It took her a moment to realize what it was that had woken her up.  Glancing blearily at the digital alarm on her bedside table, Joey Potter fumbled with the receiver, trying to pick it up and dropping it, finally managing to bring it to her ear. 

“. . . hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.”

“You . . . it’s you calling me at 6:00 A.M. on a Saturday morning?”  Joey mumbled. 

“Yes, it’s me,” Pacey Witter’s warm, deep voice told her, laughter in his tone.  “Now that we have that established, can we move on?”

“To the why of it, right?”

“It’s the fifth of September, Joey.”

“The fifth of September . . . God, Pacey, I can’t think . . . the fifth of September,” Joey said, picking up the base of her phone and putting it beside her on the bed, curling up with the phone to her ear. 

“It’s early, I’ll grant you that, Potter,” he said, his tone jovial and generous.

“Oh, and thank you, kind sir.”

“But still.  I’d have thought that the importance of today would be uppermost in your mind,” he prodded.

“God, I just can’t stand you sometimes,” Joey grumbled, earning a hearty chuckle. 

“C’mon, Potter.”

“On this day in history, the coffeepot was invented?”

“Nope.  Try again.”

“Damn . . . okay.  On this day in history, you picked on me when we were five.  When we were seven.  When we were ten.  When we were twelve.  When we were -”

“Probably true, but not what I’m looking for,” he interrupted.  “Try again.”

“Let’s see . . . why is September fifth so damn important . . . “ she trailed off, thinking.

“Quit stalling, Potter.”

“On this day in history, I turned my life upside down and followed my heart, sailing away with you on True Love,” Joey answered softly, having known all along.

She heard him sigh in relief.  “Three months ago.”

“Yup.”

“So, to celebrate our anniversary, I thought we’d go on our first date,” he said. 

Although they’d been together for three months, all but the last two weeks had been spent on his small sailboat, True Love.  They’d had little to no money, only a few changes of clothes, and a huge adventure ahead of them.  And even though they’d spent every minute of every day together, falling deeper in love with one another by the day, the concept of dating hadn’t been a practical one while at sea.  Since they’d been back, their time had been consumed by familial responsibilities, the beginning of senior year, and dealing with their group of friend’s reactions to them as a couple. 

“We do things backwards, have you noticed that?” she asked sleepily, a smile in her voice.

“However we do things, it’s working, Jo,” he answered.

Rolling over, Joey yawned, smiling. “So what have you got in mind for tonight?”

“We have reservations at Bellissimo’s tonight at seven,” Pacey replied promptly.

Joey sat up abruptly.  “Pacey!”

“Don’t even start, Jo.  I don’t want to hear it.”

“You can’t pay for that!”

“The hell I can’t,” Pacey said, every bit the smart ass.

Joey’s eyebrows furrowed, her lips pursed.  “Where did you get the money?”

“Why do you have to know?” Pacey returned quickly.

“Because!”

Pacey laughed.  “That’s it?  That’s your whole reason?”

“I shouldn’t need a better one,” Joey said, her tone of voice broking no argument.

“Okay, okay.  I give,” he said, like she’d known he would.  “I’ve been babysitting for my sister Kerri for the past two weeks.  I’ve been helping Dad out with some filing at the station.  I’ve helped Doug rewallpaper the bathroom.  Etcetera, etcetera.”

Joey was quiet for a moment.  “You didn’t oversell your blood, did you?”

Pacey laughed, remembering how their friend Jen Lindley’s boyfriend had sold more of his blood than he’d been legally allowed to, and had passed out during their first date.  “No, Jo.  I didn’t sell my blood.  So, are you happy now?  I earned the money to take you out in a respectable manner.”

Joey leaned back against her pillows.  “I’m happy, I’m happy . . . I’m just . . . “

“Just what, Jo?”

“Just without something suitable to wear to a place like that,” she sighed, going through her wardrobe in her head.

“Well, maybe you can borrow something from Bessie,” he said reasonably.  “Anyway, I gotta go, Pop’s calling for me.”

“I love you, Pacey,” she said. 

He was quiet for a moment.  “I love you too, Jo.  By the way, could you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Go outside.”

The dialtone was loud in her ear after he abruptly hung up on her.  Curious, she replaced the receiver back in the cradle and hopped out of bed.

