Disclaimer: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. I do, however, own Marlowe and any other OCs that appear in the 2 Sons Universe.
Please note this story is now rated "M".
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Tears were threatening to fall again, but Tara fought them back. Throughout the years, she had become quite adept at keeping her emotions at bay. As a surgeon who specialized working on the most critical of pediatric cases, stoicism was most definitely a job requirement. Besides, crying was a sign of weakness, or at least that was what her father had been fond of telling her whenever he went on one of his drunken tirades.
Valiantly swallowing the lump in her throat, Tara slammed her foot on the gas pedal, accelerating her Nissan to fifteen miles over the speed limit posted for residential areas. The faster she drove, the faster she'd get to the lot.
And to Jax.
"It's going to be okay," Tara counseled herself as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the rear view mirror. "There's no need to panic. Jax loves me. Always has, always will. I can fix this."
Yesterday had been a typically busy day for the neonatal surgeon. With rounds to make and several consultations with anxious parents before and after two scheduled back-to-back surgeries, Tara barely had time to grab a bite to eat, let alone check her phone for messages. Complicating matters, as she was wrapping up for the day, Dr. Namid had called on her to assist on an emergency surgery to repair the heart of a newborn who, like Abel, had been born with congenital heart disease.
If she had only made the time to return calls, Tara would have finally spoken to the more than slightly hysterical Margaret Murphy, giving herself at least a twelve-hour head start to redirect the huge pile of shit that was about to land on her. Hindsight was most definitely 20/20, Tara realized bitterly, and at this point, of no fucking use to her whatsoever, except in terms of damage control.
Tara angrily pounded her fist against the steering wheel. If only Margaret had not been such a clingy, needy harpy all the damn time, instead of blowing her off she might have taken a break to talk to her. Tara had figured that Margaret was probably using some minor administrative bullshit regarding the paperwork for her transfer to Oregon as an excuse to hover around her. Whatever Margaret's reason for calling, Tara had been sure she could wait to deal with it the next day.
How fucking wrong was I!
It was going on seven o'clock the night before when Tara finally left the hospital. Stopping by her office just long enough to retrieve her briefcase and handbag, she had been in a hurry to get home to relieve Elyda. It wasn't until she pulled into the driveway of the empty house that she discovered that there had been no reason to rush home after all.
Tossing her bags down on the leather sofa and wondering where her family was, Tara had reluctantly picked up the phone to call Gemma. She could hear Abel's childish babbling in the background as the matriarch answered the call.
Gemma had been brief and noncommittal, but now, looking back on the slightly stilted conversation, Tara realized that signs that something was wrong had all been there. Instead, she had shrugged off the preemptory tone when Gemma advised her that Jax had asked her to take Abel for the night. Apparently, according to Gemma, he wanted to spend some alone time with his old lady. As much as she loved Abel, Tara had been too grateful for the reprieve to question the slight edge in Gemma's voice.
Instead, she perfunctorily thanked the old lady before hanging up. Going into the kitchen, Tara retrieved the half-empty bottle of chardonnay from the fridge and poured herself a large glass before heading off to take a long, relaxing shower. Tara had occupied her mind while cleaning up dreaming of reasons that could have prompted Jax to want alone time. After all, for the last few weeks, their relationship had been running on fumes and fading fast.
Realizing that her cold shoulder was accomplishing nothing, Tara had finally seen a light at the end of the tunnel after learning of the attack on the Clubhouse as SAMCRO found itself caught in the middle of a war between two rival Cartels. Taking advantage of that situation, Tara had pressed Jax to get his family out of Charming during this dangerous and turbulent time.
Manipulating Jax to see it from her perspective had been easy. Unlike most women who used sex to control their men, all Tara had to do was shed some very well-timed tears to get Jax to consider letting her relocate to Oregon with Abel. Although he had yet to agree, Tara knew any hope of getting Jax to leave Charming and SAMCRO depended on having Abel with her in Oregon. After all he had gone through to get his son back, she knew Jax would never countenance being separated from Abel for a long period of time. As much as she cared for Jax's son, Tara wasn't above using him as a bargaining chip.
As she massaged shampoo into her hair, Tara grew increasingly confident that Jax wanted to discuss the details of her move. Going a step further in her wish-fulfillment fantasy, she was hopeful that maybe Jax had finally seen the futility of trying to save the Club and wanted to discuss their exit strategy.
