A/N: 1) This chapter contains sexually explicit material.
2) To the "Guest" who thinks this is just a Dawson bashing story and that Pacey and Joey were the real jerks and blah blah bitchcakes and can find no other comment to leave than negative ones, no one is forcing you to fucking read this. I spend hours of my personal time every week writing this because I love Dawson's Creek and I love writing, and it also provides me the kind of escape I need right now as I work in healthcare and this pandemic is KICKING MY ASS. I don't need to see your fucking bullshit in the reviews. In fact, no author does. Fandom creatives provide content FOR FREE, using their own time and energy that could easily be spent on something else. Even if this was a Dawson-bashing fic, which it's not, then there would be nothing wrong with that because I can write whatever the hell I want. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's as simple as. Go read a different fic, or better yet, write your own. That's how I got started writing fic back in 2014. I didn't like what I was reading and the fic out there wasn't giving me what I wanted, so I decided to write the story I wanted to read. So, before you feel compelled to leave another shitty comment, just hit the back button and go do something else with your time.
To everyone else, I hope you enjoy the update!
February 18. Pacey woke in the wee hours of Sunday morning to Joey curled on his side, her fingers making lazy circles on his chest, and his dick demanding attention again. She was awake. He could tell by the way she was breathing. "Can't sleep?"
She shook her head.
"What do you need, Jo?"
She rose up and straddled his hips. "You," she whispered in his shadowed bedroom.
"You got me, sweetheart." His voice was shaky, already rough with need.
She grabbed a condom, removed it from its wrapper, and rolled it down his cock. "I can't believe how much I want you after what we did just a few hours ago." Not to mention what they'd done earlier in the day after they'd eaten the pancake breakfast that she had made for him, and then again after lunch, and again later on in the afternoon…
"I always want you, Jo."
She murmured her agreement as she gripped his cock and, without hesitation, positioned him and sank down, taking him to the root. She hissed.
He looked up at her, concerned. "Sore?"
Not really. Well, not enough to stop, and she didn't want him to. "No, I'm fine." Joey fell forward, her hair falling around her face and his, and she kissed him, matching the way she stroked his tongue with the way she rolled her hips.
He gripped them and lifted his, meeting hers, taking her even deeper. "That okay?"
She nodded, her hair tickling his chest. "So good, Pacey. It's like our bodies were made for each other."
He'd thought the same thing since the first time he sank inside her, and every time since. It wasn't just their bodies, though. All of her, inside and out, was made for all of him.
Joey started moving faster, inner muscles tightly clenching over and over.
"Oh, baby, you're gonna come for me already?"
"Yes. Oh God." She fell forward and kissed him again.
Pacey wrapped his arms around her, rolled her to her back, and took over. His gaze locked with hers, and neither of them could look away. He watched as she came for him, her lips parting before she called out his name. The way she convulsed around him set him off. He went with her, burying his face against the side of her throat, chanting her name over and over as he came hard for the second time that night.
Joey kept her arms around him, soft hands moving over his back, stroking his skin as he continued to roll into her gently, savoring every last second that he got to be inside her. He slid his mouth up the side of her neck and along her jaw, and sucked on that soft spot behind her ear, chuckling when she squirmed.
"I love you," he said, the words welling up from his heart, sounding wise and beautiful, and so very right. Nothing, no one had ever felt so right. "I love you." He slowly collapsed onto her, taking as much weight on his arms to spare her.
Joey was having none of that. Instead, she pulled him tightly to her and kissed him along his throat, nipping at him playfully. "Stay," she whispered when he would have moved.
"I'm too heavy."
"Stay."
Pacey sighed and let her take a bit more of his weight. The heated scent of their bodies was as potent as alcohol. Strength flowed into him. With an arm around her, he turned them to the side, placing her leg over his hip so they could remain connected a little while longer.
An eternity of contentment went by.
Joey woke to the smell of coffee. She opened her eyes. God, that smells good, she thought to herself. Turning her head to look at the clock on his bedside stand, she saw that Pacey must have already been to the B&B and back. For a moment she almost felt surprised that his five o'clock alarm had never woken her, but then reasoned on her body's need for sleep after an exhausting day. She stretched out on the bed they had made love in twice the previous night and smiled to herself. Although she felt some soreness, her body felt so satisfied, and she reveled in the feeling.
Sitting up and scanning the room, she took in the drawing of Dumbo, a gift from her mother for his eighth birthday, and then the painting that hung next to it on his bedroom wall. The one she'd done sophomore year of her mother in a red dress, barefoot on the beach, that he'd purchased at the Capeside Family Fun Fair. The memory of her mother was still vivid, of that summer day they'd spent at Ridgevale Beach, before she'd ended up in the hospital for the first time. Pacey had most likely bought the painting because he wanted to do something nice for her, to support her burgeoning talent, or perhaps to have something of hers for sentimental reasons, but there had been several other paintings and drawings to choose from. She knew he'd chosen this one for its subject—Pacey had loved her mother.
Then Joey's gaze fell on the familiar blue plaid bathrobe and a pair of warm fuzzy socks that had been laid at the foot of the bed. A pleasant warmth flowed through her. After a quick stop in the bathroom, she followed her nose to the kitchen to see him standing over the stove. Her heart fluttered.
"Good morning."
