Pacey leaned back on the sofa and propped his feet up on the coffee table. Snagging one of the containers off the table next to him, he dug into the chow mien.

“Hey you lousy bastard.” His roommate, Dan, pushed open the dorm room door, holding it open with his bag-laden arm. “Can I get some help here?”

“No.” Pacey set his food down and walked over, alleviating him of a few bags. “You just bought the ones for this semester, right?”

“Hell, Pace. These are just yours.” Dan shoved another bag into Pacey’s arms. “Mine are still in the car.”

“You’re kidding.” Pacey shook his head and tossed the bags onto the couch, settling back down beside them. He cast a quick glance in his friend’s direction. “You are kidding. Right?”

“Yes.” Dan grabbed the chow mien from Pacey’s hand and started eating. “At least half of them are mine, since I’m taking real classes.”

“I’m taking real classes. Just not ones that require a lot of reading. Or studying. Or thought.” He took the piece of paper Dan handed him.

“Here’s your list. And my rent would now be considered paid.”

“Fabulous.” Pacey tossed the list aside and just started digging through the books. He made a stack on the coffee table, knowing without looking which ones were his roommates. He had just emptied one bag and started on another when a book caught his eye. “Well, this one’s a waste of money.”

“What?” Dan grabbed the book. “Ethan Frome? It’s on your list.”

“It’s no big deal,” Pacey shrugged and set the book down, picking up another food container. “I read it in high school.”

“Who didn’t?”

Pacey grinned. “I’ll bet you didn’t read it like I read it.”

“Whatever, dude.” Dan grabbed his bags of books and the last container of food, heading for his room. “Thanks for dinner.”

“You owe me fifteen bucks.”

“I’ll pay you later.”

“You’re an ass, Dan.”

“Better than living alone, you rat bastard.” Dan shut his bedroom door, leaving Pacey in the living room. He leafed through Ethan Frome, a smile dancing across his lips. Taking the last bite of chow mien, he snagged his beer off the table and headed for his own room, lost in a haze of pleasant memories.

“Good day, Miss Jacobs,” Pacey grinned at her through the screen door. “I’m here on behalf of the Capeside Police Department. We’re trying to gather toys and other donations for the surrounding area orphanages. We’re hoping to give the kids a merry Christmas.”

“Well,” Tamara smiled warmly at him. “I may have a gift for you.” She pushed open the screen door in silent invitation. “Why don’t you come in and wait while I look for it?”

He moved inside the house, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I could help you look?”

“Why don’t you just warm up by the fire?”

He cocked an eyebrow as he gazed at the cold hearth. “There isn’t a fire.”

She gave him a knowing smile as she walked up to him. Her hand was warm as she placed it lightly on the back of his neck. “There’s not?”

He turned slowly, making sure the keep the simple contact. Her fingers caressed his skin as he leaned into her hand. “No. There’s not.”

Tamara’s other hand came to rest on Pacey’s chest. “Then why do you think it’s so hot in here?”

Pacey stroked back her blonde hair, moving closer. “You’re hot?” She inclined her head slightly, an imperceptible nod. He let his hand glide down her neck to the top button of her blouse. “Maybe you’re just overdressed.”

“Maybe.” She massaged the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. Her lips grazed his, her tongue asking entrance.

His mouth opened, letting her explore him as his hands kept moving, continuing to unbutton her shirt. A small tug freed the silky material of her blouse from her skirt. She shivered slightly as he slipped the fabric from her body, smoothing his hands up her back to the fastening of her bra.

He unhooked it with newly acquired skill as her tongue delved into him, finding the surfaces of his mouth and tasting him. “Pacey,” she breathed.

He eased the straps of her bra down, pulling away from her hungry mouth. Stepping back, he guided the lingerie from her body and let it fall to the floor. Taking her hand, he guided her over to the sofa.

Tamara sank down and leaned back, smiling up at him. Pacey knelt at her feet, his hands slowly spreading her knees apart. He pushed her skirt up a little, letting his hands glide over the silk of her stockings only stopping when his fingers grazed the top of them, his thumbs playing over the clips of her garters.

Licking his lips, Pacey moved his head forward, capturing one of her nipples between his teeth. She gasped and arched her back forward, shuddering as his mouth closed over the hard tip. Pacey moved his hands up, around her back, holding her body close as he suckled her.

Tamara’s hands clenched at his shirt, tugging the material upwards, needing it off of him. Pacey pulled away reluctantly and let her guide the sweater off of him, moving back as soon as he could to find her willing flesh again. The cool air on her wet skin had tightened the nipple even more and he did his best to warm it, laving it with his tongue.

Her nails raked his back, urging him closer. Pacey complied willingly, moving his hand up to cup her breast, holding it as he licked and sucked the creamy skin. Her breath was hot as it wafted over his hair, tangling it.

He trailed his lips over to her other breast, lavishing the same attention on it. Tamara’s hands moved over his back, stroking him. He felt his cock, straining painfully against his jeans, as he rubbed against the couch, seeking some relief.

He let his hands move back down her body, over her stomach and skirt, pushing the material up even further. Her thighs were tanned, the black lace of her garters standing out darkly against her skin. His smile was dizzy, his head swimming at the sight of her smooth skin…the smooth skin she so willingly offered him.

Moving back just a bit, Pacey leaned down, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh then running his tongue under the thin lace strap. Tamara lifted her hips slightly, offering herself to him. He inhaled her scent, kissing his way up her thigh to the warm lips, damp with her arousal.

“Why Miss Jacobs,” he breathed hotly. “Is this proper attire for an educator in our fine city of Capeside?”

