Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from "Sons of Anarchy." They are the property of Kurt Sutter and Fox Network. No money is changing hands in the writing, reading or distribution of this story.

Chapter 12

The situation wasn't good. Tig hated being surprised by anything, and that's exactly what this had been. He'd been focusing for so long on reconciling his hatred and fear of what he felt for Joss with also admitting to himself that he just couldn't live without her anymore, and in it all he never once thought about how it was going to change everything. Everything! All these weeks, all day today, he'd been looking so forward to bringing her back to this house, their house, and christening every damn room of it with shit he hadn't even forced drunken sweetbutts into doing. And then Gemma was gone, and it was this house, him and Joss…and a hammer, apparently. He was beginning to understand perhaps why he just couldn't let go of that hammer; it was the only thing he could count on being able to pound Joss with.

He didn't remember how, but somewhere along the lines they'd drifted from the garage up onto the porch, where they'd passed a good three hours talking about the weather, the trees around the house, if Joss should dye her hair a darker color or not, if he should get another bike or not, but Tig already knew the answer to that one. He wasn't even really sure what they were currently discussing, something about the way the sun was setting or something. His mind had gone numb about an hour ago, but he'd remained painfully aware that Joss sat on the very top step of the porch, and he was all the way at the bottom, the distance between them speaking more than they could for themselves. The crisis was still a crisis, though neither of them had dared to delve into it, and neither wanted to try. It seemed that somehow, if they just ignored it, it was going to go away. Maybe somewhere in Joss's inexperienced mind, she actually believed that eventually, they'd just look at each other the right way, and then touch each other in the right place, and one thing would lead to another, and their problem would be solved. But for Tig, he knew that wasn't possible. There were too many contradictions to fight through, too many ways he knew he just couldn't count on himself to respond; he burned to have her naked flesh under his hands, but at the same time, he had no idea how to touch her anymore. This was all so fucking stupid! She was his property! He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to her, and she couldn't say a damn thing about it. How she felt about it, if she was even satisfied, didn't matter anymore. Why keep putting this pressure on himself? Why didn't he just go up there, rip her clothes off and fuck her until he came?

Why? Because that would have made him her father, that would have made him Butcher, that would have made him any number of guys she'd no doubt been passed around to, that Tig regrettably felt that he preferred not to think about. But, he was her father, he was Butcher, he was one of those guys who used women, took what he wanted without caring about anything other than what he wanted. He'd convinced himself that he'd been doing the same with Joss too, even though being with her, being inside her, was unsettlingly different from fucking some hangaround whore. But at least then, what he felt and what he denied was his secret. It wasn't so anymore. He'd never told her he loved her, and he knew he never would, but…damn that girl! Was there no end to the torture she was always, somehow, inflicting upon him? She'd fucked up his mind, she'd fucked with his emotions, and now she'd even found a way to fuck with his body…yeah, and he was fucking stupid enough to sit down here on the bottom step thinking that he owned her!

This whole thing fucking sucked, and every time he turned around, it was like it fucking sucked even more than it did before, but only in a new and unpredicted way. God damn that fucking property patch! Whoever thought of the damn things needed one shoved up their ass, stuck out of an empty beer bottle, half filled with gasoline! He should have thought about that more, maybe he'd have taken it down a few notches, not put his name on the patch, just let her be property of SAMCRO in general…of course, that would have meant that any of his brothers, Bobby, Happy, Juice, Jax, eventually even Half-Sack, could have had Joss any time they wanted to. No, he couldn't have watched that, or even know it was happening. He'd done what felt right, and Tig still felt like it was right, but how were they going to get through this? The pressure was truly on him to find an answer, because Joss was only eighteen, she'd never practiced this serial monogamy, love making shit with anyone…but Tig had. Joss was right, he had done this before, "the right way" as she'd said it…but just how he used to love a woman, and be her lover had for so long been beaten down in his memory that there were nothing but tattered bits of it left. It was so hard now to even imagine that once, fucking…no, sex had been equally as much about what he felt emotionally as it was what he felt physically. There had once been an organ that had to share the spotlight with his eight in dick, his heart. But, those two really didn't talk to each other anymore. Christ he hated to be thinking about this now, but what other options did he have, and what other experience did he have to draw from except for his marriage, another lifetime ago? Fuck!

Whatever Joss had been saying, she suddenly stopped, able to tell he hadn't exactly been tuned into her for some time now. She sighed, ran her hands up her long legs, free of the casts, reminding Tig how much he wanted them over his shoulders, but he said nothing, didn't move, just watched her folding her arms in her lap. "Look," she said, staring down the steps at him, her exact expression difficult to read due to the fading day light. "I'm going to call Gemma, I think you're going to be more comfortable here tonight if I go back to her and Clay's house." She paused like she wanted to say more, or wanted him to say something, but after a few seconds of nothing happening, she sighed again. "Maybe it's just too soon?"