Pacey turned, and a warm smile spread across his face at the sight of her. Pure pleasure and contentment filled his chest as she came towards him wearing his robe. "Good morning," he said, handing her a cup of black coffee with a kiss.
Joey set the cup on the counter and pulled him into her arms, hugging him affectionately. She held him for a long moment and sighed contentedly.
He smiled over her shoulder as his arms wrapped around her body. "What's this for, huh?" he murmured.
"I don't know. I'm just happy. Do I need a reason to hug you?" she smirked as she pulled out of the embrace.
"No. You can hug me all you want, whenever you want."
"Good. I will."
She picked up her cup of coffee and drank. "Mmm. So good."
Pacey watched her move over to the small table and then saw her wince as she sat down. "Are you okay, Jo?"
She shrugged, not meeting his gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine."
He didn't buy it. "No, you're sore. Why didn't you tell me last night when I asked you?"
Sighing, she gave him a chastised look. "Because I thought that you would stop."
"Well, I probably wouldn't have," he confessed. "Not unless you told me to." He walked over to the table with his own cup of coffee and sat down. He reached for her hand. "Joey, you do know that I'll stop if you ever tell me to, right? That you can say no if you ever don't want to do it? That just because we're having sex now doesn't mean we always have to?"
She saw the sincerity of his words in the expression on his face. And in his eyes. Those ocean-blue eyes that spoke volumes. Emotion tightened her throat. She couldn't speak, so she nodded.
"Remember that I'm in love with you, Jo—all of you, everything you do. Sex is… sex is just the whipped cream and cherry on top of the sundae. Okay?"
Lifting her cup, she took a sip of her coffee, and swallowed against the lump of emotion. "Okay," she smiled.
He stood up from the table, caressing her face with the back of his fingers, and returned to the stove. "Do you want some Tylenol or anything?" he asked. "I think we got some in the bathroom cabinet."
"No, I'm all right." She watched as he cracked some eggs into a bowl. Oh, he was so incredibly kind. Wonderful. Perfect. Too perfect. Too wonderful. What had she ever done to deserve him?
Nothing, she told herself, as she watched him begin to scramble the eggs. Memories of their youth and how she had treated him washed over her, thoughts of how different those years might have been if she'd only allowed him to get close to her. She knew in her heart that he would've loved her as he did now, if only she had let him. You don't deserve him in the very least.
All of a sudden, the phone rang, and Pacey stepped away from the stove to answer it. His gaze met Joey's as he lifted the receiver, a silent conversation passing between them, and she shrugged. He answered with furrowed brows, not knowing who would be calling at half-past eight on a Sunday. A slight sense of panic rose as he briefly considered that it might be his mother. "Hello?"
"Hi, Pacey."
"Oh, hey, Bessie. What's up? Is there a problem with the guests? Mrs. Russo was kinda cranky this morning."
"Oh, no, Pacey. Everything's fine. Can you tell Joey that the yacht club called here for her and she's supposed to call them right away?"
Placing his hand over the mouth of the receiver, and speaking in a hushed voice, he gave Joey the message. "Who called from the yacht club?" she asked him.
Pacey asked Bessie the same question.
"I can't be sure, but it might've been her boss."
"Okay, Bessie. I'll tell her." After hanging up, he walked the phone over to Joey, the long spiral cord stretching. "She thinks it might've been Satan's handmaiden who called."
Joey took the phone from him and glanced at the clock. Her shift started at ten. She dialed the number to the yacht club and when the receptionist answered, she asked to speak to Mrs. Valentine. After being put on hold for almost five minutes, the line finally picked up again.
"Carolyn Valentine speaking."
"Hi, Mrs. Valentine. It's Joey Potter. Did you call for me?"
"Oh, yes, Miss Potter. I just wanted to let you know that you don't need to come into work this morning."
"Oh." She glanced at Pacey, who'd returned to the stove and was looking at her with interest. "Um… okay…?"
"Yes. In fact, you won't need to come in ever again."
Her mouth fell open. "W—what?"
"Well, of course I hate having to do this over the phone, but we can't do this in my office seeing as there's no need for you to come in today, now is there?"
Joey put her hand on her forehead. "No, I guess not," she spat.
"I'm sure you can understand, Miss Potter. I can't allow you to continue to play games with my son and lead him into folly. I know you're unfamiliar with the concept in your own life, but a parent must protect their children. So, you are no longer welcome here at Capeside Yacht Club. I hope that clears up any confusion on your part."
"I'm sorry… what?!"
"You're a dirty, nasty girl, and you should be ashamed for taunting my son into such behavior. And another thing, when Drue returns to school, you and that trigger-happy boyfriend of yours better keep away from him, or you can kiss any sort of future plans to be at Worthington goodbye."
She had no idea what to say.
"You can pick up your last check on Friday." And then Mrs. Valentine hung up.
She lowered the phone and looked at Pacey. "I think I was just fired."
He pursed his lips in anger at her now ex-employer. "Because of Drue? Because he was expelled?"
"It's my fault, you know. For being the wanton hussy I am, and leading her angel of a son into wrongdoing. Who the hell knows what he told her?" She shook her head and stood up, bringing the phone back to its mount on the kitchen wall.
"No, it's my fault." He frowned as he turned the heat off under the cooked eggs. Maybe Dawson had a point about letting her fill out Drue's quiz. He hadn't thought about the consequences, or considered the guy's possible motives for even contriving the game in the first place. "If I hadn't talked you into doing that stupid quiz on the bus, this never would've happened. I wouldn't have in-school suspension next week, and you'd still have a job."
