The bitter of the coffee was cut with the thick sweet of the chocolate as she took a long sip from her iced mocha, her hand absentmindedly spearing the crushed ice with her straw. Her eyes stayed on him, moving along the low line of his shorts, the hint of white of his boxer briefs that strayed above his waistline. She could see the shift in the firmness of his thighs, the gusty winds plastering the khaki material to his skin.

Her eyes traveled up his back, his chest as he turned slightly to the side, the dark hair sprayed across his chest standing out in dark contrast to the rosy blond on his head. It was thick and fell in waves down to the nape of his neck, the curl that threatened whenever he let it get too long almost taking control.

He raked his hand through the thick mass and she moaned into her straw, trying to pull her eyes away. She set her drink down and slid off the stool, walking toward the door. He grabbed the railing and swung off the boat, landing on the dock.

She stopped and stared, her eyes hungry for him as he moved toward her, the smell of sea and sweat and sunlight radiating off of him as she swallowed hard and took a step, bringing herself directly in his path.

He stopped, his bright eyes narrowing. "And just when I thought I'd managed to escape my own personal hell."

"You didn't expect me to haunt you, Pacey?"

"Yeah." His eyes raked over her, found her wanting. "Lucky me."

She handed him a small slip of plastic. "Room 708."

"You really think I'm going to show up and fuck you, Joey?" He laughed, his smile hard. "You're even more delusional than you were in high school."

"You'll show up." She pressed her fingertip to his bare chest, scraping over the nipple before sliding it down to the waistband of his shorts. "You'll show up and you'll be hard and hot. And you'll be dying to be inside me." She moved closer, her voice dropping, thickened by the heat between them. "You can't help yourself."

"You keep dreaming, Joey."

"I don't have to dream about it, Pacey." Her hand slid lower, cupped his erection through his shorts. "The reality is all I need."

The water was hot, burning his already overheated skin, pounding against his shoulders, slightly red from too long in the sun. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the spray, feeling the sweat and tension seep out of him. His hair slicked back, wetly dark, a vibrant contrast to the bleached mistake he'd come to enjoy. His lips curled up in a predatory smile. One he'd come to enjoy the benefits of.

He turned the water off and raked his hands through his hair, wringing the excess water from it. Pushing the sliding door to the side, he reached out and grabbed his towel, wrapping it low around his waist. He swiped his hand across the steamy mirror and stared at his reflection.

"Fuck." He whirled away from the mirror, slamming his way out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. The white plastic card gleamed in the fading afternoon light spreading through his thin curtains. Grabbing it, he snapped it in half and tossed it in the trash. His breath was rushed and hot, burning as it puffed out of him in short, hard pants.

The hanger twanged hard, smacking against the wood door as it flew off the bar, the shirt wrinkling in his tight grip. Pulling it on, he buttoned it slowly, trying to control the hot anger boiling inside him. His boxer briefs were next, his shorts pulled over them, his cock trapped beneath the zipper. The pale blue of his shirt brought out his eyes, the darkness of his thin beard and moustache.

His hand rubbed his chin then raked through his hair again, grabbing his watch off the dresser. The metal was cool on his skin, the snap of the clasp filling the room. Opening the small refrigerator, he pulled out a beer, twisting it open and downing half of it in one long swallow, his neck arched as it slid down his throat.

The bottle shattered against the wall. "Fuck!" He grabbed his wallet, shoving it in his back pocket. The door slammed behind him, leaving the sound of the splintering glass in his wake.

Joey left her room, stopping in the doorway as she saw him, leaning against the dirty green truck, his eyes flashing with fury. She crossed her arms over her chest, her heart thudding against her ribcage. "I expected you hours ago."

His hair was still wet, dark and light as it dried in the heated air. He straightened, towering over her as he walked toward her. His hands found her arms, lifting her slightly, pinning her to the wall of the building. "I'm not your fucking puppet, Joey. I'm not your dog on a leash, coming and going at your beck and call. You want to get fucked, Joey, you find some other idiot. I'd rather drown in quicksand than find myself between your thighs again."

She stumbled as he released her, turning on his heel before her feet had even hit the ground. "You're here, Pacey." Her voice was mocking. "And you can try and convince yourself that you really came here to tell me off, but we both know the reason you're here is because you want me. You want your cock in my pussy. You want to sink your teeth into my skin. You want it so fucking bad and you hate yourself for it."

He unlocked the truck and opened the door, his body tight with rage.

"More than you hate me, Pacey. But you still want it. And eventually you'll be back for it." She walked over to the truck, standing in the open door. His body was tight on the seat, his hands clenched around the steering wheel. "You want me, Pacey."

"I want a lot of things that are bad for me, Joey." He looked at her, his eyes smoky and flat. He lit a cigarette and took a long draw from it before stubbing it out on the open window frame right next to her hand. "But you'd be amazed at how good I am at controlling my appetites."

The roof of his building was flat and black, the tar sticky as he walked across it, the heels of his tennis shoes seeming to melt into it in the heat. He pulled off his t-shirt and draped it over the back of the lawn chair before sprawling out on it. The beer was already warm, beads of sweat covering the bottle as he took a drink.

He listened to the waves crash below him as he closed his eyes beneath his sunglasses. The bags under his eyes, the signs of his sleepless night, hidden by the dark shades. More warm beer in his throat, on his lips as he rested his wrist on the top of his head, the muscles of his arm sliding under his skin as he moved.

"I somehow knew you'd have a view of the sea."

He took another drink and smirked at nothing. "Because you know me so well?"

"I used to know you better than anyone." She sat on the chair next to his, not looking at him. She wore shorts and a bikini top under a loose, see-through, peasant blouse. "You must hate that."

"Not really." He finished his beer and set the bottle aside, moving it just out of reach. "Because I'm not the same guy you used to know. Not the same guy who was ever stupid enough to believe you. To trust you. So you really don't know me at all."

"I knew where you'd be."

"I live here, Joey. It's not like it was a stretch." He reached behind him and unhooked the chair back, letting it recline all the way. He rested both hands above his head, his body fighting to relax despite the aura of tension he wore around her. "What do you want?"