Maybe Jax has finally come to terms with the fact that the only thing he can change is his life, Tara had reasoned with herself. That damned Club just isn't worth saving anymore.
Drying herself off, Tara searched through her dresser drawer for some forgotten piece of lingerie in an effort to make herself feel sexy. Gemma's warning was still ringing in her ears and at this point in the game she was willing to concede that the old lady might have a point. This was the perfect opportunity to give in and satisfy Jax sexually before he started sniffing around elsewhere. Tara knew her old man well and knew that he was probably climbing the walls of the Clubhouse by now. Giving him what he wanted—what all men wanted—would go a long way in proving that she was still committed to making things work with them. If she played her cards right and submitted to his every desire, she might be able to convince Jax that he was better off leaving the Club behind and coming with her to Oregon. They could start fresh without SAMCRO and the violence that came with it.
And without Gemma.
But her old man never showed. Tara had lain in their bed wide awake for hours before sleep had finally claimed her. The next morning, turning over to see that Jax's side of the bed had not been slept in had her disgruntled. Lately, it was not unusual for Jax to spend the night at the Clubhouse, but the fact that he had not come home the night before—of all nights—had her stomach tied up in knots, an unreasonable fear that hope for a reconciliation was fading fast plaguing her.
That fear was only compounded further when the door bell rang. Opening the front door, Tara found herself looking at two Prospects standing on her doorstep toting several boxes and moving supplies. The one called Ratboy advised her that he and V-Lin had been sent by Jax to help her pack for Oregon. With her gut telling her something wasn't right, she was in the process of sending them away until she spoke to Jax when the house phone rang.
As she went to answer it, the Prospects ignored Tara's edict. Making their way into the house, they headed straight for the master bedroom before she could stop them. Picking up the phone, her heart nearly turned into a block of ice as she heard Margaret's anxious voice. As the woman started to relate in explicit detail her run-in with Gemma Teller-Morrow, Tara blindly grasped for one of the kitchen chairs, her body collapsing into it like a sack of wet laundry, her sudden fear threatening to morph into sheer panic.
Jax knows about the abortion!
It had taken Tara a while to calm Margaret down. The older woman was convinced that the Club was going to kill her, claiming that the bruises Gemma had left on her neck were all she needed to confirm her worst fears.
"I only reached out to you so that you wouldn't be blindsided," Margaret had said tearfully. "If I tell anyone else what happened, that biker whore threatened me with her Club. I'm sorry that I told her about the abortion, but I had no idea that she didn't know."
Maybe you would have, Tara thought bitterly, if you had a lick of sense in that half-fried brain of yours.
Tara barely paid attention to the rest of Margaret's rambled apologies as the Prospects made their way through her house, collecting whatever they figured belonged to her and packing it away. Her mind was racing as she tried to come up with a way to smooth over the monumental clusterfuck Margaret had set in motion. If Gemma knew about the abortion, then it was almost a certainty that Jax knew about it too. She was sure that Gemma had been unable to contain herself, finally having something tangible to hold over her head. It pissed Tara off to no end knowing that nothing she had ever done for her or SAMCRO carried any weight with the Queen. Gemma had always been and would forever be Team Jax.
After telling Margaret she was taking a personal day and hanging up the phone, Tara kicked the Prospects out of the house and headed to her bedroom to dress.
I can fix this, Tara thought to herself, as she headed for her car. I know Jax Teller. He may be angry, but I know this man. I can make him understand about the abortion. He loves me and I'm not going to lose him. Not to Gemma. Not to anyone.
Now as she pulled into the T-M lot, Tara readied herself for what she knew would be an epic battle for Jackson Teller's heart, body and soul.
Winner takes all, and I'm not losing.
Ignoring the stack of paperwork on her desk, Gemma sat back in her chair and stretched her long legs out to rest her feet clad in five-inch designer sandals on top of her desk. Cigarette in hand, the old lady had a grim smile on her face as she contemplated the latest family drama to unfold.
Over the more than forty years of the Club's existence, Gemma had seen a lot of shit happen in the MC, both club and family-related, but had never experienced anything like what had gone down in the Chapel the day before. Having to tell her son that his old lady had betrayed him in probably the cruelest and most coldhearted way possible had nearly shattered Gemma to pieces. Her heart had physically ached for her Jackson and she had feared not only for her son's freedom but for his sanity as well as he tore out of the lot, sure that he was going after Tara.
