Disclaimer: If I was Milmar, I would probably have a lot of money and wouldn't need to write fanfic because I would be too busy writing episodes.
"I cannot believe you talked me into this," Kate said to her friend as she buried her hands in her face. The club atmosphere was suffocating; too many people invaded the walls and there was not a lot of room to move, or breathe for that matter. She sighed and lifted her head up as she felt Lanie's hand against her back. "You really are the worst influence ever, you know that, right?"
Lanie grinned back at her, lifting her martini to her lips as she took a short sip. "Girl, you know that I'm only looking out for you. Three years is an awful long time to spend with someone and just give it up after one day."
Lanie was right with what she said. She and Josh had been through a hell of a lot together, and of course the moment he'd dropped down on a knee and proposed to her, she hadn't been the least bit surprised. She'd been thrilled at the moment. However, somewhere during the year since he'd proposed, she'd fallen out of love with him. He was too busy, never there when she needed it. He was a great guy, but she needed space. So, she'd given him back the ring and walked out of the house with a box of her stuff and her pride. That was more than she could say for him.
"So why are we here, then? If it's not for my pride, then what?" She leaned her head against her hand as she twirled the little umbrella from her drink between her thumb and index finger. "Cause if you think I'm going to screw out this frustration with Josh with the first guy I meet, you've got another thing coming, Parish."
Her friend snorted, rolled her eyes at her and took another sip of her drink. "We're not here for a pity party, Kate." She said to her. "We're here for a relaxing evening. And if you just so happen to go home with a hottie, then that's just a plus." She grinned wickedly from behind her glass. Kate held in a groan.
Of course, Lanie wouldn't know. She and Javier had been together for as long as she could remember. They were each other's person. Even if they neglected to think that way sometimes. Lanie didn't have someone coming at her doorstep at three in the morning begging to take her back. Josh was sweet, but he didn't know when to quit it. It was getting tiring.
That was how they'd wound up here, in the middle of the busiest club in New York with her nursing a drink for far too long. Lanie had tried to get her to do shots, but the last time she'd done them, she'd wound up in the lap of the very Doctor that she had just dumped. So she wasn't up to getting into that kind of scene. She let out a frustrated sigh.
"Don't look now, but I think there's someone eyeing you." Lanie told her, leaned forward to get a better look at him. "And if he's not, boy sure needs to get his god damn eyes test."
When Lanie pulled back, Kate glared at her but the woman just shrugged her shoulders lightly, finishing off her drink and calling to the bartender to whip her up another one. They hadn't paid for a drink yet. Not with Lanie's doe eyes and Kate's apparent need for them. She doubted that they would; the bartender seemed all too happy to give the wounded woman and her best friend a round of drinks. That didn't settle nicely.
Turning her head over her shoulder, she glanced at the man that Lanie had brought up, catching a glimpse of blue eyes and a wide smirk. She could practically smell the asshole as it poured off of him. It wasn't until a second glance that she noticed she was staring right into the eyes of one Richard Castle.
She didn't know too much about him, other than what was on his book jackets. Her mother had been a fan of him, and when she'd passed she'd left them to Kate. Or rather, Kate had ransacked the house and taken anything and everything she could before her drunken father could destroy it. Somehow, his books had wound up in that pile. And they were good; she'd read every one diligently while she tried to connect with her dead mother.
Kate turned her head back to Lanie and shot her a quick look. If Lanie knew who the guy was, she was playing it coy. But Kate finished her drink without saying another thing and ordered a hard bourbon.
Richard had come alone that evening, not that he would be leaving alone. He never did; it was part of the charisma of a bestselling novelist. There was always someone willing to, at the very least, leave with the person in question. Even if it was just for the same. (It was always for the fifteen minutes of fame.)
That night, though, he tried to keep a low profile because two blocks away, in his overpriced loft, lay his sleeping daughter. At nearly nine, Alexis was far beyond her years. It gave him a slightly nostalgic feel every time he came home from spending any great amount of time away from her. He always came back to her with some great amount of knowledge stacked in that brain of hers.
The reason he was home so early, especially with almost two months left of his book tour left, and was because his little Princess – not so little anymore, he reveled – was turning nine the next morning. It was everything in him to not show up tonight, wake her up and spend the rest of the night watching whatever movie she wanted to. No, if he went in the morning, took her to breakfast before school and promised to pick her up for dinner, he could guarantee that it would be the best birthday ever.
That was why he'd held off on the excessive drinking. He was known for it, he knew. Every paparazzi with half a brain claimed he was an alcoholic and sure, the divorce from Meredith hadn't been the greatest, but he was nowhere near being an alcoholic. Not yet, at least.