Joey came up behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and laid her cheek on his shoulder. She felt him inhale deeply and relax. Then she lifted her mouth to his ear. "Working with Drue and his mother wasn't exactly a dream job, Pace. More like a hostile environment most of the time."
He shrugged. "Yeah, but you made good money."
She kissed his hair. "Don't worry. I'll find another job." She smiled and pressed her body tighter to his. "But not this week. This week I'm going to enjoy having nothing to do and no one to see but you."
Pacey turned in her arms, smiling, and kissed her softly.
Later, when they'd finished eating breakfast, Joey emerged from the shower, and after getting dressed, she came down to the living room to see Pacey sitting bent over his tackle box on the coffee table, his fishing pole leaning against the couch. "I'm going fishing with Buzz," he said, looking up at her. "I had made plans with the kid when I thought you'd be working today, and I can't cancel on him."
"That's okay."
"Do you wanna come along?"
Her face scrunched up. "No, thank you."
"I didn't think so," he chuckled, then he laughed harder. "Remember when Mitch would take me and Dawson fishing, and your dad would make you go with us? Jesus, you'd complain the entire time. You would not shut up."
Eyes widening, the forgotten memories came back to her. "Oh, my goodness. He'd make us walk for miles and then we'd just sit for hours and sometimes nobody would catch a single fish. I mean, what was the point? An entire day wasted. God, it was so boring."
He kept laughing for a moment. "Well, fishing taught me to be a patient man."
Then she pouted. "How long will you be?"
"Oh, a few hours. It's probably a good idea for us to…" he eyed her. "Well, for us to be otherwise distracted for a while, unlike yesterday. Are you sure you don't want any pain reliever?"
Her frown deepened and she crossed her arms. "See? This is why I didn't want to say anything."
He threw up his hands in surrender. "Anyway, I'm not going far, Jo." He turned and pointed to the sliding glass door. "See the water? I won't be out of your sight. Buzz's mom will be dropping him off pretty soon."
"You're gonna fish in your backyard?"
"Well, the pond is right there. Convenient, isn't it?" he grinned. "Maybe I'll catch us some lunch. So, what are you going to occupy yourself with?"
She pursed her lips and shrugged. "I don't know. I might finally answer my dad's letter."
Then he stood up from the couch and moved across the room into the hallway, where he opened the closet. He pulled out a long, thin black canvas bag and carried it back over to her. "For you."
She smiled curiously and took it from his hands, then watched him return to the closet, where he pulled out a sixteen-by-twenty blank painting canvas. "Here," he said as he carried it over. "I saw the art supplies box you brought with you, and I thought you might like to paint something."
"This is great! Thank you." She stepped forward, lifting her face to offer a kiss, and his lips sweetly met hers.
Soon there was a knock on the front door, and Mrs. Thompson was there dropping off Buzz. Joey watched as the ten-year-old's eyes lit up at the sight of Pacey, and her heart warmed as he took Buzz by the shoulder and led him out the back door and toward the water. From her duffel bag upstairs, she grabbed her paints and brushes, and returned to the living room. Bending over the couch, she unzipped the black bag and took out an easel, which had been disassembled to fit inside it. It took about five minutes to put it together, and she placed the easel in what she figured was the best light.
Setting down her second cup of coffee, she laid out a palette and her paints on a high table to her right, brushes and palette knife, a small jar of paint thinner. She set the blank canvas on the easel, and grabbed a chair from the kitchen table. All she had to do was get started. Taking a deep breath, she stared at the canvas. Then she closed her eyes in an attempt to visualize a scene, any scene, or a mood, a feeling, anything that would get her creative juices flowing.
She found she couldn't focus on any one thing. Her mind drifted to the letter from her father, still unanswered, to the painting of her mother in Pacey's bedroom, to other more delicious thoughts of his bedroom. Looking out through the sliding glass door, her gaze fell on him and Buzz, bundled up in their coats, casting fishing lines into the water. She smiled.
Memories of Pacey at a young age again came back to her, of the boy who'd tried so many times in his own way to get close to her, the boy who'd been constantly rejected by the sarcastic, angry shell of a girl too afraid to love and then lose anything else irreplaceable. And yet he kept on trying. If she only knew then, what she knew now. Sadness welled up inside her as she let the memories wash over her.
Picking up a brush, she dipped it into the black paint, took a deep breath, and began.
After a few hours, and no luck, Pacey decided to pack it in, and he and Buzz started walking back from the waterfront toward the house. As they neared the back porch, he looked through the glass and saw Joey painting. She was a study in concentration. Her brush moved across the canvas with deliberate precision, her eyes focused, never drifting to his. When he stepped onto the porch, he noticed the tip of her tongue peeking out from between her lips.
Which filled his mind with her kisses, kisses he'd never forget for as long as he lived. Her lips were soft and sensual, the gliding touch of her tongue electrifying. Mastering control over his thoughts, he reached the sliding glass door and opened it. When he stepped inside, Joey looked up, and he immediately took in her paint-stained hands, a smudge of gray on her cheek, and bit back a grin.
"Hard at work?"
"Something like that," she smiled.
"Can I see it?" Buzz asked.
