a damn thing for the cameras, Kate. Not anymore. I know you are, and if you need to pretend so you can keep one foot out the door, go ahead. But as far as I'm concerned, I'm dating you." He leans forward and grips her jaw between his thumb and forefinger. "And that means no kissing - or flirting with - exes."
Kate feels her breath catch in her throat at his firm touch. He's not hurting her - she knows he would never dream of it - but he's definitely making his meaning clear.
"I like you," he continues. "And I respect the hell out of you. So I'm not going to waste your time and pretend that this doesn't mean anything to me." He tugs her bottom lip with his thumb and presses a hard kiss to her mouth.
She leans into the kiss, but before it escalates into more, he moves away. He's leaning against the headboard when she opens her eyes, his hands folded behind his head and a smug look on his face. Despite the cocky smirk, there's something else in his eyes, something she's seen before.
It's soft and tender, and it scares the hell out of her.
She gets off the bed, pausing for a moment to steady her legs under her, and steps towards the bathroom. She needs space before she does something stupid like tell him she's falling for him.
"I need a shower," she tells him, "and you should probably go. It's been a long day. We both need to rest."
His brows lift, but after a moment he nods. "Okay, Beckett. I'll see you tomorrow."
If Castle notices how much she pulls away from him over the next week - that man is more observant than anyone she knows, so he must - he doesn't say anything. He asks her to dinner the day after he admits his feelings, but she turns him down, citing a stubborn migraine.
Instead of sitting in a very public restaurant and grappling with her conflicting feelings in front of the paparazzi, she takes a long bubble bath, then calls someone she didn't think she'd confide in ever again.
"Thanks for seeing me," she says, accepting the wine she's offered. She can't help but notice it's much cheaper than what Castle usually drinks, but - no, she stops herself before her thoughts continue. It isn't fair to compare others to Castle; he's a multi-millionaire who can pull out all the stops whenever he wants to. She needs to stay here, in the real world. It's where she'll land after her charade with Castle is over, after all.
"Of course. To be honest," Will adds, "I was surprised to hear from you. I figured Castle wouldn't be too keen on you visiting an ex."
Kate traces her finger around the rim of her glass, her eyes locked on the burgundy liquid inside. "He doesn't know I'm here," she admits. She isn't surprised to see Will's eyebrows up his forehead when she lifts her gaze. "It's not like that. I'm not sneaking around."
"Okay."
Will doesn't sound convinced, though, and the smirk that tugs at his lips is disconcerting, so she sets her wine down and stands. "Never mind, I should go. This was a mistake."
"No, wait." Will jumps up and grabs her arm, stopping her before she reaches the door. "I didn't mean to suggest that you're here behind his back. You said you wanted to talk." He motions back to the couch. "Let's talk."
She studies him for a long moment, then nods and follows him to sit again. "Why are you here?" she blurts once they're both sitting. "In New York. Why did you come back? And don't give me that line about fresh lobster. You don't even like seafood."
Will's cheeks flush and he takes a long drink of his wine before shifting to face her. "You," he admits. When she just stares at him, he sighs and continues. "I missed you, Kate. As soon as I went to Boston I knew it was a mistake, but I couldn't just come back. So I put in my time, and kept an eye on openings until I could put in for my transfer."
Kate shouldn't be surprised at his answer, but for some reason, she is. He'd been so adamant about moving, the promotion and potential for even more, that she figured he wouldn't even look back. "Will-" she starts, her voice cracking.
Until recently, she would have given anything to hear him say that. They'd ended on very sour terms, with him claiming not to understand why she wouldn't just drop everything to move with him. And she's never regretted her decision to stay. But to hear him admit that he made a mistake…it gives her closure she didn't even know she needed.
She once thought she'd go back to Will if he just asked. But now…
"I know you're with Castle," Will barrels on, "which is still weird, by the way, considering. But if it doesn't work out between you two, I'm here. I still have feelings for you. I'm just sorry it took me leaving to realize that if I have to choose between you and a lucrative promotion, I'll pick you every time."
"I don't," Kate says, a weight lifting from her shoulders as soon as the words are out. "I don't have those feelings for you anymore. Even if Castle and I were to break up tomorrow, I wouldn't come back to you. I've moved on." She leans forward and presses her palm to his cheek. "I've moved on," she repeats, "and so should you."
Will's silent for a long time after she drops her hand. Eventually, he nods and appears to relax. "Okay. Thank you for your honesty."
She smiles and stands, and he follows her to the door. "You're a good man, Will. I'm sure you'll find a woman who deserves you." When they reach the door, she takes his hands and leans forward to brush her lips to his cheek. "See you around."
She didn't expect a wildly passionate or romantic embrace when Castle opened his door. But a surprised, almost panicked look is equally surprising.
He recovers quickly, stepping aside and inviting her in with an outstretched arm. "I didn't think I'd see you today," he admits, leading her into the kitchen. He hurries to the counter, where an older man is stuffing a pile of papers into a manila folder.
Kate pauses; she doesn't get a good look at what's on the papers. But judging by the hurried motions of Castle and his guest, she can only assume it's something she's not supposed to see.
Dread begins to form in the pit of her stomach, but she ignores it. It's probably just something for his book.
"Sorry, I should have called. I didn't realize you had company."
Castle shakes his head. "No, it's fine. This is Dr. Murray. Clarke, this is Detective Beckett."
