AUTHORS NOTE: I've gotten so many responses and messages about updating sooner, and since I'm finally done with the semester, I'll try and get them up as quickly as possible! I'm glad I can give the Jax/Tara supporters a boost during a really awful time.
Tara
After the nurse released me, Jax called Opie and asked for him to pick us up in his truck. The nurse gave Jax permission to take me home after her failed attempts to contact my father, but she didn't like the idea of me jostling on the back of Jax's bike in my fragile state – neither did I, honestly. I didn't want to throw up in front of him, like I knew the vertigo would induce.
I was thankful to sit in Opie's old pick up truck, wrapped securely in Jax's gentle arms. He held my small body against the bulk of his the entire way to my house, letting me rest my head against his hard chest. Surprisingly, there was only a dull ache behind my eyes, though I figured the pain was lessened by the drugs Nurse Kelley had given me. Even if I'd felt worse, I was sure I would've barely paid attention to it. Being held by Jax like that, his fingers stroking the bare parts of my skin, took over all of my senses.
When Opie pulled into my driveway, Jax hopped out of the truck, putting his hands on my waist and easily hoisting me down onto my feet. He kept an arm wrapped securely around my middle, and I inwardly thanked him for it. I felt woozy, standing up again.
"Thanks, Op. Could you leave her in the driveway?" Jax said, nodding his head towards the bed of the truck, where his bike was.
"Sure, brother." Opie nodded, and then looked over at me. "Teach her how to throw a right hook, eh?"
Jax smirked a little, but it didn't reach his eyes. I could tell he was still unhappy about what Wendy and her friends had done to me. "Yeah, will do."
"Thank you, Opie." I said to him, putting my weight against Jax.
"Not a problem, darlin'. Get some rest." He smiled warmly at me, and I realized how much I really did like big, teddy bear Opie Winston.
Jax lead me up to my front door, slowly, letting me take my time because he could see my weakness. I grabbed my keys from my back pocket, and Jax instinctively took them from me. Once we were inside, he put my keys on the hook on the wall, as he'd seen me do several times before, and I loved that he cared so much to do the smallest things for me. I'd always had such an aversion to showing him any weakness because of everything he stood for – the leather cut on his chest staring back at me. But he surprised me, as Jax often did. Either by his intelligence, his gentleness, or the big heart guarded by the rage he tried to tame. I was always on my toes with him, falling deeper every second with his complexities.
"Do you want to go to the couch, or to your bed?" Jax asked, still holding onto me.
Maybe it was the woozy feeling or the numbness from the pain killers, but I began to giggle. Jax looked at me like I'd grown a second head.
"What's so funny?" He furrowed his eyebrows, probably wondering if I'd hit my head a little too hard.
I giggled even more because of his expression. "It sounds like you're asking me where I want to have sex." Then I really began laughing at the stupidity of my ten year old thought process, and that I'd actually admitted to it out loud.
Jax let out a few laughs, but mostly looked at me like I was possibly on the brink of insanity. "How hard did you hit your head?"
"Too hard, apparently." I laughed more, and felt the pain stabbing underneath my forehead. I put my hand to it, my laughter turning into a stifled moan. "Ow."
"Alright, c'mon, jokester." Jax pulled me up into his arms with no effort, cradling me in his arms like a child – or a husband with his newlywed wife. He didn't have to carry me, but I didn't have it in me to stop him. "Time to lie down."
I didn't say anything as he carried me down the hallway to my bedroom.
My room was small, plain. Pale yellow walls, because my mother had wanted it to be gender neutral when she was pregnant with me. White comforter, white curtains, white wood dresser and vanity. I always kept it fairly clean, except for the papers and schoolbooks. The only thing that made my room interesting were the framed pictures of my mother and the purple throw pillows on my bed. It was the one place in the house that was mine, and only mine – out of reach from the hoarding my father was prone to.
Jax laid me gently on the bed, fixing the pillows to give my head a comfortable rest. "Do you need anything? Water?"
"No." I looked up at him, worried. "You're not leaving, are you?"
He smiled like a conspirator, making a point by lying down next to me. I felt so serene as the bed creaked under his weight. I wanted him to stay, forever.
"Where else would I be?" He rolled over onto his side, stretching out his body. "Besides, who's going to keep you up for the next hour? Nurse says you shouldn't sleep, until we're sure you aren't concussed. And... given your shitty jokes, I'm not so sure." Jax teased, lazily smirking.