Every word sent a jolt of electricity through her, the soft rumble of his voice working its way along her nerves provoking shivers of desire. “Pa…acey,” she whimpered his name softly, brokenly as his tongue parted the swollen flesh, drinking in the taste of her. He ran it along the warm crevice, dipping it inside her before lashing her throbbing clit with his tongue.

Tamara moaned quietly, her legs locking around his back as she thrust up toward his mouth. Pacey worked his hands under her, lifting her up to him. He feasted on her heat, licking and sucking the aching flesh she offered him. His tongue slipped inside her, stroking the inside of her passage with the slightly rough texture.

He felt her shivers as they coasted through her body, searching out his tongue. He lapped at her skin, slowly bringing his tongue back to her clit, circling it with the tip. Easing one of his hands from underneath her, he let his fingers glide over the surface of the pulsing flesh.

Her whispers were loud in the silence of the room, nonsensical words that bespoke passion and need, that made sense out of the insanity of the two of them, gave reason to why she was here, in the arms of a fifteen year old boy. He slid his fingers inside her, matching the wild rhythm of her hips as she pressed down. Her thighs were clamped tightly around him, and her slick passage grasped at his fingers, keeping him enclosed in a universe consisting solely of the two of them.

His fingers dove inside her, thrusting and pumping, piercing the warm succulence of her with rapid motion, his tongue teasing her clit, alternating sucking and licking until he felt her whole body tense and the unmistakable feel and taste of her orgasm bathed his hand and tongue.

Pacey kept moving, slowing his pace until it was smooth and gentle once again. She buried her hands in his hair, running it through her fingers as she found her way back down to earth, grounding herself with his presence. When she opened her eyes, he pulled away from her, his smile triumphant and melancholy all at once. “You’re okay?”

She nodded, barely hearing the question. Blood was still pounding in her ears, the desire for him still cresting, not satisfied. She sank onto the floor, her thighs straddling his, the hot wet soaking through the denim of his jeans as she settled over him. Her hand reached down and stroked him through his pants, her own body tightening at the feel of his hardness.

“Tammy?” The question was almost too much, so vulnerable. With a gentle push, she guided him to the floor, moving off his body so that he could stretch out beneath her. Her hands were skilled as they easily unfastened his jeans and slid them down his body. He arched off the floor so that she could guide them over his hips. She pulled them gently with one hand while the other eased the cloth over his erection.

He whimpered softly as she freed him, the jeans and boxers pushed down to his knees. She moved over him again, straddling his thighs once more. The rough hair on his thighs scraped against her more delicate skin, sending shivers of sensation through them both. Her hands moved over his chest, brushing his erect nipples as she edged her way up his body.

Heat from between her thighs seemed to dance over him as she settled her hips over his. The damp tendrils of hair clung to his cock as she slowly eased herself onto him, her earlier climax allowing him to push his way deep inside her.

They groaned in unison as he filled her. He’d learned quickly under her tutelage and he grabbed her hips, holding her down on top of him. She gave him a small smile and teased his nipple with her nail. It made it so easy to forget the years between them, forget everything when he was inside her.

“Pacey?” He nodded, his mouth open slightly and his tongue teasing her between his full lips. She shook her head and took his hands in hers. “We’re going to learn something new today.”

“Are we, Miss Jacobs?”

She laced her fingers with his, using his strength for support as she raised up until just the tip of his cock was inside her. “You’re going to learn to hold on.”

She moved quickly, taking him inside her again, letting him fill her. She set the rhythm, her hips grinding down onto his wildly, his body thrusting up toward her in reckless abandon. She squeezed his hands, refusing to let go as she impaled herself time and again on his erection, feeling the blood pulsing through him.

Pacey’s eyes were locked on her body, the wild bounce of her breasts as she met his body with hers, the tight material of her skirt shoved up around her waist. Her golden hair was falling around her face, perspiration holding strands captive against her skin. Bracing his feet against the floor, he brought their joined hands to her hips and held her down against him as he thrust up one last time, his whole body wracked with the force of his orgasm.

Tamara barely felt his nails digging into her hips as the hot rush of his climax filled her. She pressed down to him, not wanting anything between them, not even air.

Pacey slowly let his body relax, laying flat on the floor once again. He carefully released Tamara’s hands and let her go, wincing when he saw the dark red half moon shapes cutting into her skin. He brushed a hand over the marks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She moved off of him carefully, lying beside him on the floor. Her eyes met his seriously. “I’m not.”

“But you will be,” he reminded her. “That’s what you always say. Someday, Pacey, this is all going to blow up in our faces.”

“But right now, I’m not sorry at all,” she placed a finger over his lips. “Tell me, volunteer Witter, is there a certain time you have to be back to the station with all your toys for the orphaned children of Capeside?”

“I made that up,” he grinned.

“Really?” She kissed him quickly before pulling away. Getting to her feet, she looked at her skirt in dismay. “Next time, Pacey?”

“Yes, Miss Jacobs?”

“Make sure I’m not wearing something that’s dry clean only. Please?”

Pacey grabbed his gear off the back of his beat-up truck and headed for the gate at the back of the house.

“Damn, Pace.” Dan shook his head. “Who lives like this?”

“University presidents.” Pacey set his stuff down. “Go around and tell ‘em we’re here, would you?”

Dan set his stuff next to Pacey’s and jogged toward the front door. Just as he disappeared around the side of the house, the back gate opened. “You do realize you’re late, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Templeton. The office was supposed…” he looked up from his clipboard, barely managing to force the rest of his sentence out. “To…call.” Pacey stared at the woman in front of him wide-eyed. “Miss Jacobs?”

Tamara’s eyes went wide for a moment, and she took a step back. “Mrs. Templeton,” she corrected automatically. “What are you doing here, Pacey?”

“Hey, Pace!” Dan came around the side of the house. “The lady of the house herself is supposed to let us in.” He noticed Tamara standing in the open gate and smiled. “You must be Mrs. Templeton.”