"You know what I want, Pacey." She placed her finger at the crook of his elbow, running it down the length of his bicep, over his chest to the hard nub of his nipple. She circled the tight flesh, the pad of her finger tracing the darker skin of his areola. "What we both want."

"Want is different than need, Joey." He caught her hand and put it away from him as he sat up then stood. She rose as well, her body close to his, the fabric of her shirt brushing his flat stomach, ruffling the dark hairs that disappeared into his waistband. "It's been two and a half years." He ran his finger along her cheek, brushing back her chestnut hair. She stared at him as he bent his head, his breath brushing her lips, parting them. "And in all that time, I can honestly say, I haven't once gone to bed wondering where you were, who you were fucking. In fact," his tongue darted out, brushing her lower lip. "I think it's safe to say that I haven't thought much of you at all, Joey."

He stepped away, moving toward the door back into the apartments, not looking back.

Joey sat on the bar stool, watching as he moved toward the table. He was comfortable in his skin. He moved with fluid grace, weaving between outstretched hands, cigarettes, drinks and tables without spilling the nearly overflowing shot glass he carried.

He slid onto a chair at a full table, wrapping his arm around the redhead sitting next to him. He leaned in front of her, bringing the shot to his lips and downing it before turning and kissing her. Joey licked her lips, watching the brief flash of tongue as he moved closer, pulling the other girl into him.

Turning back to the bar, Joey ordered another drink and sighed, staring down into her empty glass. "Tequila Sunrise?" The bartender set the drink in front of her then looked over her shoulder. "He's otherwise occupied."

She looked up. "What?"

"Witter. He's taken for the night, so don't bother trying."

"Just for the night?"

He shrugged. "He's not one for romance, honey. Four bucks."

Joey handed him a five and turned around in her seat, her eyes going back to his chair. It was empty, and she searched the darkened room for him. He was on the dance floor, obviously ignoring everything he'd learned at the Starlight, except the "ribcages touching." His ribcage was touching the redhead's. As were his thighs, his hands, his lips…

She took a sip of her drink, watching them with narrowed eyes. The girl's hands were on the curve of his ass, roaming over the denim that covered it. Their bodies moved in unison, their kiss deep and liquid. She took another sip then set her drink on the bar. The bartender was still behind her, watching her. "What about his friend?"

"You're going to try and get to him through his friend? You've got some real class, lady."

"I didn't ask for an editorial." Joey smirked. "Is his friend into romance? Dating anyone?"

"Not that I know of."

"Great. Thanks." Joey slid off the stool and approached Pacey's table. The group looked up. She smiled at one of the guys she'd seen on the boat with him before. "Dance with me?"

He gave her a knowing smile and shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" Getting to his feet, he grabbed Joey's hand and led her to the dance floor, within sight of Pacey and his redhead. "Joey, right?"

"Pacey's talked about me?"

"In not so glowing terms."

"Let me guess, he told you I was a lying, manipulative bitch who used him and abused him?"

"Actually, he said you were an uptight cunt who wouldn't know what to do with a cock if she had written instructions." He smiled at Joey's widened eyes. "I'm Michael."

"You really think I care?" She snapped.

"Don't kill the messenger, toots." He leaned in. "Why don't you tell me your side of the story and I'll see if I think he's a little biased in his assessment of your abilities. Or maybe you'd prefer to show me?"

"Are you providing the written instructions?" Joey shoved away from him and started walking back to the bar, stopping when she noticed Pacey escorting the redhead toward the back of the room, disappearing down the hallway leading to the bathroom. Michael was behind her, his body hard against her, his breath hot in her ear. "He's going to fuck her. He's going to slide her onto the bathroom counter, lean her back against the mirror and fuck her until she screams." He grabbed her hips, moving them both slowly to the thick music. "And Heather, she screams pretty loud. You'll probably be able to hear the magic moment from here."

"He fuck her a lot?"

"From time to time." His hands slipped around her waist, resting on the low-slung waistband of her jeans. "Tell me what you did and I'll tell you if you have a chance of getting him inside you again."

"What are you? His screener?"

"I'm his friend," he reminded her, nibbling on her earlobe. "And I can easily tell him whatever I fucking want about this conversation. Everyone at our table knows who you are and knows why you asked me to dance. So start talking."

Joey's eyes stayed locked on the dark hallway, her mind serving up a very clear picture of what was happening behind the closed doors. "It was the beginning of my sophomore year at college. Pacey's girlfriend had been in LA all summer long with the guy I was…promised to."

"Nice little ménage you had going on there."

He was probably fingering her, Joey thought. His tongue in her mouth, fucking the warmth of it as his fingers slid inside her, his thumb on her clit. Her skirt bunched up around her waist, her shoulders cold against the glass of the mirror.

"They flew back to Boston at the end of the summer, both of them acting differently. Audrey was really cagey around Pacey. Dawson couldn't look me in the eye. Didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened over the summer."

By now, his mouth was hot on her neck, sucking sweat and perfume from her skin. His teeth nibbling along her pulse as his free hand slipped her bra strap from her shoulder. Working his way down her neck to her shoulder, bending his head until he had a hard nipple between his lips, grazing the tight bud with his teeth.

"They fell in love?"

"They started fucking." Joey stated flatly as his hands slipped slightly lower, his thumbs hitching under her waistband, rubbing the flat skin of her stomach. "And they either couldn't or didn't want to stop when they got back to their significant others."

He'd forgo the other breast, making her gasp and grab at his head, wanting it given the attention he'd lavished on the other. Her fingers tangled in his blond hair as he unfastened his jeans and freed his cock, sheathing it with a condom before grabbing her hips with firm fingers and moving her to the edge of the counter.

"Pacey and I started hanging out together. Maybe we were bitter. Maybe we were lonely. I don't know. But we had a good time and then one night we started kissing. And then touching. And then fucking."

The tip against her body as his thumb still worked her clit. Her gasps like soft pleas for penetration, slipping into a sigh of pleasure as he finally pushed into her, filling her. Thick and hard and hot as he pushed deeper, stilling for a moment before he pulled back and began thrusting in earnest.