Grabbing her robe, Joey walked through the Potter Bed & Breakfast toward the front door, pausing to greet one of the inn’s guests who was watching the early morning news in the living room.

Opening the door, she stepped out onto the porch, and smiled when she saw the rectangular white box resting in one of the wooden rockers.  Taking it inside, she rushed back to her room.

She set the box down on her bed, and lifted the lid.  Moving aside the tissue paper, she gasped as she lifted out a beautiful black dress.  Holding it up to herself, she laughed out loud.
 

***************

“I come bearing hot rollers and and a makeup case larger than the island of Japan,” Jen Lindley announced, walking into Joey’s room and dropping said items onto the bed.  Noticing the dress, she picked it up.  “What’s this?”

“The dress Pacey left outside my door this morning,” Joey said, getting up from the vanity and walking over to where Jen stood.

“Pacey picked this out?”

“Apparantly.  Maybe Doug helped him,” Joey said, shrugging, a small smile on her lips.

Jen laid the dress back on the bed, and picked up one of the other items in the dress box.  “He even bought you shoes!”

“I know!”  Joey gigggled.  “Can you believe it?”

“Did he get your sizes right?” Jen asked, holding the dress up to Joey’s body.

“Perfectly.  He’s amazing, Jen,” Joey sighed, flopping face first on the bed.

Jen gracefully sat beside her friend.  “What’s the problem, then?”

“It’s our three month anniversary and he still hasn’t made an effort to get in my pants,” Joey mumbled against the bedspread.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Joey said, rolling to her side to face her.  “We kiss.  We snuggle.  We grope.  But still . . . “

“No nookie?”  Jen supplied helpfully. 

“No nookie for Joey!  None whatsoever!” Joey exclaimed.  “And it’s starting to piss me off.”

“I can imagine,” Jen said, a thoughtful expression on her face.  “He really hasn’t?”

“Really.  He hasn’t,” Joey said, a scowl darkening her beautiful features.  “He treats me like, I don’t know, like -”

Jen leaned back on her elbows, and interrupted her.  “Like he’s scared that sex will ruin the best thing he’s ever had?  Because, Joey, look at his past.”

Joey sighed.  “I know.  The Tamara thing?  God, Jen.  They screwed like bunnies and it ended with him publicly humiliating himself, and Ms. Jacobs getting as far away from Capeside as she could.”

“And then, with Andie . . . “  Jen commented, trailing off.  “I know he believes they had sex before they were ready.”

“It didn’t help when she began to deteriate mentally shortly thereafter, either,” Joey added.  “And then, sleeping with that mental patient guy, Mark?”

“And then, of course, Dawson made it sound like he just wanted you for sex,” Jen reminded her.  “So, can you see where he’s coming from?  He wants to be sure that you‘re sure.  And that you won‘t leave him.”

“I’m sure.  I’m sure.   Oh God, Jen,” Joey cried in frustration.  “So what do I do?  Say, ‘Hey, Pacey, nice shirt.  By the way, I’m ready to have sex with you’?”

“You could seduce him,” Jen suggested reasonably. 

Joey let out a sharp, unladylike burst of laughter.  “Me?  Seduce him?”

“Yeah.  You, Joey.”

“Wouldn’t that be like an innocent virgin trying to bed Don Juan?” Joey asked, raising an eyebrow.  Sarcastically, she added, “Oh wait, I am an innocent virgin, and Pacey’s . . . Pacey!”

Jen smiled reassuringly.  “Alright, I grant you that the situation is not unlike the mouse approaching the lion in it’s den.”

Joey snorted, and Jen continued easily.  “But you don’t have to say you’re ready.  Show him.”

“How?”

Jen grinned.  “Let’s talk about sex, baby.”

“Does it hurt?” Joey asked as Jen secured another hot roller to her head with a clip.

Jen remained silent a moment longer as she picked up another roller from the heating coils and began to wind a strip of Joey’s long dark hair around it.  “I’d like to be able to say no.  But I think in your case it’s going to hurt a little.”

“’In my case’?” Joey asked, meeting Jen’s knowing gaze reflected in the mirror.