“I am. And you’re late. My husband and I are having guests this evening. I’m hoping I can count on the two of you to be finished in time?”

“We’ll be out of here before you know it. Pace? You mowing or poolin’?”

Pacey’s eyes were wandering over Tamara’s body, still sleek and sexy, clad in a black swimsuit. “I’ve got the pool.”

Dan headed back toward the truck for the lawnmower as Pacey gathered the rest of their equipment. He gave Tamara a quick look, refusing to meet her eyes. “Excuse me, Mrs. Templeton, but I’m afraid you’ll have to move.”

She stepped back, still holding the gate open. “Is there anything you’ll need?”

“No ma’am.” Pacey moved past her and headed for the pool. “Dan will probably want something to drink after he’s finished with the lawn. But I imagine we can just ring for the servants.”

She watched him go, smiling at his biting comment. Her eyes raked over his body hungrily as he strode away. Where she’d last seen a sixteen year old boy coming into his own; there was now a confident young man. She smiled at the honesty in his bearing. When he’d been fifteen, it had all been bravado and bluster, a thin veneer of indifference to hide how easy it was to hurt him.

Now she could see that whatever had happened in the intervening years had given him those things he’d striven for and lacked.

His partner pushed the lawnmower through the gate, snapping her out of her reverie. “We hope we don’t disturb you too much while we’re here, Mrs. Templeton.”

“I’m sure you won’t.” She smiled at him. “Come to the pool when you’re finished. I'll be sure there’s something for you to drink.”

“Thanks, ma’am.” Dan tipped his ball cap and walked off as Tamara followed Pacey to the pool.

She sank down onto the lounge chair, slipping her sunglasses on. She gazed at him through shielded eyes as he started the trimmer, edging the grass that lined the concrete patio. A soft hum filled the air as he worked, and she simply watched him. His muscles moved under his shirt, shifting beneath the material that clung to his sweaty skin.

He stopped the machine and set it down, wiping his brow with the hem of his T-shirt. She inhaled sharply as his actions exposed the golden skin of his firm stomach, allowing it to glisten in the sun.

“Mrs. Templeton?” His voice was low and husky as he turned to her. “You awake?”

Tamara felt her heart rate quicken, but she stayed silent, feigning sleep.

“You won’t mind then.” He smiled at her, his gaze locked on her chest as she struggled to keep her breathing even and measured. Taking the damp material of his shirt in his hands, he tugged it over his head and tossed it onto a nearby chair.

His jeans were slung low on his hips and his bronzed skin glistened with sweat. He gave her another quick glance before grabbing his broom and sweeping up the trimmings.

Tamara shifted in her seat, feeling a heat that had nothing to do with the sun beating down on her. Pacey turned his back, picking up a pair of shears and methodically clipping the hedges. His back was so strong, the muscles defined through hard work. She shifted again, pressing her thighs together, hoping to relieve some of the tension building inside her. Watching him was too much, made her want things that had never been right.

She forced her eyes closed and refused to watch him, refused to think about him.

“Mrs. Templeton?”

She lifted the sunglasses slowly, the sense of danger just as arousing as his presence. Danger always seemed to be a part of them. “Yes, Pacey?”

“I’m going to start on the pool. Did you want to take a quick dip before I did?”

“Sure.” She held up her hand and he took it, helping her to her feet. She released him quickly, not wanting the temptation of the feel of his skin. She tossed her glasses onto her towel and walked to the edge of the pool, diving in without giving him a second glance.

When she reached the opposite end, she dunked her head under the water, slicking her hair back. “You look hot.”

He shrugged.

“Why don’t you come in for a minute?”

“I left my swim trunks in my other pocket.”

“You’re wearing boxers, aren’t you?” She shook her head. “No. You have more work to do.”

“That’s right,” he agreed, his gazed locked on her. “Besides, you have guests coming over tonight. And who knows when your husband will be home. And there’s always the horrible film cliché of the pool boy and the lady of the house.”

“True.” She swam back to his end of the pool. Folding her arms over the edge, she raised one eyebrow. His loose-fitting jeans did little to hide the face that he was aroused, perhaps as much as she was. “But don’t you want to cool down?”

“It’s a heated pool, Mrs. Templeton.”

“Tell me Pacey, are you endeavoring to remind me that I’m married, or are you the one that needs reassuring?”

He didn’t respond, simply watched her climb out of the pool, water cascading off her body. He heard Dawson’s voice in his head, telling him to quit ripping off movie images, then all he heard was her.

“Because I can think of better memories, Pacey.” Her body was against his, and he was holding her, feeling the water from her bathing suit soak through his jeans. Sweat and water combined as her chest met his, her hard nipples cold against his hot skin.

Pacey groaned and captured her face in his hands, his lips taking hers roughly. His tongue invaded her, the kiss hot and hungry.

She wrapped one leg around the back of his, forcing his erection to press against her. Confident in the kiss, Pacey dropped his hands to cup the smooth curve of her ass, grinding their bodies together.

Tamara broke away from his demanding lips, smiling as his tongue darted out, following her, not wanting to lose the contact. Catching it between her teeth, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, her arms winding around him.

Sliding one hand to the small of her back, Pacey held her still as he thrust up toward her. Tamara gasped and jerked her head back. His eyes were black, hunger and passion filling them in equal measure. She touched his cheek, the casually intimate movement seemingly out of place. “Pacey?”

He nodded, closing his eyes. There was finality to the gesture, as if he expected her to walk away. “This might be more comfortable lying down.” She pulled away, catching his hand and holding onto it to maintain contact as they headed toward the small cabana.

