Title of the chapter taken from Halsey's song Young God (highly recommend listening to it while reading, it got me in the mood)

I apologise for any mistakes and typos.

Happy reading :D

Do You Feel Like a Young God?

Three days. That's how long it took Tara to pretend the Mystery Man didn't exist, that she didn't run into him, that she didn't try and hide from him. Three days of suppressed sexual desire and dreaming of his muscular torso and those damn lips with a scruff she wished to feel on her other body parts. Three days of effectively avoiding thinking about him, burying herself in her work and paperwork, before she realised she was just fooling herself and that there was no way she could go on like this.

Besides, she was still haunted by the tragic loss of one of her patients not so long ago. This could be her way of unwinding, letting off some steam and not thinking of it for once.

That's why she was here again; back in that club she met him just a few weeks ago, hoping she would run into him again. Maybe, she thought, if she saw him again she could just jump his bones and get it all out of her system, and it would all be like it had been before him. Definitely.

She wore a simple red dress that reached her mid-thigh. It was, not surprisingly, the shortest dress she owned though not as uncomfortable as she thought it would be. That night she didn't mind much about her hair or anything else for that matter. She was on a mission and her sole focus was to find that man. As she looked around the club, yet again she took notice of the people that came there; they all looked the same to her.

What was she doing there? What did she want? Was she that desperate for a quickie that she was willing to offer herself up to a random stranger?

But he's not a stranger, a voice in her head whispered.

A small part of her really didn't see the Mystery Man as a stranger. Maybe it was their staring session or the way he seemed eager to have her that night or maybe it was the kiss he gave her that had her all flustered every time just by thinking about it. There was something in his eyes that night; a recognition of sort, a connection she felt deep in her core that still had her confused, yet one that lead her here tonight.

She lacked people in her life these days. She lacked human contact, anything that would make her feel alive and not a machine working twelve-hour shifts and having no social life. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt lonely. She yearned to talk to somebody about something other than test results, CT scans, MRIs, fractures, diseases, and this kind of information that flooded her brain daily, sometimes preventing her from having a decent night of sleep.

She worried about her little patients, about their parents, about everything and anything; she worried about their charts and even slight irregularities bound to appear in some occasions. Her mind worked overtime, all day and all night, exhausting her physically.

And yet, the noise, the worry, the fights she had with her colleagues, the sound of her pager and her cell phone... It drove her crazy and, by some insane paradox, also made her numb to it all.

You need this. Just one time and it'll be ok. You'll be ok, she reassured herself, despite her wobbly legs and whizzing thoughts making her dizzy.

Before she could change her mind, she made her way to the bar, pushing people out of her way, and sat on the same spot she had sat the last time and ordered the same drink. Her hands were trembling with trepidation, her throat dry and her body falling limply into the chair. Her nerves were wrecked, something within her preventing her from relaxing, from clearing her mind of her toxic thoughts and anxiety.

What if he wasn't there? What if she just came in vain? What the hell was she thinking?

Gulping down her drink, she breathed out slowly, willing herself to calm down. The small glass of liquid courage seemed to have reined her in a little, but there was still a sense of... she couldn't explain it. Her feelings were all jumbled, a headache creeping in little by little as the music got louder and the air sultrier.

She ordered another drink, fighting to ignore the ear-splitting base, people bumping into her, and orders being shouted at the barkeep. Instead, Tara let her gaze wonder about the dancing crowd, hoping to find her Mystery Man and get him out of her system and out of her mind.

A poignant resignation was just settling in her stomach when the skin of her neck prickled and she froze for just a second. Her whole body then shuddered as she hurriedly got up and turned around, her eyes meeting his over the dancefloor.

The man stood leaned against one of the walls, one hand in his dress pants pockets, the other holding his drink. The suit, whose colour was practically indiscernible under iridescent lights of the club, fit him like second skin. The upper button of his shirt was open and Tara took a moment to admire the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he sipped from his glass, his eyes plastered on her. His eyes, even from this distance, held something captivating in them; a want shone through them, making her weak all over again.

Holding onto her chair as fiercely as she could, Tara summoned her wits, her eyes lost in him, on him. As if he had pinned her down with his stare, it was unthinkable for her to move. She couldn't; she didn't want to. Her feet were stuck to the ground, her breathing almost nonexistent, her gaze locked on him.

For a few moments, the voices inside her mind and the music of the club died down, leaving her in complete silence, liberated of the her inner, everyday turmoil.