"We got serious. Dating. Talking about life after college. What he'd do, what I'd do. What we'd do together. One night, we were grocery shopping and he stopped at one of those little vending machines. He spent seven bucks trying to get exactly what he wanted. Finally, he opens the little egg and hands me this cheesy fake diamond ring, gets down on one knee in the middle of everything and asks me to marry him."

His fingers hard on her ass as he pulled her forward, not deep enough, never deep enough. Her mouth on his shoulder, nibbling and sucking and biting the darkly bronzed skin. Her breasts crushed to his shirt, nipples rubbing against the material, aching for his touch. The base of his cock rocking upward so that the rough hairs there scraped against her clit.

"I said yes and he slid the ring on my finger. Then I looked up and there were our ex-significant others. I don't know if I even noticed Audrey. But I noticed Dawson. Noticed him shove someone aside as he got out of there as quickly as he could."

Her heels digging into his ass as she cried out, her head hard against the glass as he moaned softly, her body clutching at his. Moving faster, pushing harder, filling her. Her gasps hanging in the air around him as she bites his shoulder, her teeth digging into his flesh to keep herself from screaming as he muffles his satisfied groan in her hair, coming deep inside her.

"Noticed him take off toward his car, only stopping when I caught up to him and grabbed his hand, not letting him go."

"You'd just gotten engaged to Pacey and you ran off after this other guy?"

"It's complex…"

"No. You're a cunt."

Pulling away reluctantly, kissing her softly. The condom disappearing into the trash, using the guise of helping her dress to toy with her swollen breasts and wet clit until she pushed him away teasingly. Taking mock offense, getting down on his knees and thrusting his tongue inside her, chasing the remnants of her orgasm, tasting her until she shivers above him and comes again, coating his tongue with her arousal.

"By the time I got back to the store, he was gone. The bags of groceries were just sitting there, all the stupid vending machine eggs piled on top. Audrey was gone too. He wasn't at his apartment when I got back. Never came home that night. The next day, I went back to my dorm room, which I pretty much had vacated when we started getting serious."

A predatory grin of satisfaction on his face, he took her hand and guided her toward the door, keeping her close to him.

"Audrey was there, sprawled out on my bed, thoroughly fucked. I imagine he nailed her in every position, every orifice, every way he could find, imagine or make up. She didn't talk to me as she got off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. A few days later, she moved into Pacey's old apartment with a friend of ours."

She shifted slightly in his arms as Pacey led the redhead out of the bathroom, his blond hair tangled messily, her hand held lightly in his. He locked eyes with Joey for a second before sneering at her.

"Pacey was gone?"

"Pacey was gone."

"And you didn't live happily ever after with your soulmate?"

Joey watched Pacey move back to the table and settle into his chair, pulling Heather onto his lap. She leaned in and whispered something to him and he replied, the whole table laughing, sure that the laugh was at her expense. Michael's use of the word she'd avoided jolted through her, letting her know the story wasn't a new one to him. She wondered how many details her version shared with Pacey's.

"I already told you," Joey pulled away from him, her eyes still on Pacey. "Pacey was gone."

Joey raked her fingers through her hair as she pushed through the coffee shop door, stepping into the thick heat of the day. She hadn't slept, waiting for Pacey to show up on her door. Which he hadn't done.

Shaking her head, she started walking back toward her hotel. She gasped as a hand closed around her upper arm, jerking her into the alleyway between two of the stores that lined the boardwalk. Her scream was cut off as another hand clamped over her mouth and hot breath caressed her ear. "Don't you ever fucking call me your soulmate. You got that?"

She nodded, trying to swallow the ebbing fear that had flooded her system. Pacey's hands released her and shoved her forward. She caught herself just in time, the rough brick scraping her palms. She turned warily, leaning against the wall. "It doesn't matter that it's true?"

"I'm not your fucking soulmate, Joey. I'm not any-fucking-thing to you." He shook his head, the movement bringing the soft red at his roots to life. "And you're not anything to me."

"Then why does it matter what I call you?" She took a step toward him, a slow smile spreading across her features. "I think I do matter to you, Pacey. I think I matter a lot and it pisses you off."

He grabbed her again, hands tight around her upper arms as he shoved her back against the wall, his body imposing in front of her, keeping her hard against the brick. "You mean nothing to me," he bit out between gritted teeth.

"Then let me go."

He released her again, stepping back. Joey blew out a long breath then turned to leave, her hand brushing his thigh then the hard bulge of his cock. Pacey growled low in his throat and grabbed her again, turning this time and pinning her to the forest green dumpster. "Why can't you take a fucking hint, Potter? You fucking ran after him, why the fuck couldn't you just stay gone?"

"You don't want me gone." Her hand curled around the outline of his erection, stroking him through the denim of his shorts. "You just want me."

He groaned and lowered his head, biting her lower lip until she gasped, her mouth opening. His tongue impaled her, tasting the hint of blood that he'd raised with his teeth. Joey matched his soft sound with one of her own, her body thrusting forward against him.

His hands found her ass, lifting her, swallowing her hiss as the dumpster scraped against her back, the soft rip of fabric as her shirt caught on something. He ground his cock against her body, breaking the kiss and panting for breath.

Supporting her with his knee underneath her, he used his body to hold hers to the dumpster. His hands found her shirt and ripped the buttons off, pulling the material apart then gathering the pale mounds of her breasts in his hands.

Joey whimpered as he handled them, his hands calloused from his time on the boat, the rough patches of skin scraping over her. He covered her nipples with his palms then concentrated his fingers on them, teasing them to harder peaks.

Pacey shifted his leg, lifting her higher as he bent down and caught one nipple between his teeth. Joey's fingers dug harder into him, the thin cotton of his shirt doing nothing to protect him from her nails as they broke through his skin. His teeth scraped her nipple in response and Joey cried out, biting hard at her lower lip to keep the sound from slipping out of the alley.

Pulling his head back, he smiled cruelly at her and moved his leg. Joey's feet managed to hit the ground quickly enough to support her, but her head slammed back against the metal of the dumpster and she winced hard. He wrapped his hand around the back of her head, thumb rubbing over the sore spot, digging in just enough to remind her of the hurt as he brought her mouth to his.