She shook her head. "An artist never reveals their work before it's finished."
Pacey's brows arched. "How about a peek?"
"Absolutely not."
Draping a bed sheet that she'd retrieved from the linen closet over the easel, she stepped away from her work in progress. "So, did you catch anything?"
"A couple small ones that we threw back," Buzz answered with a shrug. "Nothing big enough to keep."
"I told the kid I'd take him to McDonald's for lunch. You wanna come?"
Joey considered the offer. "Sure. I could eat."
After they had lunch and then dropped Buzz off at home, they were back on the road. "Why don't we stop and pick up some food? I can make dinner later," Pacey suggested.
She eyed him with a little smile. "You're going to make me dinner?"
"I'm going to make dinner and you can have some. It's for the both of us. Don't make a big deal out of it. Cooking isn't a big deal," he said, trying to hide a smile.
"You always need to feed everyone," she teased him as she pulled the truck into the grocery store parking lot.
"It's not the worst problem to have."
She watched him reach for the door handle, another memory striking her. "My mom used to say that."
Pacey turned and looked at her with furrowed brows. "Say what?"
"My dad would tell her that she always needed to feed everyone, and she'd tell him it wasn't the worst problem to have."
"Huh." He racked his brain for a moment, and then smiled. "Yeah, that does sound familiar. Probably from those times I'd come by the Ice House and end up eating back in the kitchen."
They got out of the truck, and he took her hand as they walked toward the store entrance. "Know what else your mom used to say? She'd say that cooking was like love—it should be entered into with abandon, or not at all."
She smirked at him. "I'm pretty sure she was quoting Julia Child."
"You know, it's a damn shame the Ice House burned down. Someone should really fix it up."
Joey shrugged. "Maybe someone will eventually."
"Yeah, but I doubt it'd still be the Ice House. They'll probably do something horrid to it, like bulldoze it to build a Starbucks." He shuddered.
Chewing on her lip, she wondered if she should broach the subject again or not, but then went for it. "Well… you could fix it up."
He threw her a look of disbelief. "Me? What the hell do I know about running a restaurant?"
"Think about it, Pace. You helped fix up our house into a B&B. So, you know the basics of renovation, anyway, and…" She hesitated, chewing on her lip again. "Well, if you went to culinary school and did a hospitality management program, then you'd know exactly how to run a restaurant."
"Not this again." He hung his head.
"Would you just consider the possibilities that are out there for you?"
He heaved a sigh. "Okay, fine. Let's consider them. You think I should go to school, then come back here and fix up and run the Ice House?"
Smiling at him, she shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"And where do you fit into this picture, Josephine? Are you planning on coming back here after you're done with college and spending the rest of your life in Capeside?"
"Well, no, of course not."
"But you want me to come back here? Without you? Okay, then."
The tone of his voice knotted her stomach. She could feel the tension, a fight brewing beneath the surface, waiting in the wings if she were to say the wrong thing. "That's… not what I meant, Pacey," she said, a sense of panic rising up inside her.
"I mean, it doesn't have to be the Ice House. It could be any restaurant, anywhere. I just wanted you to think about what you could do with your life. You should put your good talents to use. You know, have a personal goal that you can work towards. Something that would make you happy and… give you a sense of fulfillment."
Taking a deep breath, he smiled at her as they approached the automatic doors. "I already have that with you. Besides, cooking isn't a real talent. It's… it's just cooking. Now, art… that's a real talent."
She scoffed, wishing he wouldn't play down his gifts as if they were meaningless. She wanted to tell him he should have something in his life other than her, but thought better than voicing that aloud. At least right now. "But art is just a hobby. It's not something I can do as a career."
Once inside, he pushed the cart while they loaded it with ingredients and other items they'd need for the week. "We have to get more condoms," she said quietly while he put a box of sugary-coated cereal in the shopping cart. "We're almost out."
He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "You still sore?"
"Yes, but I like the feeling, Pacey. It's like having an itch, but when you scratch it, it feels good."
"Hmm." He started pushing the cart down the aisle. "But sometimes you can have an itch and if you scratch it too much, you'll bleed. Know what I'm saying?"
She threw him a look. "I'm not going to start bleeding." Then she paused, and remembered the birth control pack in her toiletry bag. "On second thought, I think I'll need to get tampons. Unless Gretchen has some at the house?"
He stared at her. "You're asking the wrong person. I would assume so, but…" He shrugged.
When they reached the feminine hygiene aisle, she placed a box of tampons in the cart. Then she frowned at him. "I'm sorry if this will… put a damper on our week together."
"What will?" he asked, confused.
"You know… me getting my cycle."
"That's not a problem. I'll just make sure there's plenty of chocolate in the house," he grinned.
She smiled and rolled her eyes. "But… I mean, there'll probably be a few days where sex is off the table."
He turned to her, his face becoming serious. "Joey, do you remember what I said to you this morning?"
She nodded, swallowing.
"Well, then, there's nothing to apologize for, is there?"
She watched him push the cart toward the shelves housing the condoms, feeling slightly amazed. "This stuff really doesn't bother you, does it, Pace? I could probably write 'tampons' on a shopping list and you'd go to the store and buy them for me, wouldn't you?"
He looked at her again, confused. "What stuff? You mean you being a human woman? No, it doesn't bother me, Jo."
