A/N: This chapter contains sexually explicit material.
August 27. On Monday, the early morning light was starting to brighten Pacey's bedroom when he woke to find himself pinned by a snoring Joey. She was sprawled over him, her head tucked under his chin, one hand in his hair, the other curved around his body. She had one knee bent over him, the other leg snuggled at his side. He ran his hand down the soft skin of her back and palmed her ass. She let out a loud snort and he shook with laughter as he tried not to make any noise.
"Lie still," she grumbled, her voice groggy and hoarse. "Go back to sleep. Let me go back to sleep, too."
"I would, Fräulein, but I can't sleep through your snoring."
Her head came up and sleepy brown eyes tried to glare at him. "I don't snore."
He couldn't stop the laugh that escaped. "Oh, I beg to differ. You sound like a pig snuffling out truffles."
Affronted, mouth falling open, she moved her hand and pinched his side. He jerked, almost throwing her off him. "I am not a pig, and I don't snore."
He opened his mouth to speak, but she narrowed her eyes at him. He could only grin. Man, she was cute.
"If you ever want to have sex again, Pacey Witter, you'll think about what you're going to say before you open your mouth."
He grinned widely. "My mistake, Jo. You definitely, definitely don't snore."
"Damn right." She let her head fall back onto his chest as she snuggled against him.
"You know," Pacey said, smacking his lips. "Threatening to cut me off isn't going to work, Potter. I mean, nine times out of ten, it's you who's jumping me. We both know I'm irresistible."
She grunted. "Not so much."
"Okay, well, we'll see how long that cocky attitude of yours lasts, Miss Potter, when you have to wait until the next time I'm in the mood. And who knows when that will be? You could be waiting a long time."
Joey looked up at him. The smile on his face filled her heart with emotion and her stomach with butterflies. "When are you not in the mood, Pacey? You're probably in the mood right now."
His eyes twinkled as he looked down at her. "Right now? Not so much, no. Not after all that snoring. But I could be in the mood very soon if you made me breakfast in bed."
"I don't snore!" she replied, slapping his arm. "And this is your apartment. I'm the guest. Shouldn't you be feeding me?" Then she stuck her cute little nose in the air, sniffed, and dismissed him with a haughty look. "Guess you'll just have to get in the mood another time, then."
"Minx." Pacey's stomach betrayed him. He'd woken it up with all this talk of food. It let out a loud, traitorous rumble that made Joey giggle.
Then she faked a long-suffering sigh. "Give me a kiss, and I'll go make you some breakfast."
"Sheesh, is nothing free anymore?"
She tilted her head, shut her eyes, and puckered her lips. He chuckled at her lack of effort before flipping her onto her back and claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss. His desire was amped by the way she melted into him. He captured her delicious little moan of need before his belly protested again.
Pacey broke their kiss. "Feed me, please."
Laughing, she pushed him away. "Fine, but you're showering with me after we eat. I'm tired of braving the cold water in that weird shower of yours all on my own."
He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Getting naked in the shower with you sounds like a great way to start my day. And I can think of a few ways we can heat it up."
The hot water tank had stopped working Sunday morning. He'd tried to fix it, but no luck. After a quick call to his new landlord, he'd been told no one could come out to look at it until Monday afternoon.
With a shake of her head, Joey rolled out of bed and pulled on his Bruins T-shirt before heading downstairs to the kitchen. There she fixed coffee, scrambled eggs, fried up some bacon, and made toast. It wasn't long before she was carrying a tray with their breakfast as she ascended the spiral staircase to the loft.
"This is delicious," Pacey said with a smile before taking another bite of his warm, buttered toast. "Thank you."
"You're welcome." She sat cross-legged beside him on the bed, drinking from her coffee cup. "I'm probably destined to be a serving wench all my life."
He chuckled and shook his head. "I think not. I'll be the one serving you breakfast every day before you walk out the door to whatever illustrious career you've attained for yourself, where you'll sit in your very big office, surrounded by framed awards and accolades, and earn your very high-paying salary. I mean, you would expect nothing less for the most accomplished graduate in the history of Worthington."
She rolled her eyes. "And what will you do while I'm stuck in an office all day doing illustrious career stuff?" she laughed.
"I will put on my white uniform and probably cook in one of Mr. Moore's prestigious kitchens."
"Well…" She glanced a sideways look at him before she set the tray with their empty plates and on the bedside stand. "Maybe you'd be running your very own restaurant. Maybe you could have an illustrious career of your own. Like… you could be the next Wolfgang Puck, or something. Have you thought of that?"
He swallowed the last of his coffee before replying. "Yeah, maybe." An uneasy feeling came over him, and he now wanted to change the subject. Pacey set his empty mug on the stand next to him, and then turned to look at her.
"Sweetheart?"
"Yes."
"You got me in the mood."
She started giggling.
And then the Bruins T-shirt was tossed to the floor and he was smothering Joey with long, passionate kisses. She sighed as his soft and warm lips made their way down her neck, across her collarbone. She ran her fingers through his curls while her other hand gently stroked the skin of his back and her thighs wrapped around his waist, her muscles clenching as blood rushed to her groin.
"We honestly don't have time for this now that I think about it," she said, smirking. "Your sister will probably be home any minute."
"I don't care," he replied, dipping his tongue in the hollow of her collarbone, causing her to shudder. "It's not like she's gonna walk up here to interrupt us."
She snorted. "I'm pretty sure she'd hear us, though."
"Well, we are a little out of practice with being quiet. May as well start now," he whispered, his lips running across her skin from the nape of her neck to behind her earlobe, his tongue probing the soft flesh behind it.
She moaned and arched against him. Her breasts were pressed into his chest, her nipples hardening against him, and all Pacey could think of was more. More of this. More pleasure. More time. More of Joey, and only of her. More of her lips, her hands, her long legs, her neck, her breasts, her soft skin. More, more, more. A ball of hot, desirous need started to tighten in the pit of his stomach.
"We both still have to brush our teeth and take a shower. You haven't even unpacked yet. We have to go to the laundromat and wash all your smelly clothes. Would it have killed you to do laundry more than once this whole summer? And now I have to go shopping because I didn't pack anything to wear to a mansion." The thought of having to socialize with a bunch of rich people who probably would never let her inside the door if they knew anything about her family's history was starting to fill her with dread.
"Okay, okay. How about we tackle one thing at a time," he told her. "I promised you we'd shower together, right?"
They stepped up to the counter to stand in front of the bathroom sink. She applied toothpaste to her brush while he unzipped his shaving kit and reached inside. "Ugh," he grunted. "Sand everywhere. How does that happen? I never took my kit to the beach."