In the midst of all of his thoughts, he hadn't realized that he'd been staring at the back of a woman just a couple of chairs from him. She was beautiful, he thought, even back on and when she turned her head to look at him, he caught a glimpse of hazel eyes and a seductive smirk and he was done for.
Fuck, he at least had to get her name.
It was sort of childish, he supposed. But he was Rick Castle, playboy extraordinaire. If he wasn't spotted flirting with at least one woman, then he wasn't having a good night.
But somehow, this was different. She was different.
He noticed that she'd turned her head away and frowned slightly, debating between going over there and imposing on her evening or leaving her alone. He hadn't caught her eyes that long to know if the stare was welcoming or if it were a sign to ward off.
Rick's curiosity peaked as her friend stood, grabbing her purse. He was too far away to catch their conversation, but he assumed she wasn't going far. Women tended to go in pairs. But the mystery woman stayed where she was, nursing something significantly stronger than he'd seen her originally order. He took this as an invitation.
Moving closer, he sat in the seat next to her, purposefully making nose with the clashing of his glass to catch her attention. Kate turned her head and frowned as she caught a glimpse of who it was. The initial reaction was not what he was aiming for, but it was what it was. "Hello, beautiful." He tried, arching his eyebrow in her direction. "Do you know that you have gorgeous eyes?"
Kate chuckled darkly, lifting her glass of bourbon to her lips as she took a harsh, long sip. "I bet you say that to all the girls you try to bed." She said, clearly unimpressed with his flirting. "You've got to be on the triple digits, now, right?"
Rick took advantage of the dig. "So you know who I am?" He grinned, watched her roll her eyes and leaned forward. "Aw, come on, I know a fan when I see one."
She choked on her laughter, shook her head and turned toward him. "I am not a fan, Mr. Castle. Rather just a person who reads the newspaper."
The look on his face was priceless, she decided and it only made her laugh harder. "You seem like the type of woman who should know better than to look into page six." He poked back, lifting his drink to his lips. Kate observed the way his upper lip wrapped around the inside, the way his lower lip pressed into the glass and the way his tongue poked out, lapping in the liquid and fought off a groan.
He may be a playboy jackass, and it was most certainly the alcohol that spoke for her, but he was damn hot as he took a drink. She pushed her drink away and decided that was enough for her. Anymore and she'd actually give into his advances. She was a freaking Detective, for Christ sakes. If anything, she should have been able to profile him and push him away by now.
"So, do I at least get a name?" He asked as he placed the glass back down on the counter. She blinked at him a couple of times and cocked her eyebrow in his direction. "I mean, it's only fair. You know mine."
"There's not too many people who don't know your name, Castle." She said, leaned against her hand as she glanced over at him.
Rick paused, arching his eyebrow. "There we go again with the formality." He told her and licked his lips. "And Castle. The last name basis thing is hot. But it tells me one thing." He paused and saw the slight flick of curiosity in her eyes. "You're a cop." He grinned.
She said nothing, just rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink. She would need it, she assumed.
"You are, aren't you?" He asked, grinning as he dragged a single digit down her arm. It left a trail of goosebumps on her skin. "Do you have your handcuffs on you?" He chuckled, leaned in and whispered into her ear. "My safe word is apples."
Kate laughed and reached up, dragging her finger along his jawline once he'd pulled away. "Does that work for everyone?" She asked him and leaned forward. "Cause it ain't working for me."
Castle leaned closer and challenged her silently. Kate gulped and he noticed, the smirk on his face tugged up a little higher. "Not even a bit?" He asked, his eyes pierced into hers.
"Not even a little bit." She pushed back. And then her lips were on his. The initial contact shocked him, but he redeemed quickly, wrapped an arm around her waist the best he could and tugged her against his chest.
She pulled away, rested her forehead against his and sighed. "Wanna take this somewhere else?" She couldn't even believe her own ears. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, but all she knew was that she wanted nothing more than to mount him and ride him to oblivion. Oh fuck, that was definitely the alcohol.
He nodded mutely, tossed a fifty on the counter and let her drag him toward the door. When they hit the outside, her lips pressed against his and he lifted an arm to hail a cab. He kept one eye open as he glanced and waited. Kate broke apart from him briefly, let out a deep breath and helped him in his efforts. A cab, not surprisingly, stopped faster for her than it did for him. She tugged him in, shot out an address so fast that he couldn't keep up on what was going and then she was mounted him in the back seat of the cab.