As soon as they entered the building, Pacey yanked her back toward him, their bodies colliding. “Lying down?” His voice was a husky growl, and she was reminded again that he was no longer the boy she’d known. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Miss Jacobs?”

He pushed her up against the wall, one hand holding her shoulder to keep her there. The other hand trailed lightly down her chest, barely touching the hard nipple that stood out against the thin fabric of her swimsuit.

Tamara’s body strained toward his, her back arching away from the wall, aching to be closer to him. “Pacey,” she pleaded quietly.

He shook his head even as he raised his hand back up to her shoulder and eased the suit away from her body. The wet fabric clung to her hot skin, but his fingers were insistent. He guided the material off of her, using both hands now in his haste to undress her. They skimmed over her skin, needing her body revealed before him.

Her hands were busy as well, running down his chest. He exuded heat, his skin still hot and sweaty, the beads of water from the pool long since evaporated. Her fingers explored the changes in him, blazing trails down his skin as she sought out his jeans. She made short work of his belt and zipper, her hand easing his hard cock free of the denim.

Pacey groaned as her hand engulfed him. He shoved her suit down, off her hips, all the while thrusting into her moving hand. He curled his fingers into her hips, his breath hissing between his clenched teeth.

“Fuck me, Pacey.”

His body shuddered at her words, and he lifted her. She released him, leaning back against the wall as she grabbed his shoulders.

Pacey reached down with one hand and guided himself to her opening, closing his eyes as he pushed inside her, filling her in one swift motion. His hand went back to her hip, and he thrust wildly, burying himself as deep as he could in her warmth.

Wet and heat surrounded him, and he pressed his lips to her collarbone, sucking the burning skin. Tamara wrapped her legs around him, the skin of her thighs clinging to his as her muscles tightened around his cock. Her fingernails dug into his skin, her heels digging into his thighs. She ground down on him, gasping his name.

Pacey grunted softly with every stroke, impaling her with a liquid force that shook them both. She shivered around his shaft, the slick skin bathed in her release as well as his own. His tongue teased the hollow below her neck as he came, his breathy voice like fire in her veins. “Mrs. Templeton?”

Tamara’s eyes snapped open and she sat up on the chair. Pacey was at the other end of the pool, guiding his net over the water’s surface. His friend stood over her, blocking the sun from her eyes.

“Mrs. Templeton?”

“Yes?” God, was that her voice? Breathless and weak from her dream, induced by the sun and the sight of Pacey’s glistening skin. “Can I help you?”

“I’m finished with the lawn. Pacey’s gonna finish up the pool and then we’ll be out of your hair, all right?”

She nodded numbly, her eyes watching Pacey from behind her sunglasses. “That sounds fine. Thank you.”

“Great.” He turned toward Pacey. “I’m gonna start hauling this stuff to the truck.”

Pacey nodded and bent down, grabbing a pack from inside the pool. He held it up to the light, shaking the small tube. “You’ve got a high chlorine percentage, Mrs. Templeton. You might want to get that fixed.”

“Thank you, I will.” She stood up on shaky legs, knowing that she needed to get away from him. Her mind was replaying her dream, the images so vivid and so real that it was a kind of torture to stare at him, his bare chest temptation itself in the sunlight. “I appreciate all of your hard work.”

“My pleasure.” He grabbed the equipment he was working with and headed toward her. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses as well, yet she found she couldn’t look away. He grabbed his shirt and used it to wipe off his chest, leaving the skin dry but no less golden. “Would you…would you like me to get this added to someone else’s route?”

“No.”

“Because if this is awkward for you, or uncomfortable in any way…”

“It’s fine, Pacey.” She took a step toward him before stopping herself, knowing that one more and she would somehow find her way in his arms. “Really.” Against her better judgement, she stepped forward and placed her hand on his arm.

“Isn’t this how we started? Miss Jacobs.”

She nodded and released him, stepping back. “I apologize.”

He stared down at his arm where she’d touched him, his skin on fire. “We’re reading Ethan Frome in English.”

“You’ll pass with flying colors then.” She grinned at him, her hand instinctively raising, brushing a damp lock of hair away from his face. “You should go, Pacey.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I should.”

Tamara licked her lips and struggled to catch her breath, his voice and presence so overwhelming after all of this time, his body so alive after her dream. “Goodbye, Pacey.”

He grinned openly and honestly. “Goodbye, Mrs. Templeton.” Leaning in, he let his whispered words brush over the heated skin of her neck. “And you might want to take a dip in the pool. You’re looking a little…” He ran a hand along her shoulder to her neck then down to the valley of her breasts. Letting his finger disappear into her bathing suit, he captured a bit of perspiration on his finger. “Hot.”

She watched him walk away, her whole body weak. She’d sworn the day she left Capeside that she’d gotten Pacey Witter out of her system. She knew she’d miss him, but she also knew there was nothing in it for either of them. She’d put him behind her.

Tossing her glasses onto her towel, she dove into the pool, hoping the shock of the water would cool her off. She’d been wrong. He wasn’t out of her system. Not by a long shot.

Pacey stared into the mirror, making a face at his reflection. He glanced at the woman sitting on the edge of the bathtub and sighed. “Why am I doing this?”

“Extra money.” Jen smiled at him. “Besides, you look hot in a tux.”

“Thanks for bringing it up.”

“You sounded like you could use someone to talk to. And since I doubted you would be anxious to see Joey, Dawson or Andie, I figured it was up to me.”

“You could have asked Jack.”

“He’s at the student union.” She smiled. “And Doug says hi.”

“But no ‘I told you so’?”

“He stopped saying that when you finally split up with Andie.”

Pacey shrugged, raising his hands to fix his bow tie. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Everyone asks about you.”

His voice was skeptical. “Everyone?”

“Pacey…”

“What do you tell them?”