"Same as when we got back last summer. I kept finding sand in unexpected places for months."
"Yeah, I know. The inside of my duffel bag full of my smelly clothes? Coated with sand."
He upended his shaving kit into the sink, its contents spilling out. Along with his shaving cream, razor, deodorant, and toothpaste, there were two wrapped condoms. When Joey silently reached down to pick them out of the basin, her stomach turned over. She knew there had been five when he left back in June.
Pacey went about rinsing the sand off his toiletries and then their eyes locked in the mirror. She realized she had stopped what she was doing to watch him and dropped the condoms on the counter before returning to her task. They brushed their teeth side by side at the bathroom sink, their eyes often meeting in the mirror. The atmosphere in the room subtly changed. The air between them became thick with tension.
He rinsed off his toothbrush and set it in the holder on the counter. "What's the matter, Jo?"
"Nothing. I'm fine." She refused to meet his gaze in the mirror.
"Fine," he echoed, disbelief in his voice. He could feel the tension pouring off her, but had no idea what could possibly be the cause. "Come on, tell me. What's wrong?"
She didn't want to sound crazy, and she was afraid if she asked him about the condoms, she'd come across like that. Because she felt crazy, like she wasn't capable of rational speech. Like she might open her mouth to say something insane and insulting, like, "Oh, by the way, did you cheat on me this summer? Because I happened to count the number of condoms in your bag before you left and three are gone."
She knew there had to be a perfectly reasonable explanation for the discrepancy, and she also knew Pacey was absolutely faithful, but it made her sick at her stomach to think of him with anyone else. She knew it was impossible, that he would never, but the sick feeling wasn't going away.
"What is the matter, Joey?" he asked her again, almost demanding an answer from her.
Which was worse: to come off jealous, or crazy? Or maybe she'd come off jealous and crazy. She took a deep breath. "Did you… use any…" Her face was burning. She wanted the floor to open up and swallow her.
"Use any…?" His brows lifted expectantly.
She sighed again, and she still couldn't look him in the eye. "Did you use any… condoms… over the summer?"
Breathless laughter escaped him as his dark brows furrowed in confusion. Then indignation began to rise up inside him. "How can you ask me that? Why would you even need to ask that?" When she didn't answer, he shook his head, his gaze then falling on the two Durex condoms on the counter beside the faucet. He remembered Melanie knocking on his hotel room door, and closed his eyes as realization came over him.
"No, Joey. I didn't use any condoms, but a friend needed some and asked if I had any I could spare. And it just so happened that I did. You know, since I had no need of them because my girlfriend was back home."
There was a hard edge to his voice, and she cringed. Guilt and shame flooded her. She felt like a jerk. She felt like an idiot. Joey finally looked up to meet his gaze. The hurt and disbelief were evident in Pacey's eyes. "I'm sorry. I just—"
The door slammed shut downstairs, and then they heard Gretchen call out, "Hi, kids, I'm home!"
Joey's gaze met Pacey's, but he could only shake his head before turning to walk out of the bathroom. Her stomach in knots, she stood rooted to the spot and watched him go. Still inwardly berating herself, minutes later she stepped into the shower alone and let the lukewarm water wash over her.
Inside the laundromat on Dixfield Street, Pacey sat aimlessly flipping through a magazine, the sound of his drying clothes spinning in front of him. He could see his jeans, the one with the hole in the knee, as they spun. Music was playing from a radio that sat in the corner of the large room. He quickly gave up on the magazine, and tossed it aside.
The Nokia cell phone in his front pocket started to ring, and for a moment he wondered if it was Joey calling before he looked at the screen to see it was Doug. With a heavy sigh, he answered it.
"Hi, Dougie."
"Hello, little brother."
"To what do I owe the honor of this phone call?"
"Well, I knew you were back on Massachusetts shores and I just wanted to check in with you. How are you? How was your summer?"
"I'm doing okay. My summer was great, actually."
"Good, I'm glad to hear it."
"So, how are you doing, Doug?"
"Me? Oh, I'm fine. You sure you're okay, Pace?"
"Uh…"
"Is it Joey?"
He took a deep breath, and then recounted what had happened earlier in the loft bathroom. "I mean, I know she has a mean jealous streak, and she has the tendency to lean towards possessiveness. But that's just her personality, right? I should just accept that."
"Well…" Doug paused. "I'd say jealousy can be a symptom of selfishness. And selfishness isn't a personality trait; it's a learned behavior. One way to learn selfish behavior is by being spoiled and getting everything we want, never having to go without, and being the only child where you never really learned how to share."
Pacey's thoughts immediately went to Dawson, and he frowned. "Sounds about right."
"Yes. And another way is by growing up not having much of anything. Those who didn't have much growing up tend to become selfish out fear of losing what they now have and what they never had before. And that doesn't just apply to being selfish with their material possessions, but with the people in their lives."
He closed his eyes, his mind filling with thoughts of Joey. The hard life she'd had growing up, losing her mother, and then her father. They'd both left her, in two very different, yet very painful, ways. She'd spent those years feeling like no one loved her, or wanted her. And now she had someone who truly loved her, who wanted her. Someone who loved her more than life itself. He knew she was terrified to lose it.
"So, what do I do?"
"Just be patient with her, Pacey."
He leaned back in the plastic chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "So, uh, when are you gonna come up to Beantown and visit me, Dougie?"
"Oh, I don't know. One of these days, I imagine."
"Hey, we'll make a night of it. We'll even go out to a gay bar, and I'll be your wingman. We'll have lots of fun. What do you say?"
The call then cut off. "Dougie?" he started to say. "D-Doug?" But the dial tone in his ear told him it was useless. Shaking his head, he slid the phone back in his pocket.
It wasn't long after that Pacey shoved a wheeled laundry cart under his dryer and started shoveling in his dried clothes. He pushed the cart over to the large counter in the middle of the room, and started folding. A woman who looked to be around twenty-five or so, wearing a tight denim mini-skirt and V-neck tank top, dumped her clothes at the other end of the long counter. Her dirty blond hair was up in a half-ponytail. He thought she was fairly pretty, despite the heavy makeup and hairspray. Not the kind of pretty that one would find on a magazine cover—especially since those were all photoshopped anyway. But an approachable kind of pretty.
Pacey noticed she kept looking his way, and started slowly moving her pile of clothes closer and closer until she was almost directly across from him. "I never seen you in here before," the woman said in a thick Boston accent.
He shook his head. "I'm, uh, new to the neighborhood."
"New to Southie?" she laughed, shaking her head.
"Yeah."
"Well, you sure don't sound like you're from here."
"I'm not. I'm from a small town called Capeside."
