The snort of typicality from when she had entered his room and saw the rumpled bed and the posters of Harley Davidson's and scantily clad women on the walls had quickly come and gone. She hadn't been surprised at all, in fact it had inspired a few chuckles. She had dropped her bag on the chair by the door with a sigh. She wasn't sure where she should wait exactly. Or how long they would been gone. Instead she had stood awkwardly before deciding to take a look across the small room. See what occupied Jax's living space. As she was studying some pictures on a small dresser the door was opened.

"I almost didn't believe you were really in here. Guess you're waiting for Jax huh," Gemma said, hand still on the doorknob even though she had fully entered the room.

"He asked me to. Wants to talk," she shrugged. She knew where this conversation was headed. They would talk about today, what they had started. And hopefully, they would finish it. To be truthful to herself, she wasn't really sure what she wanted. What she needed. Or how to help achieve either of those. It was awkward. She hadn't expected for her first real encounter to be filled with so much heat. Nor in the back of the diner in Mary's office up against the wall with a biker. Throughout her dateless years at college she just figured she would be one of those women who never really knew the true beauty of the act. She just hadn't been interested enough to explore. Nothing past a handful of kisses. Well, that one frat party-but it didn't count because it had only been secondhand information relayed via Amber. She loved that girl to death but she had a knack for stretching the truth just a bit.

"It's good. I think you guys need it. Heard you, um, took down Aaron," Gemma said closing the door behind her, crossing her arms over her chest.

"He deserved it. I don't like to be grabbed," was the snappy answer. Gemma raised her eyebrow at the tone and Becca bit her cheek, "Sorry to be snappy. Everything, today was just…new and unexpected."

"Listen," she began, coming towards Becca in a much gentler way than she ever had before. It almost had the young woman raising her own eyebrow in suspicion, "you sure you know what you're getting yourself into?"

She sighed. This wasn't the first time she had been asked that today. She took a seat in the chair where she had dropped her purse, moving the bag to the dresser. She looked around, almost seemingly searching for an answer in Jax's room. That was almost answer enough.

"I'm not naïve Gemma. I know who you are. And I might not know details but I know what you do. It's new. It's different. It's…dangerous. I realize all that. But…," she trailed off, not sure how she was going to say what she felt the older woman needed to hear without revealing every truth. Some things she had to keep to herself, or in this case between her and Jax, "I trust Jax."

"Why? How'd he earn this trust," Gemma asked, coming to sit on the bed across from Becca. They were getting to it. Getting to the bottom of whatever had Jax running to Becca all big, bad, and protective.

Becca looked at Gemma's face. This woman was never going to be satisfied without the whole truth. And until she was satisfied she was going to be on her ass about it. If she trusted Jax, if she had trust in the club's actions regarding Tristan, then surely she could trust Gemma. But lately she had learned that trust could be misplaced and she knew from her few encounters that Gemma could definitely hurt her. But if everything was headed where she thought it was headed, it didn't mean she couldn't trust this woman. She just had to be careful about it. So in that moment she made a decision. Made a decision that she hoped wouldn't come back and bite her in the ass.

"The day Jax took me out to the streams, when I came to get my car looked at. He took me out there because I had a break down in the bathroom," she paused, stood up and paced the room. She could do this. She had to do this. Besides she was sick of Gemma fishing. She smirked at the silent admission, "I told him what happened to me in San Diego."

"And what happened?"

"I was attacked. By my professor. Known him for six fucking years. Next day I got in my car and drove non-stop back to Charming."

"Define attack," she said, sympathy feeling her tone. It was that fierce maternal side of her. She could be a manipulative bitch when the case warranted it. But she was a fierce mother, that was her purpose in life, to look out for her family as best she could. Biological-and those brought in by the club. And she knew her son. Whether he realized it or not, his involvement with Becca was involving her with the club. She was glad for this talk. They needed it.

"I was raped. Jax found me in the bathroom. It just sort of came out. I was in shock so he took me out to the streams. For some peace and quiet. To talk. Now, you and him are the only people who know."