I followed and gently rolled over onto my side, facing him. The pain killers were giving me some kind of boldness, because I didn't filter myself like I usually did. I wasn't one for joking, or making jokes about sex – I was too quiet, too inexperienced and innocent. But I blurted, "And you chose bed. Good choice."
Jax tried and failed to hide his shock at my innuendos – it showed in his eyes. I was just as surprised with myself, but something in me wouldn't stop it. Maybe because, subconsciously, I wanted to know. I wanted to be as close to him as possible, because never in my life have I ever wanted so much to be close to anyone.
"Have you ever..." He trailed off, his voice quieting and taking a serious turn. I think he already knew, but something about confirming it for him felt very intimate.
"Never." I whispered, staring at his lips. When would he kiss me again?
"Nothing at all?"
I blushed when I responded, "No. Not even close."
Jax was quiet for a long time, looking away from my face. There was something downtrodden about his expression, and it worried me.
"What's wrong?" I asked, hesitantly putting a hand on his collarbone to get his attention back.
His eyes were so blue and troubled, looking back at me with a guarded expression. "Aren't you afraid?"
I didn't understand what he meant. "Of what? Sex?"
Jax shook his head, releasing a heavy sigh. His long, calloused fingers began to trail up and down my arm lightly, and he watched each stroke they took in a trance. "Not just that. Of me, corrupting you."
A short laugh escaped my mouth. "Corrupting me?"
Jax sighed again, his fingers moving from my arm to my jean covered hip. My breath hitched up, my heart starting and restarting over again. Did he notice what he did to me?
"We're from two different worlds, Tara. I'm not... like you." Jax's voice was hesitant and thoughtful, and it made me think of David Hale, his warning to Jax to stay away from me. It made me think of Wendy Case, and her proving I wasn't nearly tough enough to handle the life that Jax Teller belonged in. No one wanted to see us together.
I didn't care.
I cupped his face with my hand, my fingers laying against the length of his strong jawline. "You're not corrupting me. Don't listen to anyone else." I whispered, our eyes meeting. "I want you. I want us."
Jax's fingers clutched onto my hip, drawing me closer to him. Our noses brushed; he'd brought us so close. I couldn't breathe. "Me, too." He whispered back, before he closed the space and, finally, kissed me.
Our second kiss.
It wasn't like the first, because it didn't start slow, nor were we unsure what we were doing. Jax expertly parted my lips with his tongue, our mouths twining in burning desire – the longing need I'd been feeling for him all day, coming to its climax. My arms wrapped around his neck, my heart thrumming hard against my chest as he kissed me without self control. Without thinking about it, my leg hitched up and hooked onto Jax's hip, drawing him into me. The involuntary groan he let out into my mouth set my entire body on fire.
He broke the kiss and hissed furiously. "God damnit, Tara. Stop."
"Why?" I begged, trapping his mouth with mine again and tightening my leg's grip on him. I felt the hardness in his jeans press against my center, and gasped.
Jax groaned again, his body tensing. "Please. Don't."
I pulled back a little, reeling in from my driving lust, and feeling anxious at the way his voice sounded. "Why?" I breathed, heated, fumbling inside of my head for answers. "Don't you... want me?"
Jax scoffed, his face twisting into annoyance. "Of course I fucking want you, Tara."
"Then... why?" I whispered, recoiling from him. My limbs untangled from his and I eased away, giving him space. I felt rejected.
He sat up in the bed, sighing heavily and detaching himself from me. What was so complicated about this? "It doesn't feel right." He finally said. I wrapped my arms around myself, shrinking under how that made me feel. When Jax looked back to me, he must have seen my disappointment, because he quickly continued. "No, that's not what I mean. It does feel right. Really fucking right," He amended, taking one of my hands in his. "I just... want it to be different with you."
"How do you mean, different?" I tried to understand.
"I've never... waited on anyone, you know?" Jax began, looking at our fingers laced together. "I want to take this slow. You're..." He paused, shifting his eyes to my face. "Important to me."
I felt a little heat fill my cheeks. It was the most he'd ever said about the way he felt about me. Nothing else mattered but that, and the elated feeling he'd planted in my chest. "You're important to me, too, Jax."
He smiled a half smile, and it made him look so young. It was the purity of joy, so different from the weights of his responsibilities and how it made him so austere.
"One step at a time, okay?"
"Okay." I promised.