A/N – This second chapter is pissing me off so badly. I've already scrapped and rewritten it 3 times. Nothing is good enough to follow the original so HERE JUST TAKE IT. I DON'T WANT TO LOOK AT IT ANYMORE.

The front door slams shut with the force of his body as she pins him to it with her own, his answering growl reverberating through her chest, sending a shiver of want down her spine and straight to her core. She's waited all day for just a moment with him, all week if she's being honest. He captures her lips with his own, nipping as he pushes past them but right now it's a completely different part of him she wants in her mouth. Rolling her hips against him one last time, she steps back, quickly making her way down his body to her goal.

"Richard, dear, is that you?" his mother's voice floats down from upstairs.

Shit not again. She stands up so fast they almost knock heads.

"I thought your mom was supposed to be-"

"She is! Was!"

Beckett lets out a noise of pure frustration, briefly entertaining the idea of dragging him into his closet to hide before she realizes they'd have to be quiet. She cannot do quiet right now.

"I'll go get changed for dinner."

Not wanting a repeat of that night in the kitchen a few weeks ago, she leaves to cool off before Martha inevitably figures out the reason for her sudden grumpiness. Again.

He's still waiting on some call from Black Pawn so she figured she'd take her time getting ready for once, pinning the last stray lock of hair before smoothing out her dress and checking her appearance in the mirror with a sigh. It's not that she doesn't want to go out with her fiancé; it's that she wants to say in with him.

It's been such a long week of interrogations, leads, and paperwork that there wasn't much time for anything else. So having finally wrapped up this case just in time for the weekend and told to go home early, she's really only hungry for one thing. One of those moods where she craves his body, wants to get lost exploring it again. But he wanted to go to dinner, some new restaurant he was dying to take her to. He looked so excited over the idea that she couldn't say no and the thought of eating off a real plate instead of a takeout box did sound nice. They'll need their strength after all, they'll have the whole weekend to themselves.

Maybe she'll throw in a few surprises under her dress for later. Something to tease him with during dinner.

"Oh my, don't you look gorgeous!" Martha says, looking Beckett up and down.

"Thank you, Martha." She smiles, watching his mother spin with a flourish toward the door.

"You kids have fun! And don't forget, Alexis and I will be gone until late Sunday…so you'll have the kitchen all to yourselves," she says with a wink before quickly shutting the door on the sight of her future daughter-in-law's rapidly reddening face.

Beckett's smile drops, her jaw clenching as she turns around to glare at Castle. "How much longer is she going to keep bringing that up?"

"Until she stops getting a reaction from you," he states matter-of-factly, obviously speaking from experience.

She sighs and trudges over to where he's sitting in one of the dark leather armchairs. "That's not fair. I have no control over when I blush," she pouts.

"I know," he says, grinning and raising an eyebrow as he looks up at her.

"Shut up." She smiles, sliding sideways onto his lap, legs hanging over the side of the chair as she winds her arms around his neck.

Leaning in, she speaks in hushed tones right against his mouth. "Aren't we supposed to be going to dinner?" She captures his lips in a lazy kiss, not letting him respond right away.

"I'm waiting for Gina to call me to go over the dates for the book signings here in town."

She pulls her face back a bit in surprise. "Still? She was supposed to call you over an hour ago."

"She probably got held up in meetings. It happens," he apologizes.

"Yeah, well, she's holding up my dinner," she says distractedly between kisses up the scruff on his jaw, nibbling his ear when she reaches it, "…and I'm hungry."

Before he can respond with a suggestion or apology or whatever salacious comment he was going to make, she's gracefully sliding off his lap and down between his legs, her knees cushioned on the plush rug. She rakes her nails up his thighs, relishing in the shiver he can't hide.

"Uh, Beckett, what are you doing?" He shifts in his seat, half amused, half confused but none the less completely into it.

"If you don't know what I have in mind then I obviously don't do this enough," she teases, earning a smirk from him.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about that. The supply closet – "

"That was one time!"

"My point exactly."

"Castle! Do you want me to do this or not?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you wanted an audience. Or did you forget Gina is supposed to be calling me any minute?" He waves the phone at her for emphasis.

That sparks an idea. She can take the edge off her need for him and finally get him back for that infamous night in the kitchen at the same time.

"She hasn't called yet so we might as well do something while we wait. Besides, I got out of work early, Castle," she says, her voice dropping low, "I want to enjoy it."

He clearly can't argue with that logic.

She takes her sweet time unbuckling his belt, dragging the zipper down ever so slowly as he watches with rapt attention. Little does he know her ulterior motive for going the slow, torturous route - stalling as long as she can until his phone rings.

