Author's Note: Okay, so this idea is a little . . . out there, but so is Serendipity. Stick with me if you can take it. Please drop me a note, and please don't post without my explict permission.
"He's in a meeting right now, Dr. Witter. Seems well, though. I'm sure he'll be out and about again by tomorrow."
"Okay," Pacey said. "I guess that I should wait."
"Let me tell him that you're here," he said. He knocked on the door gently. "Mr. Morez, Dr. Witter's here," he said.
"Send him in, Emilio," Will called from inside the room.
Pacey nodded to Emilio as he entered the room. "Pacey," Will called, "so good to see you."
Pacey stood examining the scene for a moment. A tall man in a fancy Italian suit stood at Will's bedside.
"I want you to meet my associate," Will continued. "This is Tony Johnson. Tony, this is Dr. Pacey Witter."
"It's nice to meet you," Pacey said, shaking the man's hand.
"I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Witter," he said. "You must be an excellent doctor."
"Thank you," Pacey said. "I am here to check on my patient."
Pacey stood over Will's wound, undressing it, and checking it out as Will and Tony continued to talk. He was used to being on the "inside" now, and well-respected within the organization. The fact was that he probably knew more than he should. But everyone loved the doctor who knew how to keep his mouth shut.
"How am I doing?" Will asked.
"It looks good," Pacey said. "Make sure the keep the wound site clean and dry. I want to check it again tomorrow."
Will nodded. "Why don't you stick around for lunch, Doc?" he asked.
"Actually, I'm heading to work. Maybe some other time."
"Of course," Will said, smiling. "Thanks, Pacey." He shook his hand.
"No problem. Easy activity for a while," Pacey said. "It was nice meeting you Mr. Johnson," he added, shaking the man's hand.
"You too," he said.
Pacey walked out of the room giving a small wave of his hand.
Pacey tiredly walked into the restaurant down the street from his house. Turning around after placing a take-out order, he saw Joey in a corner.
She was with a date, and he wasn't exactly sure how that made him feel. He wasn't exactly sure what they were to each other, what they are to each other. He wasn't exactly sure if he was supposed to be jealous or not.
She waved and smiled, and he waved back to her. He started walking toward her when she motioned him over. "Pacey," she said, "I'd like for you to meet Nicholas. Nicholas, this is my friend Pacey." Pacey held out his hand to the man--scratch that--the boy's hand.
Nicholas was definitely not their age. In fact, he looked like he was in his teens. Nicholas was a rather interesting choice for Joey, Pacey thought. He was skinny--bony in fact, had bleached blond hair, and a piercing underneath his bottom lip.
"So I thought you were working?" she said. She was trying to break the tension, knowing Pacey was sizing Nicholas up, and fully intent to have all kinds of things to say next time he saw her.
"I was. Just grabbing dinner before I go home," he said. "You didn't tell me you had a date."
She smiled. "It must've slipped my mind last night when we were . . . talking."
"That doesn't surprise me," he grinned. "I'll let you get back to your dinner."
"I'll see you later, Pacey," she said.
"Yeah," he said. "Nice to meet you, Nicholas," he added as an afterthought.
"You too," the boy answered, seeming uncomfortable about Pacey's presence.
Pacey was happy that his order was ready when he got back to the counter. Joey seeking refuge in a younger man was something he found entertaining for some odd reason. She was obviously going through some sort of phase.
Pacey sighed as he washed his dishes. "Lots of action on Saturday night, Witter," he mumbled to no one. When he heard a knock on the door, he checked his watch, and saw it was nearly midnight.
He smirked when he opened the door and saw Joey there. "Hey, Stella, got your groove back yet?" He didn't give her a chance to answer, walking back to the kitchen. She reluctantly followed him, unable to divert her eyes from his ass as he walked.
In the kitchen, she took off her blazer and kicked off her shoes. She was dressed in a pin-striped jumper with a shimmering silver shirt underneath. "I knew that you were jealous," she said, hopping up on the counter beside him, and crossing her legs.
"Jealous?" he asked. He grinned, pausing momentarily to examine her legs. "How old was that boy? I hoped you checked his driver's license to make sure he was of the age of consent."
"He's twenty," Joey said pointedly. "That's not that young. We were twenty not too long ago."
"I don't remember much of twenty," Pacey laughed. "I was drunk through most of it."
"Don't even pretend like I don't know your history, Pacey. You're a liar if you say that at twenty you wouldn't have dated a twenty-nine year old." she said.
"You're almost thirty," he reminded her. "And that's why you're doing this. Think some young thing will make you feel good, when all he does is make you realize just how tired you really are."
She laughed. "You are so off with that one."
Pacey grinned wickedly. "Didn't have any stamina?" he asked.
"Not a bit," she said. "It was over before I even thought it had started."