His free hand snaked down her flat stomach and found the waistband of her short, denim skirt then slipped further, bunching material as he went. As soon as it was high enough, he released the fabric and slid his hand between her thighs, smiling as he encountered the downy patch of hair, feeling it brush softly against his palm.

Ignoring her soft whimper, he slid two fingers inside her, his palm wet with her arousal. His thumb found her clit, applying firm pressure as he slid it over the hard nub. The whimper turned into a gasp and her nails dug harder into his shoulder, feeling the blood seep through the white cotton of his shirt.

Pacey groaned and pulled free of her grasp, bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking the taste of her from them. Joey watched him with hungry eyes, her body swaying forward, closer toward him. Pacey smiled, feral and predatory as he shook his head, grabbing her shoulders and turning her away from him.

Joey grabbed the slick handles of the dumpster as his hand pressed into the small of her back, bending her over as he pushed her skirt up, his other hand easing his cock free of his shorts. He released her long enough to remove the condom from his wallet and slide it on his cock, his hand settling again in the small of her back as she tried to move.

A slight shove, pushing her forward and Joey was against the metal, her bare breasts grazing the rough paint that covered the dumpster. He pushed into her, his hand moving around her waist and finding her clit, no longer teasing as he ran circles over it.

Joey hung onto the bar, her face turned to the side to avoid the heavy smell emanating from the dumpster, invading her lungs, stinging her eyes. Pacey's voice whispered against her ear, thrilling down her spine. "Is this what you wanted, Potter? To feel me fuck you?"

She nodded as his fingers left her clit, both hands grasping her hips and holding them as he thrust harder, deeper. She released the bar and braced herself on the dumpster as his every movement drove her into it, her hands the only thing keeping her body from resting on it completely.

Pacey continued talking, ignoring her struggles to keep away from the dirty surface. "Is that why you came here, why you followed me?"

"I needed…" she paused, her breath leaving her as her body stiffened, muscles clamping around his cock as she came. "You."

"You needed me?" He laughed harshly in her ear, his body still moving. "Tell me, Jo, is that why you fucking chased after Dawson less than a minute after I proposed to you?"

"Pacey, I…" She stopped as he tightened his grip on her hips, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled his cock free, shoving her away from him. She hit the dumpster, her relaxed arms providing no protection. She faced him, her hands moving up to stop the blood flowing from a cut above her eyebrow.

Pacey tossed the condom at her feet, not looking at her as he tucked his still erect cock back in his shorts. "You got your fuck, Joey. But that's all you're ever going to get from me."

Joey winced in the bright sunlight, slipping her sunglasses down from the top of her head, careful to avoid the butterfly bandages that held together the cut she'd received from the dumpster. The crowd around her surged forward, moving off the boardwalk to the beach, already littered with people.

The scent of onions and barbequed meat hung in the air as she drifted down the ramp to the shifting sand, avoiding a Frisbee game as she headed toward the shade of the pier. The stench of hot salt attacked her as she got closer to the water, the rotten smell of dead sea life clinging to the shore.

Shaking out her towel as she walked, she headed back toward the boardwalk. Setting her towel on the cool sand, she sat on it, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. She closed her eyes for a moment, listening to the shouts and noises of the rest of the people gathered on the sand.

"You here for the party?"

She looked up, lifting her sunglasses off at the sound of his voice. She smirked, her eyes knowing as she glanced over to his group of friends, already working on a bonfire. "Oh yeah. All set."

He returned her smirk. "What happened to your eye?"

You planted me face first in a dumpster while you fucked me, Joey thought, almost said. "Nothing. An accident."

"You should be more careful."

She shrugged, feigning nonchalance as he turned to leave. "Yeah, I suppose I should."

"Enjoy the party."

"You too." She watched him walk away, then turned her eyes back to the shore, the foamy waves crashing against the sand. Settling her glasses back over her eyes, she closed them and lay back, ignoring the sounds of the crowd.

The sharp whistle pierced the air and she woke with a start, blinking to adjust her eyes. The darkness stayed with her and she fumbled for the glasses, ripping them off her face. It was still dark, but she could see the groups of people gathered by the water's edge, staring up at the sky as it exploded in color, another whistle crying out in the night.

"Fireworks," his deep voice came from behind her and she turned in time to see him shove away from a piling buried deep in shadow and walk toward her. "You slept through dinner."

"I wasn't hungry."

"That's a lie, Josephine, and we both know it." She got to her feet, feeling the heaviness of desire in the air as he moved closer, his body against hers, his thigh sliding easily between both of hers. "You're hungry."

His lips brushed over hers as he spoke, his tongue teasing her flesh.

"You want me to fill you up, Joey?"

She nodded imperceptibly, opening her mouth under his. One of Pacey's hands tangled in her hair as he held her in the kiss, the other sliding down to the small of her back and pushing her body against his.

When they broke apart, she fought for breath, pushing at his bare chest to put distance between them. "Aren't you here with friends?"

His hand slipped down, untying the knot that held her skirt together, his fingers working their way into her bikini bottoms. "Do you really care?" He found her clit, playing with the hard nub as he sucked gently at the skin of her neck, warm and soft from sleep. "Because if you care, I could stop."

She reached down between them, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, holding him to her. "Stop."

He stopped touching her, freeing his hand and taking a step back. She grabbed his wrist again, halting his progress as she sank to her knees. She released him and lifted both hands to his waist, easing his swim trunks over his hips and lowering them over his erection.

Closing her eyes, she painted her lips with the tip before parting them, allowing him to push his cock into her with a slow, shallow thrust. Her hands moved to his hips, holding him lightly, feeling the rough brush of hair against her palms. Her tongue pressed against the underside of his cock, feeling the throb of his pulse as it slid inside her. Pacey sighed softly as her lips brushed the base, pausing for a moment before drawing back, leaving his wet skin exposed to the cool evening air.

She concentrated on the tip, sucking gently on the smooth skin before taking his length back in her mouth. Pacey's hand moved to her hair, stroking the back of her head then tangling in the dark strands and holding her still. Joey stopped, struggling to breathe as he thrust his hips forward. "As much as I like seeing you on your knees, Potter? I don't trust you enough to have my cock in your mouth."