Cradling him in her hand, she leisurely presses barely there kisses up the length of him, occasionally darting out her tongue to taste. She savors the feel of him on her lips, his warm velvety skin covering ridges and veins. God, she's missed him this week, missed the heat of his body, the smell of his skin, the feeling of being completely tangled up in one another.

His phone starts to buzz but she doesn't stop, continues with her slow ministrations until he calls out her name.

"Beckett…"

She ignores him.

"Kate," he implores, gesturing to his phone.

She finally looks up at him, eyes full of mischief and a dare in the quirk of her brow. "Do you want me to stop?" she says in her deepest bedroom voice, the one that never fails to blow out his pupils.

She can see it in his face the moment it dawns on him.

This is payback.

His eyes narrow, lips curl confidently as he silently accepts the challenge. With a grin, she turns her attention back to the growing situation between his legs. He never takes his eyes off her as he taps his finger to the phone, accepting the call.

Game on.

She waits for him to answer before quickly taking the tip of him into her mouth, the twirl of her tongue making him groan and falter his greeting as he tries to cover it up with a cough. Oh, this is going to be too easy.

It mostly depends on Gina though. How much she's actually paying attention and if she's even been this intimate with Castle before. He makes very distinctive noises depending on what's being done to him. Beckett was under the impression that his second marriage was more a convenience than one born of love. At least in Beckett's experience, the deeper of a connection you have with someone the more willing you are – even eager in their case – to give the other pleasure with no regard for your own. Or is it the more pleasure you get out of their pleasure? Either way Beckett knows she has never craved another's body like she craves Castle's.

Apparently she needs to pace herself though because his eyes have glazed over. He hasn't said anything in a while and Gina's starting to notice.

"Are you paying attention?" Gina's impatient voice is clearly audible.

"What? Yeah, of course, just writing this down."

Beckett rolls her eyes at his blatant lie, rubbing him along the roof of her mouth as punishment, making his own eyes roll back in pleasure. She uses her tongue to caresses that sweet spot just under the tip, causing his hips to buck up into her unexpectedly, almost choking on him before she remembers to open up her throat.

She bats his hand away when he reaches for her head, hopefully getting her message across of 'don't you dare mess up my hair'. He grips the arm of the chair instead, holding on for dear life as she takes him in as far as she can, working the rest of him with one hand and cupping him with the other.

Eyes shut tight, he lets out a long groan of pleasure with a little gasp at the end. "I just love that bookstore." He cringes at his lame explanation, waiting to get yelled at but Gina ignores it, continuing to list off stores and dates.

Beckett eases up, his sensitized length picking up every brush of her fingertips as she gently caresses him, lips flaring out around his tip while her tongue strokes him gently, causing goosebumps to race across his skin.

A quiet whimper escapes him when an errant strand of her hair falls loose, tickling his inner thigh with every movement she makes. His breathing is getting shallower, mind struggling to focus on anything other than the woman between his legs, elegant earrings swaying with each bob of her head and dark smoky eyes focused solely on him. She goes for the kill.

In a calculated move, she makes sure he's watching when she slips her hand under the hem of her dress, her eyes sliding close in pleasure. Her fingers are a poor substitute but she doesn't need much. She dives back in with renewed fervor, all the while increasing her suction on him, making him twitch in her mouth at the wicked things her tongue is doing.

An involuntary moan slips from her lips around him when she feels him prepare for release, other parts of her body jealous of her mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he says a little too loudly, the voice on the other end of the line saying something neither of them have enough brain power left to comprehend.

At last he succumbs, their eyes locking as she hungrily devours every last drop he gives her, shutting out the rest of the world.

That is until a shrill voice makes it through the haze of lust surrounding them. "Richard Castle, are you doing what I think you're doing right now?!"

He takes a second to catch his breath. "I'm not doing anything!"

Beckett takes her time cleaning up all traces of their debauchery with her mouth, calmly tucking him back in his pants all the while tuning out the background noise of Gina going off on a rant about professionalism and making Castle agree to do a signing at the Barnes & Noble on 5th whose break room, according to Castle, 'smells like some weird combination of pickles and watermelon flavored candy.'

He finally gets off the phone and glares at her, watching her stand up in the vee of his legs, the picture of poise as she effortlessly smooths out her dress and puts her hair back into place so that anyone walking in would be none the wiser of what just went down. Or who.

"Now we're even," she states triumphantly, like justice has been served.

His gaze is challenging for a moment. "Not quite," he says, sliding his hands up her thighs and gathering up her dress along the way, "I think it's only fair I have dessert first, too."