Inferring it and hearing it aloud were two very different things. For someone who had survived something so traumatic, the girl in front of her did not look worse for wear. In fact, she suspected that the trauma had brought something out of her. Herself. It was funny, how devastating shit like that truly opened people's eyes to the world around them, encourage them to live. And she shouldn't have been surprised. Her son, like his father had a big heart. Maybe too big. He would be the first to take this woman under his wing after her telling him something like that. And keeping it a secret from her, for an entire month? Boy had learned. And if she knew her son, he was way past gone. It never took Jackson long. To fall for somebody. And when he did it, he fell hard. But the asshole, like his father, also had a knack of somehow screwing it up.

"You know what baby girl, you remind me of myself."

"How," Becca asked. Confused. As far as they could tell, they had absolutely nothing in common. Except an obvious blond VP.

"I'm a preacher's daughter too. With an overbearing bossy mother. I ran away from Charming when I was sixteen. By the time I came back. I came back with my husband John and a baby and brought the MC with me."

That struck the redhead dumb. Picturing Gemma Teller Morrow on a church pew Sunday morning was not something easily imagined. She couldn't help the slack jaw that had manifested as her imagination tried to brew up the mental picture. At the sight Gemma herself laughed. And she closed her mouth quickly, tucking some hair behind her ear and biting her lip.

"But you remind me of myself in other ways too. You remember that day at the grocery store. You stood up to me. Told me to fuck off. You're a strong bitch to pull something like that off so soon after-."

"Feeling powerless? Yeah, don't remind me. It's not an emotion I would like to revisit."

"Well," she said, seeing that fierce side of her that could bring 6'2'', 275 Aaron to his knees with a shot to his groin, the side of her that could intrigue her son, "you're certainly no damsel in distress."

"Never aspired to be one. Not going to start now. Hell, Jax gives me more credit for that than my own fucking parents."

"Speaking of your parents. You do know that you're not going home tonight? Not if my son has anything to say about it."

She blushed. Yeah, she knew that was the case. On her way back to his room she kept asking herself if she should just leave and go home. Retreat to familiar territory. But she didn't turn around and walk out of the clubhouse. Why? Because as soon as she had opened his door she had been hit with one life changing emotion. Anxious anticipation. That was what she was currently feeling. She knew what was coming. And even if she feared it, she was more excited about it. Sure, she didn't know what to do. Didn't know exactly what to expect. And Jax had way more experience than she did. But he wanted her. She knew that for a fact. And to be wanted. Well, it felt damn good.

"Are you ready? You know, for…"

"Yeah. But I also know that this is going to change things and things are going to get way more screwy once I go down this road," she turned back around and asked, "I don't think this is going to be a one time thing."

"Do you want it to be?"

"Would it be easier? For him? If it was?"

She could tell it was true concern behind that question. Hell, it'd be easier for all parties involved if he had left her crying on the bathroom floor. But he couldn't let that happen-not that big heart of his. And if it took him a month to actually get around to laying this girl she knew that Becca was right. There was no way in hell he was going to settle for a one night stand. She could tell Becca would be the rational one in this relationship. Jax had a tendency to make emotional decisions when women were involved. Oh God, relationship. A rocky one at times it would be, she thought. This girl was too smart and too strong to put up with some of her son's bullshit. Good, he needed someone to call him on it-and she wasn't going to be around forever.

But the worry that this would be hard on her son was what got her. If he was committed to keeping her secret safe and she was committed to looking out for his best interests, well it spoke volumes of the connection and chemistry they shared after so little time together already. If she had been a normal mother with an average Joe lifestyle she would say this was moving way too fast. But that was the MC life, everything went fast. Fast and hard. So she was honest.

"Nothing worth having is ever easy baby girl. But once you go down this road, everything is going to change. And change fast. And there isn't any take backs. But I think you have it in you, to handle it."

A comfortable silence passed between them and then it was interrupted by the sound of commotion in the clubhouse. Becca glanced at a clock, it was late, it had been about an hour and a half since they had left. She probably had about five hundred missed calls from her mother. But there was only one person she really wanted to talk to. At the sound of footsteps, her heart beat quickened, matching the rhythm. Jax swung opened the door. A frown marring his features. His eyes landed on Becca before they softened.

"Hey baby," his mother said, approaching him with a swift kiss to the cheek, "Becca and I were just having a little heart to heart."

"Should I be worried ma?"

"No baby-I like this one," she joked as she left and walked down the hall.