She blinked. "Capeside? Never heard of it. As in somewhere on the Cape?"
He took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yep."
"You born there?"
"Yeah."
"Okay, so, what's a rich boy like you doing in Southie?"
"I'm not rich," he scoffed.
She apparently wasn't buying it. "Nuh-uh. Everyone who lives on the Cape is rich."
"Most people, sure, but not all. I can promise you I'm not rich."
"Yeah, I guess not," she said, her tone and smile suddenly turning flirtatious. "If you were, why the fuck would you be in Southie, folding laundry at Dixfield Cleaners?" She laughed.
He laughed breathlessly and tried to focus on his clothes.
"My name's Kimberly."
He looked up to see her smiling and holding out her hand. He returned a polite smile, and shook her hand. "Pacey. Nice to meet ya."
She pulled an orange Post-It Note block from her purse and started writing. Then she tore the note from the pad and handed it over. "If you ever need anything, anything at all, you can call this number anytime, and I'll answer it. Or if I don't, just leave me a message."
He stared at the orange paper in his hand. There was a heart where the dot should be in the 'i' in her name, with a phone number written beneath it. "No, thank you," he said, handing it back to her.
Kimberly let a shocked breath of laughter as she took the note and looked at him like he had three heads. "For real?"
"I'm just not interested."
"What, you think you're better than me, or somethin'?"
"No, of course not, and I didn't mean any offense," he replied as he shoved his folded clothes inside his duffel bag. "But I have a girlfriend, so I can't really be taking phone numbers from strange women I meet in the laundromat."
She rolled her eyes and laughed as she placed her folded clothes in a wire basket with wheels. "You don't know what you're missing, Islander boy. I coulda rocked your world and made you see fireworks."
Pacey didn't look back as he pushed the laundromat door open and heard it slam shut behind him.
After pulling on a pair of jeans and a blue tank top, Joey came downstairs and found Gretchen standing in front of the open refrigerator door. She turned and smiled at her approach. "Hey, Jo."
"Hey. Um, where's Pacey?"
"He hauled his duffel bag out the door and said something about doing laundry. It's a miracle," she smirked, and then shut the door after retrieving the carton of orange juice. "He borrowed your truck, by the way."
Joey frowned as she came to a stop at the island separating the kitchen from the living space. It had been the plan to go to the laundromat together, but he obviously didn't want her company at the moment.
"He also told me about the hot water tank. That sucks." Gretchen poured herself a glass of juice. "So, um, I hope you don't think me rude if I don't ask how your weekend fuckfest went 'cause I really don't want to know about that part…" She pulled a face.
She blushed and averted her eyes, laughing awkwardly as she tapped her hands on the island countertop. "No, it's… it's fine."
"But uh… Pacey seemed kinda quiet when he walked outta here."
"He's mad at me."
"Does he have a good reason?"
"Yes. I messed up and have to apologize."
"Well, then I'm sure you will and I'm equally as sure he'll get over it, whatever it is."
Joey sighed and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know. Sometimes I think there's something seriously wrong with me. I really think I have a problem. Why do I get so jealous about things that don't bear any importance on our relationship? I know, logically, that I have nothing to worry about."
"I think when you truly love and respect someone you learn to control that behavior."
"I know, I know. But all these insecurities and fears keep coming up, and I can't get rid of them. I just… I don't know, I… I don't feel like I'm enough, I guess."
"You're more than enough, Joey."
"I hate being this person. Do you ever feel like you might be incapable of sustaining a relationship?"
Gretchen smirked. "I think I'm in touch with that emotion. Falling in love is mostly dumb luck, but the rest of it… well, it seems like it takes a hell of a lot of work to get your happily ever after."
Her face contorted into a teasing expression. "And about your mysterious Charlie?"
"Six weeks does not a relationship make. Charlie is… well, Charlie is great. It's very new, for the both of us, and we're taking it slow."
"Okay, subject change. Are you busy today? Do you have to work?"
Gretchen shook her head. "Not until later tonight. Why?"
"Good. I need your help to find something to wear to the Moore Mansion tonight. I probably need a dress or a skirt, and I didn't pack anything like that."
"Shopping?" Gretchen's eyes lit up like a child promised a treat, and Joey laughed.
An hour later they arrived at the mall, and started browsing their way through various shops. In the first store they looked at, the dresses turned out to be downright dowdy. In the next, Joey fared no better. She would have been fine if she liked frilly, flowery concoctions, which she didn't. The third clothing store turned out to be the charm.
The style of clothes looked to be designed not for middle-aged women, as the first store's clothes had been, or for preppy middle-schoolers, as was the second. Joey had decided that whatever she bought would be black and something in a casual style that could be easily worn again. It didn't take her long to find a rack with an assortment of black skirts. As she looked through them, she noticed Gretchen had gone to another rack nearby. When she made a sound of exclamation, Joey turned to see what had caught her attention.
As soon as she saw what dress Gretchen had pulled off the rack, she shook her head. "No way."
"Ah, come on, Joey. At least try it on. I think you'll look incredible in this."
"Are you kidding me? That doesn't seem appropriate for dinner. A party, maybe…"
"No, seriously, you have to try this on. Do you recall what you said to me outside, right before we walked into the mall? You said that you wanted to find a dress that would make a good impression with the Moores, and also make Pacey forget he was ever mad at you. Remember?" Gretchen shook the hanger. "This is it. I mean, was I wrong about that dress you got for the after-prom party?"
Joey huffed and eyed the dress. It was a sleeveless sheath made out of a satiny material and was the color of a rich, red wine. From the looks of it, the neckline was cut rather low, and she had a feeling it would be formfitting. With her height, it also probably stopped somewhere well above her knees. "I don't know, Gretchen. I said I wanted to make a good impression, not make them think I'm some sort of floozy."
"There is nothing wrong with this." Gretchen shoved the dress at her. "Joey, I can guarantee you that Pacey will be picking his jaw up off the floor while wiping the drool from his chin."
Just then her cell phone rang, and she pulled it from her jeans pocket. It was Pacey calling. Her stomach tightened with nerves as she answered. "Hi."
"Hey, uh, where are you?"
"Didn't you see the note I left on the fridge? I'm out shopping with your sister."
"Oh, okay. I haven't made it back yet. So, uh, this dinner thing tonight…?"
"Yeah? What, is it cancelled?" she asked hopefully.
He chuckled. "Uh, no. It turns out that Melanie invited a bunch of her law school friends, and then Amanda—Mrs. Moore—asked some more people to join them, and she even wants me to call up some of my friends and invite them, too. So, now it's sort of snowballed into this hors d'oeuvres party. Do you still want to go with me? I know it's not what you originally agreed to…"
Joey looked over at his sister, who was smirking and still holding out the dress on its hanger towards her, shaking it. She heaved a sigh. "No, it's fine. I'll go."