He pulled away, releasing her at the last moment. She started to fall forward, catching herself in the sand. Looking up angrily, she got to her feet and advanced on him, both of them slipping out of the reach of the fire's light. "Then what the fuck are you doing here?" She bit the words out, her teeth clenched angrily.

"Exactly that, Jo." He grabbed her and turned her around, her back hitting one of the smooth pilings hard enough to hurt. One hand held her shoulder against the wood as the other tugged at her bikini bottoms. "Fucking you."

He bypassed her clit, thrusting his fingers up inside her. Joey closed her lips, trapping the moan that threatened to escape. Pacey's breath was hot on her face, the trace of liquor intoxicating. Without prelude, he pulled his fingers free of her, wiping them on her bikini top, brushing her nipple as he did so.

Joey's hips thrust forward, a soft mewling noise slipping past her closed lips. Pacey smirked in the darkness and leaned into her, his shoulder holding her pinned as he reached into his swim trunks, hanging loosely from his hips, and worked a condom free of his back pocket.

"That's really not necessary…"

He ripped the package open with his teeth then used one hand to free it from the foil. "I don't trust my cock in your mouth, Joey." He slid the condom on then moved, his fingers digging into her shoulder while the other hand guided his cock to her opening. "You really think I'm going to put it in your cunt without protection?"

He thrust as she opened her mouth to reply, changing her response to a moan. Still smirking, he moved both hands down to her ass and lifted her, feeling her legs wrap around him as he pushed deeper.

Joey's breasts pressed against his chest, the thin material of her swimsuit doing nothing to disguise the tight tips of her nipples, hard as they scraped across his bare chest. Her arms went around his shoulders, her fingers massaging his nape roughly as she bent her head and found his neck, sucking hard on the tanned skin.

Pacey groaned and thrust harder, his fingers digging into her ass as he shifted her, impaling her, his teeth pulling the strap of her bikini off her shoulder so that he could scrape them over her bare skin. Joey gasped, her mouth leaving his skin to inhale the smoke-thick air, the scent of sulfur suddenly overwhelming.

"Pacey," she begged, her mouth searching out his as he pushed deeper, higher. Splinters slivered off the wood, digging into her shoulders as he met her lips with his, his tongue forcing its way into her, mimicking the hard, harsh movements of his cock. Joey sucked at his tongue, holding it captive as her muscles clenched around him, her orgasm washing hotly over the thin layer of latex separating their skin.

Breaking the kiss, he sucked in air, his body stilling as he thrust his cock once more, feeling her body tighten around his again as he came. Her heels dug into his ass as he relaxed slightly, reaching back with one hand to unhook her ankles and force her to release him.

Joey cried out quietly as she slid the short distance down the piling, more slivers of silver wood piercing her skin. Pacey stepped back and pulled off the condom, tying it off. Joey's eyes instinctively went to the ground between them and he smirked, tucking his cock back into his swim trunks. "There's a $100 fine for littering on the beach." He reached down and picked up the remains of the packet, tucking the foil in his pocket. He headed toward his friends, giving her one last backwards glance. "And you're not worth it."

Joey walked into the nearly deserted bar, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. She moved slowly, deliberately, her gaze locked on the three men leaning against the burgundy stools, their own eyes turned toward the TV set and the silent baseball game.

She stopped, shoving one hand in the pocket of her shorts as she reached out with the other, laying just her fingertips along the back of his forearm. Pacey turned his head, his eyes cool, then shook it, downing the rest of the beer in his hand.

"Later, Witter." Both of his friends gathered their drinks and drifted over to a table, shouting at the bartender to turn up the volume. Joey's eyes flickered to the TV as the ball sailed out of the park.

"You've got quite a knack for driving my friends away from me, don't you, Jo?"

"What are you drinking?"

His eyebrow shot up. "You buying?"

"I'd like to talk to you…not," her voice dropped as the bartender looked in her direction. "Not fuck you. I need to talk, Pacey."

"Are you going to explain it all away, Jo? Soothe my broken heart with tales of how you had to tend to Dawson because he's fragile and I'm the strong one? How I've always been the strong one?" He laughed, signaling for another beer. "Because I'd really like to see you say that with a straight face. Maybe you can actually convince me the way you've obviously convinced yourself."

She slid a five across the bar as Pacey's beer was delivered, leaving her change sitting there. "It has nothing to do with Dawson."

"You believe that?" His voice was thick with sarcasm. "I had just fucking asked you to marry me, Joey. I got down on one fucking knee in front of half the local populace and asked you to be my wife and you said yes. And not two minutes later, you were running after Dawson, making sure his feelings weren't hurt."

"He's my friend."

"Yeah, well, at the time, I was your fucking fiancé."

"Is that why you slept with Audrey that night?"

"I didn't sleep with her, Jo. I fucked her. I fucked her pretty much like you told Michael the other night. We fucked and sucked and did a few things that I think are still illegal in the state of Massachusetts. But I can safely say that, while I was there, there was no sleeping whatsoever."

"I went home that night…"

"The second you stepped foot out that door after him, it ceased being home, Joey. It became one more place you've managed to ruin for me." He picked up his beer and swallowed half of it, licking the slight foam from his lips. "Like here." Straightening, he saluted her with the bottle. "Thanks for the beer."

She grabbed his arm, closing her eyes briefly as beer splashed out over his shirt. He exhaled slowly and threw her hand away from him. "I just want to talk."

"Funny, I'm pretty sure I've just been making it real clear that you and I don't have a fucking thing to say to one another."

"I'm sorry."

He laughed out loud, the rich sound echoing through the mostly empty room. "That's what you need to say to me?" He shook his head and faced her, his arms on either side of her as he pinned her to the bar. "You could say you're sorry for the rest of your fucking life, Potter, and I wouldn't believe you once."

"It's the truth." She licked her lips, tasting the heat of his closeness on the air. "Please talk to me?"

"And here I thought Dawson was the only one who ever got to hear you beg."

Joey looked at him for a long minute then got down on her knees. The sound of his friends hollering assaulted her as she looked up at him. "Please, Pacey?"