Not that Gemma had any love left for the bitch.
As a matter of fact, it was now painfully obvious how right she had been about Tara Knowles all along. Gemma had picked up on Tara's damsel-in-distress complex the moment the teenager had set foot on the lot. Instead of making her stronger, growing up without a mother and alone in a house with a violent drunk for a father had taught Tara to manipulate with self-pity. Jax had either been too soft-hearted or too horny a teenager to know when he was being played. That was true when he was sixteen and, unfortunately for Gemma's never-to-be-born grandchild, it was true now.
Tara had never been cut out for the outlaw life and she certainly wasn't proper old lady material. But as much as she deserved to be tied to the back of Jax's bike and dragged until she was a bruised, bloody and broken heap, it was the last thing her son needed to do. As fierce an outlaw as Gemma knew him to be, it would destroy Jax if he ever laid a hand on Tara in anger, no matter how much she deserved a healthy dose of outlaw justice. It would only end up damaging him further, and learning of his old lady's manipulative betrayal had caused enough damage already.
After taking off the way he had, Gemma had not expected to hear directly from Jax again until he had worked his shit out. Having sent Happy to watch his back, Gemma had resolved to be all right with that, so she had been more than a little surprised (and relieved) when Jax had called, asking her to meet him at his place in order to pick up Abel. Aside from the message she was to pass along to Tara, Jax had said little else.
After following her back to her house and making sure that his son was settled in, Jax had taken off. Gemma knew he would probably spend some time on the road getting his shit together. But she also knew her son well enough to know that he would waste no time in taking other steps that would take the pain away. Namely, she had come across reliable Intel that indicated that her son had not spent the night in his dorm and that he had not spent it alone.
Gemma smirked as she recalled grilling the ginormous Prospect who, with the horn-rimmed glasses he wore on occasion, managed to see and hear all manner of interesting shit, but getting him to speak it was like pulling teeth from a grizzly bear. Granted, Filthy Phil was getting a little less green and a lot more savvier when it came to having his brothers' backs, but until he earned his top rocker there wasn't much that happened in the Clubhouse that a Prospect would be privy to that Gemma wouldn't know about as well.
Arriving at the lot early in the morning, Gemma had seen Jax's bike parked in its usual spot and headed straight for the Clubhouse. Finding the Prospect in his usual spot behind the bar, she had wasted no time in pressing him hard as to where she could find her son. Phil had no choice but to awkwardly mumble that the SAMCRO President was with the Club medic in her dorm, and that he had been there all night.
Hot Damn! You can't keep a good man's dick down, Gemma thought with glee.
The best way to get over old pussy was new pussy, and who better than the pussy that had so recently shut him down. As for the new pussy, Gemma wasn't worried about Marlowe. There weren't many women strong enough to resist her son, especially when he flashed that panty-dropping smile of his, and the fact that Marlowe had done just that the first time around showed that she was a strong-willed bitch. Since she had obviously had a change of heart towards the SAMCRO President and knowing a bit of the young woman's history, Gemma figured Marlowe could take care of herself when it came to grappling with the likes of Jax Teller. She had certainly proved that she could handle her shit in her service to the Club, so it was safe to assume that she wouldn't need sheltering or protection from a randy outlaw biker.
Although she might need some time to recuperate after letting Jax hit her shit, Gemma smirked to herself.
Learning about this hook up did a lot to ease Gemma's mind concerning her son's mental state. Even though seeking out pussy as a way to comfort himself was Jax's standard operating procedure, there was a Clubhouse full of croweaters eager to take care of that particular piece of business. This time, however, Jax had sought solace from a woman he already had a connection to. There was no doubt in Gemma's mind that Jax had not only taken a liking to Marlowe Guthrie, but he admired her as well. And Gemma had to believe that even a horny one-percenter like Jax would know enough than to toy with the affections of a woman taught to kill by the United States Marine Corps. No, this time around, Gemma truly believed that with Marlowe in the picture, Jax would finally get Dr. Tara Knowles out of his system once and for all.
And if she has any sense, Dr. Baby Killer will stay the hell away from me. I'm no forgiver of weak ass females.
Lost in her musings, Gemma's eyebrows shot up into her hairline as the closed door to the office was thrown open, bringing in the heat of the morning summer sun to reveal the icy figure of Tara Knowles.