"Most of the guys in school are grossed by just the idea of girls' periods, though." Then she laughed. "One time, Dawson saw a tampon in my backpack and you'd think he'd come across something infected with the bubonic plague."
He rolled his eyes. "Maybe if Dawson had had sisters, he could've learned some things. As you know I have three, and Gretchen and I shared a bedroom until she was fourteen." He shrugged again. "And yes, if you needed me to run to the store to buy them for you, I would."
"Pacey Witter, friend to women."
"That's me," he laughed.
Standing in front of the condoms, he grabbed a box of Durex Maximums and dropped it in the cart. "Um, were you planning on us having sex later? I mean, today?"
She smirked at him. "I sure hope so."
"But just how sore are you? Be honest, please."
"I'm a little sore, but it's not that bad. Not enough to prevent me from doing what I really wanna be doing right now."
With a skeptical look, he turned from her to look at the display again. Then he tossed some lube in the cart. She rolled her eyes and laughed breathlessly as they walked away.
They continued going up and down the aisles, and Joey hissed an enthusiastic, "Yes!" when he threw some bacon into the cart.
At the checkout, she held out her cash and pushed his debit card away playfully. "You fry, I'll buy," she joked.
He chuckled, but handed his card over to the cashier. "Between the two of us, who still has a job? Put your money away, Potter."
Back inside the truck, he glanced over at her as she drove in the direction of his house. He reached over and brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers. "You wanna tell me about this painting you're working on?"
She leaned into his caress and grinned at him. "Nope."
"Come on. One little hint?"
"Okay. It's a memory."
"Your memory?"
"Of course."
"Good or bad?"
She thought for a moment. "That's a simple question with a complicated answer."
He nodded, thinking over her response. "When do you think it'll be finished?"
"Oh, probably in a couple days."
After arriving back at the beach house, they both started quietly working together to put away the groceries. He smiled as he watched Joey put his box of sugary cereal in one of the cupboards. It felt intimate and domestic, like they were a married couple, like she truly lived here with him, and he relished every second of it. Their eyes would meet and they'd smile before putting an item in the refrigerator or inside a cabinet. The air in the room subtly changed, becoming electric.
When the last of the groceries were put away, Joey reached for him, and Pacey wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She closed her eyes and felt his lips grazing hers. She pulled away. She gazed at him and recognized the look in his eyes, the same look he no doubt saw in hers. Hunger for their emotional and physical connection. Yet she also saw hesitant concern.
She kissed him again, pressing against him with a force that communicated that she never wanted him to let her go, that she never wanted him to stop. Anticipating her desires, Pacey moved his lips to her neck and slipped his hand under her sweater, caressing her breasts.
She leaned away and looked into his eyes again. The hesitancy was gone, and they were darkening with lust. Without another word passing between them, she grabbed the lube and box of condoms from the counter, took his hand, and led him upstairs and down the hallway. In the doorway of his bedroom, they lingered, kissing. He pulled her sweater over her head and she slid her hand underneath his shirt, running her fingers over his chest. As they moved towards his bed, any concern over her soreness faded away.
Later, after Pacey returned from the bathroom, she watched his nude body move across the room, his penis bouncing as he walked. He slid back into bed, a seductive smile on his lips. Her pulse leapt. As often as she'd seen him without clothes over the past several months, and even more in the last two weeks, she was certain she'd never get tired of seeing him naked. He was too beautiful.
She kissed his cheek, and then got up and grabbed his long-sleeved Boston Bruins shirt laying on the old trunk at the foot of the bed. She slipped it over her head and inhaled his scent.
He looked at her and frowned, his body responding to the sight of her in his shirt. "Why do you have to look so good in my clothes?"
She eyed him, sitting up in bed with his back against a pillow, naked underneath the sheet. "Why do you have to look so good without your clothes?"
"Don't tempt me, Joey," he said darkly. "It's taking all of my willpower right now to give our bodies a break instead of pulling you back on this bed and ravishing you all over again."
She blushed and shook her head. Sure, she was still a bit sore, but it was a delicious soreness. One she'd willingly endure again and again. "Well, hopefully I can tempt you later."
The sound of Pacey's long-suffering groan as she stepped out of the bedroom made her giggle. As she walked, the tenderness between her legs was more pronounced, but she smiled as her body felt the effects of his passionate possession. In the bathroom, she emptied her bladder, washed up, and then looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was disheveled and the light amount of mascara she'd put on that morning was smeared. In short, she looked a mess. She should've felt self-conscious or embarrassed, but instead she felt confident and secure.
Pacey made her feel beautiful and desirable. There was nothing to feel insecure about, and all her hang-ups about herself were now starting to seem silly and unnecessary. What she saw in the mirror looked completely different through Pacey's eyes. Closing her own eyes, she called back the images of Pacey over her, under her, behind her, inside her, stroking deep, his mouth and hands and cock making sweet love to her. Ever since she'd arrived at the house on Friday, the past two days had been complete and utter bliss.
Laughing at her reflection, she washed her face and ran her fingers through her hair. It was amazing to think about how much had changed in the short time since the ski trip. How the fears and insecurities that had weighed her down had now seemingly melted away with the intensity of their love, now that it could be physically expressed. Fears and insecurities that had become quickly replaced with a near constant aching need for him. There were quite a lot of condoms in the bathroom garbage can, and while making a mental note to be sure the bag was thrown away before Gretchen came home, she felt warmth spread through her body and found herself wanting him again. It was as if her suppressed sexual desire for Pacey had been held back by a dam built from the tragic circumstances of her past and the uncertainty of her future. And now that dam was broken, there was no stopping the flood.