"Great. So, I'll, um…" He fell silent a moment, and she frowned at the embarrassing memory of their last conversation. "I'll see you later, Jo."
"Yeah. See you later, Pace."
She hung up the call and shoved the Motorola phone back in her pocket. After taking the dress from Gretchen, Joey went to the fitting rooms. Once she had the dress on, she could see Gretchen was right. It looked better with her wearing it than it did on the hanger. It hugged her in all the right places. The length of it fell about three inches above her knees. She studied the outline of her breasts slightly peeking over the low-cut neckline. She supposed it wasn't too revealing. She gave herself one final once-over in the mirror before she stepped out to show Gretchen.
She was immediately greeted with an excited squeal. "You look amazing!"
Feeling a little embarrassed and awkward, she averted her eyes. "Thanks."
"And your tits look great," Gretchen said, and Joey blushed. "Just enough to tantalize, not enough to tease. Perfect."
"Uh…" Her face was burning. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me, thank the dress. Now get back in there and change. We need to get you some shoes to match. Time's a wasting."
While Joey grabbed some lunch at the food court with Gretchen, her cell phone rang again and she flipped it open to answer. It was Jack.
"Your boyfriend just called me. There's a party tonight, huh?"
"Really?" She feigned innocence.
"Yes, really. Aren't you going?"
She exhaled a breath. "Yes, I'm going."
"Should be fun. Hold on, here's Jen." Joey heard the muffled sounds of the phone changing hands, and then her friend spoke. "Hey."
"Hey, Jen," she chuckled.
"So, is this a fancy party?"
"Fancy for me, or fancy for the millionaires who live in Brookline?"
Jen was quiet a moment. "Good point. What are you wearing?"
"A dress. I had to buy one because I didn't bring anything like that with me."
"Ooh, yeah, that's right. So… how was your weekend?" she asked suggestively. "Have you been thoroughly ravaged? Can you walk?"
"I'm hanging up now."
Joey closed the phone on Jen's laughter.
When she and Gretchen returned to the apartment, Pacey was busy with the plumber who'd shown up to look at the water heater. Joey went up the spiral stairs, carrying her shopping bags to the loft bedroom. After a few minutes, her boyfriend appeared in the open doorway.
"Hey."
She gave him a small smile. "Hey. How's it going with the plumber?"
"The hot water heater is like a hundred years old, so the guy has to install a new one."
"Oh, no. That stinks."
Pacey shrugged it off. "We knew the place would need some work. Fortunately, he had a new tank on his truck. He's installing it now. Even better, the landlord is paying for it."
"That's great."
"Yeah." A frown tugged at the corner of his mouth. The air between them was still tense. "Jack and Jen will be here at six o'clock. I figured we could all ride together."
"Sure. Um, no Andie?"
"It's move-in week at Harvard," he explained. "It's a big deal over there, or so I'm told."
"Ah. Right."
Then they heard Gretchen's voice calling from downstairs. "Hey, Jo! Come and get ready in my room so I can do your hair and makeup."
"Oh, God," Joey groaned.
Pacey's chest shook with silent laughter. "Have fun."
Grabbing her shopping bags from the floor, she went back down the staircase, where Gretchen ushered her into her room. "This is exciting," she said as she pulled Joey down to sit on the chair at the mirrored vanity. "You're like the sister I never had."
She gaped at her. "You have two older sisters," she pointed out.
"Yeah, but when I was ten, Amy was eighteen. It's not like she hung out with me and played Barbies and dress-up."
"So, now I get to be your very own life-sized doll, is that it?"
Gretchen beamed a smile. "Exactly!"
Sitting in front of the mirror, Pacey's sister ran her hand through her hair. "What's up the whole messy waves thing? It's like you brushed your hair with a pillow."
"It's been humid as hell this summer, and I've given up on using my hairdryer. I can't be bothered."
"You can't be bothered with wearing a bra either, but guess what? You're wearing one tonight." Gretchen opened the top drawer of the vanity and started rummaging. "We have to do something with this hair."
"Just don't put a lot of gunk in it, okay?"
"You can always take a shower and wash it out later, Joey."
Her long, dark hair was soon pulled back into some messy, wavy bunch at the base of her neck. After donning the black strapless bra and matching underwear that Gretchen had made her buy at the mall, she slipped the dress over her head and smoothed it over her body. She did up the zipper that was concealed at her right side and ran down the seam. Lastly, she put on the new pair of black shoes.
The shoes were pretty enough. They were heeled sandals that had straps around her ankles. Once she had them on her feet, she started taking practice steps around the hardwood floor. The heels were a little higher than she was used to, but, surprisingly, she found them easy to walk in.
At exactly six o'clock, she heard Pacey's footsteps coming down the spiral iron staircase. She took a deep breath, and when she turned around to face him, all the air left her lungs in a whoosh. It seemed like he had gotten new clothes as well. He now wore a slate blue button-down shirt with charcoal pants. His shirt was open at the throat, revealing some of his tanned chest. Her gaze was drawn to the enticing patch of smooth skin that showed. She had the greatest urge to run her tongue across it.
He let his gaze wander over her. Joey's dress was strapless and its low-cut neckline displayed her breasts like perfect round peaches. The shimmering dark red material clung to the gentle contours of her hips before finally coming to an end above her knees.
Pacey cleared his throat. "Are you ready to go, or are you just going to stand there and stare at me for the rest of the evening?" he grinned.
Coming back to herself, Joey blinked her eyes a couple times. "Sorry. I'm ready. Just let me get my bag and we can go." With the small clutch that she was borrowing from Gretchen in hand, Joey walked out of the apartment, Pacey following behind her. Out in the hall, he threaded his fingers through hers, and they made for the stairwell. When they reached the bottom floor of the building, she turned her head to look at him. Most of the tension stemming from their conversation earlier that morning had dissipated. His gaze seemed to be glued to her body.
Feeling a little self-conscious, Joey ran her hand down the length of the dress. "Hopefully this isn't too over-the-top because this is the only dress I have here in Boston with me. Gretchen picked this out at the store today. So, if you don't like it, it's all her fault."
As she opened her mouth to say more, Pacey cut her off with his lips. He pulled her against his body, and thoroughly kissed her until her legs were ready to give out. Ending the kiss, he smiled. "I love you."
Her heart swelled. "I love you, too."
"The dress is fine, Jo. More than fine, actually. You look beautiful. But now I have to wonder how many men I'll have to scare off before the night is through. They'll take one look at you in that and want you all for themselves."