"That explains why you're here at midnight."
"Because you would've stuck around if that boy was more in tune to your needs," he said non-chalantly.
She found something about that statement rather suggestive, even though it really wasn't. She tried to squeeze her legs tighter together, hoping she wouldn't get too excited sitting in the middle of the kitchen.
She couldn't keep herself from touching him, though. She ran the back of her fingers over his cheek, and he looked back at her confused. She had promised herself that she wouldn't ask him again, and now she felt cheap, like a woman on a late night booty call.
"What?" he murmured, never letting his gaze leave hers.
"It's taking every bit of self-restraint I have to keep from kissing you," she said huskily.
"Why?" he asked, his voice sounding just as throaty.
"Because I know that you're in tune to what I need," she whispered.
"So what do you want to do about it?" he asked.
"I want to kiss you."
"Why don't you?"
"Don't want to cross the boundaries," she said. Her heart rate was increasing as her breathing grew more labored.
"What boundaries?" he asked, moving closer.
She could feel his breath on her cheek, and it made it particularly difficult for her to think. "The . . . uh, the boundaries between friendship and more."
"Why don't we set our own boundaries?" he asked, his tone noticeably teasing.
"Okay," she croaked.
"Can I kiss your neck?" he asked.
He gently laid his lips on her neck, kissing it softly. He moved past her jawline, and stopped shy of her earlobe. "Can I suck your earlobe?"
Her breath caught in her chest, with him saying the words being as exciting as the actual act. "Can I stroke your hair?"
"Yes," she breathed heavily.
As a hand raked through her hair, he pressed his cheek against hers. "Can I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?" he whispered.
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"Yes," she answered, not sure what else to say anymore. Having his lips on hers felt euphoric.
"Can I open my mouth to you?"
"Yes," she said, her answer coming out more like a moan. He began to trace her lip with his tongue. He gently sucked on her bottom lip, until he began to engage in a more fervent kiss.
"Can I touch you?" he asked.
"Here," she said, moving his hand to her breast.
His lips rested on hers, still giving tender kisses. He reached around her back. "Can I unzip this?" he asked.
He unzipped her jumper, and let his hand hover over her shoulder. "Can I move this strap?"
He pushed the straps down her arms, more able to access her breasts now. She was responding to his caresses. She was enjoying this sweet torture; the anticipation nearly making her go crazy, but still not wanting to stop.
"Can I touch your leg?" he asked.
She held her leg out, as he slowly moved his fingers along her calf, momentarily pausing at her knee, then moving up her thigh. She grasped his shoulders tightly as he repeated the movement over her other leg. Her fingers went to her shirt, fumbling with the buttons. He placed his hand over hers. "Can I do that?"
She nodded, as he took his time slowly undoing the buttons one-by-one.
"Can I kiss your stomach?"
"Yes," she gasped. He took is time planting kisses along her stomach, circling her belly button with his tongue.
He kissed her again passionately, still moving his fingers along her leg. "My turn," she said.
"Can I touch your chest?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied.
She moved her hands underneath his shirt, running her fingers along every square inch of his chest and stomach. She inched the shirt up. "Can I take this off?"
After discarding his shirt on the floor, she grabbed the hand that was resting on her thigh, and brought it up to her mouth. "Can I suck your finger?"
"Yes," he said, as she took the finger into her mouth. She moved her body closer to his, and began to kiss him hungrily. She moved her hand along his cheek, until her fingers lazily trailed down his chest to his pants. "Can I unbutton these?"
"Yes," he said. His voice had cracked--a sure sign of his growing arousal.
"Can I touch you?" she asked, her voice beginning to shake.
"Yes." She reached down to him, and a moan escaped his lips. He kissed her again.
"Can I take these off?" she asked.
She pushed his pants to the ground, and began to teasingly trace his erection with her finger. She kissed him hard, pulling him even closer and wrapping her legs around his waist.
"Can I feel you inside me?" she asked.
"I thought that you said that would only happen once?" he whispered.
"I thought that we were making up the rules as we go along?"
"Can I feel you inside me?" she repeated.
"Yes," he said breathlessly. He kissed her with a fervor she hadn't felt in a long time, so consumed that she didn't notice him reaching in his cabinet for a condom. She helped him put it on, inching even closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, hooking her feet together behind his back.
She only rested partly on the counter when he plunged into her. The slow anticipation made it all the more worthwhile. At that moment, she couldn't focus on anything but him.
She let out a scream as she climaxed, and that was enough to send him over the edge as well. He kissed her again deeply as he sat her back down on the counter. Discarding the condom in the trash, he looked back at her, and rested his forehead to hers. "What are we doing?" he whispered.
"Let's analyze this tomorrow," she said, reassuringly touching his face.
To Be Continued . . .
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