She returned to his room and plopped on the bed, crawling back into the warm blissful haven beneath the sheets. The afternoon light poured in through his bedroom windows. Despite the cold winter day, the sun shone brightly in the sky. Pacey beamed that charming smile on her, his blue eyes bright and happy. His brown curls were tousled, and there was still a flush in his cheeks. He definitely had that just-been-fucked look. He also clearly hadn't shaved in several days, and the scruff made him even more alluring.
Joey sat up on her knees, suddenly feeling inspired. "Um…" she began, blushing. "Is it okay if I draw you?"
"What?" he laughed. "Right now?"
"Yeah," she said, nodding enthusiastically. "I want to draw you."
His face flushed hot and he grinned. "Sure."
Smiling widely, she got out of bed and went over to her duffel bag, where she'd laid her wooden box of art supplies on the floor beside it. She pulled out her sketchpad and some pencils. Then pulling the weathered old travel trunk away from the footboard, she sat down on it, facing him.
"Well, how do you want me?"
"How do I want you? Um… I want you… all over me, actually," she teased.
His body tightened, more blood flowing to his groin, and his eyes narrowed. "You're not helping."
She snickered as she opened the sketchbook and set it down on her lap.
"What kind of pose do you want me in?"
Her eyes gazed over him, sitting cross-legged up in bed, pillows behind his back, his posture relaxed beneath the sheet. "You're perfect just like that. I promise to be quick, but I want you to be comfortable and in a position that you can hold for about twenty minutes."
"Okay."
She chewed on her lip. "Can you, uh, remove the bed sheet?"
His face reddened. "You want me naked?"
"Always," she smirked.
"Still not helping, Potter."
Sucking on his bottom lip, he pushed the sheet off his lap until he pulled one leg free.
"Stop!" she commanded, holding up her hand. The way he sat there, totally relaxed, his chest and abdomen bare, one leg bent at the knee. The sheet was wrapped about his other leg and his sex was just barely exposed. "That's it."
He smiled sheepishly as he looked down at himself and his semi-erect cock.
Then she began to study his face. Under her scrutinizing gaze, he found it difficult to maintain eye contact, frequently averting his gaze away from her. When their eyes met again, she saw it. His eyes were so open, so vulnerable. She was the only one in the world privy to this side of him. His walls were down, and looking out at her was the emotional man he kept hidden behind his glib sarcasm, behind his defense mechanisms masquerading as jokes. The man who wanted nothing more in the whole world than for her to love him. The image of the young boy behind his blue eyes flashed in her memory. Taking a deep breath, her drawing pencil began to move unerringly across the paper.
Silence settled over the bedroom. The only things Pacey heard were the sounds of his own breathing and the scratch of Joey's pencil moving across the sketchpad on her knees. She looked deep in thought, as if she was lost in another world while she was drawing. Then she'd smirk at him, and he'd blush. He might want to consider saying no whenever she asked him to do something. Except he couldn't imagine denying her anything, especially when she was all pink and tousled from making love and wearing his shirt, like now.
His gaze caressed her face, taking in its intense concentration and remarkable beauty. His heart pounded outrageously in his chest at the thought of how beautiful she was as she sat on the chest at the end of his bed. She simply took his breath away. This was when she was her most beautiful to him. No makeup, just natural beauty. His gaze focused on her lips, those damned kissable lips that drove him to distraction.
She'd promised to be quick, but she wouldn't be quick enough to keep him from becoming self-conscious. "Nobody will see this but you and me, right?"
"Of course."
He knew without a doubt he could trust her, and that no one would lay their eyes on the sketch, but after what had happened with Drue and that quiz, he couldn't help the sense of relief that filled him at her reassurance.
She smirked as she eyed him, lifting a brow. "So, uh, will you be up for another round after this?"
"I think my balls might be drained at the moment, Jo. We should probably take it easy for a while. I'm not ruling out later, though."
"Good." She started humming "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction" while she worked.
That made him smile and his chest shook with silent laughter. He watched her lips purse and her brows knit together. "Are you worried it won't be a good drawing?"
"I'm afraid I won't do you justice. You're impressive, Pace."
His cheeks warmed with embarrassment and he averted his gaze again. "No, I'm not."
"You are, but I can tell me saying so makes you uncomfortable, so I'll shut up about it." Her pencil moved across the paper in rhythmic strokes.
He needed a distraction so he wouldn't think about the fact that a naked drawing of him would soon exist. "Let's go out tonight."
"Hmm?" she voiced, her concentration still on the sketchpad on her knees, glancing up at him with an assessing eye. "I thought you wanted to cook dinner."
He shrugged. "I think it might be good for us to get out of this house. You know, distract ourselves for a bit, you know, while your body recovers from the, uh, strenuous activity."
She laughed breathlessly and shook her head. "I appreciate your concern, sweetheart, however unnecessary."
Joey returned her attention to the sketchpad. He watched her hand move the soft pencil across the paper, watched as her eyes darkened a bit and a deep flush crept into her face. A telltale sign she was now drawing his genital area. He felt his cock twitch, and forced down the desire trying to rise up from the pit of his fluttering stomach.