“Well . . . the first time you have sex, it’s nice if it’s with a guy who’s a nice, non-intimidating size,” Jen said reasonably.  “And during those few weeks when he and I tried to get it on, to no avail?  I discovered something.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Joey commented, letting the reminder that Jen and her boyfriend had tried to have meaningless sex roll right off her back.

“Pacey’s a big boy, Joey.”

The phone rang then, the sound shrill in the silence. 

 “It’s Pacey.  He said he’d call when he got back,” Joey said. She took the half-rolled curler from her, saying,  “Can you get it for me?”

Jen fell across Joey’s bed, reaching for the phone on her bedside table. “Joey ‘n Jen’s Little Shop of Whores, how may I service you today?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Jen was deeply afraid the caller wasn’t Pacey.

“I knew I should have been more worried about the amount of time you two spend together these days,” he said, laughter evident in his tone. 

“I’m not feeling the love, Pace,” Jen replied, grinning.  Joey secured the roller to her head, and reached for the phone.

“And if you were, you’d probably be giggling,” he countered easily.  “Could I speak to the other shop owner, if you would be so kind?  I’d like to see what services she’s offering.”

“You might be surprised,” Jen replied somewhat mysteriously.  “Talk to you later, Pace.”

Joey took the phone from Jen’s hand.  “Make it quick, I’m with a customer.”

“My ears have been burning all afternoon.  Do I want to know what you two have been discussing?” Pacey asked in a teasing tone.

“Probably not,” Joey lied.  Changing the subject, she asked, “When are you going to pick me up?”

“At seven.  Our reservations are for 7:30,” he answered. 

“I’ll be ready,” she promised.  “And stunning.  I’m going to wear this old dress of Bessie’s, you know.”

“So did it fit?” he asked, knowing the answer.

“Like a glove,” Joey responded, smiling broadly.  Jen finished rolling the last strip of hair, and wrapped a hairnet around the twenty or so curlers attached to her head.

“Good.  I have to get back to work, I’m repainting Dad’s office.  I love you.”

“Love you too,” Joey responded. 

“Bye.”

“Bye,” she returned, pushing the “Phone” button on the cordless receiver.

Meeting Jen’s eyes in the reflection, she asked, “How big are we talking?”

He’d been shooting the breeze with Bodie for the past few minutes when Joey walked into the room.  In the middle of his own sentence, he lost the ability to speak coherently.

When he’d gone to buy the dress the day before, he hadn’t really known her size.  He’d been looking through dresses in a fancy boutique, lost, when a kind saleslady came to his rescue.  She’d been able to figure out Joey’s size by the span of his hands indicating her waist.  He’d been doubtful, but she’d assured him that it would fit her. 

The dress did indeed fit her like a glove.  Even though the black silk clung to her body, the dress appeared to be demure with a straight neckline from shoulder to shoulder, but he knew better.  When she turned to the side, he saw the expanse of her bare tanned leg exposed by a slit up to her upper thigh, a delicate silver chain around her ankle.  The heels he’d picked out complemented the dress perfectly.

Her hair was half-way caught up by a silver clip, and tumbled down her back in large, loose curls, with wisps framing her face.  And her face . . .

He’d never thought her lovelier than when she was scrubbed clean and looked fresh.  Hers wasn’t a face that makeup could truly enhance, and Jen apparantly knew that.  Very little eyeliner and mascara had been applied with an expert hand, making her eyes appear even wider and more open than normal.  Her lips, full and soft, had been touched by Very Berry.

“Do I pass inspection?” she asked softly, smiling.

When he found his tongue again, he said, “You look amazing, Jo.”

“You too,” she said, dimpling.  “You clean up well, Witter.”

He was wearing a black suit that was obviously tailored.  And, in typical Pacey fashion, had added a red silk tie.   He grinned.  “Shall we go?”

“Joey,” Bodie said as they reached the door.  “Bessie and I are going to be gone when you get back, we’re going to go to the movies.  Alex is going to be at Grams’, okay?”

“Okay.  Do you want us to pick him up?” Joey asked. 

“No.  You two have fun,” Bodie called after them.

Joey vanished into the ladies’ room immediately, leaving Pacey to talk to the host about their reservations. 

“Don’t tell me my parents invited you, too,” a disgusted voice told him.

Pacey turned from the host, surprised.  “What the hell are you talking about, Dawson?”