Nope, Gemma thought as she casually stubbed out her cigarette in the overflowing ashtray on her desk. The bitch ain't too bright at all.
"Well, shit," Gemma drawled as she brought her feet down from the desk to cross one leg over her knee. "Either I underestimated the amount of balls you possess or I overestimated your smarts, Dr. Knowles. Truth be told, I didn't think you had it in ya to ever walk onto this lot again."
Tara's lips trembled slightly before they tightened into a thin, angry line. "I'm guessing I have you to thank for the welcoming committee outside. That big mountain in a Prospect kutte wouldn't let me in," she said referring to Filthy Phil who, at Gemma's instruction, had stationed himself outside the Clubhouse door. "I'm not here to get into some shit with you, Gemma. Jax never came home last night and I'm here to see my old man."
"Well, that's where shit gets complicated, Tara." Gemma stood up to make her point. "See, according to Jax, your services are no longer required, so don't quote me on this, but I'm thinking you don't have an old man anymore." She watched as the temper flared in the woman's green eyes.
And the fear.
"I don't know what you told Jax, but you don't know what you think you know—" Tara started.
"Oh, I know all of it, sweetheart." Crossing her arms over her chest, the SAMCRO matriarch continued with an arched eyebrow, "I know that you murdered my unborn grandchild, and I know that you led my son and everyone who loves him to believe that you had miscarried. And I know that you let my son blame himself, making him feel responsible for the death of his own child because of the life he lives," she said quietly. "What kind of woman does that to the man she claims to love?"
"I don't have to explain myself to you," Tara replied brusquely. "The only person I owe an explanation to is Jax and I know that once we talk, he'll understand—" she said, stopping abruptly as Gemma started chuckling hard enough to force her back into her office chair.
"Ah, shit," Gemma wiped the tears of laughter from the corner of her eyes. "That statement alone tells me that you don't know Jax Teller as well as you think you do."
"You're wrong. I know him like you never will, Gemma, and that just kills you," Tara said in a challenging tone.
"You may have known the boy you left behind over ten years ago, but you have no clue about the man he has grown into," Gemma started and paused to light up another cigarette. "My son loves deep. He hates deeper. You need to pull your head out of your ass and let yourself see just exactly where it is that you stand with him now. Family and loyalty mean something around here and you betrayed him. You may have tricked out some fantasy in your head that you can somehow smooth shit out with Jax, but you need to face reality, darlin'. He will never forgive you; he will never take you back; and you will never seeAbel again."
In spite of the look of pure hatred she was aiming at Gemma, Tara couldn't keep the tears of frustration and fear from streaming down her face. "You're wrong," she said through clenched teeth. "What Jax and I have is bigger than you. Bigger than SAMCRO! We've loved each other since we were teenagers. If time and distance couldn't break what we have, you sure as hell won't!"
Gemma stormed towards Tara, her hand holding the cigarette gesturing just inches from her face. "I haven't broken shit between you and Jax!" she spit out emotionally. "We may have had a rocky start when you first returned to Charming, but we got over our shit and for the past two years, I have been your biggest supporter. Even in Ireland, when Jax had all but written you off, I was the one that straightened him out, like I told you I would! I told you not to do anything stupid! I told you to wait until we came back with Abel before you made a move there would be no coming back from. I told you that you needed to be the constant in your man's life, especially when things go sideways and he needs to get his shit together."
Tara was shaking her head. "Jax knows he pushed me to a place where I felt like I had no choice. He pushed me away!"
"Did he force you to lie about it too?" Gemma asked sarcastically. "Pathetic! You couldn't tell him the truth when he returned with Abel because you knew you would lose him. Instead, you looked him in the eyes and told him you had lost the baby. You betrayed his trust, Tara. He knows the truth now and he knows he didn't hear from you. How do you expect to come back from that?"
"We love each other," Tara repeated adamantly, even though Gemma could see her hands shake slightly at her side.
"Sweetheart, betrayal only cuts the deepest when it comes from the one you love," Gemma said as if speaking to a small child. "Unfortunately for Jax, it has taken something like this to make him realize that you never belonged in his life in the first place. Once you left, you should have stayed gone."
"No," Tara shook her head, her voice low and despairing. "We belong together. We're soul mates."
Gemma grimaced, her face twisted by disgust. "What you are is obsessed with the idea of making something work that should have died a natural death when you first left Charming. You couldn't own up to what you had done because you knew Jax would have been the one to walk away this time. You couldn't let that happen, so you let him believe that it was all his fault, hanging on to him the only way you could, through guilt. That's not love," Gemma spit out, shaking her head.