It took every ounce of concentration not to be sidetracked by his tousled, naked form, not to let her mind wander to more exciting thoughts, but she finally finished the drawing. Releasing a self-satisfied sigh, she looked up at him with an excited smile. She moved off the trunk and joined him on the bed, handing over the completed sketch.
Pacey's mouth fell open. His own face was looking back at him, lips curved into a slight smile, eyes soft and full of emotion. How could she do that with just a pencil? Other than his face, she'd been particularly scrupulous, he saw, about the anatomy of his penis, and below in a half shadow, the slight twin bulges of his scrotum. She had drawn his member resting partially lifted and pointed outward on his sac.
"This is amazing," he said, his voice low and full of admiration.
"I knew your humility was false," she joked.
"I don't mean me. Well, this is me, but I mean… you, Jo. What you did. I've never seen anything like this before. Somehow you put in every little detail about me." His eyes widened as he took in the shadowed scar on his right cheek. "The detail is incredible. It's like looking in a mirror—better than a mirror, honestly. It's like… you can see inside me, or something."
"And do you like what you see?"
He smiled, convinced she was the only one in the world who could see his heart. "I like what you see." He tore his gaze away from the drawing to look at her. "Joey, you make me so proud."
Her smile brightened the room. He set the sketch aside. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him gently to thank him, touching her forehead against his as she caressed his face, relishing him and his praise. Then she moved into his lap, her warm center pressing against his, and he smiled while his arms came around to hold her. She kissed him again, but this time with passion, and she began to roll her hips over him. His body responded to the moist heat and soft caress of her writhing pussy. Reaching to the bedside stand, she lifted a condom and enclosed it in her palm.
"I don't want to wait until later," she murmured against his mouth.
Pacey took the condom from her hand, and again encircling her with his arms, tore the wrapper open behind her back as he returned her passionate kiss. One of these days he'd learn how to say no to her.
That evening, they walked hand in hand inside their favorite Italian eatery downtown, where they were seated at a side table next to a window. The hostess lit the votive candle between them and handed them laminated menus with "Carmine's" on the front in fancy print. Joey set hers down and looked at Pacey. "Okay, I admit it. It does feel good to be out," she said, refreshed by the surroundings of people in hushed conversations at nearby tables, the soft music playing overhead, low-lit décor, and the cozy warmth of the room on a cold winter's night.
He nodded, loving the idea of eating a plate of delicious pasta prepared by someone else. "It does."
A familiar pretty waitress with curly blond hair soon appeared at their table. "Hi, my name is Amber. I'm happy to be your server again tonight," she said, beaming a smile at Pacey as she filled their water glasses. "Are you ready to order?"
He looked at Joey and her lips pursed with indecision. "We'll need a few minutes," he replied to the waitress.
"No problem. I'll be back in a bit." She flashed another smile and walked away.
"I think you're Amber's favorite customer, Pace," she said with a smirk.
He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure it's my tips she likes."
She laughed. "Maybe you should scale back some of that generosity," she teased.
"Nope." He shook his head. "I happen to know just how hard waitresses work on their feet, Miss Potter."
She laughed again, and then she frowned. "I need to find a new job."
Heaving a sigh, he nodded in agreement. "You do, but not this week, remember?"
Her smile returned, and they soon ordered.
Pacey and Joey made slow work of their shared dessert, taking their time. Her mind turned to her partially-finished painting in his living room and the memories it evoked. She gazed across the table at him and emotion tightened her throat. "I know you'll say that it's pointless to dwell on the past, but I wish…"
Alarmed, he watched her eyes become shiny and wet, and reached across the table to hold her hand. "What?"
"I missed out on so much, with you. I don't regret my friendship with Dawson, and how much time I spent with him." She swallowed against the emotion. "I now know there was this huge empty space in my life, and I thought that Dawson alone could fill it, but he couldn't, and you were there, trying to get me to let you in and I just…"
She took another deep breath. "Sometimes I wish I could change things I did. Like…" She laughed. "Remember my twelfth birthday party? If I hadn't hemmed and hawed when you asked me to skate with you, we probably would've been able to skate for the entire song, and then who knows what might've happened?" Her mouth curved into a grin. "There's just so many things I see now that I didn't see then."
A wave of sentiment and nostalgia welled up as memories came forward in his mind. "I do wish we could've skated for the whole song. Eleven-year-old me was very excited to be holding Joey Potter's hand."
"See? That's what I mean. And didn't… didn't you tell me I was pretty?"
"Yeah," he chuckled. "Wow, you remember?"
"I'm starting to. God, why was I so hung up on trying to get Dawson to like me as more than just his buddy when you were there… the whole time?" He opened his mouth to answer, but she held up her hand, silencing him. "That was a rhetorical question, Pacey. I know the answer. This skittish kitten was scared of anything she couldn't control, and other than what was happening to my parents, you were the number one example of things in my life I couldn't control."
He laughed, and then warmth began to flow through him. "I'm pretty sure you can control me now, Josephine," he said huskily.
She chewed on her lip, blushing. "Gee, and all it took was sex. See what I mean by what I missed out on because of time spent wasted?"
An idea rushed forward and a wide smile spread across Pacey's face as the waitress returned and laid their check on the table. "So, I'm thinking of an activity we can do when we leave here."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Activity? Something… strenuous?"