Without any thought to it, Tig was shaking his head. "You can't do that." He looked at her quickly and then grabbed an acorn cap that lay on the sidewalk and winged it out into the wooded yard at the tree it had no doubt fallen from.

"Why can't I?" Joss asked without any hesitation, immediately earning her a harsh 'how dare you' look from him. She was his, what he said was what was from now on, would she ever get that? She rolled her eyes at him. "I mean, besides the fact that you said so."

"Joss, you call Gemma and tell her to come pick you up and you're going to make me look like I couldn't…" he sighed, feeling like they were entering into that shit-hole conversation they'd had in the garage hours ago. "No, don't call her. You're not going anywhere."

She nodded, but he heard her exhale sharply, and she ground her teeth a little within her closed mouth. Her temperament had been so even for so long sitting up there on the top step, but had she only been stewing some kind of shit storm over this the whole time? Joss was not without the occasional interlude of crazy herself; when the pressure of something broke her down, she was like the Tasmanian Devil…no, she was like a scene out of "The Exorcist," minus the pea soup flying everywhere! It was actually one of the things Tig kind of liked about her, but she wasn't stupid enough to be getting an attitude about this, was she? Now was no time to be fu—…messing with him! "You know, you're just sitting down there moping about how you don't know what to do with this, and you don't think about how it all makes me feel, do you?"

Jesus fucking Christ! There was that tone in her voice, that tone that started off all normal but would change into the insane, screaming wail of a fucking banshee in a heartbeat. She was picking now to start jacking with him! "Don't do it, Joss." Tig kept his eyes forward, but his voice rose with his annoyance that was quickly turning over into anger. "That's all I'm saying, and I'm only saying it once!" He hoped that would back her down, shut her up. He'd never hit her, and he didn't want to start.

But she wasn't backing down, just kept coming with it like something that didn't know when it was dead. He could feel her slowly moving her way down the steps like the approach of a storm surge, getting closer to him of all things until she sat right there beside him. Her eyes were amazing to see when she was like this though, he swore they glowed. She stared at him through that fire now, with two wide open burning emeralds that threatened to pull him into the depths of hell. He hadn't been there when she'd unloaded a clip into her father, but Tig knew that this was the last thing that asshole had seen. "I do not believe that after all the shit you've done, and all the stories I've heard about how fucking sick you are, and all the sick shit you've fucked, that I am what turns you off!" Her voice sounded like something malevolent slinking darkly down some stairs, gradually building in anger and volume until she was full out yelling at him, and Tig's own rage wasn't lagging very far behind hers. She'd lost her fucking mind; that was clear! And then Joss just exploded, shaking with every word she screamed. "So thank you, Tig! Thank you for making me have to live with the knowledge that fresh horses and dead bodies do more for your big dick than I do!"

Chapter 12; Part 2

Oh God, she should beg him to stop, this was more than she'd imagined! Her lip was split open, the blood trickling all over her neck and chest, staining the wood of the step Tig forced her down against so hard her forehead smacked it with a dull thud. Her right wrist, newly out of a cast, felt for certain like he'd sprained something in it when he'd grabbed it and held her submissively still by bending it as far back as it would go. There were tears in Joss's eyes, though she wasn't crying, she knew better than to start with that, that wouldn't matter, it would only fuel his fire. The hand that Tig had wrapped around the back of her neck kept tightening and tightening, his fingers and thumb exerting so much pressure on each side of her trachea that Joss was beginning to black out, the porch steps, the sidewalk that tore the skin off of her knees, the house, the whole fucking day, spinning out of control. God this was so fucked up, this was so so so fucked up…but she was cumming!

Tig was all force and fury behind her, growling with each thrust that took his breath away, sinking deeper and deeper inside her, Joss's body shuddering as his big cock claimed every inch of the slick, weeping sheath between her legs. The hand that was not threatening to nearly strangle her was pressed firmly into the dark curls below her trembling belly, his fingers jammed deeply into her dripping slit, closed tightly over her twitching clitoris, pinching it until it felt ice cold, cutting off any real chance of relief from the pressure and tension that built and built within her entire groin.

What had she expected? Tig was not something to be trifled with, his sense of right and wrong a bit behind the impulse to hurt, maim and kill. She'd lost it on him, screamed her guts out at him, and now he was losing it on her. She'd barely finished her tirade before his angry blue eyes flashed with revenge, and she was face down against the bottom step, short skirt yanked up around her hips and panties torn off, the biggest dick she'd ever seen, let alone fucked, tearing its path inside her with one ragged stroke.

