...I don't have more. So that's something I'm going to be working on as well. On top of all the other things in my life that require writing and/or bleeding onto a typewriter. I'm not stressed what are you talking about?
If banging his head against a brick wall wouldn’t inflict more damage than he’d already caused himself over the years, Rick Castle would be doing that now. It was certainly the better alternative to sitting in a board meeting learning a new meaning to the word bored. And he wasn’t even interested in this charity. It was some vain excuse for wealthy and lonely housewives to spend their husband’s money – he should know, he used to be one of the husbands – but his agent had insisted that one more ‘page six’ appearance would keep the book sales rolling in so she picked out a fluffy charity for him that was sure to get him some publicity.
The things he did for the job he loved.
He snuck his phone out of his pocket and checked for a new message but his bar was still empty. Damn. After hour one of the meeting he’d texted his girlfriend a 9-1-1, begging her to rescue him and she’d responded with a rather racy comment about what she would do to him once he got out of that meeting.
Figures that her first day off within weeks of working double shifts and he’s stuck in a meeting when neither of them have gotten laid since she started her overtime – two months ago. It had made her unbelievably horny which was nice except for the fact that he wasn’t there to help her out.
He’d texted her back almost right away, prompting her and teasing her as much as possible. Twice he’d cleared his throat to mask his astonishment at the things she’d said and seven times he had to shift in his seat just to relieve a small amount of tension. So far he had only received two odd looks and he was well on his way to a third – and nearly into hour four of the meeting – when the texts suddenly stopped. That was about forty-five minutes ago. It sucked.
Checking his phone every two minutes was getting more odd looks than his grunting and shifting so he reduced his obsession to every five minutes. It still sucked.
In all honesty he had no idea what he was doing here. He hadn’t heard a word that was going on since hour one and the other ‘council persons’ hadn’t noticed at all. Just think: he could be on the other side of the city taking his girlfriend from impossible angles instead of sitting in a room he didn’t want to be in where no one noticed him. This really sucked.
“Rick Castle I knew that was you.” He recognized that squeaky voice but he couldn’t quite place it. Whoever it was, he was thankful for the distraction oh my god it was Kate. His girlfriend was standing there in a tight pencil skirt and a white top with his favourite black bra of hers. Her hair had been done up in a curly bun, giving her a sexy librarian look with a high pitched Jersey accent right out of the nineteen forties. God he loved her.
“Excuse me, this is a private meeting.” One of the ladies – she may have been the chairwoman – snapped at her but Kate kept talking, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
“I knew it was you the moment I saw you. How dare you treat a girl like this. You sleep with her a few dozen times and then never call again? And after I worked so hard to get you onto that damn committee you wanted on.” Her disgusted perusal of the other women in the room had him biting his lip to keep from laughing. “Now I can see why you were so desperate.”
Okay, time to play along. “Look baby”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me. We are over Rick Castle. You can have these back.” He caught the red fabric she threw which he quickly stuffed in his pocket before the others could figure out it was his girlfriend’s underwear.
He stood, smiling apologetically at the other committee members “excuse me, ladies, I’ll just be a minute.”
“Yeah that’s what happened last time.” He did a double take to his girlfriend who hadn’t broken character. He released a nervous giggle while he ushered Kate out of the room, not daring to look back at the ladies in the room. They were no doubt planning on firing him. Damn.
Once they were outside of the room, she didn’t speak, not wanting to cause a scene, but she still leaned all her weight into his side, chewing her invisible piece of bubblegum. His hand didn’t leave her ass until they had slipped inside the elevator – thankfully empty.
His arm circled her waist and he tugged her securely against his hips. “God you are so hot.” She hummed into his open mouth, their kiss devouring every inch of their poorly planned ruse to help him escape.
“Never again.” She muttered against his lips, clinging to his back and neck. “Never again. No matter how much I love you or how desperate you are to escape, this is the last time I’m dressing like my old roommate.”
She startled when he pushed her to arms-length. His eyes softened and she replayed the words in her mind, gasping at her own thoughtless confession.
“That’s the first time you’ve said that to me.”
“I mean it.” Her breathlessness surprised her. “Even if I am dressed like a hooker.” His laughter matched her own. “I love you.” One more kiss pressed against the back of the elevator before it dinged open. “Now can we please go home? I have a phone full of suggestions of what we can do to celebrate your release.”
He opened his mouth – he had to – but she held a finger to his lips. “Say it and it won’t happen.” He nodded. God he loved her.