“That I haven't talked to you.” She stood up and walked over to him, fixing the tie he’d managed to mess up. “Do you want to know?”

He was quiet. Did he want to know how happy Dawson and Joey were now, how quickly she’d moved on after she’d gotten him out of her system? Did he want to know what progress their relationship had made since she’d admitted to him that she’d slept with Dawson one night while he was working? Did he want to know how much Andie hated him for using her to help him get over Joey?

“I saw Miss Jacobs.”

Jen’s eyes widened. “You what?”

He refused to look at her, instead staring at himself in the mirror. “I’ve been doing some landscaping stuff, you know, for extra money?”

“Yeah?”

“And we went to the university president’s house.”

“The house where you’re working the party tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“And?” Jen slapped his arm, forcing Pacey to look at her.

“She’s his wife.”

“The president’s?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I cleaned her pool.”

“And that’s a euphemism for…?”

“Nothing.” He grinned. “I actually cleaned her pool. And then I got the hell out of there.”

“You still have feelings for her?”

He left the bathroom and flopped down onto the couch, not caring if he wrinkled his tux. “I don’t know, Jen. I mean, with her…it all started with sex, you know? That’s all it was about, but then I got to like her and love her. She treated me with respect and she acted like I was an adult, even if that wasn’t the case.”

“That may have been to alleviate her own guilt, Pace.”

“I didn’t think about her for a long time. I mean, I had Andie and then that went down in flames. Then there was Joey…” His voice broke slightly on her name, the pain still fresh. “And that didn’t end well, by anyone’s definition.”

“But now you’re single and she’s back.”

“And I’m legal.”

“But she’s married. To someone who could take your college career by the balls and…”

“I get it.” He looked down at his hands. “But it doesn’t make me want her any less.”

“Do you want her, Pacey? Or do you want someone to take your mind off of Joey?”

“Both.” He got up and walked to the refrigerator, not wanting to look Jen in the face. “I’m so fucked up. I guess Doug and my dad were right all along. I’m destined to be this much of a screw up. It’s written in the stars.”

“The fact that she’s going to be there tonight doesn’t mean that something’s going to happen between you, Pacey.”

“The entire time I was cleaning her pool, I was staring at her, wondering what it would be like to be with her again. I had a raging hard-on the entire time. If Dan hadn’t been there too, I would have dragged her into the cabana and fucked her standing up.”

“Oh, Pace.” Jen shook her head and stood up, walking over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his back. “Nothing, and I repeat nothing, good can come of this. I understand that you’re still attracted to her, but starting things up with her again is only going to hurt you. Not her, Pacey. You.”

“I can’t hurt anymore,” he reminded her. “I’d have to have some semblance of a heart left for that to happen.”

“You’ve got too much heart, Pace. That’s your problem.” Jen stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to the base of his neck. “I know you’re not going to listen to a word I say, but be careful, okay?”

“I’m always careful, Lindley.”

She raised an eyebrow and released him, moving back a few steps. “Then why do you hurt so much?”

Joey’s name hung unspoken in the air as he headed for the front door. “You and Jack staying the night?”

“No, we’re heading home.”

“Lock the door behind you, would you? I’ve got to go.”

“Sure thing, Pace.”

He stopped at the door and turned to her, his eyes guarded. “Thanks, Jen. For everything.” The door closed behind him and she sighed.

“I haven’t done anything, Pacey.” She picked up her purse and headed for the door herself. “Except help you pick up the pieces.”

“Would you like more champagne?” Pacey held the tray just outside the group, letting his voice insinuate him into their conversation. As they turned, he angled the tray properly, smiling just enough.

“Tamara, where did you find this service?” A woman’s voice came from directly behind him, and it took all his concentration not to turn and see her. He’d managed to avoid her so far and he had no desire to change that. “They’re so efficient. Not to mention handsome.”

“Well,” Tamara’s laugh seemed to fill his senses. “I made sure to ask that they look the part.”

“You did a fine job.”

Pacey took a deep breath and turned, his tray in front of him like a shield. “Would you ladies like more champagne?” He raised his eyes, catching his breath as he caught hers. “Mrs. Templeton?”

“Thank you.” She nodded slightly and took a glass. Her companion did the same, her eyes raking over Pacey.

“I must get the name of this company, Tamara. Especially if he comes as part of the package.”

The corner of Tamara’s mouth lifted in a smile, her eyes venturing southward, stepping back just slightly so that the tray didn’t impede her view. “I’m sure his package is more than you can afford, Vivian.”

Pacey barely bit back his smile in time to keep the other woman from seeing it. Another member of the serving staff stepped out into the main room and set off the triangle to signify that dinner was about to be served. “Enjoy your meal, ladies.”

The older woman blushed and moved passed him without comment. Tamara followed her at a more sedate pace. “I’m sorry about that,” she whispered as she went by.

“No need, Mrs. Templeton. It’s one of the reason you pay us so much for our…services.”

She stopped walking and turned back to face him. “I’m not paying you for that, Pacey.”

“Not paying us to ignore the not so subtle come-ons of your guests? Then you must be paying us to take them up on their bravado?”

“I’m paying you to serve champagne with a smile on your face. And I’m paying you to look good.”

“According to your other guest, I’m doing both just fine.”

She looked over at a man standing just inside the doorway to the dining area. Pacey followed her gaze, recognizing him from his college handbook.

“Your husband is waiting.”

“So he is.” Tamara took the last champagne flute from Pacey’s tray and smiled. “And remember, Pacey. Good help is hard to find. But it’s not irreplaceable.”

“Would you like an after dinner brandy?” He was getting sick of the question, even more sick of the smell of smoke and alcohol that pervaded the room. The study area was crowded with people and he couldn’t wait until he’d finished his round in this room. The next tray was set for the patio, and if he had to kill someone to get it, he was taking it out there.