"I've already told you I don't trust your mouth around my cock, Joey. Get up." He grabbed her arm and lifted her to her feet, his voice low and hard.

"Will you talk to me?"

"I've got nothing to say to you."

"Will you listen?"

Pacey glanced around the room and sighed, closing his eyes and turning his head toward the ceiling. "Why couldn't you just leave me in peace, Potter?"

She took a shaky breath. "Is that a yes?"

"Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"The liquor store, so I have some chance of getting through this. And then your place, so you can say what it is you've got to say and then get the fuck out of my life."

Joey stayed in the car, watching him as he disappeared into the small building. She hadn't wanted him to disappear around a corner only to have his truck roar away without her. He grabbed a couple of bottles off the shelf then looked back through the glass storefront, finally turning back and grabbing another off the shelf.

When he climbed back in the truck, he handed the bag to her. "Do me a favor, Potter, and don't start talking until at least one of those is half-finished, okay?"

She nodded, glancing in the bag. Two bottles of Jack Daniel's and a bottle of vodka, the last one obviously from when he glanced out at her. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"First of all, I haven't had a drink yet and you're talking." He didn't glance at her as he reached into the bag and pulled out one of the bottles of whiskey. Holding the steering wheel steady with a few fingers, he twisted the cap off and downed a long shot. "Secondly, if what you're so determined to say is anything like what you've already been spouting off tonight? When I go off on you? You're going to need at least that much booze in you."

Joey watched him take another pull on the bottle before turning toward the passenger window. Pacey smirked and set the bottle between his legs, focusing his attention on the road, driving as if she wasn't in the truck beside him.

Pacey threw the truck into park outside her hotel room, grabbing the bottle and the bag without looking at her, leaning against the wall as she walked slowly toward him. She slid her key into the lock, pushing the door open as it flashed green, waiting until he walked in to enter and close the door behind them.

"All right, Jo." Pacey tilted the bottle and took another drink, setting it, half-empty, on the table. "Start talkin'."

"I've been looking for you since you disappeared. Between classes and jobs and every weekend I could spare, I've been looking for you."

"Lucky me." He sat at the table, leaning back in the chair, his legs crossed at the ankles, his eyes raking over her dismissively. "Is that it?"

"Every fucking town on the eastern seaboard, every coastal pit stop that could hold a boat. I searched them all. I was just about to give up. And then I saw you."

"And I suppose you think it's fate, right? Like we're destined to be together?" His mouth crooked up in a smile, his eyes narrowing. "Like we're soulmates?" He watched her flinch, his smile widening. "Tell me, Jo, what does Dawson think about that? Because the last I saw of your ass walking out the door after him, I was under the impression he owned you. Body. Soul." He sneered as his eyes raked over her again. "Pocketbook."

"You told me to take the money, Pacey."

"Tell me, does he know he's financing your excursions to find me? Does he know you're looking for me, getting fucked in back alleys and under piers, paying for hotel rooms with the express hope of finding me and getting me to fuck you until you come all over the mattress?"

"He's paying for school."

"He paid for your pussy to follow him around for the rest of his life, feeling guilty if you got pleasure out of anything that didn't involve him." He finished off the bottle and slammed it down on the table. Joey jumped slightly and stepped back. "Are we done?"

"I haven't seen Dawson since the day you left."

He laughed, the sound raking over her nerves like fire. "You expect me to believe that, Joey?" He advanced on her, his finger hard against her chest, hitting her sternum with every step. "You actually expect me, of all people, to believe that you can stay away from Dawson? You don't know who you fucking are without Dawson." He shook his head. "That's not true. You don't trust who you are without Dawson because it means you have to stand up for yourself and you can't blame everything wrong in your life on your father's prison sentence or your dead mother."

She slapped him hard, the sound silencing everything else in the room. The air conditioner seemed to sigh to a stop, leaving the chilled air hanging around them. "Fuck you."

"All that schooling and that's your witty repartee?"

"Get out."

"I thought you wanted to talk, Joey." His voice mocked her, his body still over hers, still advancing until she felt the smooth wall against her back. "I thought you wanted to tell me how you've been pining away for me, hoping that I'd come back and forgive you, since I was dumb enough to the first time, dumb enough to believe that you'd actually done some growing up, that you'd let go of your obsession with Dawson. But then, you liked that I was dumb, right, Joey? You liked being the smart one, the one with all the answers. You dated me because you thought you were better than me and, for once in your life, Joey Potter had the upper fuckin' hand."

"That's not why…"

"Or maybe it was just revenge, right, Jo? Get back at me for everything I'd ever done to upset or hurt you our entire lives by taking what was good in mine and twisting it all up in you?" He placed his hands on either side of her, his face close, the heavy scent of whiskey choking her. "I can't stand the fucking sight of you, Potter."

"Then why are you here?" Her voice broke, the threat of tears shaking it. "Why didn't you just leave me on my knees in the bar and walk away?"

"Because, Joey." He licked her lips. As she parted them further, he took the lower one into his mouth, biting down on the tender flesh. She hit at his chest until he grabbed her hands, forcing them back against the wall as he moved between her legs. "I wanted to see you cry."

"Fuck you," she bit out, her hands fighting against his grip. "Just fuck you. Get the fuck out. I fucking hate you. I hate you!" She stopped fighting as his fingers tightened around her wrists.

"Promise?"

She looked up at the soft voice, her eyes wide and flashing, her body flushed, her chest rising and falling quickly, brushing his, her nipples hard against his skin. "I hate you," she spoke the words this time, mesmerized by his eyes.

"Promise?"

She felt his fingers release her and she wrapped her hand around the base of his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. His mouth opened on hers, his tongue tasting blood as it slipped past her parted lips. Joey's tongue met his, pressing against it before capturing it in her mouth, sucking hard.

Pacey's groan was muffled as he stepped closer, his body rocking against hers, his cock hard underneath the thin khaki of his shorts. Pacey's hands grabbed her hair, fisting in the dark strands as he pulled her away from the wall, her body hitting his as he walked her backwards toward the bed.

He tripped over the bag of booze, sending them both to the floor, the crunch of glass underneath his feet coming quick on the heels of the scent of alcohol, seeping into the carpet as he rolled over, trapping Joey underneath him.