Dawson Leery stood, his expression shifting from one of disbelief to one of irritated confusion.  “My parent’s are hosting a dinner for our closest friends, celebrating their three month anniversary.”

“Be sure to pass along my congratulations.  I’m not here for their party.”

“Then why are you here, Pacey?”

Joey, who’d emerged from the bathroom to their right, heard the last part of their conversation.  “We’re here celebrating our own anniversary, Dawson.”

“Joey . . . “ Dawson trailed off as his gaze swept over her, struck speechless.

The host called out their reservation.  “Witter, party of two?”

Joey gave him a fleeting smile, slipping her hand into Pacey’s.  “That’s us, Pace.  Come on, our table‘s ready.”

As they followed their waitress to their table in the back, Joey leaned in close to Pacey.  “He’s watching my ass, isn’t he?”

Pacey glanced over her shoulder.  “Yup.”

“Of course he is.  The only time he ever notices me is when I walk away,” Joey commented, grinning. 

Pacey laughed, and pulled out her chair for her.  He slid the chair in after her.  Grinning devilishly, he spread her linen napkin across her lap.

After seating himself, their waitress smiled, and handed them menus.  She was a lovely girl, obviously Indian, with a wide smile for both of them.  “How are you two doing this evening?  I’m Bijal, and I’ll be your attendant this evening.”

Joey’s eyebrows raised.  “I’m Joey.  Our attendant?”

The girl let out a delicate laugh.  “Glorified waitress.  Sounds fancier, don’t you think?”

“I served food for years.  I know all about glorifying the title,” Joey grinned. 

“Would you like to hear the evening’s specials?  Or would you like me to skeedaddle and leave you to your dashing date?”

Pacey chuckled, and Joey sighed in mock frustration.  “I can’t take him anywhere without having to beat the women off with a stick.”

Bijal laughed appreciatively.  “Like nearly every other woman here, I’ve had my eye on him since the moment he walked through the door, Joey.  The sexiest thing about him, however, is that the only woman he sees . . .  is you.”

Joey smiled under the compliment, knowing the truth in what she said.

“I’ll give you time to look over the menus.  Stay away from the clam chowder, and you didn’t hear that from me,” Bijal said with a wink.  “Can I get you two anything to drink to start with?”

“I’ll have a club soda, and she’d like an iced tea, extra lemon, please,” Pacey answered, smiling up at her dazzilingly, pouring on the charm. 

“I’ll be back with your drinks,”  Bijal said, returning his grin full-force before walking away.  She knew she’d never meet a more mischievious man as long as she lived. 

“Lovely girl,” Pacey commented dryly, opening his menu. 

“She made you blush, Pacey,” Joey grinned, picking up her own menu.  “I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Hush, woman.”

Joey smiled, and began looking over the contents of the menu.  It wasn’t long before she slipped a foot out of her shoe.  The words on the menu weren’t even registering in her mind as she gathered up every single ounce of courage she posessed.

Slowly, she began to sneak a toe up the inside of his pantleg, caressing his ankle.  Careful to keep her eyes trained on the menu, she slid her toe even further up his leg.

He waited until her adventurous toe had found the back of his calf, stroking it.  Setting down his menu, he looked at her.

She was pretending to concentrate, and doing a good job of it.  Perusing the contents of the menu, her delicate brows knit, she studiously kept from looking at him.  He knew she had to feel his gaze.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Potter?”

Joey raised her head then, meeting his eyes.  “Maybe.”

“You’re not sure?” he asked, watching her from hooded eyes, noticing her pale cheeks begin to pinken in the glow of the candelight.

“Depends,” she answered lightly, her bare foot sliding slowly against his hair-roughened leg.  Her hands were beginning to sweat.

“On what?” he wondered, taking a casual sip of his ice water. 

“If it’s working,” she asked, her voice husky.  Before she lost her bravado, she continued.  “Is it?”

Pacey’s hand found her smooth calf beneath the table, and slid down the length to wrap around her slender ankle.  Holding her gaze with his, he brought her foot to his lap, pressing the soft sole against the hardening bulge in his pants.  “You tell me, Josephine.”

“Ahem.” 

Both were startled out of the gaze as Bijal set their drinks before them.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

Joey slid her foot out of his hand so quickly her knee bumped the table, looking guilty as hell.  Pacey fought hard to maintain his outward calm, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. 