The final drink gone, he headed back to the bar.

“Anyone claimed the patio?”

Dan shook his head. “I figured you might want it. Apparently everyone else is content to stand around amidst the pseudo-intellectuals and absorb their knowledge.”

Pacey grabbed the tray. “Dan, we’re the pseudo-intellectuals. They’re the real thing.”

“Damn. I knew I had it wrong.” He filled the last glass on the tray. “Don’t fall into the pool. Or the hostess.”

“What?” Pacey’s attention went back to his roommate. “What did you say?”

“Oh come on, Dude. You’ve got a thing for Mrs. Templeton.”

“I do not.”

“Whatever.” Dan started filling another tray. “But I see you watching her, the way that lavender silk caresses her body.”

“I think I may not be the one with a thing for the hostess.” Pacey pushed down the strange stirrings, not wanting to think about Dan thinking about Tamara. Not wanting to think about Tamara himself.

“She’s hot,” Dan shrugged. “For an older woman.”

“I’ll tell you something about older women,” Pacey picked up his tray and lifted it to his shoulder. “They know exactly what they want. And they know the best way to get it.”

“What’s that?”

He grinned back at his roommate. “Train a younger man.”

The pool’s surface was covered with hundreds of small, floating lit candles, casting a romantic glow around the back patio. Pacey made his way down the stone steps and wove through the crowd, offering brandy to the guests. Inhaling the fresh air into his lungs, he dodged wandering hands from both the men and the women, working his way to the pool’s edge.

“You did a nice job.”

He turned slightly, even though he didn’t need to see her to know it was her. “Tonight? Or on the pool? Or is this a post-dated critique of my performance in high school?”

“I meant on the pool, but I suppose you could take it any of those ways.” She placed her hand against her neck, rubbing the tight muscles. “I hate these things.”

“Parties?”

“Socializing with people who say all the right things at all the right times, who don’t know half of what they’re talking about. They speak the words they read in all the proper magazines, books and treatises, not caring if what they say is wrong or doesn’t make sense or completely contradicts what they said two minutes ago to the person on the other side of you.”

“I guess this would be one of the sacrifices you have to make to marry into the world of the university president.”

“He wasn’t president when I married him,” she informed him. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“None of this is my business, Mrs. Templeton. I’m just the hired help.”

“That’s why I like Vivian. She may be a little…oversexed, but she’s not afraid to say whatever’s on her mind. Not giving a damn about whether or not it’s been officially sanctioned by a professor at Cornell.”

“As I recall, you always had a great appreciation for the oversexed.” Pacey held his tray out in front of her. “I’ve got one left, Mrs. Templeton. Would you like an after dinner brandy?”

“Thank you, Pacey.”

He closed his eyes, letting her voice wash over him. “I should go in, get more drinks.”

“You should,” she nodded. He could see her hair moving out of the corner of his eye, and all he could think about was how good it felt running over his body. He pressed his lips together and inhaled deeply.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Templeton.” He turned to leave, stopping when her hand grabbed his arm.

“Wait.”

“For what, Tamara?” He dropped his voice, the rough whisper filled with emotion she didn’t want to identify. “For you to flirt with me a little more, maybe get a kick out of the fact that your guilty secret is waiting tables at your big soiree? I’ve got work to do and a paycheck to earn. We can’t all marry well.”

He pulled away from her, heading for the house. The majority of the guests had headed back inside but she just stood there by the side of the pool, her arms wrapped around herself, staring after him.

He approached her slowly; not sure of what kind of reception he’d get. She was standing in the library, having said goodbye to most of the guests not long ago. There was still a group gathered around her husband and her friend Vivian was sitting at the bar, talking with Dan. But other than that, they were alone.

“Mrs. Templeton?”

She looked up, her expression fixed. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry.” He stepped closer, still keeping a respectful distance between them. “You may not know this about me, but my mouth has this huge tendency to get me into trouble. I have a habit of speaking before I actually put any thought into it.”

“Really? I’ll have to be aware of the character flaw.” She gave him a small smile. “You hide it so well.”

“I’m a man of many secrets.”

“Too many of which you told Dawson.” His face hardened and she regretted her words instantly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

“It’s nothing.” He shook his head. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said. I had no right.”

“You might have had a little right, Pacey. As true as it was that there was no future for you and I, it doesn’t change the fact that the feelings we felt for each other were real, and far more adult than either of us were being at the time.” She reached for his hand and squeezed it quickly before releasing it once more. “I ran away, not knowing how to handle it any other way. And while we had a nice completion when I came back…I still…miss teaching, Pacey.”

“It’s mutual.” He grinned. “Miss Jacobs.”

She laughed and shook her head, watching him as he walked away. “What’s so funny, darling?” Turning her gaze from Pacey, she smiled up at her husband.

“He was telling me something Vivian said to him. I warned him about her when Viv obviously set him in her sites.”

“Looks as if her attention has turned elsewhere.”

Tamara nodded, glancing at the bar where Pacey had just joined Vivian and Dan. “She’s never been selective, just so long as they’re cute.”

Her husband put his arm around her and guided her back over to their guests. “And breathing.”

“You really think she’s that selective?”

He laughed. “We have the strangest friends.”

“You have no idea…”

Dan handed Pacey the keys to his truck. “You get home okay, Pace?”

“You’re insane. You don’t even know this woman.” Pacey took the keys and shook his head, trying his best not to smile.

“I’ll be careful, Mom.” Dan smirked. “Just clean the place up so we don’t get fired, okay?”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me like this, Daniel.”

“Oh quit your bitchin’.” Dan grabbed his coat from behind the bar. “And snag us a couple bottles before you leave. They’ve got the good stuff.”

