[7s] 12.1.7 - your love is safe with me.
Jameson Rook had seen a lot of things in his life, beautiful and terrible, horrifying and enriching…but he’d never seen anything like Nikki Heat while she slept.
It struck him as odd that she was at her most distracting when she was so quiet, so still. He could keep his eyes off her sinful curves and sensual mouth if he really tried, but after a round in the sack he couldn’t sleep for fear of missing something.
Even now, sitting on the edge of the bed just for a better look, he felt a little like he’d been punched in the gut. There was such strength there in the graceful line of shoulders and neck, in the toned contour of muscle lightly shadowed in the moonlight along her bicep. Like some kind of ethereal womanchild, she slept with her pillow tucked beneath her head, gathered close with both hands as though it could keep the demons at bay in her rest. The kiss of red in her dark brown hair was invisible in the pale light, black against the white of her pillowcase. The sheet was gathered protectively over her body, but had slipped to expose the supple curve of her breasts. The rest was hidden save for her legs, which had twisted free of the sheets to make the heat more bearable.
God, even her feet were sexy. Nothing so awkward as feet in general, but the feet of a huntress. He could imagine her running through some nameless midnight forest, those soft, sinewy feet bare as she silently stalked her evildoing prey…
Her face, previously relaxed and innocent in repose, tensed as she frowned in her sleep. Rolling on her stomach, she shifted as if to try and get away from something, the hunter becoming the hunted in the landscape of her dreams.
Reaching out, Jameson gently rubbed her bare back, making soft soothing noises to comfort her without waking her. Rolling her shoulders, inadvertently arching into Jameson’s touch, Nikki slowly grew still again.
The sex was amazing, but these moments were golden, and not for the first time Jameson wondered how the hell he was going to make himself leave in the morning.
Finally stopping his hands, Richard looked up from his place, sitting cross-legged in the easychair in one corner of his bedroom. Just a few feet away, his own personal Nikki Heat still lay sleeping, still on her stomach and troubled no further from whatever nightmare had initially tried to interrupt her rest. Normally, she would have returned to her room a full hour ago, but now she had no reason. Alexis knew where she was, and she could easily walk across the hall at a more reasonable hour.
Rick was the crazy one and he knew it, up at two in the morning and watching Beckett sleep the way he did nearly every night. Like he had something to lose, like any minute she’d be more than just out the door, she’d be out of his life. It was hard enough to imagine she’d sleep with him and keep on sleeping with him, but the longer he spent caught in this web, the more sure he was of his feelings. In a way, he’d already had well, well over a year to figure things out, to make sense of what was going on with him and her.
Now she was finally here, curled up beside him, making him wish to God he’d learned how to draw or paint or sculpt. All he had was his laptop in the main room, and all he had were pithy, useless words to try and crystallize the beauty of a woman in his bed.
Sighing, Rick saved his work and shut down his laptop, closing it and setting it back in its bag before he crawled into bed with Beckett, curling himself against her back once more.
Tomorrow, he’d finish Jameson’s short story from Dead Heat. It would give him time to decide if the other would ever see the light of day.
Exhibitionist he might be, some things just weren’t meant to be shared.
Muse: Richard Castle
Fandom: CASTLE
Words: 687
It struck him as odd that she was at her most distracting when she was so quiet, so still. He could keep his eyes off her sinful curves and sensual mouth if he really tried, but after a round in the sack he couldn’t sleep for fear of missing something.
Even now, sitting on the edge of the bed just for a better look, he felt a little like he’d been punched in the gut. There was such strength there in the graceful line of shoulders and neck, in the toned contour of muscle lightly shadowed in the moonlight along her bicep. Like some kind of ethereal womanchild, she slept with her pillow tucked beneath her head, gathered close with both hands as though it could keep the demons at bay in her rest. The kiss of red in her dark brown hair was invisible in the pale light, black against the white of her pillowcase. The sheet was gathered protectively over her body, but had slipped to expose the supple curve of her breasts. The rest was hidden save for her legs, which had twisted free of the sheets to make the heat more bearable.
God, even her feet were sexy. Nothing so awkward as feet in general, but the feet of a huntress. He could imagine her running through some nameless midnight forest, those soft, sinewy feet bare as she silently stalked her evildoing prey…
Her face, previously relaxed and innocent in repose, tensed as she frowned in her sleep. Rolling on her stomach, she shifted as if to try and get away from something, the hunter becoming the hunted in the landscape of her dreams.
Reaching out, Jameson gently rubbed her bare back, making soft soothing noises to comfort her without waking her. Rolling her shoulders, inadvertently arching into Jameson’s touch, Nikki slowly grew still again.
The sex was amazing, but these moments were golden, and not for the first time Jameson wondered how the hell he was going to make himself leave in the morning.
Finally stopping his hands, Richard looked up from his place, sitting cross-legged in the easychair in one corner of his bedroom. Just a few feet away, his own personal Nikki Heat still lay sleeping, still on her stomach and troubled no further from whatever nightmare had initially tried to interrupt her rest. Normally, she would have returned to her room a full hour ago, but now she had no reason. Alexis knew where she was, and she could easily walk across the hall at a more reasonable hour.
Rick was the crazy one and he knew it, up at two in the morning and watching Beckett sleep the way he did nearly every night. Like he had something to lose, like any minute she’d be more than just out the door, she’d be out of his life. It was hard enough to imagine she’d sleep with him and keep on sleeping with him, but the longer he spent caught in this web, the more sure he was of his feelings. In a way, he’d already had well, well over a year to figure things out, to make sense of what was going on with him and her.
Now she was finally here, curled up beside him, making him wish to God he’d learned how to draw or paint or sculpt. All he had was his laptop in the main room, and all he had were pithy, useless words to try and crystallize the beauty of a woman in his bed.
Sighing, Rick saved his work and shut down his laptop, closing it and setting it back in its bag before he crawled into bed with Beckett, curling himself against her back once more.
Tomorrow, he’d finish Jameson’s short story from Dead Heat. It would give him time to decide if the other would ever see the light of day.
Exhibitionist he might be, some things just weren’t meant to be shared.
Muse: Richard Castle
Fandom: CASTLE
Words: 687