"You're wrong," Tara moistened her lips. "He's mine and always will be. We'll get through this together."
Bitch is delusional. Has she even heard a fuckin' word I've said, Gemma wondered absently.
"Really?" Gemma derided. "Well, shit, maybe you do know Jax Teller better than anyone else, huh? I tell you what, go on inside and see him." She picked up the phone on her desk. "I'll call Phil and tell him to let you in." Quickly thinking it over, Gemma suddenly hung up the phone. "As a matter of fact, I'll take you to your soul mate myself." Walking past Tara and out of the office, Gemma smirked as the young woman followed after her. "But I should warn you. He might be just a little preoccupied," she absently threw over her shoulder.
Snuggled down in the warmth of Jax Teller's body, Marlowe lay on her side. Over the course of the last six or seven hours, she had lost count of the number of times just holding each other like this had turned into another lovemaking session. Quietly, Marlowe winced to herself as feelings of guilt overwhelmed her, knowing she had no right to call what they had engaged in as "lovemaking".
It's just sex, pure and simple, she had tried to convince herself each and every time they'd finished, ending up in a hot and sweaty tangle of bodies and curled up in each other's arms once again.
Not having felt a similar connection to a man since she had been diagnosed with PTSD, it had been incredibly difficult to put a halt to any hopes of she and Jax ever getting to know each other like this. As attracted as she had been to the rough but dangerously handsome man from the first time they had exchanged words, playing third wheel in an existing relationship just wasn't her style, especially not one that involved a child.
But as she had gazed at the outlaw biker the night before, who without invitation had invaded her personal space, Marlowe knew she couldn't turn her back on him no matter what the consequences were. Although she had no clue what had made the rage she had seen Jax display the day before turn into the kind of sadness that had made him seek her out for comfort, Marlowe had resolved to deal with that shit in the morning. Her main priority last night had been giving him what he wanted—in all honesty, what they had both been wanting from each other since their eyes first met over the gleaming bar of the Clubhouse so many weeks ago.
Now it was tomorrow and with the light of day had come all the recriminations she had known to expect but hadn't given a shit about. Lying with Jax spooning her, his arms wrapped around her and a heavy leg over hers, pinning her to the mattress, Marlowe couldn't help but think about the glorious night of passion they had shared.
It's a fuckin' cliché, but how can something be so wrong, yet feel so right? Marlowe thought, sighing out loud.
"You sound like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, Doc," Jax said sleepily as he nuzzled the back of her neck through her hair.
Turning her head, Marlowe looked up into Jax's sleep-filled clear blue bedroom eyes.
Not the world, handsome. Just my conscience, she thought but didn't say out loud.
"I thought bikers were the hit it and quit it types," she started with half a smile. Pulling her limbs out from underneath his, Marlowe twisted around on the small bed until she faced Jax completely. "I sure as shit didn't expect to wake up this morning with you in my bed, outlaw."
"I wasn't expecting to either, babe," Jax smiled lazily, "but I know I sure as hell wanted to." He pushed several strands of hair away from her face before cupping her cheek.
Marlowe searched his face, his blond hair a tousled, sexy mess. "What are we doing here, Jax?" she asked quietly.
Jax flashed her a cheesy grin. "Basking in the afterglow," he teased as Marlowe shook her head, fighting the slight smile tugging at her mouth.
"I'm serious—"
"I am too, darlin'," Jax interrupted, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by fierce determination. "Last night was amazing—"
"Yes, it was," Marlowe agreed, "and I never doubted that it would be, Jax, but we had agreed that last night couldn't happen."
"Yeah, we did, but shit happens, Marley," he replied forcefully. "Haven't you ever woken up one morning believing life is one way and that it will always be that way, but by the end of the day you realize it's not and can never be that way again?"
"Of course I have. I don't know what's going on with you, but I get what you're saying because I've been there," Marlowe replied sincerely. "But the fact remains that I feel like a piece of shit for sleeping with another woman's man. That's not what I do and that's not what I want getting around the Clubhouse."
"Then you have nothing to worry about, darlin'," Jax assured her. "You slept with me, not another woman's man." As Marlowe's brows wrinkled in confusion, Jax figured he should just come out and say it. "Tara and I are done."