Kate shakes Dr. Murray's offered hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you. Are you consulting on his book?"
Dr. Murray glances at Castle, then nods. "Yeah. We're just finishing up here. I'll give you a call once I look this over, Rick." He tucks the folder under his arm and follows Castle to the door.
While Castle sees his guest out, Kate helps herself to a beer. When she'd left Will's apartment, she had no destination in mind. All she knew was that she had no desire to go back to him.
But Castle…
Yeah, she wants to see where this can go.
"Sorry about that," Castle says as he reappears. He glances at the beer in her hand and grabs one for himself. "How's your head?"
It takes her a moment to remember the lie she'd told him, and decides to come clean. "I didn't have a migraine," she admits. When Castle raises his brows, she sighs and leans against the counter across from him. "I went to see Will."
He's silent for a long moment, and if it weren't for the clench of his jaw, she'd wonder if he heard her. Eventually, he sets his beer on the counter and tucks his hands in his pockets. "Oh?"
"Yeah. We needed to talk, without a case taking up most of our attention." When Castle gives a slight nod, she takes it as encouragement and continues. "He came back to New York for me. I don't know if he assumed I'd still be pining for him, but he claims that as soon as he left, he realized he made a mistake, and he wanted us to get back together."
She sighs and picks at the label on the beer in her hands. "And I don't know, at one time I would have killed to hear him say that. Figuratively," she adds with a quirk of her lips. "And for a minute, I was flattered. We only dated for a short time, but I fell pretty hard. Told him things I've never told anyone else. I don't open up to just anyone, you know."
Castle's jaw relaxes a fraction. "No kidding."
"I know, what a shock," she teases. She takes a deep breath, suddenly nervous about what she'd realized on her walk over here, about vocalizing it. Because once she says the words, she can't take them back.
They become real.
"But when he told me he wanted another chance, I felt nothing. I don't want him anymore." She sets her beer on the counter behind her and takes a step toward Castle. "I want you."
Castle mirrors her step, and it emboldens her.
"You said that this is real for you, you and me. And I'm here to tell you that I'm willing to give it a shot." When Castle's brows just lift, she reaches out and takes his hands, moves closer to him. "I like you too, Castle," she admits. "So let's do this. Let's date for real."
She barely notices him smile before she's tugged forward, stumbling into the hard planes of his chest. His mouth is on hers before she can even react, and she leans into him, grips the front of his sweater, meets his tongue with hers. He walks her back, his hands at the hem of her shirt. When her back hits the counter she tears her mouth from his, panting, trying to catch her breath.
"Are we alone?" she manages.
He nods, his hooded eyes dark, and she smirks and surges back into him. He grabs her waist and lifts, dropping her on the counter, and before she knows it her shirt and bra are off and his mouth is on her breast.
She gasps, burying her fingers in his hair, holding him to her; although judging by the wicked work of his tongue, he's not going anywhere. His hands splay across her back, and he leans her back, switching his attention to her other breast. Lost in a haze of lust and desire, she reaches her arm out to steady herself on the counter.
Her hand bumps against something, but she doesn't have a chance to wonder what it is before there's a loud clatter and cold liquid spilling on her hand.
Castle jumps back, a curse falling from his lips as he grabs a roll of paper towels.
Kate hops off the counter, quickly uprighting the now-empty beer bottle, and starts to move things off the counter. She grabs a piece of paper, wincing when she realizes it's soaked. Hoping it isn't important, she flips it over to check before throwing it out, and freezes.
"Kate, can you hand me a-oh."
She lifts her gaze to Castle when he trails off, confusion muddling her thoughts. "What is this?" she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper. He opens his mouth to answer, but she barrels on, anger beating out the rest of the emotions swirling through her. "No, I know what it is. Why do you have it?"
"Kate-"
"Why do you have the crime scene photo from my mother's murder?" Her voice cracks on the last word, but she swallows around the lump in her throat, determined not to break down in front of him.
Castle sighs and hangs his head for a moment before meeting her eyes with his. "Because I have the file. A copy," he clarifies. "I wanted to look for myself. To see if-"
"If what? If you could solve it?" She scoffs and clenches her fist, crumpling the picture, ruining it even more. It doesn't matter though; she has every page of that file memorized.
"You really think that you could find something that I missed? Three years, Castle. All I did for three fucking years was study this file. And I'm a cop. Who the hell do you think you are?" She throws the picture on the counter and shakes her head in disbelief, coming to a realization. "That's what Dr. Murray was doing here. He's looking at the case."
"He's a forensics expert, Kate. I gave him a copy of the autopsy," Castle explains, lifting his hands, palms facing her. "He probably won't find anything, but if he does, it could be a lead."
"And then what?" When he doesn't answer, she nods and bends down to get her shirt, tugs it over her head. She glances around for her bra, but doesn't see it. Oh well; she liked that bra, but she can't be here for one more second. Can't look at Castle, can't be in the same room as him.
"Where are you going?" he asks, panic in his words when she reaches the door.
She pauses with her hand on the doorknob, then turns slowly, fixes a glare on him. "I told you what would happen if you touched her file, and you did it anyway. So we're done. No more dating, shadowing, anything." She opens the door and manages to tear her gaze from his. "Goodbye, Castle."
"Kate-"
"Don't follow me," she adds when she steps forward, ignoring his desperate whisper of her name.
And with a heart that's breaking for more than one reason, she slams his door shut and goes home.