“Josephine Lillian Potter, if you don’t let go of me I won’t be able to get to the door.” She’s got me pinned to the bed, straddling me a knee on either side of my waist. She’s holding onto the bed posts for extra leverage as I laugh and struggle to flip her off me. Which I wouldn’t do at all, except that the doorbell started ringing two minutes ago and now has progressed into a combination of rings and pounding fists against the door. Someone wants in badly and with my luck Gretchen lost her key and has been waiting in the cold night air for ten minutes because I’m too busy making out with my girlfriend. My topless girlfriend. Who’s laughing and holding me down under her, rotating her hips slowly over mine, causing an insistent throbbing to build within me. And whoever is at the front door is going to get an eyeful. Joey runs her hand over my bare chest, leaning down to kiss me softly on my bottom lip. And then the blasted knocking. “Jo, it might be Gretchen,” I say, attempting to reason with her.
“If it was Gretchen, she’d be inside already. She has a key,” Joey whispers leaning in to kiss me a little harder. She’s right, of course. And if Gretchen was actually locked out she’d be screaming like a banshee, not banging on the door all COPS drug bust like. But whoever is beating down the door needs to be addressed now. I won’t have our first heavy grope session accompanied by the sound of angry pounding. Flipping Joey over as her hands trail to the waistband of my jeans, I disentangle myself from her arms and stand. She pouts adorably.
“Jo, please. I’m just going to see what that moron outside wants and then I promise we’ll pick up where we left off.” I quickly run a hand through my hair and force my eyes to remain on hers, rather than drifting lower. I know if I check out her chest again I’m not going to be able to leave this room. I glance anyways and immediately wish I could turn back time. She’s leaning back against my bed, lips wet, eyes dark and glazed, her back arched. And just as I think maybe the knocking isn’t so bad, the sound increases, the banging distinctly resembling the sound of kicking. That does it. With a sigh I leave Joey and stride towards the door, angry.
Flinging it open I see Dawson Leery mid-kick, his booted foot raised in the air. I also see paint chips on the toe of said boot. Grimacing, I examine the damage done to my door and then turn to the kick happy fool.
Dawson has a rather harried look on his face. He’s caught somewhere between smugly self righteous and twitchingly manic. His hair hangs even more than usual and one greasy bleached lock is actually standing up straight on his head. His eyes are wild. I’m a little scared to be honest. “D, man, I know you’ve given up washing your hair, but I at least thought you combed it regularly. What’s going on?” I try for casual, friendly, hoping to calm him, get him out of the house quickly, and head back to my nearly nude girlfriend. Actually, he’s not in my house yet. I know I should invite him in, but I can’t seem to form the words. “Dawson, seriously, you’re gonna have to repaint this door. What were you thinking?”
He stares at me, but refuses to respond. Instead his eyes sweep over me, narrowing, and his mouth opens and shuts a couple times. He looks mad and I look down, searching for my “Dawson is a fucking twit” t-shirt. In my search I find the true source of his anger. My bare chest. Only it’s not totally bare. There’s a few pretty defined berry colored lipstick marks on my abdomen, a couple more on my pecs. Damn. I guess I walked to the door angry and shirtless.
“Having a nice evening Pacey?” The question is clipped and dripping with venom. I thought he was over this. I thought Dawson’s new and frightening crush on my sister had ended all the “stay away from my soulmate” anger. I thought Gretch was playing sacrificial lamb this month. What is this? Which is what I’m just about to say when the situation worsens exponentially. “Pace?” I hear Joey call out my name and I just pray she stays in my bedroom. Dawson’s eyes flit towards the sound of her voice.
“Joey’s here?” Dawson asks, although we both know it’s not a question requiring an answer. He seems to relax slightly and attempts to straighten his unkempt hair. “Gretchen and I broke up,” he explains softly, “She said she ‘valued her spine’ too much and she way ‘way too old to date a guy that gives girls mix tapes.’” He frowns, tears dripping down his face like the leaky faucet that keeps people awake at night. Drip, drop, drip, drop, DRIP. I refocus and keep my anger in check. “Joey?” Dawson calls out to her needily. I frown, realizing what’s happened finally. Gretch won’t date Dawson and now he wants the “girl across the creek” back. Well fuck that.
“Pacey? Come back to bed,” Joey commands, stepping into the hallway wearing my shirt. My shirt and nothing else. Before I can help it my gaze travels up and down the length of her bare legs. Then I notice that pig staring at her. This isn’t happening. I know I don’t own Joey, but in front of Dawson everything possessive and insecure in me just flares. Jo is smiling seductively from her spot in the hall and at first I think she simply hasn’t seen the golden boy. Then she looks at him dismissively and says, “Hey Dawson, are you done with Pacey?” Heh. There’s my girl.