Holy shit! It took every ounce of self-control in her possession to keep from jumping up and doing a dance all over the small bed.
Tamping down her relief and excitement, Marlowe pursed her lips. "Wow, that came out of nowhere. I guess with one-half of the Gossip Girls laid up in the hospital it makes sense that I'd be the last to know about your change in status."
Jax shook his head. "Not the last, babe. You're the first."
Marlowe's head snapped back. "First? You mean first in the Clubhouse. First after Tara, right?" she asked, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.
Jax's jaw clenched, somehow knowing she wasn't going to like his answer, but he also had the feeling that lying would get him permanently banned from her bed. "No, I haven't spoken to Tara, but after yesterday I'm sure she knows what's coming."
Pulling herself away from Jax and into a sitting position, Marlowe covered herself by tucking the bed sheet under her arms and leaned against the headboard.
"Jax, I'm not some naïve skank with stars in her eyes. You have no obligation to me whatsoever," Marlowe started brusquely, crossing her arms over her chest, "so please don't play me like I'm the other woman, ready to believe her lover every time he tells her he's leaving his wife."
Pulling himself upright as well, Jax looked into her eyes. "That's not what this is about, Marlowe, and that's not what I'm doing," he replied earnestly. "I learned some shit yesterday that shut the door on me and Tara. What happened between you and me last night has nothing to do with that. I just didn't have anything holding me back anymore."
Marlowe looked at him for a long time. "This shit that 'shut the door' on your relationship with your old lady," Marlowe started, "did it have anything to do with why you stormed off the lot yesterday?"
Jax held her gaze and realized that, once again, honesty was the best policy. "Yeah, something like that," he replied. "But I don't want to talk about it, darlin'. I need to make some shit right first."
Marlowe was hearing what he was saying and although he sounded sincere, she couldn't help the unreasonable anger she felt stir within. "Let me get this straight. You don't want to talk about it, but I'm just supposed to believe that I'm not some home-wrecking whore even though you haven't broken up with your old lady yet, is that right?"
"That's right," Jax started, but as Marlowe opened her mouth to protest, he captured her lips with his in a tender kiss. Barely pulling away, he continued, "I'm just not ready to talk about it now. I need some time to quiet the noise in my head and being with you like this is doing that for me, babe. She may not know it yet, but my relationship with Tara is over. I'm taking care of that today and after I do, I need to get a handle on my shit. Please don't lock me out again while I take the time to do that, a'ight?"
Marlowe shook her head slightly. "What does that mean, Jax? I mean, you're a good man and I like you very, very much," she said quietly, "but what does us hooking up look like to the Club? Are they going to start seeing me as a pass-around or rebound pussy? I've earned a measure of respect with the boys and I don't want to lose it like that."
"No one would ever call you a pass-around or rebound pussy, Marley," Jax assured her.
Marlowe let out a mirthless chuckle. "Maybe not to my face," she replied adamantly.
"No one would ever DARE call you that, PERIOD," he reiterated vehemently. "First, that's not what you are, I promise. And second, if I don't rip their tongue out, I know Happy will."
Marlowe suddenly slapped her forehead a little harder than she had intended to. "Shit, Jax! I forgot about Hap. He wasn't too thrilled about us kissing. He's gonna go ape-shit."
Jax shrugged one shoulder. "Then he goes ape-shit. I understand he's your brother and all, but the last time I checked, you're every inch a grown woman," he smiled seductively. "Trust me, babe, I was very thorough and performed several examinations."
"I know and I enjoyed every minute," Marlowe smiled back prettily as Jax chuckled. "And you're right. I can handle Hap."
"Good," Jax yanked the covers away from Marlowe and pulled her towards him. "Because right now, I need you to handle me some more."
Marlowe moved to her knees and poised herself to straddle his lap. She knew he was trying to distract her from whatever misgivings she was still entertaining even as her pebbled nipples brushed against his bare chest. But here she was again, not caring about the consequences once Jax put his hands or his lips anywhere on her body. Moving close to kiss him slowly, she flicked her hips back and forth, her wet slit sliding over his hardening cock.
"I am such a weak bitch, Jax," Marlowe murmured as their breath shortened together.
Nipping at her lips, Jax pulled away from their kiss to look her in her heather gray eyes. "Weak is not a word that would ever describe you, Doc," he almost whispered. "I'm just that good," he added with a cocky grin.