“Are you ready to order?” Bijal asked, knowing full well where Joey’s foot had been.  The knowledge was evident in her eyes as she grinned at Pacey. 
“Yes, actually,” Pacey said, folding his menu.  “I’d like a steak, medium rare.  Baked potato, extra butter.  Joey?”

Joey was a shade of red he’d never seen on her before, and obviously off in her own private thoughts.  “Hmm?”

“What would you like, honey?” he asked in an easy tone.

“Oh! Uhm . . . “ she trailed off, flustered, glancing at the menu.  Anywhere but him.

“The chef’s salad is amazing tonight, might I suggest,” Bijal supplied helpfully.  “With house dressing, of course.”

Joey smiled gratefully at the woman.  “That sounds great, thanks.”

Bijal gathered their menus and smiled.  “I’ll be back soon,” she promised.

Leaning back in his chair, Pacey watched her as she toyed with the napkin, wringing the linen between her fingers, her gaze flickering all around. 

“What are you up to, Jo?” he asked thoughtfully, quietly.

“Making a fool out of myself,” she mumbled, catching her lower lip between her teeth.  “I’m out of my league.  As you so obviously showed me.”

The smile dropped off his face as he realized she was truly embarassed because she thought he was laughing at her.  Quickly, he took her hand in his, leaning closer to her. 

“Joey, look at me,” he demanded earnestly.  When she did, his heart nearly broke at the look in her eyes.  Shame on Joey was like the most beautiful sculpture horribly defaced.  “I showed you how you affect me.  I didn’t mean to scare you, or embarass you, or anything like that.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing and I feel stupid.” Joey confessed.  “My God, Pacey, I wasn’t even aware that the back of my hands could sweat.”

“Why on earth do you feel stupid, Joey?” Pacey asked, bewildered.  With his thumb, he massaged the palm of her damp hand.

Joey continued to chew on her lower lip.  “Look.  I know what I want, Pacey.  I just, I guess I . . . I don’t know how to go about the getting of it.”

When her meaning sank in, Pacey smiled slowly.  “Jo . . . go about it any way you want.”

Joey sighed, frustrated.  “I feel like a child.  I wanted to let you know that I want to go further, that I want to be with you, and what do I do?  Jump back like I burned my foot!”

“That was only because the waitress startled us.  You were doing great, Jo,” he said sincerely, the tender tone coaxing a small smile out of her. “And why do you feel like a child?”

“Because you’re experienced, Pacey.  The most I’ve ever done has been with you,” Joey said.  “You had sex when you were fifteen years old, for God’s sake!”

“You think that just because you’re a virgin, you don’t have what it takes to “get” me?” Pacey asked incredulously.

“Well . . . yeah.” 

“No.  No.  Listen to me, Joey,” he said urgently.  “You don’t even have to try.”

She looked at him quizzically, and he let out a frustrated sigh of his own.  “I’m not saying this right.  Okay, here.  Listen.  You don’t have to try to “get” me.  Just by being you, that’s all I need.  When you just talk to me, or sit quietly holding my hand.  When you hug me and smile at me and tell me you’ve missed me since the last time you saw me.  When you kiss me and look at me like I hung the moon.  When you tell me you love me, Jo, right there . . . you’ve seduced me.”

The tears in her eyes sparkled in the candelight.  “No one’s ever said anything so beautiful to me before.”

“It’s the truth,” he told her.  “When I look at you, I don’t see a child, or a foolish girl out of her league.  I look at you and I see a woman who doesn’t know how breathtakingly gorgeous or desirable she really is.  If I’ve ever led you to believe otherwise, I sincerely apologize.”

She couldn’t find words to tell him how he made her feel, so she slid her hand out of his and touched his face.  Leaning in, she kissed him lingeringly, conveying her emotions to him in the most telling way possible.

“Dance with me, Pacey?” she asked when they broke apart.

There was a mid-sized dance floor in the middle of the resteraunt, and standing up, he held out his hand to her.  She let him lead her to the floor and when he turned and took her in his arms, she leaned against him.

There were only two other couples dancing slowly to the music the resteraunt’s private band played.  Distantly, she knew they were being watched, but in his arms she didn’t care.

“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we, Potter?” 