With his eyes still on Becca he closed the door and leaned against it, head hitting the door. Immediately she stood up, hands tugging at his cut, "What's wrong?" He had been expecting to discuss it with her. But then his mom's presence had caught him off guard. They weren't there. Not yet. But for her part, she deserved to know. Deserved to know that Clay had an ulterior motif all along he had failed to divulge to members of the Club. It would hurt her. But she had been beyond honest with him. If he was going to do tonight, what he planned to do, he needed a clean slate.

"I need you to know my intentions."

"Intentions," she asked on a high note, failing at containing her laughter. This was starting to sound like those bad romance novels Sarah read and got all weepy eyed over, "Are they honorable or dishonorable?"

"Completely dishonorable," he told her with a smirk, yanking her body up against his, "but you need to know that I plan on getting to know you. Every bit of you. Very intimately angel darlin'."

He dipped his head into her neck, nipping at the skin there. She released a breathy moan, tugging at his hair and arching her back, tilting her head to the side to give him better access. He smiled against her flesh. Today had been a learning experience for him. He hadn't expected her to be so responsive, so into it. He could tell she wasn't fairly experienced. But she was an adequate kisser. She'd get better with time. And lots and lots of practice. And her passionate responses to his attention only drove him higher, his desire to please her was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Okay, as much as I'm enjoying this. I have a feeling you're trying to distract me with sex."

That stopped him. Only served to prove his point. She was too damn smart for him to try to keep things from her. But she wasn't his Old Lady-he wasn't sure what she was. He didn't have the compulsion to put a label on it. He was honest when he said he wanted to get to know her. So that didn't necessarily require full disclosure. But he would tell her this bit.

"I wanted to tell you thanks for your help with the Oswald situation. But you should know that we ended up blackmailing Elliot for it."

She stiffened. She bit her lip. And her eyebrows puckered together. She was far from happy. And suddenly he was wishing he had brought up this intentions conversation after sex. The grip on his cut tightened and blood rushed to her bottom lip.

"Did you decide this before you asked me? Before I talked to Tristan?"

"It was an executive decision Becca that I found out was made after I got there," he told her and watched her eyes flutter down to the VP patch on his right. He could see her brain working behind those beautiful eyes of hers. The grip on his cut relaxed and he released a breath of air he didn't even realize he had been holding.

"Okay. But I don't like being used. And I won't mention it to Clay. Like ever. I have a feeling closed door policy works the same way it does outside the MC."

"Closed door policy," came a question paired with a smirk.

"You know what I'm talking about," she accused as he walked her backwards. And she had been in this room long enough to realize the bed was behind her. "As in whatever is said behind closed doors stays behind closed doors."

"Damn I knew there was a reason I liked you besides your looks," he told her when she fell back on the bed, him coming over her.

She smiled up at him, hands shaking as they snaked around his neck, bringing his mouth down on top of hers. She had been kissed before but she hadn't enjoyed as much as she did Jax. She didn't want to sound cliché about it all. Like one of those girls who were always high about a man, complete with butterflies, widened eyes, and quickened pulses. But that's exactly how se felt when he looked at her, touched her, kissed her. Complete with that hot burning sensation at the pit of her stomach that meant she was aroused. She used her fingers to push his cut off his shoulders and he laughed against her mouth, sitting up momentarily to pull his shirt off.

He watched as her eyes got bigger, even a bit teary eyed. At the sight, he was going to pull back and tell her that they didn't have to do this but she surprised yet again by reaching up with her hands to touch him, tracing the skin over his abs and then sliding up to his chest, her fingertips flicking over his nipples. It was an innocent exploration he knew but it only served to drive his arousal higher. Her hands smoothed over his shoulders and down his arms, linking their fingers together. She bit her lip and sat up herself, pulling her own top off, leaving her in a red lace bra that popped against her creamy flesh. He felt himself gasp at the sight. Creamy swells popping against the lace, begging for his attention. He brought his own hands up to touch her but she slapped them away. Still shaking, she unhooked the front clasp closure. She tossed it over by his cut somewhere on the floor.

"Damn Becca…you're beautiful," he whispered, cupping her cheek and delivering a sweet, gentle kiss.

"You know…that I've never done this before," she told him, looking away and wiping a lone tear from her eye. Schooling his emotions, tampering down his rage, he turned her back around to face him. He nodded. And touched his forehead against hers.