“Have fun with your sugar-momma.”

“I wish. Dude, she wants to keep me, I’m all for it. I wouldn’t have to scrounge around with you for money.”

“We do pretty well…”

“Yeah. How many other jobs you got, Pace?”

“Just get the fuck out of here.” Pacey gave him a shove toward the door. “Go.”

“Night.”

Pacey just shook his head as Dan left, staring at the darkened room. Everyone had left, Vivian waiting until Dan was done working before being the last to leave. Mr. Templeton had gone upstairs before she’d gone and Tamara was still at the door, saying goodbye.

Grabbing a plastic tub, he started circling the room. He made his way carefully, picking up glasses, ashtrays and other assorted things. There were a few plates, drink trays and other things he wasn’t sure he wanted to identify.

“You get to keep anything you find that you like.” Tamara’s voice came from the bar.

“That’s kind of a loaded offer,” Pacey said softly. He cast a glance toward the stairway. “You don’t have to stay here with me, Mrs. Templeton. I’m sure the servants could lock the door behind me.”

“They will.” She agreed with him, getting off the stool she was perched on and walking toward him. “I just wanted to say goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Mrs. Templeton.”

She stopped in front of him, her eyes locked on his. Her hand rose of its own volition, stroking his cheek with the faintest of touches. “Goodnight, Pacey.”

He covered her hand with his and pressed it to his cheek, letting the slightly stubbled skin brush her palm. He turned his face and placed a soft kiss to the delicate flesh. His tongue traced her lifeline then, unable to breathe; he released her and stepped back, not meeting her eyes. “Goodnight, Tamara.”

Pacey set the last of the glasses on the drainer and rolled his neck. The muscles seemed to shout out in protest, until it finally popped. He tucked the towel into the rack and sighed. He hated getting stuck with cleanup. Especially since he knew what Dan was getting up to right about then. Getting up being the operative word.

With a small smile dancing on his lips, Pacey headed into the other room. He grabbed his jacket and draped it over his arm, casting one quick look around before he made his way home. He was turning to leave when the door to the room snapped shut.

His pulse began racing. “I thought we said goodnight.”

“We did.”

“So what brings you down here? Making sure I’m not taking off with the good silver?”

She shook her head, stopping in front of him. “I don’t know what I’m doing down here, Pacey. I don’t know what it is about you that makes me take leave of all my senses and do the stupidest things I can possibly imagine. I don’t know why you had to come back into my life.”

“I think I might have an answer.”

She laughed quietly, “And what would that be?”

“This.” He stepped in toward her, closing the short distance between them. His hand ran along her neck, cupping the tanned column of skin and bringing her closer to him. His lips grazed over hers, barely touching.

Tamara moaned into his mouth, opening hers so that he could slide inside the hot cavern, seeking out the intimate surfaces. His tongue explored her, remembered her. He found the places he knew would affect her, send shivers through her body, force her to clutch at him, cling to him.

Her body trembled in his hands. One massaged her neck, easing the tension that had been there all night, the result of wanting him and refusing herself the opportunity to have him. The other was slipping along the silk of her dress, lifting it so that he could find the far more tempting skin of her thighs.

Her hands moved as well, over his back, feeling the hard muscles moving beneath the fabric of his shirt. With a few tugs, she freed it from his waistband, letting her hands disappear under the thin cotton and smooth over the skin she’d coveted just a few short days ago.

Pacey groaned and ran his hand down from her neck, along her back until he reached the curve of her ass. With skilled hands, he gathered her dress, lifting it above her hips, all the while guiding her backwards. Tamara started as she felt the pool table behind her, then grinned against his lips. “What are you doing, Pacey?”

He shook his head, refusing to answer. He moved his lips from hers, letting them explore the length of her neck and the smooth line of her jaw. His tongue then found the hollow beneath her ear and as she shivered, he lifted her up onto the table behind them. His kisses slipped lower, tracing the edge of her dress down the impressive show of cleavage. Nuzzling the fabric aside with his nose, Pacey kissed the curve of her breast with hungry lips, seeking out the hard nipple hidden beneath the lacy wisp of a bra.

Tamara reached up and eased her dress off her shoulders, letting it fall down her arms. Her bra straps followed, allowing him easier access to the aching peaks of her nipples. Pacey’s mouth found the hard nub easily, sucking it between his lips. His tongue flicked over the distended tip as he suckled it lightly. His other hand raised to the other breast, kneading the creamy flesh with eager fingers.

Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him to her breast. Her body arched forward, offering herself up to him unabashedly. Pacey broke away from her succulent flesh, inhaling the scent of their combined arousal. His eyes were black in the dim light of the room as they met hers. Tamara held his gaze, amazed at how much of the young boy she’d known and loved still remained in him. “Pacey?” She asked quietly.

He grinned impishly at her. His hands moved up to her shoulders and he carefully guided her back onto the table. She lay back on her elbows, keeping her gaze trained on him. With the same amount of care and finesse, he slid her dress up her thighs, exposing the thigh high stockings she wore along with the matching lavender garter belt. “Did you wear these just for me?”

Her voice was lost somewhere in him as her tongue darted out to wet her lips. She nodded, her gaze hungry for him. Pacey closed his eyes, leaning into her to place a kiss at the apex of her thighs, his tongue pushing past the swollen flesh to touch her clit.

Her hips bucked upwards as he pulled away, not wanting to lose the sweet contact. Pacey savored the taste on his tongue as he reached down to unfasten his slacks. His eyes stayed on her as he moved closer. Placing his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer to him then reached for his cock. He used his hand to swipe it along the length of her cleft, letting the hot liquid of her arousal cover the tip before guiding it to her opening.

