I'm going to wait. That's right--wait until I'm ready or better yet, until we're both ready...until everything is absolutely perfect. Completely and utterly perfect. There's no need to rush into anything. And there's no need to give into these nagging hormones that won't give me a moments peace, because I am definitely not going to lose my virginity in some rushed, meaningless moment that I would regret for the rest of my life. No, we've got the whole summer to be together...and sex can wait.
Wow, that sounded a whole lot more believable when I came up with it yesterday, but that was during a moment--which, I must say, have been somewhat few and far between--when Pacey and I weren't involved in some sort of heathen groping session. And now, with Pacey kissing me--feeling his body so close to mine, one of his hands tangled in my hair and the other softly rubbing the slightly sunburned skin of my stomach--my vow to put off sex, or anything else seriously physical with him starts to evaporate into the cool breeze.
He has that effect on me. The power to make everything else disappear from my mind and that's a pretty big accomplishment considering the hours I spend fretting about every little insignificant problem in my life. And I love it. There are certain times when there's nothing I want more than to just lose myself in something and not think about anything else except how happy he makes me. How happy I make him. How happy we make each other. Screw everything else, right?
He mumbles something incoherent as his mouth breaks away from mine, his lips slowly moving down to my neck. I try to bite back a moan as he nibbles on the soft skin, but it comes out anyway and I can feel him smile against my skin.
"I knew I'd get ya," he mumbles, continuing whatever amazing things he's doing to me.
"You're such a jackass," I say weakly, trying not to give him the satisfaction of sounding too pleased with what he's doing, but I'm sure that he can tell that I'm enjoying it. He knows me too well.
And just as I thought, he raises his eyes to mine and gives me a mischievous look. "Don't even pretend like you're not enjoying yourself," he says playfully, before placing a line of soft kisses along my collarbone.
I hold on to my sarcastic response and finally let myself drop the charade, forgetting that this is Pacey Witter--the boy that I've spent my whole life trading barbs with and poking fun at, and I realize that this is Pacey Witter--the man that I am totally, ass-backwards, head-over-heals in love with. The man that can make me come alive with just one look or even the slightest touch.
I feel his hand rest on my hip, absentmindedly playing with the string of my bikini bottom--a revealing black bikini that I would have never bought under normal circumstances, but the look that he got in his eyes when I took it off the rack was reason enough for me. Well, that and he was paying.
He comes back up to kiss me softly on the lips, his hand moving from my hip down to brush gently along my thigh. My breathing begins to grow faster, partly because of his touch and partly because of the anticipation of what he'll touch next. Any thoughts of waiting are far from my mind. The only things I can seem to comprehend are the sensations that he's invoking in me. Sensations that I've never felt before.
I moan his name softly against his lips as we kiss, lost in the feeling of him, the smell of him, the taste of him.
And somewhere in-between our loving kisses, I whisper the last thing that I would have ever imagined myself whispering, let alone wanting, but nothing else has ever sounded so right to me before.
"Make love to me, Pacey."
His hands freeze and he pulls away to look down at me, his arousal extremely apparent now that his weight has shifted.
"What?" he asks softly, brushing a loose strand of my hair from my face.
I look away, immediately feeling self-conscious and extremely embarrassed. "I'm pretty sure you heard me," I say quietly. "Don't make me say it again, Pace."
I'm sure that my face has turned a million different shades of red by now, but as I turn my head back to look at him and I see the touched look in his eyes, I don't feel so embarrassed anymore.
He leans in to place a quick kiss on my lips. "Jo," he begins slowly, running his hands tenderly through my hair. "There's nothing more that I want than to make love to you--to show just how much I love you and how much I want you..."
"But?" I finish for him, knowing that it was coming. I put my hands on his shoulders and push upwards, wriggling out from under him and sitting up. I grab the towel out from where we were lying on the deck and wrap it protectively around me, not feeling so comfortable in my string bikini anymore.
He sighs and reaches over to me, running his hand along my cheek. "But, I don't want to screw things up. I love you so much, Jo, and I want everything to be perfect. I don't want to let the fact that you look incredibly sexy right now cloud my reasoning," he says, his hand moving over the blush that has recently returned to my cheeks. It's funny, I can't remember the last time someone has made me blush like this. "You're everything to me and I don't want to let something stupid like having sex too soon ruin that. We have all the time in the world. There's no need to hurry."
He says exactly what I want to hear and I smile, knowing that he's probably right and extremely happy that one of us has the willpower or at least the sense to wait.
"But that doesn't mean that I'm strong enough to keep my hands off you for longer than a few minutes," he says with a smile, scooting over and wrapping his arms around me.
"I love you," I say, slowly taking in his words. Falling in love with him all over again.
"I love you, too," he says sweetly.
And for now, as much as I want him, I'm happy just to be here with his arms around me, listening to the waves beat up against True Love.