Joey smiled up at him, her arms around his neck.  “I can hardly believe how much.  I mean, who knew that I’d end up in love with the boy who used to put gum in my hair, who snapped my bra every single day for two years?”

“Yeah, well, you have to remember, Jo, you were fun to pick on.  But it’s not like you were a little victim or something. You used to get so mad at me, you wouldn‘t speak to me for days, until I said I was sorry.” Pacey said, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tighter to him.

“I’m so thankful you grew up to be the man you are, Pacey,” Joey said, reaching up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly.  “You amaze me every day.  I love you so much it scares me sometimes.”

People all over the resteraunt, young and old, single or married for forty years, watched them stare into each other’s eyes and remembered a love of their own.  Watched how tightly they held each other and felt the need to hold their own loved one. 

“Happy anniversary, Jo,” he said, leaning down to capture her mouth with his own. 

Her arms tightened around his neck, and the passion in his kiss curled her toes.  One of his hands began to slide lower and lower, stopping only when to go further would be indecent in public.

His breath mingled with hers when he said, “You’re not wearing panties.”

Joey laughed lightly, her fingers lightly toying with the sensitive hairs on the back of his neck.  “Yes I am.”

Pacey splayed his hand across her lower back, and noticed the incredibly thin yet tell-tale panty line.  “You’re wearing a thong?”

“Black lace, Pace,” she grinned.

Pacey groaned lightly.  “It’s a good thing our food has arrived, because I need to sit down quickly.”

Their dinner had been fantastic, one of the best meals she’d ever eaten.  Afterwards, he’d fed her forkfuls of chocolate cake so decadent, she knew it would go straight to her thighs.  It tasted so good, she didn’t care.

Walking into the Bed & Breakfast, Joey slid her feet out of her shoes and locked the door behind them. 

“All alone here, huh?” Pacey asked, walking past her a little.

“Come here, Pacey,” Joey said from behind, and when he turned toward her, she caught him up in a kiss.

Her hands slid beneath his jacket, and as she kissed him, she peeled it off his shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby chair.  Hunger flared up between them, and the kiss became more heated than either had ever felt before. 

Breaking the kiss when he felt her hands squeeze his ass, he said in a ragged voice, “Jo, we have all the time in the world to get there.”

“Don’t you want me, Pacey?” she asked, looking up at him with eyes that swam with hurt and confusion and renewed embarassment.

Before she took her next breath, he’d grabbed her by the hips and backed her up against the wall.  Surprised, her hands flew to his shoulders and clutched, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

“What do you feel?” he asked roughly, pressing intimately against her, his eyes unreadable.

“Pacey . . .”

“Tell me what you feel, Jo,” he demanded, sliding his hands down her thighs and pulling her legs tighter around his waist.

She stared into his eyes, too shocked to be embarassed.   “I feel you.”

“How do I feel?”

Her heart was pounding so hard she thought she might die of it.  “Big . . . and hard.”

“There are things that you should never, ever doubt,”  he said hoarsely. “Don’t doubt how smart you are.  Don’t doubt that you’re going to be successful in all that you do. Don’t doubt how gorgeous you truly are.  And don’t you ever doubt how badly I want you.”

“How badly . . . ?“ she said so softly he barely heard her. 

His stubbled cheek pressed against her own smooth one when he brought his head even closer to whisper, his breath hot and moist against her ear, “Just by smiling, just by breathing, you get me hard, Jo.  Sometimes I look at you and you‘re so sweet and beautiful and amazing and I want to make love to you slowly until dawn. Past dawn.  I want to see you naked, bathed in morning light. I want to take my time and taste every inch of your body, and feel your soft little hands on every inch of mine.”

There was a hitch in her breath, and the swift rise of her nipples urged him to continue as if she’d spoken the word aloud. 

“And sometimes, when you concentrate on something, you make this little noise deep in your throat, which gets me to thinking about the sounds you’re going to make when I’m buried deep inside your tight body.”  He hitched her up a little higher, and pinned her tighter to the wall.  Sliding his hands up her body, he brushed his thumbs over her hard, sensitive nipples, taking the delicate flesh of her lobe between his teeth.  Her breathing was becoming ragged, and he knew there would be some dampness on his pants where he pressed against her warmth.  Enboldened by her response, he continued.