Taking a deep breath, Pacey pushed forward, filling her. Tamara winced slightly, her body adjusting to his size and obvious arousal. He was thick and hot inside her, his cock pulsing with need. Her muscles seemed to clutch at him and she could feel him responding, throbbing in time with her body’s reactions.

He stood there motionless, letting their bodies adjust to one another, remember one another. He closed his eyes and breathed, his mind processing random thoughts, wondering vaguely if his neck muscles were throbbing in time with his cock. Grasping her hips, he brought her closer still, feeling his shaft penetrate her willing flesh.

She was slick with heat and desire as he began thrusting, pushing with his hips while using his hands to pull her into him. They moved slowly and steadily, the soft rustle of silk against the felt of the pool table the only sound in the room until her legs wrapped around his waist.

Pacey growled deep in his throat and increased his speed, pushing into her hard and fast, needing to possess her, needing to reclaim something he hadn’t even known he lost. The muscles of his legs and ass flexed in time with his thrusts, taking her savagely with passion and anger and hurt and love. Tamara’s eyes were as wild as his own, her body meeting his with just as much unspoken emotion.

His soft grunt accompanied the rush of his orgasm, filling all the places his cock couldn’t reach. She tightened her legs around him, keeping him thrusting. Pacey complied willingly, slipping his hand between them to find her slippery clit. His thumb massaged the hard flesh, teasing it until she was gasping for air, the hot flood of her climax coating him.

They stopped moving eventually; both of them lost in a world of satisfaction and confusion. For as intently as they’d gazed at one another during their lovemaking, they both found they could no longer meet each other’s eyes. He slipped out of her slowly, quickly tucking his cock back inside his boxers and slacks. He held out a hand and helped her down from the pool table. Looking around, he found a towel from one of the servers and offered it to her.

Tamara cleaned up as much as she could and managed a weak smile. “I…I should probably show you out.”

“Yeah.” He grabbed his jacket again. “I should get going.”

She turned on the light, flooding the room with a brightness that made it even easier not to look at one another. “It was good to see you again, Pacey.”

“You too, Miss Jac…Mrs. Templeton.” He backed away toward the door, stopping when it swung open.

“Tamara?”

She flushed, wondering if the room smelled of sex and passion. What the hell had she been thinking? “Michael.”

“I thought you were coming to bed?”

“I was. I wanted to see…Michael, this is Pacey. Pacey Witter. He used to be one of my students.”

Her husband’s eyes took in Pacey’s rumpled appearance, narrowing slightly. “It looks as if our party was a little rough on you, Pacey.”

“No sir. The party was fine. The clean up is always a killer.” He shifted his jacket from hand to hand, wanting to be anywhere else.

“So you were one of Tamara’s students?” His eyes swept over to his wife and his smile grew thin. “Where was that? Capeside?”

Pacey watched Tamara’s face and knew that, as much as they may have gotten away with in the past, they were most definitely caught now. If it hadn’t all been so tragic, it would have been humorous that this time it was she who was going to take the fall for their indiscretion. “No,” Pacey said firmly. “Providence.”

“Really?” His gaze turned back to Pacey and he met it evenly.

“Yeah. That was after you left Capeside, wasn’t it, Mrs. Templeton?”

“Yes,” Tamara agreed, tears stinging her eyes. “It was.”

Pacey nodded, giving her husband a nod. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get home. It was a pleasure working for you both this evening.”

Mr. Templeton’s voice followed him all the way to the door. “I’m sure it was.”

He was well on his way through the second bottle of booze he’d stolen from the Templeton’s house when the knock came. He forced himself to his feet and made his way to the door. He knew she’d be standing there when it opened, knew without a doubt why she’d come.

“So, Miss Jacobs, I managed to ruin your teaching career all those years ago. Did I manage to fuck up your marriage tonight?”

“No.”

He smirked. “Wow, I can’t even fuck stuff up right. I really do suck.”

She bit her lower lip, reminding him way too much of someone he didn’t want to remember. “I wanted to thank you, Pacey.”

“It was my pleasure, Tamara.” He managed a drunken bow, barely keeping himself on his feet. “It is always an honor to serve the ladies of Capeside with my sexual prowess.”

“That wasn’t what I was thanking you for.”

“Pity.” He took a hefty drink from the bottle. “That’s what I’m best at.”

“No, Pacey.” She moved into the apartment and sat down on his couch. He flopped down across from her on the floor, his back against the wall. “You’re best at saving people from themselves.”

“You don’t know me,” he said quietly. “If you did, you’d know that was a fucking lie.”

“You saved me on more than one occasion.”

“Which time would that be? After I talked in front of someone at the school and got the whole subject brought before the board in the first place? Or after I screwed you in your husband’s house, right under his nose? I don’t excel at saving people from themselves, Tamara. I excel in saving my ass.”

“And mine.”

“Well, you just got lucky.” He took another drink. “So, you’re still happily married.”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

“Although I do think it would be best if you didn’t do the landscaping at the house anymore.”

“What? I’m not still your favorite pool boy?” He laced the sentence with both meanings, his eyes not meeting hers.

“You are.” She sank down onto her knees at his feet and used two fingers to raise his chin. Forced into looking at her, Pacey managed a sad laugh.

“Go home, Tamara.”

“Not until I know you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m always okay. Just ask…”

“Who, Pacey? Who hurt you so badly?”

He laughed and shook his head, freeing it from her grip on his chin. “Nobody. Myself. I was stupid enough to believe in a dream I had. And it all came crashing down. It’s a running theme in my life.”

“Mine too.” She got to her feet and headed for the door. “But it got better, Pacey. And I did have a dream or two come true.”

“Yeah?” He took another hit from the bottle. “And how many of those did I mess up for you?”

“None, Pacey.” She gave him one last smile before she shut the door behind her. “You were actually one of them.”