His hands moved along her sides, finding her shirt and freeing it from her shorts, tugging it up her body as he lifted his torso, slipping it off of her quickly. His body was back on hers as he found her breast with his mouth, nibbling at the tender flesh surrounding the nipple. Joey moaned, her body pushing up against his, her hands reaching up to play with his hair.

Pacey caught her hands and forced them to the ground, holding them as he levered his body against hers. She gasped as he captured her nipple again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin before he suckled it, his tongue flickering over the flat tip.

Her hips rocked into his as she fought to free her hands, wanting to touch him, to strip his clothes from him. He finally released her and she pulled off his shirt, moaning as cool air hit her wet breast when his mouth broke away from her skin. She tried again to touch him, to guide him back down to her chest, but he caught her hands and held her to the floor again, shifting between her spread thighs and pressing his hardened cock against the damp material there.

Moving her wrists together, he held them both with one hand, moving his other between them and sliding her zipper down. She thrust upward and he pressed hard on the warm flesh of her stomach, holding her to the floor. She lay there panting, watching him with frustrated eyes until his hand slid down and slipped beneath her wet panties.

Her clit was slick against his fingers as they moved over it, barely brushing the hard nub before sliding inside her. She cried out, the sound wavering as he removed his fingers, lifting them to paint her nipples with the moisture. "You want more, Joey?"

She nodded wildly as he pulled away, stripping her shorts and panties off of her easily. He parted her thighs, spreading them wider and staring at the wet, swollen skin as his hand moved over his cock, stroking it through the material.

"Say it."

"I want you, Pacey." She was breathless, reaching for him despite the fact that he batted her hands away every time they tried to touch him. "I want more."

"What do you want?"

"I want your fingers." She reached for his hand, her groan more of frustration than passion as he grabbed her wrist and put it away from him. "Your mouth." She reached up again, both hands pinned to the floor as his bare chest hovered over hers, his body against hers, the fabric of his shorts almost painfully rough against her body. "Your cock."

Pacey thrust forward, the material rubbing against her. Joey cried out, her hips grinding against his as the sensation hit, the scratchy surface sending a thick rush through her.

"Oh, fuck. Yes." She nodded erratically, her body moving from side to side as she fought to free herself from his grip. Her hands clenched and unclenched, trying to touch him. "Yes," she whispered this time as he released her, stripping off his remaining clothes before settling between her thighs again.

Joey sat up and touched his chest, stroking it, feeling the muscle and sinew under the bronzed skin, wanting to taste it. Taste him. Her hand went to his cock and she stroked the hard shaft, the tip painted the milky white of his pre-come.

"Pacey…"

He pushed her hand away, sliding the condom on with one hand, rolling it down the length of him. She watched, reaching out, wanting to stroke the sheathed shaft. Pacey grabbed her hand again and forced her back onto the floor, the carpet digging into her shoulders. "Beg."

"Please?"

"More."

"Please, Pacey?" She spread her legs wider, her hip joints throbbing in response. "I want you. I want you inside me and I want you to fuck me." Her feet were flat on the floor, her ass a mass of constricted muscle as she offered herself up to him. "I want you to fuck me like you fucked Audrey. I want your cock in my mouth and my ass and my pussy. I want to wake up next to you, wondering where you're going to fuck me next, Pacey."

"You want me to fuck you like you fucked me over, Joey?" The words were a dangerous whisper.

"I just want you to fuck me, Pacey." She was crying, tears leaking unnoticed from her eyes as she arched higher, her shoulders digging into the ragged carpet. "Please? Please?" She caught his gaze, held it. "Please?"

He thrust into her, burying his cock inside her. Lying on top of her, he let his full weight press down on her until he heard her gasp softly, before lifting himself up. "Say it again."

"Please?"

He thrust forward. "Again."

"Please."

Another thrust. "Again."

"Please."

Pacey thrust again, her response coming without any prompting. He watched her as he filled her, listening to her words grow weaker, higher, trembling until her body tightened around him, her orgasm pulsing along the length of his cock. Without thinking, he buried his face against her neck, inhaling the sweaty, sweet scent of her, his tongue moving over her flesh, tasting her as he moaned thickly, his body jerking as he came.

Joey whimpered as he pulled away, reaching for him as he got to his knees. He avoided her grasp and tossed the condom in the trash, lifting the edge of the liquor bag. He reached into it and pulled out the second bottle of whiskey, handling it carefully until he grabbed the bedspread and wiped it clean of her vodka.

He unscrewed the lid and took a healthy slug then offered it to her. "Drink?"

"I love you." She cleared her throat. "I still love you. I never stopped."

"You never loved me, Joey." He corrected her, his voice mocking as if he were talking to a child. "You bided your time with me until Dawson was finished with the latest blonde."

"What happened…" She stopped and lowered her eyes, staring at his chest. Dark hair curled around his nipples, spreading out over his chest sporadically until it evolved into the dark lush trail that shadowed his stomach. "What happened to your hair?"

"I got drunk. Agreed to let someone bleach it."

"Were you fucking her?"

"While she bleached my hair?" He shrugged. "Yeah. Part of the time, anyway." He took another drink and offered it to her again. "We were naked, she figured fucking me was the best way to protect me from getting any bleach on my cock."

"It looks…" She took the bottle and drank, shuddering as it ripped down her throat. "You look like someone who doesn't have any trouble getting fucked."

"I am someone who doesn't have any trouble getting fucked, Joey."

"Is that what you want? To go through life fucking random girls who bleach your hair or suck you off in the men's room of some club while your friends bet on how long it's going to take you to come?"

"I've made some good money on those bets." He shook his head as she took another drink, shuddering again through the burn.

"I thought you wanted to get married." She said softly. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"It was. But I found out the girl I asked to marry me didn't exist. She was just a disguise I saw you in, Joey. She wasn't real. And the reality of you…"

"I do love you." She moved closer, touching his hair, feeling the roughness left in the wake of the bleach. "I've missed you. Your touch." Her fingers ventured down across his face, caressing his cheeks, the tanned skin flushed and damp. "Your taste." She kissed him softly, her lips moving over his, her tongue gently pushing its way into his mouth.