Her eyes roamed over his body. "You look very handsome. So, I could say the same thing. And since that's the case, we really don't have to go tonight. Your apartment is just upstairs. I'm sure we can think of another way to spend our evening," Joey said in a coy tone.
"No. We're going, and no throwing yourself at me in the hopes of changing my mind either," Pacey replied with a laugh. "I gave my word to Amanda Moore that I would be there, and so I will be."
They walked outside to see Jack and Jen had shown up. Their friends came up the sidewalk towards them. Pacey and Jack shook hands. "Good to see you, buddy."
"Aww, Pace. I missed you." Jen pulled him into a hug as he laughed.
"Missed you, too."
She let him go and then turned to Joey. "Wow, you look amazing."
"Thanks, Jen. You look great," she replied, admiring the turquoise, floral-printed, silk sundress her friend wore.
"Grams took me back-to-school shopping for new clothes," she joked.
"So, I guess we'll take my car?" Jack offered as a shiny black Escalade pulled up on the street in front of the building. They all turned to stare.
Pacey watched with furrowed brows as the SUV came to a stop and parked. Then the driver's side door opened, and out hopped a familiar looking man in a black suit and driver's cap.
"Hey, Pacey," he said with a bright smile.
"Hi, Miguel."
"I am here at your service, courtesy of Mrs. Moore."
Jack's mouth fell open. "We're riding in an Escalade? Hell yeah," he muttered, and Jen laughed.
As Miguel opened the rear passenger doors, the friends lined up to climb inside. They then made the drive to the affluent Brookline neighborhood on the westside of the city. It was almost seven o'clock when they reached the mansion. Joey and Jen stood in the cul-de-sac driveway, staring up at it in shock. The imposing building had soft light radiating from within. The place screamed money and opulence.
"Holy shit."
"I know," Joey agreed.
Pacey took her by the hand as they approached the front door. They rang the bell and a butler dressed in traditional livery answered the door.
"Hi, Varty," greeted Pacey with a grin.
The butler gave him an indulgent smile. "Good evening, Mr. Witter." Then he stepped aside to allow them entrance.
Joey couldn't help but stare at the butler as she passed. She never imagined in all her life she'd ever find herself in a place that had a real, live butler. They were welcomed in the foyer by Amanda Moore.
"It's so good to see you again," she said to Joey, shaking her hand.
"Um, thanks. You too."
"And your dress is a knockout."
Joey blushed and thanked her again. Despite the sincere compliment, she suddenly felt stupid in the dress, and wanted to run back out the door.
The mansion's main ballroom ("Main ballroom," she'd muttered to an amused Jack. "Because the other ballrooms are just too small.") was decorated beautifully, even she had to admit. Twinkle lights draped the walls and soft music was playing as guests milled around, talked, and drank. Women wearing short black skirts and white button-down shirts moved around the guests with trays of canapés and other hors d'oeuvres. A bartender worked a fully-stocked open bar at the far end of the large room.
"Pacey!"
He turned to see Mr. Moore walking toward him, clearly happy to see him. He stuck out his hand as his boss reached them.
"So glad you made it," James said. Then he turned to Joey, and smiled warmly. "And how are you, Miss Potter?" he asked, extending his hand to shake.
She shook his hand. "I'm fine, thank you. And thanks for inviting us."
He smiled again. "The pleasure is all mine. So, how was your summer without this guy hanging around?" he smirked, nodding at Pacey.
"Oh, you know… I survived," she shrugged.
"Glad to hear it." Then he was introduced to Jack and Jen, greeting them just as hospitably. Suddenly, his wife appeared, taking Joey and Jen by the arms.
"I must introduce you ladies to everyone," the woman said, and then she ushered them around the room.
Joey glanced over her shoulder at Pacey, who could only helplessly shake his head in amusement. It wasn't long before she found herself being re-introduced to "Melanie Shea Thompson," and shaking hands with her friends from law school.
"Joey here is starting at Worthington next week," Melanie informed the group, who all gave her looks of approval.
She could only smile awkwardly. "Jen is going to Boston Bay College with our friend, Jack. He's somewhere in here."
They all had seemingly good things to say about Boston Bay, and one in the group had actually gone to undergraduate school there. The conversation then focused on college for the next several minutes.
"How's your family's bed and breakfast doing?" Melanie asked Joey.
Surprised the girl even remembered, she blinked. "Oh, uh… business is good. The reservation book was full all summer."
"That's great." Then Melanie leaned forward conspiratorially and lowered her voice. "You know, that boyfriend of yours wouldn't shut up about you all summer. Seriously, it was nonstop Joey this and Joey that. It was sickening, to be honest. But now that I see you in this dress, I can see why." She laughed.
She didn't know what to say to that. "He talked about you a lot, too."
Melanie gave her a surprised look. "Really?" she laughed, apparently tickled by that piece of information.
After a few minutes of polite small talk, Joey and Jen managed to escape the group of law students.
"So, that was the famous Melanie."
She sighed heavily as they made their way across the ballroom. "Yep. Melanie Shea Thompson. Why do rich people always have three names?"
"I have no idea. Maybe the more people you're named after, the more wills you could potentially appear in," Jen replied.
Joey laughed, and then her stomach growled. "Do you think there's any real food around here? Those fancy crackers leave a lot to be desired."
Her lips curving into a mischievous grin, Jen grasped her by the arm. "Let's sneak out of here and go find the kitchen."
"The main kitchen, or like, one of the smaller kitchens?"
Laughing, the two girls made their way out of the ballroom. After stopping a waitress holding a tray of champagne flutes, they followed the directions she gave to the kitchen. A very happy-looking chef who seemed eager to please ushered them to a small room off the kitchen and set down some cheesecake in front of them along with glasses of champagne.
"Did you hear what Melanie said? She said Pacey talked about me all the time." She couldn't help but smile as warmth spread through her.
"Well, of course, he did. Why wouldn't he? I don't why you were ever worried about that girl." Jen stared at her for a second. "Would you please stop smiling?"
Joey tried to keep the smile off her face. She really tried, but it seemed stuck there with superglue.
"You're making me nauseous," Jen grumbled.
"If you feel nauseous, does that mean I get to eat the rest of the cheesecake?"
"No, it means I get all the cake, because you are so obviously getting something else."
Joey blushed even though she made a conscious effort not to. Jen pointed a fork at her.
"I'm hating you right now. You could be a bit less obvious about the fact that you've spent the last three days doing nothing except the naked pretzel in Pacey's bed."
"Well, sometimes it was on the couch, or the floor, or up against a wall." She shoveled more cake into her mouth.
