Beyond the Pale

"This is a nightmare!" Joey fumed as she paced back and forth, back and forth across the board floor of the lookout tower at Fort Jonesboro. "Pacey, do you realize that we’re trapped in this hot, dusty, smelly, stifling room for God knows how long?"

"Joey," Pacey said from his seat on the wooden bench that ran all the way around the room. "Cut it out. You’re just gonna make yourself hotter and more miserable."

"Don’t tell me what to do," Joey snapped. She stalked over to one of the tiny, glassless observation windows and stuck her head out, trying to catch a breeze of any kind. She could feel sweat running down her neck; her irritation swelled to almost unbearable levels.

"Whatever," Pacey said, rolling his eyes.

The day had not started auspiciously. Pacey had been three hours late picking her up because he couldn’t get the deathtrap started. When he finally showed up, he’d been surly and irritated from spending the better part of the day playing amateur mechanic. They had reached Fort Jonesboro at three o’clock, and they’d recruited a hugely pregnant woman with a grumpy toddler in tow to take their picture in front of the ‘Fort Jonesboro’ sign. Joey had just barely resisted the temptation to make hideous faces and use her fingers to make bunny ears behind Pacey's head.

They’d silently toured the fort, picking up brochures and getting people to photograph them in front of various information placards. It was extremely hot for a mid-April day, and Joey was sweltering in her long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. It had been a lot cooler this morning when she’d gotten dressed. She hated being hot!

Finally, fed up with Pacey’s Sphinx act, Joey had glared at him and said, "You don’t have to take it out on me! It’s not my fault that your truck is a piece of junk!"

They were at the far end of the fort, trying to tour all of it before the 4:00 closing time. The only thing remaining was the lookout tower, which was a square wooden building with steps leading up to a room ringed with small windows. The tower overlooked a man-made lake.

Joey realized that she had lit the fuse on Pacey’s metaphorical firecracker when he whirled around, his face dark with anger. "Maybe not," he’d snapped, "but it is your fault that you’re a smartass with a big mouth!"

"Go to hell," Joey had said, trying to hide her hurt at his remark. "I don’t know why I thought I might actually enjoy going somewhere with you!" She’d pulled open the door of the lookout tower and started up the steps, stomping vigorously, trying to work out some of her aggravation.

"Dammit!" Pacey had yelled, loud enough for anyone who happened to be around to hear him. He’d stalked after Joey, slamming the wooden door behind him as hard as he could.

After a tense few moments of pretending to look out at the scenery, Joey and Pacey had gone back down the stairs and discovered that the door was jammed shut. Pacey had tugged it as hard as he could, but it would not open.

"You’re such a genius," Joey had sneered. "This door has been here for hundreds of years, and you have to come along and break it."

Pacey had clamped his mouth tightly shut; Joey could tell by the look on his face that there were some very ugly words on the tip of his tongue. They’d gone back upstairs and looked out the windows, searching vainly for someone to rescue them. It was almost closing time, and most of the fort’s visitors had left already.

"A security guard will see the truck and come looking for us eventually," Pacey said now. He looked too hot and listless to be angry anymore.

"I can’t stand it!" Joey complained, pulling her head back inside the window. "I’ve always heard that heat rises, but this is ridiculous!"

Pacey sighed and pulled off his t-shirt. He used it to wipe his face and placed it on the bench beside him. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall.

Joey held her hair off of her neck with one hand and stared at Pacey’s bare chest and stomach. When had his shoulders gotten so broad? When had he developed those tightly packed stomach muscles she’d heard referred to as a ‘six-pack’? When, exactly, had Pacey Witter, official black sheep of Capeside, gotten so hot?

Pacey opened his eyes as if he’d felt Joey’s lustful gaze. He looked quizzically at her. "What’s wrong?"

Joey let her hair fall. "What do you think is wrong?" she said irritably. "I’m dying of heatstroke!"

Pacey stretched his long legs out as if he were sitting on his couch at home. He smiled smugly. "You could take your shirt off," he teased, "like I did."

Joey stood and looked at him. She was struggling with a powerful urge to shock the hell out of him. Should I? she thought. No. But have I ever let that stop me before?

"Guess I could," she said casually.

Pacey smirked. "You won’t do it," he said. He folded his arms. "Joey Potter, the virgin queen? I don’t think so."

"You don’t know what I’ll do, Pacey Witter," Joey drawled. Looking him straight in the eye, she untucked her shirt and smoothly pulled it over her head, dropping it to the floor.