What was it with him that practically wiped her mind completely, rendering her speechless, motionless? He never took his eyes off her, taking her back to that night weeks ago when all her thoughts were of losing herself to him, even for a few minutes. Until she sobered up and backed down, albeit regrettingly.

Regarding her with great care and concentration, his eyes roamed up and down her body, and when his gaze finally met hers again, his pupils were well blown to the point she only saw black. As he strode towards her in a manner most peculiar, Tara noted the aura that clung onto him present again, making him blend into the crowd seamlessly and stand out like a sore thumb at the same time.

He tilted his head to the side, a puzzled look on his face as he disposed of his glass on the bar. His eyes trained on her, he spoke at once in a raspy voice, making her insides ignite: - "Don't mind me saying, but I never thought I'd see you here again."

And there it was: the same smile he left her with the last time she saw him - cocky, mischievous, with a hint of audacity that somehow suited him just right. It was one of the reasons she was back here. His eyes seemed to search her face for an answer, but Tara was too lost in her own head and her bewilderment with him to utter a word.

It was only when he gently touched her fingers clutching the chair that she broke from her trance.

"I thought so too. I guess we were both wrong." – she answered in a gasp.

It was all she said as she couldn't say anything else. That voice in her head, the one against all of this, was screaming at her, throwing threats and accusations at her, waking her sense of insecurity again, choking her with its words and stabbing her wounded heart with each insult.

Pushing it down, Tara gripped the chair tighter, all the while looking at him. She could do this. Why couldn't she? She desperately wanted, needed someone to give her just a moment of utter content; someone to shush the voices in her head, stomp that guilt, sorrow, the burden she was carrying with her for so long.

Just one peaceful moment of ... connection.

A flash of unrecognizable feeling appeared in his eyes for a second and just as fast disappeared. It was replaced by, as Tara discerned, something she felt that night weeks ago. Understanding.

He saw it in her eyes just as she saw it in his. There was no pity or contempt, only deep understanding of the chaos vibrating off her body, mirroring the one thundering round her mind.

With a gentle smile, he took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing manner. Everything in Tara lit up, her own hand gripping his with such a force she thought show would break it. She was just holding onto him...

The man pulled her flash against him as he manoeuvred them through the inebriated crowd, leading them to... Tara had no idea where. Frankly, she didn't care. In that moment, it didn't matter as long as he would let her use him, and by the look in his eyes from moments ago, he was definitely in for it. To hinder her accusatory thoughts, Tara buried her face in his chest, seeking something, anything to concentrate on.

His scent (woodsy with a hint of alcohol he was drinking).

His arm wrapped protectively around her shoulder.

The silk of his jacket that grazed her bare skin intermittently drawing soft moans out of her.

The steady beating of his heart mixed with music around them, offering her an odd kind of comfort, so much so she fought the need to close her eyes and nuzzle his chest just to feel him even closer.

Their walk wasn't anywhere far; the Mystery Man led them behind one of the panels that created a makeshift barrier between the crazed mass and the quieter part of the club. There was nothing decorative there, as though all the money invested went to embellishing the main areas, leaving this little corner bare of any colour. But, the flashing lights illuminated this little place too, casting sporadic bursts of colour on the walls that let the fleeing party looking for a quickie know they were still part of the mass outside, though they were alone.

He pushed her against the panel, lifting her legs up and she wrapped them around him immediately, her panties already soaked. Her breath was ragged, eyes locked with his as his hands started roaming up her body, hitching her dress higher and higher, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind them.

Since the first time she saw him that night, he emitted confidence, but now, as she took a few moments to looked at him up close... His eyes reflected the kind of hurt she was well acquainted herself. So, he too wanted to drown his feelings and forget something...

Folding her arms around his neck, Tara pulled him by his hair, smacking their lips in an urgent kiss. She felt his scruff rubbing against her face, his calloused hands massaging her thighs, searching for their target.

His hot breath was on her neck, his lips nibbling and biting when his fingers hooked under her panties, dragging them halfway down in one swift motion. Gasping as the cold air hit her naked sex, she squeeze her eyes shut, craning her neck to give his violent mouth a better access as his tongue licked her sweaty, heated skin. He cupped her sex, his lips pressed to her ear, inhaling her scent.

-"What's your name?"

The sound of his voice, broken, puffed, sent another shiver through her body, another wave of excitement washing over her. Her heart was already beating fast against her chest, almost in accord with the beat coming from the speakers.