"I miss having a man," Jen said with a sigh. She put her elbows up on the table in front of her and perched her chin on her hands.
Joey smiled. "Are we talking about having in the biblical sense, or having as in 'he'd be useful around the house?'"
"Both." Jen drank more champagne. "Although, Jack is around the house and he can, like, open jars and stuff. But… I, um, I've been thinking that I really want a boyfriend. Not just having fun and going out on dates, but… you know, something serious." She gave Joey a cautious glance as if to catch her reaction.
"That's great, Jen. But remember you don't need to rush it. Take your time until you find the right person."
"Ha! Easy for you to say! The girl who's had more sex in the last three days than I've had in two years."
Joey rolled her eyes, and tried very hard not to blush. Tried and failed.
"Thanks for the cheesecake," Jen called out to the kitchen staff as they made their way to the exit. "It was delicious!"
When they reached the ballroom, Joey scanned the guests looking for Pacey. Suddenly, Jen nudged her, and leaned over. "The moment you walk over there and hold his hand, you're gonna disappoint a lot of women in this room."
"What?" she laughed, her brows knitting with confusion.
Jen nodded towards the bar. Joey turned and saw four young women standing there, drinks in their hands. They were huddled together, talking, laughing. All four were staring in the same direction, and all four obviously liked what they were looking at. She followed their gaze across the ballroom.
Pacey was standing with some older men she didn't recognize. He appeared comfortable, at ease. They were laughing. He was clearly entertaining them. And the way they looked at him, she could tell they liked him.
"Oop. Melanie Shea Thompson," Jen muttered. "Twelve o'clock."
She tore her gaze from Pacey and quickly found the pretty blonde. Some of her friends, the female ones she'd met, were standing with her. They were talking and laughing and also very clearly watching Pacey. She wondered if one of Melanie's friends, or one of the other attractive women at the bar, were trying to work up the nerve to approach him.
"Well?" Jen elbowed her. "Are you gonna go over there and stake your claim, or what?"
Frowning, she remembered the way she'd reacted to seeing the two condoms. The hurt look in his eyes because she'd doubted—even for the briefest of moments—his faithfulness. She didn't want to be that person. "No. He's having fun with those guys. Why should I walk over there?"
"Okay, well, I'm gonna go look for Jack. Come find us when you and Pacey are ready to leave this shindig."
Joey's gaze returned to Pacey. She didn't belong in this room, with these people, but he did. He was almost too beautiful for words. His brown curls looked darker in this lighting. She knew the clothes he wore were making his gorgeous blue eyes pop. His profile was all strong jaw and smooth lines. He was the man of her dreams.
"Hello, Miss Potter."
She turned to see James Moore standing there. "Oh, hi."
"Are you enjoying the party?"
"Um… I had some great cheesecake."
His brows furrowed, and he glanced around the room. "I wasn't aware there was any cheesecake out here."
"There's not."
James let out a snort of laughter, still looking confused, but apparently was willing to let it go. "I'm sure Pacey told you about his summer."
She smiled. "He did. He had a fabulous time. He loved it."
"I'm happy to hear that. He did a fantastic job. We were all very impressed with him, and with his talent, his work ethic, his eagerness to learn new things."
Her chest swelled with love and pride, and she beamed a genuine smile. "You know, I was just telling him this morning that maybe someday he could own his own restaurant."
A slight smile tugged at his mouth. "You don't say."
On the other side of the ballroom, Pacey listened as the men around him laughed. They were Mr. Moore's wealthy neighbors, who undoubtedly had their own large homes nearby. He shifted his weight, wanting to end the conversation politely and go look for his girlfriend. Where the hell was Joey? He couldn't spot Jen either.
Then he turned and saw Joey standing with James. His stomach instantly knotted. What were they talking about? "Um, if you'll excuse me, gentlemen," he said, turning back to the group. "But I just spotted my girlfriend and I better go before some other guy grabs her attention."
They all laughed and clasped his shoulder good-naturedly. He walked away, rolling his eyes. Pacey quickly closed the distance and came to an abrupt stop in front of Joey and his boss. "Hey, hey, hey," he greeting, trying to control his nervous laughter. "So, how it's going? What are we talking about?"
"Good," Joey said with a smile. "I just told him about our conversation this morning. About how I said you could be the next Wolfgang Puck."
"And I wholeheartedly agreed," James said, before giving him a knowing smile.
"Well, you should totally make that happen, Pace."
He swallowed. "Yeah, sure," he replied, laughing it off. Then he glanced at James, whose brows were raised in a pointed look. Pacey looked at his watch. "It's getting late. Don't wanna sleep in and show up tardy my first day at the restaurant."
Pursing his lips, James heaved a resigned sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets. "No, we don't want that. I'll call Miguel and tell him you're ready to be driven home." He turned to Joey. "It was a pleasure seeing you again. Keep on this guy." He tilted his head at Pacey. "You gotta light a fire under him. He's destined for great things."
"Oh, I will," she said, before watching Mr. Moore walk away. She turned to Pacey, and smiled. "Did you hear that? Destined for great things."
He tried to force a smile in return. "Yeah, I heard it."
"Okay, well, I'm gonna go round up Jen and Jack." She kissed him on the cheek, and then went in search of their friends.
As Joey made her way around the large ballroom, she was a jumble of mixed emotions. She felt so proud of Pacey, and happy for him that he was doing so well. And she wanted nothing more than for him to go out into the world and achieve great things. It was what he deserved, after hearing for most of his life that he wasn't good enough, that he was stupid and lazy, and that he'd never amount to anything. She wanted him to show them all. She wanted them to eat their words.
And at the same time, her fear rose up to choke her. Pacey was everything she could ever want and nothing she would ever be exciting enough to keep. She couldn't compete with this life, with whatever Mr. Moore could offer him. Pacey was going to grow so far beyond her. It was possible that he was not only going to outgrow her, but maybe even this city. The world could open up so many doors for him.
But she was once again realizing that she'd never survive the loss of him. There was no way she could let him leave her, go and live a life without her, go and be with someone else. If she hadn't fully realized before how much she depended on him being with her, then this summer apart had made it clear.
What would she ever do without him?
And the answer felt so dismal, so lonely, so sad that she could hardly breathe for one heartbreaking moment. A future without Pacey was a future she didn't want. It was too unbearable to even contemplate.
It didn't take long for Joey to find Jen and Jack, and the three friends walked back across the ballroom, in the direction of the entrance. As they made their way around small groups of huddled guests, she eventually laid her eyes on Pacey again when they entered the foyer. Melanie was with him, and she was laughing.
Joey desperately tried to suppress the jealousy and fear that threatened to overtake her rational mind.