"We don't have to do this."

"No. I want you to."

He wasn't a man that needed to be told twice. With a kiss, that like earlier today soon became heated, he leant her back down on the bed. Releasing her lips he traced open mouth kisses down her neck to her chest, finally latching onto one nipple. Her back arched, bringing her breast closer to his mouth, and she gasped. The sensation was new. She had always known her breasts to be sensitive but not this sensitive. When he moved to the other, the air prickled against the sharp wet tip of her nipple and she found her hand going to his head, tugging on the long golden locks there. The feeling of the warmth of his mouth had her all achy and damp between her legs. She had heard it described like that before. Needy, achy. And she had suspected that maybe it was a tad bit exaggerated, that nothing could spark such a necessity. But she knew now it was true because if he stopped, she would feel an overwhelming sense of loss.

He left her breast and placed slow, hot, wet kisses down her body. Finally coming to the short cut offs she was wearing. He smiled at the sight of them. He had to say, he loved these shorts. And he was quick to voice the opinion. She leant up on her elbows and smiled down at him, telling him she liked them too. He chuckled, called her a smart ass. But instead of the playful shove he had grown accustomed to and was thus expected she unbuttoned the shorts. But she stopped. When he looked up at her, he saw she was blushing. She groaned and dropped her head back down on the bed with an almost inaudible Fuck.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that I, uh, I need to do laundry."

He frowned at her statement. Laundry? He saw her singular quirked eyebrow and his gaze flickered between her face and the undone button on her shorts twice before he erupted into laughter. She blushed harder but a smile twitched at her mouth and she threw her arm over her face in embarrassment. She launched into an explanation, told him she had planned to do it today but just got distracted with everything. He moved back up her body, placing a kiss on both corners of her mouth before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Then traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue, asking for entrance. She complied, opening her mouth. There was a delighted moan signaling the return of her arousal, even if it had never really left. Her nails dug into the skin on his bicep and when he came up for air he rubbed his nose against hers.

"Should I continue?"

"Now who's the smart ass," she asked, reaching between them to shimmy out of her shorts. He tossed them somewhere by his cut, "You've got on way too many clothes for this to work."

He wasn't as shy about shucking his jeans. He watched again as her eyes widened, trailing down his body. Her hand reached out but then retracted. He shook his head, encouraged her to touch him. It was shy, the flick of her hand against the tip of his erection, but seductive all at the same time. A teasing taste of what she would be like once she became comfortable with his body. And he intended for her to get very comfortable. In a quick move he rolled the both of them over so that she was on top. She braced her body against his, hands resting on his chest. Solid grip on her hips, he guided her body over his, entering her slowly.

He chose this position for one reason. That day out by the streams, when she had told him what happened. He remembered her recounting about how she had been pinned down to the floor. How powerless she had felt. He wanted her first willing sexual experience to be the total opposite. He wanted her to feel as if she was in control. He was a dominant guy when it came to sex. He knew it, hell almost everyone knew it. But there would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, this was all about her.

She knew what he was doing. And she was grateful for it, grateful that he cared enough about it to consider it. She felt her eyes close, shocked at the pleasure, at the wave of all encompassment that rushed across her body from the inside and out. It was odd, being filled with another person. She moved experimentally and she felt him shudder underneath her. Her eyes popped open and looked down into his blue ones. She felt sentimental all of a sudden. She wasn't sure why, wasn't sure if she liked it, wasn't sure if it was a good thing. But she felt it nonetheless.

"I don't know what I'm doing," she whispered.

"Yeah you do, your body knows what it wants angel darlin'. Just trust it."

And so she did. It took her a minute to find a good rhythm, a steady beat made up of his thrusts and her grinding against his pelvis. But once she found it. It felt…almost incandescent. By the time her head leaned back and her mouth opened with his name on her lips, there was fine sheet of sweat across her body and his too. They came almost violently, surprised by her own reactions to it all. She rolled off him and he brought his arm around her, pulled her close to him. Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek but she forced her eyes opened when she felt him harden again against her back. She moved to turn around to face him but with his head buried in her hair, next to her ear, he whispered for her not to worry about it. That she was tired and she should

sleep.

A/N: So Becca tells Gemma the truth, her & Jax finally get it on. You know what to do- R & R!