Shit, can't really argue with him there, Marlowe thought as she let her arms coil around his neck.
"I want you, Jax," she said softly, trying to convince herself that she meant only at the moment. Somehow, Marlowe knew that being with Jax Teller would complicate her life. Was it possible to have a man like him without all the drama?
Don't count on it, the small voice of reason in the back of her mind replied.
So what? her heart countered. Drama is just another word for challenging and when have you ever walked away from a challenge?
Never, Marlowe smiled to herself as Jax cupped her ass tightly.
"Fuck!" he groaned as he lifted her hips and penetrated her slowly, causing her to shiver violently against him. She was so fucking tight and felt so damn good, she fit him like a glove. Cupping a breast, Jax gently tugged at the nipple with his teeth. Moaning, Marlowe pulled his face up to hers and kissed him deeply as Jax gripped her hips and thrust upwards several times before she started moving with him.
"Oh God, Jax," she breathed against his lips, their foreheads touching as they moved together in a rhythm that was all their own. Biting into her bottom lip, Jax sucked it gently into his mouth as Marlowe gave in to the pleasure. She came just before he did, crying out and tightening around him as he captured her mouth in a long kiss. Jax thrust one more time into her pulsing body and came with a groan, their tongues slowly tangling as they stilled together.
"Shit, outlaw," Marlowe wheezed softly as the heat of her orgasm reverberated through her body. "My pussy hasn't seen this much action in a long time."
"You complaining?" Jax asked as he flopped onto his back, bringing her down with him to lie on his chest.
"Nope. I just forgot how much fun she can be," she replied with a smirk and could feel and hear the rumble of Jax's laughter through his chest.
"No worries, Doc. I have no plans of letting you forget again anytime soon," he smiled as he pulled Marlowe up for a kiss.
"Oh, really?" she asked cheekily.
Jax nodded, his face a mask of seriousness. "Just between us, I think my dick's in deep 'cause yours is the only pussy he intends on getting to know really, really well."
"In deep? Really?" Marlowe laughed. "You sure have a way with words, don't you, outlaw?" she asked as she ran her fingers through his sweat-damp hair.
"Yeah, that didn't come out right, did it?" Jax smiled as he tenderly rubbed Marlowe's naked back. "But you know what I mean."
"I do," Marlowe rested her chin gently on Jax's chest as she looked into his eyes. Opening her mouth to continue, she snapped it shut as her stomach grumbled loudly.
Jax chuckled. "That was you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Marlowe bit her lip before replying sheepishly, "Yeah, I don't know about you, Pres, but I'm starving."
Turning on his side so that Marlowe fell back onto the bed, Jax said, "Give me a minute, darlin', and I'll go on hunter/gatherer detail." Cradling her face, he kissed her softly and lazily. Lost in each other again, they scarcely heard the knocking on her door.
Marlowe was the first to pull back. "Somebody knocking?"
"No," Jax started just as the knocking started again. "Ignore it," he said, nuzzling her neck as his hand trailed down to the rising peak of her right breast. "They'll get the hint and go away."
However, the knocking not only continued, but grew in its persistence. Finally Marlowe had enough. "SHIT!" she growled as she pushed Jax away from her and tugged herself out of his grasp to climb out of bed. "Next time, hang a sock on the door, will ya?" she started, but quickly forgot what she was about to do as Jax flipped onto his back. With the bed sheets tangled around his long legs, his hair was wild and free and his handsome face a mask of pure, unadulterated sensuality.
Damn, he's so fuckin' hot, she thought, noting what an awesome sketch the visual he was presenting would make. A beautiful and golden Adonis with a dick as big as his ego, Marlowe smirked.
Telling herself to snap the fuck out of it as the knocking started again, she grabbed Jax's SAMCRO t-shirt from where he had tossed it the night before and shrugged it on before making her way to the door. The thought briefly crossed her mind that she might find Happy standing on the other side, but shrugged it off.
How shitty can my luck possibly be?
Unlocking the door, she pulled it open about half a foot wide and found out just how shitty it was indeed. Standing there she found not her brother, but the mother of the man who had laid some glorious pipe all night long. And she wasn't alone.
Holy fuckin' shit, Marlowe thought as she met a pair of angry dark green eyes belonging to Tara Knowles.
Without having to look in a mirror, Marlowe knew she looked like a woman that had been thoroughly fucked sideways. It certainly wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what she had been up to just before opening the door. But let it not be said that the former Corpsman didn't have a poker face as her expression remained one of nonchalance bordering on boredom.