Her punishment continued, rough and fast and hard, Tig's growls becoming louder, his thrusts a more desperate grind, letting go of her neck to grab her hip and pull her back against him and wedge his big, throbbing cock ever deeper, his body beginning to shudder, but his fingers remained squeezed around her taut, begging clitoris as though he meant to pinch it completely off.

Joss couldn't help her whimper, working her hips against Tig's, bucking against him wildly, but his hand didn't let go of her trapped little bud, and he only pounded into her more, breathing harder and harder. She gasped for air, finally able to get at it, but it wasn't enough, too many tensions danced over her body like electricity, threatening to short her out if she didn't cum. She tried to say his name, tried to beg for some kind of mercy, but it wasn't easy to speak when she was being fucked so hard and had suffered the grip of a hand around her throat.

Tig gave a sudden and final grunt, slamming his dick into her hard, a good long stroke that left his balls flat against the seal of her wet fissure and came, slumped forward onto her with all his weight as his cock pumped out what felt like gallons of his hot seed inside her, everything in him relaxing now, including the hand that had brought so much agony to her clitoris. Gradually his hold lessoned, the blood rushing back into her abused little organ, and with it, the intense cue of orgasm.

Her body nearly became spastic against Tig's, who moaned and shoved his still hard cock into her deeper yet. He'd cum, it was dripping down her thighs, but the only thing that seemed to be softening was the way he needed her. He moaned each time her body contracted around his embedded shaft, both his arms now wrapping around her waist and hugging her against him, one hand again snaking down between her legs and this time gently rubbing her battered little nub, making her worn out passage continue to contract around his still rock hard cock. He was quietly moaning her name in an oddly tender way every time her body embraced his as if he never wanted it to end. But Joss couldn't take anymore, and as soon as his grip lessoned, she wrestled away from him, her now hypersensitive body still tingling everywhere he'd touched her.

She still tried to catch her breath, turning herself over, her knees burned too much to be on them now, and she leaned back against the steps, feeling some of the aches and pains subsiding as her body gradually relaxed. Her lip had stopped bleeding too; actually feeling like it wasn't quite as bad as it had felt when she was face down on her knees. Tig was kneeling in front of her now, his eyes still closed as he also recovered.

"Well," she sighed, but panted still. "I guess we know that impotence is not your problem after all." In fact, he was still hard, his full eight inches jutting out towards her cum soaked thighs.

Tig's eyes sprung open, shocked to now see her looking back at him, focusing on her bloody lip, trying to put all the pieces in order, and as he did, Joss could see them clicking into place. She nodded her head as if coaxing him along to the answer; yeah, she'd concocted that little shit fit about him not being turned on by her, she'd pushed every button he had, pushed him as far as he would go, until he couldn't stop, and she'd done it all on purpose!

But it was evident that Tig wasn't understanding this, or okay with it. He tucked his unrelenting erection back into his jeans and carefully tried to zip them back up. He looked at her with a mix of confusion, anger and fear of just what he'd done to her, standing up and stepping away from her as if he didn't trust himself not to harm her somehow. "What the fuck is going on?"

Joss took a deep breath, hoping he'd understand. "I'm sorry, I know that wasn't really fair to you, but," oh God did she feel horrible for doing this now, but it was done, and they were both okay…at least, they would be. "But I needed you to see that…what I wanted you to realize…" Fuck, how did such a brilliant plan that made so much sense in her head turn to such immediate shit when she tried to put it into words? And Tig was waiting, stuck between hating her and hating himself, and that wasn't right. "Look, if you can do what you just did to me, and I can still love you, then we are going to be fine, no matter what happens in bed! You get me?"

Tig shook his head, the strangest look on his face, and twice he started to say something, but didn't. Well, it wasn't like they'd ever gone through this before; she had to give him that. If he'd forced something like this on her…well, Joss didn't want to think about what the proper name for it would have been then. Oh no! She'd done this to make things better between them, but what if it only made them worse? Joss suddenly felt cold, so cold…and alone. He'd been quiet for so long, too long. "Tig?"

He looked back at her, his eyes staring directly into hers like he was trying to discern just what was in there looking back at him. Joss's heart began to pound again, so sure he'd never, ever trust her again, if he still even wanted anything to do with her that was. And then there was the strangest sound. Tig laughed. "Little girl," he sort of leered down at her, a half impressed look on his face that brought a rush of warmth to Joss. The first time Tig had ever looked at her like that was when he'd stood in the great room of her old house, holding the gun she'd used to kill her father. "You are more fucked up than I am!"