Dawson looks a tad taken aback. Good. “Joey? How could you?” She gives him a hard stare and a laugh.
I’m just playing spectator now, trying to keep the self satisfied grin off my face. Josephine has never looked more beautiful to me. She doesn’t say anything to Dawson, just laughs coldly and heads over to me. She raises up on her tip toes and wraps her arms around my neck, causing the cotton t shirt to rise a little revealing her light blue bikinis. I see Dawson’s eyes lower to her ass and I pull the shirt down firmly over her hips. She kisses me, her eyes loving, and whispers, “Hurry up and get him out of here. I’ll be waiting Pace.” Then she plants a kiss on my neck and heads back to my bedroom.
I watch her exit and then turn back to the idiot keeping me from following. “Dawson, we need to finish this conversation. I have plans.”
“Thinking with your cock as always I see.”
I stiffen at the harsh words, “save or screw” screaming through my head. “That’s none of your business, “ I grit out, trying to remain calm.
“Just like what went down last spring was ‘none of my business?’ Pacey, you never change,” Dawson spits back at me, fists clenched.
“What went down last spring....” If I hear that one more time I’m gonna throw Dawson in the creek. “Is over. I’ve bent over backwards to make amends for my actions and it’s enough. It’s really enough.”
“What?” Dawson looks a little stunned.
I charge on, gaining steam. “I’m done apologizing. I’m done begging for your friendship. My knees are bleeding I’ve spent so much damn time on them. I don’t want your friendship. It isn’t worth it. I can’t think of a single moment of you being a real friend to me. Not one in years. Joey wasn’t your girlfriend when I kissed her. She’s been my girlfriend for almost eight months now. Get over it. If anything I deserve a fucking apology for putting up with your shit last spring, last fall, this winter, and at the rate you’re going next spring. This is it, I’m done, I don’t need this. I have a beautiful girlfriend, an amazing sister, Decoupage Dougie, and Jack likes me better than you!” Okay, that was probably petty and childish. “Go jump in the creek Dawson,” and I push him out the door, ignoring his shocked, wide eyes. “Betraying you was the best move I ever made Oompa Loompa Leery!” I scream at his retreating form as I slam the door shut. Wow, I feel really good.
“Pacey?” Joey calls me from the bedroom. I hope she’s not too mad. I try to hide the cocky grin that threatens to overtake my face. Then I head to my bedroom, stopping at the slightly ajar door. Opening it slowly, I take in a sharp breath at the sight that greets me. My shirt and her panties have been discarded in a heap on the floor and Joey is nude on my bed. She is smiling, her eyes half closed, her chest rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.
“Jo,” I whisper, my breath coming in quick and erratic. “I shoved Dawson out the door.”
Her eyes open wide and she smiles with....admiration? “Good for you Pace.” She holds her arms out to me.
Maybe she didn’t hear me? I try again. “Jo, he’s not coming back. I’m pretty sure I put the final nail in the coffin containing our friendship.” I shift on my feet, trying to control the growing hardness of my cock. She stretches, her back arching, her hips moving skyward, and I shift again, looking down at the swiftly rising bulge straining against my jeans. Well, shifting isn’t working. I try a different mood killer. “Joey? I told Dawson to jump in the creek.”
She smiles patiently and giggles a little. “Okay Pace.” She sits up and holds her arms out again. She’s sitting on her knees, legs slightly spread apart, and I glance down at the dark patch of hair at the apex of her thighs. My whole body begins to ache and I brace my arms against the door frame, struggling to remain standing.
Joey licks her lips like a cat stalking its prey and stands, slowing stepping closer. She brushes her thumb over my left nipple, her fingers splayed feeling my heart beat. My pulse quickens and she looks up at me, her tongue darting out, pressing flat against my nipple, circling slowly, and biting down gently. I fail miserably at stifling a groan, my erection pressing against her thigh as she pulls me down towards her. She blows a cool breath against my ear as her hands move to the button fly on my jeans. Her tongue brushes against my ear when she whispers, “I’m ready Pace,” her fingers brush against my crotch as she unbuttons my jeans, “Are you ready Love?” Her tongue dips into the well of my ear for a second as she pushes my jeans and boxers to the floor. She reaches a hand down and brushes her thumb against the head of my cock. Then she moves her now shaking hand up to caress my face, the other hand moving to rest against my heart. I cover her hand with my trembling ones and she leads me to the bed. She’s leading me by my heart.
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