"Can I help you? I'm a little busy at the moment," she addressed Gemma, who was sporting a huge grin.
"Yeah, I kinda figured you would be," Gemma drawled. "Sorry to interrupt, but I have an old lady here who's looking for her soul mate." Her brown eyes twinkled as she eyed the Club's medic.
I cannot believe Gemma would bring this mess to my door! Who is she trying to get killed, me or the doctor bitch?
Before Marlowe could respond, she and the door she had propped against her hip were abruptly shoved to the side as Tara pushed herself past Gemma, the momentum propelling her through the door and into the room. Skidding to a stop, Tara's hands rose to her mouth as she was confronted by the very naked form of her old man lying comfortably in Marlowe Guthrie's bed.
The room fell deadly quiet and standing off to the side, Marlowe ran her hand through her disheveled hair as she watched the duel of emotions playing out on the faces of the couple. Tara's pinched face, Marlowe noted, looked devastated with rage and pain. Still somewhat flushed from his recent orgasm, Jax's face had morphed from a man smug with sexual satisfaction to a hard, blank and angry mask.
Damn, Marlowe thought as she eyed the coldly resolute man lying unabashedly naked, dick still wet from sex with another woman as he stared his old lady down. I would hate to get on Jax Teller's bad side.
Entranced by the wordless exchange, it was only Marlowe's training that alerted her to the danger she was in and had but a brief moment's notice to throw her left arm up to block Tara's right fist.
"You stupid WHORE!" Tara screamed, but catching her arm, Marlowe painfully twisted it behind her back as she slammed her fist across Tara's mouth. Barely paying attention to the blood spurting from the split lip, Marlowe followed it up with a hard punch to Tara's groin. A bit of an overkill, yes, but something Marlowe had been dying to do since the stuck up doctor had labeled her a croweater.
Gasping for breath as the last blow reverberated throughout her lower limbs, Tara doubled over and fell to her knees like a sack of potatoes. Marlowe tossed an angry look at the unmoving form of the man in her bed. Shit like this was what she had wanted to avoid all along.
Pointing to Tara's prostrate figure, she practically growled, "I'm gonna go grab something to eat while you take care of your shit." Giving Gemma a brief nod of respect, Marlowe excused herself as she went to walk past the older woman.
"No worries, sweetheart," Gemma replied, holding the door open. "As a matter of fact, let me make you some breakfast," she offered, waiting for Marlowe to precede her before closing the door and following her down the hall.
A/N: Ahhh! Basking in their afterglow, Jax and Marlowe had a much needed heart-to-heart. Even though she felt a connection to Jax even before they had sex, Marlowe is justifiably concerned about having the Club's opinion of her change if word gets out about them. Aside from knowing that she had the most incredible night of her life, Marlowe's not completely sure about anything else.
Jax, however, seems quite self-assured about the path he has taken with Marlowe. In his mind, the only obstacle left to overcome is dealing with his soon-to-be former old lady.
I know some of you may be a little disappointed that the Marlowe/Tara confrontation came to blows. However, considering Tara's former cat fighting days coupled with the discovery that Marlowe has been intimate with her old man and that life as she knows it is about to come to an end, I think it's totally reasonable that Tara would take a swing at the Club medic. Who better to blame for problems of her own making than the woman currently seeing to Jax's needs? Unfortunately, Tara seems to have forgotten who she's dealing with and I think that it says a lot about Marlowe that she didn't continue using her military training to whup Tara's ass and actually managed to restrain herself. . . kinda, sorta.
The next chapter will not only see Gemma and Marlowe having a very interesting conversation over breakfast, but the long-time-in-coming end of Jax Teller and Tara Knowles.
I want to thank everyone who reviewed the last chapter. It seems that many a cold shower was had this weekend! Sorry 'bout that! :) I hope you guys continue to submit reviews as reading them gives me such pleasure.
Hugs, Harlee.
P.S. Please note that with this chapter I will start posting once a week again. I'm sorry to do this to you guys, but my bank has been depleted of completed chapters. I do have through Chapter 32 in draft, so updates should come every Tuesday.
P.S.S. I love all reviews received to date, but for those reviewing as "guests" please add a name to your submission. Since I can't put a face to all reviews, I would like to at least know readers by name. Thanks.