This is a one-time thing, Tara reminded herself. No strings attached. He won't even remember you after this. You won't remember him.

-"T- Tara." – she muttered, her mind going blank already as he drew his finger up and down her slit, spreading her wetness all over. His long fingers caressed her sensitive flesh, brushing her clit just slightly, but it was enough for her to arch her back, whining and begging for more contact.

She felt him smile against her cheek, kissing her softly, for a moment breaking the harshness with which they started all this. A fire ball grew in her stomach, spreading the heat throughout her body, growing hotter by the second as she pulled him closer, the buttons on his chest scraping against her breast as he moved, her nipples hardening.

"I'm Jax." – it was barely audible. - "You know, I've been thinking about you a lot these past few weeks, Tara." – he whispered, his voice deep with lust, sending a shiver straight to her core.

A loud whine left her lips when he inserted his finger and her walls clenched around it immediately. He started pumping, brushing over her clit, once, twice, before she was moaning in his ear, her fists gripping his shoulders so tight her knuckles had gone white. He just continued; his finger steadily pumping in and out of her, his scruff rubbing against her lips as he kissed her wildly, his other hand on her waist holding her tightly.

Then came the second and the third finger and Tara was a goner, screaming out, losing herself to him, to music around them, to the flashing lights of the club... Her chest was so tight she thought she was going to suffocate as she was coming down for her high.

Through her haze, she heard his soft chuckle, then the familiar sounds of a zipper and foil.

As she opened her eyes, still panting, Jax's eyes flashed with mischief and she realised it was the first time they really looked at each other since he approached her. Daring to sneak a peek down, she gulped watching him roll on a condom. Her eyes flew to his again as a smirk spread on his face. Biting her lip, she tried to focus, to chase away the fog in her mind.

Jax positioned himself against her entrance, grinning when she whimpered at the contact with his hardness. Tara wound her arms around his shoulders, her nails raking his scalp making him hiss.

"Tara."

They way he said her name... No! Don't think, Tara, don't think!

He gripped her hips and thrust into her at once, burying himself to the hilt. His name flew off her lips in a loud moan, a torrent running through her, her toes curling. Jax pulled back then thrust again, eliciting another moan from her.

Their eyes were on each other, looking, searching for something, their bodies chasing inevitable orgasms.

Jax would thrust and Tara would push her hips, welcoming him each time; her walls clenched around him drawing him deeper, deeper... They did this dance until the only sound either of them heard was the sound of their skin slapping against each other, their breaths quickening, eyes on each other still, as if assessing who would last longer.

Tara savoured this moment; him inside her, throbbing, his hands clutching her hips, probably leaving some bruises though at the moment she couldn't care less; sweat glistened on his brow and without a second thought, her fingers wiped it off, stopping on his cheek, cupping it lightly.

The surprise in his eyes was more than evident; he stuttered a bit in his movements before he recollected, this time thrusting, harder, faster, making her yelp in surprise.

The thrill of being there, with him, amongst all those people and a possibility of being seen, of being caught, set her on fire and she rushed to match her movements to his, panting uncontrollably, chasing her release. Then Jax pressed his thumb against her clit and she was undone.

When her orgasm came, the ferocity of it washed over her in violent waves and spasms. She cried out his name not caring if anyone could hear her, closing her eyes, mumbling incoherently till she felt him still inside her, pulsating, then making a final thrust. Jax growled her name in her neck, spilling himself inside her.

They were just standing there in each other's embrace for what felt like hours, heartbeats matching, their breathing finally in control. Jax was drawing little circles on her back, lulling her into relaxation; her arms were still wrapped around him, her cheek pressed against his, eyes closed, lashes fluttering.

Slowly, Tara started coming off her high when her senses were assaulted by the scene.

His woodsy scent was now mixed with hers, the smell of sex clinging onto them. Their skin was glistening, bodies still joined, although he was getting softer, and as Jax turned his face to her, his lips brushed against hers.

Panic instantly struck her, her heart beating like crazy and her body shaking. She felt her throat constricting, making it hard to breathe.

It was too real. Too real. She had to get out of there. Now.

Shoving him off her, Tara unhooked her legs around him and pulled up her panties. For a second it seemed like Jax wanted to say something but she couldn't stay and listen to him.

She had to get out.

And so, before he could utter a word, Tara pushed past him and rushed through the club, shoving people out of her way.

Out.

Out

Out.

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