Her hands worked their way around his neck, playing with the baby hair on the back of his neck as slid his hands down her back. The ensemble she was wearing left much of her back open and he thanked the good lord above for that. Her skin was so soft underneath his fingertips, though that was the last thing on his mind the moment her hips ground into his and then it was game over.
The cab pulled outside of her apartment building and he fumbled in between them to grab his wallet, threw the first bill he could find at the cabbie and then exited the car. She clung to his waist for a moment before she dropped her legs to the ground and broke the kiss, holding up a finger as she moved toward her door. She hauled out a key from the clutch he hadn't noticed she'd been carrying and opened the door.
Kate turned around and wagged a finger, urging him forward. And who was he to deny her of her advances?
She lead them to the elevator, and then up to her apartment. After she unlocked the door, she grabbed him by the collar and crashed her lips to his. She led them inside and as soon as they were both inside, her back was against her door. She let out a loud gasp.
"Kate," she breathed as his lips moved lower, teeth nipping against her skin. She wanted to tell him to watch it, that it was getting too warm to wear turtlenecks or scarves, but no words would come to her mind.
He tugged his head back and glanced at her curiously for a long moment. "My name's Kate." She clarified and he nodded once before his lips replaced themselves against her collarbone. Her lips popped open and she raked her fingers through his scalp. She heard him hiss against her skin and she grinned softly.
His hands moved to cup underneath her thighs and lifted them around his waist as he pulled them away from the door. She tightened them as he backed away. "Which room's yours?" He muttered against the valley between her breasts. She let out a soft gasp as his tongue drew a line on the curve of her breast. "First on the left," she murmured. She felt him nod against her chest and break apart to see where he was to go. He led them there and kicked the door behind them. As though she expected someone to come in and interrupt them.
He shed her dress in one swoop, eyeing her with a pleased look as he realized that the dress hadn't come with the option for a bra. His mouth dipped, wrapping around one nipple while his fingers pinched at the other. It was rough, rougher than she'd ever had with Josh, but the amount of heat that pooled between her thighs was a sure sign of her body's reaction to him. She tugged at his suit jacket, which he gladly shed along with his belt. He tossed them somewhere behind them both and then worked at his shirt.
She swatted his hands away and with deft fingers, removed the row of buttons from their slots in ten seconds. He tugged it off his arms and moved his mouth back to her neck, nearly at the same level with their state of undress.
She worked on the button of his pants while his hands roughly moved against her thighs, attempting to remove her panties. Once the disc was out of its slot, she tugged it away and then moved her hands to tug the zipper down. She reached a hand in and palmed his erection. The hiss that was elicited made her grin and she tugged down his pants. He kicked them off his legs along with his designer shoes and socks. In a moment of pure exhilaration, she shed her panties and moved to the bed and spread herself for him.
Beneath the fabric of his boxers, he throbbed. He moved closer as she wagged the same finger from earlier toward him. She sat up, regretfully closing her legs to his view. In one swoop, she tugged his boxers down his legs and he stepped out of them. He pushed her down on the bed and reclaimed her mouth while his hand moved between her legs. She was drenched already and they hadn't even done anything. He flicked his fingertips along her clit and her hips arched involuntarily.
"Fuck," she cussed against his mouth. "Need you inside me." She added.
"Don't have anything on me," he muttered sadly and she grunted, wrapped her legs around him and rolled them over.
"I'm on the pill," she told him before she positioned herself and sunk down. He groaned into the open air as her muscles contracted around the intrusion and she placed her palms against his chest as she allowed her walls to adjust before she started an erratic pace. His hands moved on either side of her hips, helping her with the pace.
It was rough and uncoordinated, but fuck, every thrust hit that spot and she groaned. Her hand flew to her clit, rolling over the bundle of nerves as she rocked her fingers in a slow circle.
His pace began rougher, somehow, as he watched her pleasure herself. She dug her feet into the bed and let out a soft moan, her release imminent. When she fell apart around him, her muscles' contraction drove him to the edge. She collapsed against his chest and he thrust twice more, his seed spilling inside of her.
Breathless souls, she felt him press a kiss to the side of her head. An oddly intimate act considering how rough he'd just been with her.
He'd wake her up several times that night, but not one time did she complain.
A/N: Soooo… how was it? I've been writing a lot of AU prompts on tumblr lately and well, this kind of happened. I'm so nervous. I could throw up. But instead, I'm going to go to sleep. Meep. Also, quick note. This is the first time I've written smut in a decade and a half. So if it's bad, please be nice. Lol.