“Sometimes, when you’re walking toward me down the hall at school, your soft breasts bouncing with each step beneath those skimpy little shirts you wear, it’s all I can do to keep myself from pushing you up against the lockers.  Pinning you a lot like I’ve got you pinned now, and fucking you so hard you‘d feel me with every move you made for days and days afterward.”

Joey began to come like a firecracker in his arms then, surprising the hell out of both of them.  Grinding against his erection, her nails digging into his shoulders, she nuzzled her cheek against his as she panted his name. 

Pacey held her tightly as she experienced her first full orgasm, his surprise quickly replaced by a sharp hunger of his own.  He kissed her roughly, his tongue plunging into her mouth the way his body wanted to plunge deeply into hers.  His hands were busy, slipping inside the neckline of her dress and finding her breasts, kneading the supple flesh. Her large, sensitive nipples were hard as stone against his rough, calloused palms.  Only a few short moments later, he felt the warm rush of her wetness against his crotch, and hearing her breathy cries against his mouth, it was all he could do to clamp down on his own desire.

She broke the kiss and stared at him in the half-light, her limbs trembling and weak as he supported her weight.  He could see the growing insecurities in the mahogany endless depths of her eyes, and he was quick to calm her fears.

“You’re so beautiful, Joey, and never more so than when you let me love you,” he said urgently, his hands moving up to cup her face.  Wincing at his own words, he rushed on to explain.  “No, I didn’t mean how that sounded.  I mean -”

“I know what you mean, Pacey,” she said softly, cutting him off.  Her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and a vast amount of love.

She unhooked her legs from around his waist, holding onto his shoulders as she slid down his body and found her footing on legs that shook only slightly.  Pressing her body against his, she turned them so Pacey had his back to the wall.  He was hard against her stomach, and she slipped a hand between them to touch him through his trousers.  He gasped, and grabbed her wrist.  “Joey . . . “

“You’re not the only one who has carnal thoughts, Pacey,” she whispered, her mouth so close to his that her breath danced tantalizingly over his lips. Nuzzling his nose with her own, she practically begged. “Please?”

After a moment, the hand that had stayed hers was now tentatively pressing her fingers against him.  She smiled, feeling like she’d won a battle, however small.  Especially when he asked her, his voice thick, “What kind of carnal thoughts?”

Slowly, she began to stroke the bulge in his pants, pressing her fingers against him.  Her lips grazed his as she spoke.  “Thoughts along the lines of how amazingly sexy you look when you do ordinary things, like scratch your belly, or rub your chin when you’re lost in thought.  And how when you look at me, and your eyes darken to this beautiful, stormy grayish blue, my nipples get so hard and achy and I wish to God you’d bite them, lick them, and suck on them so roughly they’d be sore for hours.”

She unzipped his fly with slow, careful fingers, amazed that they weren’t shaking.  Reaching in and pulling him free, a shiver of desire curled up his spine when she squeezed him experimentally.  His breathing was jerky, and she continued her verbal onslaught as her fingers learned him  “I love it when you have your shirt off, or even just unbuttoned . . . every time I see your bare stomach, I get wet looking at the thin trail of dark hair leading down from your belly button, disappearing beneath your waist band.  I’ve wanted to follow that trail with my tongue so often, Pacey.  I’ve wondered hundreds of times how big you are . . . how long . . . how thick.  How you’d feel pushing deep inside me.“ 

The combination of her husky voice and questing fingers nearly made him lose control, but he kept himself in check for her benefit.  She was new to the world of sex, and it heartened him that she felt comfortable enough to speak so frankly.  He didn’t want to scare her.

“I’ve often wanted to . . . go exploring, but I was afraid you’d be shocked,” she said, stroking him slowly from base to tip, marveling at how hard and smooth he was.  How large. 

His eyes were heavy lidded as he looked deeply into hers.  Both were breathing heavily, their mouths brushing, grazing, dancing across each other teasingly. Her small hands wrapped around his cock, she squeezed and he drew in a sharp breath.   “Shock me, Joey.”

She kissed him then, quickly, moving her mouth down to his jaw, his Adam’s apple, his collarbone, unbuttoning his shirt as she went.  She tasted mouthfuls of his salty flesh, exposing more and more of his skin, tugging his shirt out of his pants.  On her downward trek, she paused to briefly suck on one of his flat male nipples, grinning ferally when his stomach tightened visibly. 