She tasted the whiskey on his parted lips as she pushed him down onto the floor, her hands on his shoulders. Pacey lay back, his hands sliding underneath his head as she straddled him.

"I missed feeling you beneath me." She kissed along his jaw line, the slickness of her thighs wet against his body. She slowly worked her way down, her lips finding his chest, her tongue moving over each nipple with slow, languid licks. "I dream about you, about us."

He shifted slightly as his body responded to her mouth, her hot breath coursing over his skin as she moved down, planting kisses, tasting the sweat clinging to him. He closed his eyes as she traced his navel.

"You're all I think about, Pacey." She ran her tongue along the length of his cock, smiling slightly as it hardened further. "I close my eyes and I see you, remember what you used to do to me." Her lips parted and she pressed them to the tip, waiting just long enough to know that he wasn't going to stop her. Relief flooded through her as she slid him inside her mouth, pulling back to suck on the smooth head. Pulling away slowly, she held him loosely in her hand. "What I used to do to you."

His arms moved down to his sides and he rose up onto his elbows, opening his eyes slowly and nailing her with his hot gaze. She didn't look away as she released him, letting her hands roam over to his hips, her thumbs stroking the smooth flesh at the junction of his thighs.

"Will you let me make love to you again, Pacey? Let me remind you of what we had?" She glanced down as he shifted, his cock brushing against her arm. Her thumb moved over a dark patch of ink, delicate lines etched into his skin. She leaned down, examining the blue marking. "When did you get this?"

He shrugged, still watching her as her tongue swept over it. He shuddered slightly, his head lolling back slightly as he inhaled sharply. "After I left." She licked the spot again, watching his reaction, wondering if he allowed anyone to touch him there.

"What does it mean?" She asked, tracing the Chinese symbol with her fingertip.

He lay back on the floor, a smile painting the corner of his mouth. "You don't want to know."

"Is it because of me?" Her voice was soft, hopeful. She sucked on the skin and he let out a quiet groan. "Do you think of me, Pacey? Think about the things we used to do?" Her tongue moved over it once more, the skin that was normally slightly paler than the rest of his body now pink from her attention. "Am I who you're thinking about when you're fucking all those other girls? Was I really who you wanted riding you when you were getting your hair bleached? Who you were slamming into the other night in the bathroom?"

Her mouth moved along his cock, licking and sucking lightly at his skin before moving down to his balls, teasing the heated flesh. Pacey's thigh muscles tightened as she ran her fingers over them, raising goosebumps on his flesh.

"Have you missed me, Pacey?" She fumbled for her purse, pulling a condom from it and opening it, sliding it on him slowly, feeling the restraint in the tightness of the swollen flesh. She moved over him, pressing the tip of his cock against her.

He didn't respond, so she slid along his length, letting him fill her slowly. He lay still beneath her, though she could feel the insistent pulsing of his cock. Her hands flat on his stomach, she began moving, her body tight around his.

"Little Mermaid?" She asked quietly, hopefully, her body stroking him with every movement. "Future? Potter?" She reached down, grabbing his hands where they lay at his side and bringing them up to her breasts. She pressed them hard to her peaked nipples, moaning softly as he cupped his hands, supporting them lightly. His fingers stayed still, not touching or caressing her as she increased the speed of her steady movements. "True Love?"

She felt the spiraling heat fill her and clenched her hands around his, almost against her will. Her thrusts grew more frantic, wilder and tighter, her body grasping at his as she released his hands, dropping hers to his chest, scraping her nails across his nipples. Pacey jerked slightly, the sensation threading down his spine, his body pushing up into hers.

"Yes," she moaned, her body riding the wave of his thrust. "I've missed you," she whispered throatily, her hands tracing his arms, the veins beneath his skin, the muscles that rippled in his abdomen as he held himself in check. She gasped quietly, unable to hold back as her orgasm crashed over him. "I love you."

Pacey closed his eyes, not watching her as she came. His hand moved down his stomach, feeling for the hard nub of her clit and teasing it with his fingers. Joey cried out, her body shuddering above him. He grunted softly, pushing deeper as he came.

She slumped against him, her body hot on his. After a few moments, he rolled to his side, settling her on the carpet. He reached for the bottle and sat up, leaning back against the bed. Joey turned on her side and reached over, her finger tracing his tattoo. "What does it mean?"

He leaned over and captured her mouth, kissing her. His tongue pushed past her lips, whiskey heavy on his breath. He left her panting as he broke away, getting to his feet and making his way to the bathroom. Joey stood up, pulling the covers back before sitting on the edge of the mattress.

She bit her bottom lip as she heard the toilet flush, the water running, the light switch click off. He opened the door and stood there, watching her with eyes she couldn't see for a long time before he moved over to the bed and lay down. She moved next to him, curling up against his side. Her fingers brushed the tattoo once more. "What does it mean?" When he didn't answer, she sighed and snuggled closer. "I love you."

Pacey shook his head against the pillow, closing his eyes again. His own hand brushed the dark ink in the moonlight. "Liar."

Joey woke slowly, stretching in the sunlight streaming through the partially open blinds. She sat up, holding the covers against her bare breasts as she scanned the room. The bathroom door was open, his clothes no longer scattered across the floor. Sighing, she glanced at his side of the bed, her hand smoothing over the wrinkled sheets.

Her stomach growled and she smiled, remembering that he was always starving in the morning. "Breakfast in bed," she decided, slipping back down onto the mattress and pulling the covers back up to her chin.

She turned and grabbed his pillow, hugging it to her body, inhaling the scent of him. The soft rustle of paper caught her attention and she lay on her stomach, rising up on her elbows. She unfolded the slip of paper, a sense of dread replacing the hunger in her stomach.

His handwriting hadn't changed, the lazy scrawl reminding her of love notes and promises he'd made. She pressed her lips together, tears stinging her eyes as she lost the battle with her sob, rushing to the bathroom, allowing the paper to fall from her hands to the floor.

"Thanks for the fuck, Joey. I hope you enjoyed it. I know I did. But then, fucking you was always better when you were under the delusion that it meant something."

07/11/02