She immediately had Pacey’s attention. His eyes traveled over the expanse of bare skin that was revealed. Joey was glad she’d put on her black lace bra instead of her white one that had been washed so many times it was almost gray. Unfortunately, removing her shirt hadn’t made her any cooler. Pacey’s hot gaze had raised her body temperature by several degrees.

It didn’t matter. Both of them had been struck speechless. All Joey could hear was the pounding of her own heart like the distant beat of a drum. She drew in her breath, because it seemed that there wasn’t enough air in the room. Pacey stood up slowly from the bench, his eyes locked on hers.

Joey wasn’t sure if she moved closer to Pacey, or if he moved closer to her, but the next thing she knew, they were standing chest to chest, two inches from each other. Pacey’s fingers moved to her neck, gently wiping away the beads of sweat that had formed there. Joey wondered if he had thought much about the remark she’d made when she was leaving his house a couple of days ago.

She had closed his front door behind her that afternoon and winced at how bold she’d been. I wasn’t mad at you because of what you did, she’d told him. I was mad because you were right. I did like it, and I didn’t want you to stop. She might as well have just told him outright that she was hot for him. But Pacey hadn’t said a word to her about it. She’d been wondering if she’d made a complete fool of herself for nothing...until this moment.

Joey didn’t want to be too obvious about looking, but a quick glance told her that Pacey was...aroused. That in itself excited her. He continued to trace her neck and the side of her face with careful fingers, and Joey thought that she might literally die if he didn’t kiss her, right now. Pacey smiled, as if he could tell what she was thinking. He leaned closer, cupping her face with one hand, and placed his lips on hers.

Joey pressed herself to him, opening her mouth to accept his tongue and sliding her arms around him. Pacey kissed with a deliberate thoroughness that she wouldn’t have expected from him. A flush of heat suffused her entire body, and she clung to him even more tightly.

Joey’s knees were weak by the time he paused and looked into her eyes. His expression was guarded, and he seemed to be waiting for her to do or say something.

"Can we sit down?" Joey asked in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.

Pacey backed up to the bench, pulling her with him, and sat down. Joey settled into his lap. She had forgotten about being hot and about being trapped in the lookout tower. All she could think about were these strange feelings she was having. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire.

Pacey gently nibbled on her lower lip and then moved in for another kiss. Joey twined her fingers in his hair and kissed him back, enthusiastically sliding her tongue along his. A few minutes later, he broke away from her mouth and worked his way down to the tender skin of her neck. Joey tightened her arms around him, discovering that she very much liked what he was doing. She’d probably have a gigantic hickey to show for it, but she didn’t care.

One of Pacey’s hands stroked the exposed skin of her lower back, and the other one traveled up to cup her left breast through her bra. Joey was embarrassed by her labored breathing, but Pacey was considerably out of breath, too, when he unfastened his mouth from her neck. He watched her with heavy lidded eyes as he fondled first one breast and then the other.

"This thing is in my way," Pacey complained huskily, moving his hand to the small fastener between her breasts. He paused, waiting to see if Joey would protest. Joey was sure that he would stop immediately if she said no. She didn’t say no. She was mesmerized and fascinated and, to be perfectly blunt, horny.

Pacey fumbled Joey’s bra open and exposed her to his eyes and the late afternoon sunlight. He captured her mouth in another long kiss, pulling her against him, bare chest to bare chest.

So this is it, Joey thought dazedly. This is why everyone’s so obsessed with sex. Her entire body seemed filled with an electric current, and she’d never imagined anything quite like the intense throbbing between her legs. She had to get rid of it, but she wasn’t sure how.

Pacey began kissing his way down her neck again, and this time he didn’t stop. His lips traveled down past her collarbone, and even farther down... A combination of anticipation and alarm formed a knot in Joey’s stomach. Surely he’s not going to... He was. Joey couldn’t restrain a surprised gasp as Pacey’s lips closed around one taut nipple.

Joey closed her eyes, unable to bear the intensity of both feeling and watching what he was doing to her. Between the heat of this closed-in room and Pacey the love machine, Joey felt that she was in danger of just melting away.

"Hey!" There was a loud pounding on the door at the foot of the steps. Pacey jerked his head up, and they both looked in that direction. "Is someone in there?"

It had to be the security guard. Pacey and Joey stared into each other’s eyes, deeply startled at what had transpired between them. Then Pacey gently shoved Joey off of his lap and grabbed his shirt. "Better get dressed," he whispered to her. Tugging his shirt down over his head, he hurried down the steps to deal with the guard.

Joey fastened her bra and slumped down on the bench, her shirt in her hands, listening to Pacey and the guard discuss the best way to get the door open. She took a deep, trembling breath. She had no idea what to think or what to do next.

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