But as she was walking towards him, where he was standing with Melanie, her miserable life flashed in front of her, and she felt very insecure. She couldn't let him go. What would she do without him? No one else could give her what Pacey could. No one else could love her the way he did. And there was no one else she could ever love the way she loved him. They were two halves of the whole. To lose him would be to lose half of herself, to have her soul ripped from her body. It would destroy her. She couldn't let that happen.
When she reached Pacey, she grasped his hand possessively, threading their fingers.
"I was just telling him how great he looks," Melanie told her, smiling.
"He does look really great. It's a great shirt."
"I know! I picked it out and bought it for him."
Pacey closed his eyes, his heart sinking as he felt his girlfriend tense beside him. Why had they come to this stupid party? Should've just stayed at the apartment, like she'd suggested.
"You… bought him clothes?" Joey's eyes narrowed.
"Well, yeah," Melanie said with an obvious tone of disbelief at her question. "All he had were jeans, Hawaiian shirts, and cargo shorts. I mean, he had to look presentable on social occasions."
"And how often would you… socialize?" Joey snitted.
Pacey turned as he felt a hand on his shoulder, and saw Miguel standing there. "Oh, thank God," he blurted. "Okay, we're ready to go."
"Good luck at law school," he said to Melanie.
"Thanks," she replied, eyeing Joey with an awkward look of confusion. "Have fun at the restaurant."
With that, Pacey pulled Joey by the hand, and they walked out of the mansion to the waiting Escalade parked out front in the driveway.
The drive back to South Boston was mostly quiet. After saying goodbye to Jen and Jack, they walked inside the apartment building on Eighth Street. They were silent as they went up the flights of stairs to the third floor.
While Pacey unlocked the door to apartment six, the door across the hall opened. He and Joey turned to see his neighbor Maria standing in her doorway.
"Oh, sorry," she said. "It's been so long since anyone lived over there, that when I heard noise in the hallway, I had to check."
Noise in the hallway? Joey was skeptical, and frowned at the woman's skimpy nightgown.
"Just us," Pacey replied wearily. "Nothing to worry about."
"Okay, well… goodnight," she said brightly, before closing her door.
Joey scoffed. "You know what? She's like an Italian Anna Evans."
"Oh, geez," Pacey groaned as he stepped inside the apartment. All was dark, and he flipped some light switches.
"Hey, I call it like I see it," she quipped.
He turned to look at her. Their eyes met and held. A thousand unspoken words filled the space between them. She thought she saw the hurt in his eyes from earlier, or maybe it was frustration from her jealous reaction to Melanie in the foyer. Then he sighed and made for the stairs. Her face fell, and she inwardly chided herself for her behavior today.
Joey climbed the stairs after him and followed him to the bedroom. The stars twinkled on the ceiling for a moment before Pacey turned on a light. She wordlessly sat on the bed and undid the black straps of her shoes. Swallowing, her stomach in knots, she kicked off her heels and stood up. "Pace…"
He turned to look at her, his fingers still at the buttons of his blue shirt. He said nothing, and gave her an expectant look.
"I'm really sorry. I…" Her throat closed up. Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them away. Unable to meet his gaze, she hung her head and nervously played with her fingers. "I, um… I don't know what's wrong with me."
His earlier conversation with Doug was still going round and round in circles in his head. Pacey closed the distance between them. He gently held her chin with his fingertips. "Joey, look at me." As he tilted her head up, she opened her eyes and met his steady gaze. "Do you really think I would cheat on you?"
"No." His fingers dropped from her face, and she had to close her eyes to keep from falling into the depths of his. "I think you would love me until you got bored or fed up with me, or until someone prettier came along, someone more experienced with sex, someone or something… better than me. Which probably wouldn't take long because lots of girls are better than me at lots of things. There will always be something out there that's better than me. I know I'm not enough." Joey felt the tears start to fill her eyes.
His arms went around her and she felt herself being pulled into the strong warmth of his chest. He didn't speak as he held her, his face pressed against hers. It felt so good to be in his arms.
Tiny worry lines spread out from the corners of Pacey's eyes. "Not enough..." He pulled back to look at her. "That's what you think? You're more than enough. You're everything. You're my whole world, Jo. I just spent the last two and a half months without you. And that's no life. I spent the whole time wishing you were there with me. Because as great and wonderful as it is to be sailing around the Caribbean, it's nothing without you. It's nothing. Life is nothing without you. I'm nothing without you."
"Pacey, that is so not true," she cried. "I mean, I saw you at that party. Charming everyone, as usual."
"Yeah? I was bored out of my mind, wondering where the hell you were."
"Oh, well… I was in the kitchen eating cheesecake with Jen."
"I… you what?"
"Anyway, that's not important. You could be so much more, Pacey. There's so much more that life can offer you than living in a crime-infested neighborhood, across the street from some shitty bar, for the next four years just so you can be with me."
His face hardened, and he tensed. "What did James say to you?"
Taken aback, she shook her head. "What? Nothing. Honestly, he didn't say anything like that."
He saw in her eyes she was telling the truth, and he nodded. Relief spread through him.
"You deserve so much more than this," she said, her voice choking on emotion. "You do."
"I'm just afraid, Pacey. I don't want my heart broken," she sniffled.
"No one does, Jo," he murmured. "I won't break it."
Joey bit her lip and then stroked her fingertips down his jawline. "But what am I supposed to do when you leave me?"
"How about trust that I won't?" he countered.
She leaned her head into his shoulder, and let him hold her. She could hear his breath in the quiet room. He held her tighter.
"Don't let me go," she whispered. "If you're asking me to trust you, you can't ever let me go."
"I've got you," he promised. "I'm never letting go."
The heavy emotions had taken their toll on both of them, weighing them down, and though pure love was at the heart of every moment they shared, they knew they needed to have sex as soon as possible. Maybe they just needed to make love and feel close, reaffirm their commitment to each other.
Joey needed to claim Pacey's lips with hers, hold him to her body, her legs straddling hips, his throbbing length buried in her heat. She needed… she needed… him.
God, she needed him.
"Kiss me."
Pacey smiled as she lifted her mouth, and he bent his head. He kissed her slow, long, and hard. She returned his passionate kisses. Every molecule in her body seemed to ache for him. His fingers went to the zipper on her dress, and soon it was off and tossed to the floor.
"So, how about that shower I promised you this morning? We can test the hot water."
Pacey's voice vibrated along her nerve endings. Deep, gravelly yet soft, and so damn sexy, he could probably make a fortune doing voiceovers for commercials. Whatever products he'd be selling were sure to fly off the shelves. He could have his very own call-in radio show, or be an operator for one of those one-nine-hundred numbers. She suddenly imagined him lounging in the sun on that huge yacht in the middle of the Caribbean Sea, and saw him back at that party at the Moore Mansion. That smile of his and those ocean-blue eyes and that voice curling the toes of every female who looked his way.