Continuing on, she knelt at his feet, unbuttoning the last two buttons.  She dipped her tongue into his navel, and nuzzled her nose in the hair below.  Finally, she reached her destination.

“Joey. . . “ he ground out in a choked voice, “You don’t have to . . . “

Her hands stroking him, she looked up into his eyes, the length of him against her cheek.  “What if I want to?”

He watched her tongue slip between her lips and taste him before she took the head of his cock inside the damp heat of her mouth.  The sensations . . . what she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm.

Joey began to take him further in her mouth before drawing back, sucking him fiercly, her hands squeezing and stroking where she couldn’t reach.  Finding a rhythm, she bobbed her head on his cock quicker and quicker, her blunt little teeth grazing his sensitive flesh. 

Pacey threaded his fingers through her silky hair, not guiding her, just wanting to touch her.  He stared down at her,  his eyes telling him that he wasn’t fantasizing.  Joey Potter was on her knees, sucking his dick. 

 He felt a tell-tale tightening in his groin at the thought, and tried to warn her.  “Jo... stop.  JoeystopJoeystop. . . “

Joey released him with a pop, only to say, “No.”  Taking him in her mouth again, she swirled her tongue around him as her hands squeezed him hard.  He began to spurt into her mouth, and he was too far gone to even be surprised that she wasn’t gagging or spitting.

His come was thick and creamy, and tasted intensly salty, but wasn’t gross or horrible like she’d heard discussed in the girl’s lockerroom.  She swallowed the warmth as it flowed into her mouth, her hands stroking him until he finished.

She stood, then, licking her lips like a contented kitten. 

He was thoroughly shocked, she could tell.  In that moment, he looked vulnerable and scared and overwhelmed.  Tenderness bloomed within her heart for him.

Slipping her arms around his waist, she hugged him tightly to her, and said, “I love you.  I don’t ever want you to doubt that.”

Pacey rested his chin on the top of her head, holding her against him as his breathing returned to normal.  Her cheek pressed to his chest, he knew she could feel how hard his heart was beating.  He wondered if she was truly knew that, while it did indeed beat within his own chest, that she was the one who owned it, that his heart belonged to her.

“How long can you stay for?” she asked an eternity later, reluntantly disentangling herself from him.  She rebuttoned his shirt, and with intimate knowledge of him now, she wasn’t at all embarassed as she tucked him back into his trousers, zipping up.

The residual heat remained between them, and both were loathe to stop touching each other.  The tips of her fingers were tucked inside his waistband, and his own fingers played with the straps of her dress.  He glanced at his watch.  “I should have been home about twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry if you get in trouble,” she said, her wide eyes staring up at him innocently.

“The hell you are, Potter,” he grinned.  Leaning down to kiss her, he didn’t miss her own grin. 

The kiss was slow and languid, and he tasted himself on her.  “Jo.”

“Yeah?”

“Next time, I’m gonna do some exploring of my own,” he said, gathering her up in his arms once again. 

“You bet your ass you are.  I won’t be so quick to get off next time, you’re gonna have to work a little harder,” she grinned broadly, her cheeks pinkening.

He laughed, his own smile just as wide.  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They made their way to the front door, hugging and kissing.  He stepped outside, and she held his hand.  “Call me around midnight?”

“Will do,” he said, bringing her hand to his lips and brushing a kiss across the knuckles.  Just when she thought he was letting her fingers go, he gave her a sharp tug that made her fall against him.

“Hey Joey?” he asked, grinning down at her, the golden light from inside spilling out over them.

“Hmm?” she asked, gazing up into his laughing, dancing eyes.  Eyes that were full of his innate orneriness.

He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers, grinning like a fool. “You give great head.”

She laughed whole-heartedly, blushing like crazy.  “Yeah, well . . . thanks.”

He hugged her close one last time, kissing the tip of her nose.  “I gotta go.”

“I’ll talk to you later, Pace,” she said with a soft half-smile, not wanting him to leave anymore than he wanted to go.

“I love you, Joey,” he said, stepping backward, his fingers slipping from hers.

Joey smiled back at him.  “Of that, I have no doubt.”