He grinned. "If you do it right."
She quickly finished off the chocolatey dessert.
When he pulled the truck into the parking lot of the Capeside Rollerdrome, Joey glared at him. "Okay. When you said strenuous activity, I didn't think you meant this."
Laughing, he parked and got out of the truck. Reaching for his hand, she walked with him inside the building. Soon an attendant was putting a women's size eleven roller skates on the rental counter. Pacey grabbed them along with the men's size elevens and headed for the bench just outside the concession stand.
"What are we doing here, Pacey?" she asked as he handed over her skates.
"We're making up for lost time. I just hope I don't embarrass myself." He suddenly was having second thoughts about the idea of a pair of shoes with wheels holding himself upright. "The chances of me falling on my face are high. And everyone knows rule number one of the Rollerdrome: don't fall. You'll never live it down for as long as you live."
She smiled at him as she kicked off her shoes. "When was the last time you skated?"
Scoffing, he slipped his foot into a skate. "Your birthday party, probably. You?"
"Actually, I came here with Jen and Andie last year."
"You did?" He looked at her, surprised.
"Yep. It was a lot of fun. It had been years before that, though, and it wasn't so bad. They say it's like riding a bike. You never forget."
He gave her a skeptical look. "Hmm."
It slightly embarrassed her that she was so excited to be at a roller skating rink at her age, and also when she took in the other skaters around the rink. "Pacey, did we really have to come here on old people's night?"
"Strike while the iron's hot, Potter. I wasn't about to wait around until Friday night to skate with the cool kids."
The lights dimmed and the DJ announced a couples skate. The disco ball sent spinning sparkles around the rink, and Lonestar blared from the speakers. A mixture of adults and young teenagers on the floor started skating slow laps, holding hands or embracing like dancers.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Pacey grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips. "What if we sit the one out until I can get my balance on these things?"
She laughed. "Come on. It's a slow one. I'll hold your hand."
"I have a better idea." He leaned toward her, placed his hand on her cheek, and kissed her.
They didn't really need to skate laps around a scarred wooden floor to enjoy themselves. Clearly the most fun one could have at a roller skating rink was kissing someone you were head over heels in love with, sitting hip to hip and swaying to the music. Joey put her hands around his neck, twirling her fingers through his hair. He pulled her closer and got lost in the moment.
Bright lights pulled them out of their reverie. The song "Amazed" ended, and then "Smooth" by Santana started blasting from the speakers. Even more skaters swarmed the rink. She broke their kiss. "Okay, let's go."
Eventually Pacey got his bearings on the skates and came to the conclusion that she was right. Maybe it really was like riding a bike. When Joey told him that she was heading off to a bathroom break, he made his way over to the DJ booth's open window and made a request. Then he skated across the rink to wait for his girlfriend. She soon returned, and after a few more songs, the DJ announced another couples skate.
The lights dimmed and the disco ball dropped. As the music once again filled the air, Joey turned a gaping stare at him. "Did you do this?"
"Making up for lost time, remember? Now we'll finally get the whole song."
Overcome with emotion, she squeezed his hand, and they began to skate together while Bryan Adams crooned above them from the speakers. As they went around the rink, Pacey sang along enthusiastically, serenading her while she couldn't keep the smile from her face. When the song began to slow to its inevitable end, he lifted their joined hands until his arm was over her shoulder, holding her close to him. As the last bars of the song played, he pulled her into a kiss.
"If only that had been the ending to my birthday party," she murmured sweetly.
His heart swelled, his arm tightened around her, and he kissed her again. Skating then lost all appeal to him. "Let's get out of here."
Taking his hand, she led him off the rink and back to the bench near the concession stand. When their skates were returned to the rental counter, Joey led him out the door, a more private destination in mind.
On the drive back to the beach house, thoughts of the coming night filled them with excitement, and they couldn't keep their eyes, or their hands, off each other. Joey slid over while Pacey drove, her hand rubbing up and down on his thigh, her lips at his face, his ear, his throat. Being with him again would be the climax to several hours of foreplay. His every touch, his every expression had aroused her, all through dinner and then at the skating rink. She'd seen his thoughts, his fantasies, in his hooded blue eyes when he glanced her way. All her own memories and imaginings were just as erotic as his seemed to be.
Once they reached the beach house, the air became even more charged, electric. When they were inside the kitchen, door closed and locked behind them, they looked into each other's eyes and instantly grabbed for each other. Their coats were quickly tossed to the linoleum floor. Kissing mindlessly, they backed up through the kitchen. Pacey hadn't even put his hands on her skin yet, and already her body was weeping for him.
He pulled Joey flush against him. He could take her. Here, now. On the kitchen floor. Or up against the wall. Hard and fast. But that's not what he wanted. What he wanted was everything. What he wanted was to take his time and enjoy every inch of her. He put his hands beneath her ass and lifted her. "Put your legs around me, Jo."
She did as he instructed, wrapping those long legs around his hips, bringing them chest to chest, groin to groin. She felt his erection through her jeans and she ground herself against him. God help him, he'd be lucky if he didn't come before he made it to the upstairs landing.
"You don't have to carry me all the way."
"If you think I'm going to let go of you now, just when I've got you where I want you, you've got another thing comin', Potter."
Pacey carried her down the hallway, heading toward the stairs. With her arms around his neck, Joey kissed him with a fiery passion.