Joey blinked as he raised a dark brow, and she realized she hadn't answered his question. "A shower sounds good."
She walked out of the bedroom, stripping off her bra as she went, Pacey following behind her, through the small living area, and into the bathroom. The clawfoot tub was large enough to fit two of her, and there were so many showerheads in the shower, which was the size of a walk-in closet, that she'd been afraid the water would wash her away the first time she'd stepped into it.
Joey piled her hair on top of her head, suddenly breathless as hot water shot from four different jets. Pacey stood off to the side and adjusted the temperature. The vanilla liquid soap smelled wonderful and she slathered it over her body, stifling a groan as the purely feminine part of her throbbed with desire and an aching need that surprised her with its intensity. A gasp escaped from her throat as large hands slid gently but possessively over her flat belly and her round breasts. His fingers lingered with exquisite care on nipples so delicately sensitized to his touch they were hot wired to that yearning pulse between her legs.
"You are so sexy," Pacey whispered into her ear. His fingertips adored her breasts, her waistline, and the feminine flaring of her hips. Every part of her was perfect and womanly—her thighs, her belly, and her mouth that he knew he would never tire of lavishing with kisses.
The man, Joey thought with a low moan, had magic fingers.
Steam filled the room. Her nipples burned and ached for the relief of his mouth, as he teased them with his fingertips to tight, hard peaks. Heat scorched over her sensitive skin wherever he touched her. Her breath caught as he kissed and licked the back of her neck, and his arousal, thick and hard, pressed into the small of her back. Lust detonated between her legs as he turned her in his arms and pressed her back against the shower wall, capturing her mouth with his, even as her nipples grazed his chest.
She parted her lips to allow his thrusting tongue access. God, he tasted so good. This time there was nothing gentle in his kiss. There was power, possession, and a relentless hunger. That hunger called to her, and she answered it with a desperation that surprised her. Was she the one making those high, keening moans? Her ardor matched his—kiss for kiss, touch for touch. When his fingers slipped between her thighs, slid around her screaming little bud of nerve endings, her legs gave out as the orgasm took her breath away.
"Put your legs around my waist," he muttered in her ear, his voice was deep, the tone harsh, as he caught her mouth with his and lifted her into his arms. Just the idea of burying himself inside Joey, the grip of her tight muscles squeezing every last drop from him, spiraled Pacey's desire higher. His balls flooded, drew tight to his body.
Then, thank God, he was inside her, finally sliding his needy cock into her sweet pussy.
He thrust, long, hard, consuming, and claiming every inch inside her. So warm. So tight. So fucking perfect. They both watched the spot where their bodies connected, riveted by that thick, erotic slide. Then Pacey's eyes locked onto Joey's, the ecstasy in her expression making his mouth hard with lust. But there was more in their sealed gazes. There was the pure intimacy of looking at someone. Truly seeing each other and knowing that this was the person you were meant for.
Joey clung to him, legs around his waist and arms around his neck, as he pumped his hips, thrusting into her, panting desperate words against her mouth. Nothing was better than this feeling of having the man she loved deep inside her, his body becoming one with hers on every blistering stroke. The soft slap of their bodies colliding blended with the rhythmic patter of the water splashing from the showerheads, creating the perfect sensual soundtrack to their passion.
Together they soared higher and higher to a place she had never known existed before being with him. The inner muscles contracting at her center clutched him again and again as waves of throbbing pleasure surged from her pulsating clit through her entire body. She never wanted it to end. Shaking uncontrollably, her climax came at her in a blinding rush. The world went black as her mind splintered into a thousand stars.
Their hearts hammering as one, she realized Pacey was bearing her weight as well as leaning a hand against the wall for support. Their panting breaths mingled. Their mouths united in a hungry crash, a precursor to needing every other part of them to be joined. Chests, hips. Hearts. She dug her fingers into his back, rocking, taking every inch of him. And then her clit was pulsing, pulsing into another orgasm that squeezed his cock tight, so tightly, again and again. He felt a river of warmth flow over his pulsing cock and a loud moan of his own was ripped from his throat. The intensity and the steam was nearly suffocating, and he was about to go flying over the edge.
Pacey's face contorted in a grimace of sublime pleasure, and he stilled for a moment, his throbbing cock buried to the hilt in her clenching pussy. Then he shuddered, moaning into the soft spot under her ear. His every muscle vibrated with his own orgasm. Eyes sealed shut, he saw fireworks that would rival the brightest Fourth of July display. Joey, feeling the intimate pulses of his hot release deep inside her, convulsed again.
Pressing soft kisses to his shoulder, she clung to him as the water, now cool, battered their skin. Pacey pushed the hair back from his face, and those dark blue eyes framed with wet lashes studied her carefully. She was dazed, in a fog of pleasure, gazing at him with a look of pure bliss. He grinned as a hot flush rose from her toes to flood her neck and cheeks.
"I love it when you look at me like that," he said, his voice husky and soft. His fingertips stroked a burning path down the curve of her breast to a bullet hard nipple.
"I love it when you make me come like that," she murmured playfully, and then he pressed his lips to hers in a slow, passionate kiss.
Blindly and on legs that were far from steady, Joey moved out of his arms, and out of the shower. With a shudder, she wrapped herself in a towel. A moment later, Pacey joined her, wrapping a towel around his waist. Wordlessly, they moved around the room. He watched her pull on his blue bathrobe and dry her hair with a towel. It felt intimate and quietly domestic, like they were an old married couple, and he relished every second of it.
Later, as they lay in bed together, Pacey held Joey in his arms. He hands gently cradled her face, his thumbs caressing her in affectionate circles. "There will never be anyone better than you," he whispered. "There could never be anyone better than you. I could never be happy with anyone else. It's always been you, and it will always be you."
Raw emotion welled up inside her. "I love you so much, Pacey."
"I know. And I know that's why you act crazy sometimes."
She watched his mouth curve into a teasing grin. She rolled her eyes at herself and her foolishness. Her fingertips traced his jawline down to his chin. "What would I ever do without you?" she whispered.
"That's not the right question, Jo. The question is, what would we do without each other? I don't know what you would do without me. Or what I would do without you. Let's never find out."
Pacey kissed her sweetly, softly, and his kiss was full of comfort. Then Joey tucked herself against him, snuggling into his arms. He closed his eyes, the scent of vanilla and the feel of her skin a sensory heaven. With stars twinkling on the ceiling above them, almost simultaneously they fell asleep.