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.
Warning: This chapter contains sexual descriptions.
Chapter 29
Jax and Tara had gone home an hour and a half ago. Joss would have worried that Tig maybe had put Tara off and she wanted to just leave, but then, she and Jax did have the baby to get to bed. Clay and Tig had departed to the back deck, Clay with a cigar and Tig with his cigarettes, a six pack of light beer between them. Light beer had never been a favorite of Tig's but he did have to drive both he and Joss home after all, and she'd been so touched about how mindful of what he drank and took he'd been, without her ever having to bring it up…well, except once, and that didn't really count, because they were already at home…him and the "X" he'd gotten from…whoever. Joss never drank, never got high, but she hadn't said anything the first time Tig had done it, but the second time he'd mentioned doing it again, she'd groaned and then put her foot down.
"Whatdaya mean this doesn't work the way I think it does?" He'd stood there asking her with the baggy in his hand as they argued in the kitchen.
She'd just shook her head and tried not to yell. "I mean I'm not spending another night under the bed with you, hiding from the fairies!"
He'd made a face then looked at her like she held the key to some terrible quandary, a noticeable insecure worry taking him over. "When I said 'fairies,' did I mean the kind that take your teeth when they fall out, or—"
"Boats!" Joss had answered, folding her arms over her chest and glaring at him.
Tig drew back a bit, really caught off guard, and then looked at the baggy full of little tablets like maybe they really were out to get him. "Fuck!" He remarked, then dropped it into the trash, leaving Joss doing her best not to laugh, having made up the whole "boat" part just to really weird him out on the "X" and put him off…it was the ethereal little beasties that had been plaguing Tig that night…and she truly didn't have another flyswatter episode in her every time the wind blew through the trees and the shadows moved on the wall…oh the stories they'd have had to tell their grandchildren…
She was still kind of snickering to herself about that as she and Gemma stood in the kitchen. The boys going off to "play" had left Gemma and Joss with the dishes, but that was okay, Joss didn't mind, it was kind of nostalgic. On nights when Clay would help her, carrying her and her broken leg and fractured foot from the dining room into the kitchen after dinner, and securing her between two kitchen stools, one for her to sit on, and the other to prop her broken leg upon, Joss would dry the dishes that Gemma washed by hand, and then Gemma would put them away. As a result, Joss now knew where every plate, bowl, glass, knife, fork and spoon went in this kitchen…just like she'd grown up in the house. They were about done the dishes now, but it had been a good time to talk, Joss telling Gemma about "Tijo," and Gemma just rolling her eyes, but laughing nonetheless.
Joss wished she could tell Gemma about the day she and Tig had spent together, for she was still buzzing from it, couldn't stop thinking about it for more than a minute or two, and her body still ached pleasantly from Tig's ardor and her own desire for him. But of course she couldn't tell Gemma that…well, maybe she could, but she didn't want to. It was her and Tig's "stuff," and while she was dying to go on and on about how happy she was, and how incredible he was, and how good she felt about being with him today, what they'd been doing was…special. Oh God, Tig would be so pissed if he heard her calling it that…it hadn't been some loving, tender, romantic thing…it was their usual bang this, suck that, drive it deep and push it hard kinda thing, but it had possessed a certain…was "equality" the right word? It felt like it was; Tig was suddenly recognizing her desires for him, what parts of his body she couldn't wait to get her hands on, what she wanted him to do her, what she wanted to do to him…within the confines of Tig's "rules" of course, that was. But it hadn't mattered, she'd never kissed him so much before, and not just his mouth; he'd pretty much conceded his chest to the want of her hands and mouth, which Joss truly had been turned on by…and even now, while stacking plates in Gemma's cabinet, was thinking about how much she wanted to wriggle her fingers through all those dark hairs, stroking his skin and coaxing the muscle beneath it to both tense and relax in response to her touch, then cover every inch of his upper body in long, slow kisses. Tig may not have been huge and ripped, but what he did have was rock solid and all man.
Usually after she and Tig had sex, Joss bore bruises from bites, and sometimes teeth marks as well, and always there were plenty of "hickeys" as they were called…but today, she wasn't the only one covered in the imprints of rough passion. The crescent marks of her fingernails studded his forearms where she'd been allowed to hold him as he made demands of her body to feel such heights of bliss that she'd been certain she'd just explode with it all. She'd left him with three or four little stippled strawberry marks on his collar bone, and chest and even one on of biceps where her kisses had become overzealous attempts to take as much of him as she could and just hold it inside her. But she hadn't gotten away unscathed herself. Her shoulder was seriously bruised from where he'd bitten her as she gave him the last part of her he'd been yet to truly conquer, and Joss never would have figured that particular activity would have left her shoulder sore, of all things. But aside from some more than tolerable discomfort in the expected places, she was fine…better than fine…felt used, by Tig…thoroughly used by Tig. It was damn near spiritual!
He'd put her above him today too, catching her by surprise when he'd suddenly grabbed a handful of her ass and then rolled to his back, his hands immediately on her hips, guiding her in moving so that they never lost their rhythm, his cock pushing upwards inside her, deeper and deeper as her body slid down against his. She'd climaxed in no time, every muscle convulsing above him and around him, feeling her own body gripping and pulling at his deeply rooted cock like the strong strokes of a hand, realizing Tig had been watching her intently as that wave had crashed over her, pulling her down to him and kissing her, hoarsely whispering, "love me like that again," and his finger was soon over her clit, rubbing in a gentle circle that intensified in fury with the way she slowly grew more active and frantic above him as she rode him.
But there was more, so much more, to it than that. Tig identifying and celebrating that Joss had her own desires for his body, that she was a creature even capable of wanting and needing and loving sex as much as he did, brought forth a sense of identity that had surprised Joss. Two years ago, the first time Tig forced her little body to open up for the rough invasion of his substantial cock, he'd given her a sense of her sexuality, but unless she was with him, it had always been muted. But now, today, the melding of their equal desires melted down Joss as the girl Tig fucked, and remolded her as a woman, strong enough to withstand anything she faced…and Tig was most certainly 'anything.'
It had all sent a sudden rush of empowerment shooting through her veins, above her man as he let her use him however she liked, his body so deeply embedded inside hers, that oneness so powerful that Joss had needed to…touch it. Her hand slid down between her beautiful, full white breasts, over her soft, fair skin, through the dark curls that tangled with the ones of Tig's body, slipping easily through her own aroused pink folds, stopping when the base of Tig's big, hard cock split her fingers. She pressed her hand against herself, and against him as well, feeling how his shaft swelled and struggled inside her and how the velvet of her sheath tightly caressed every spasm, her fingers deeply within and against the fissure where his body became hers and her body became his. It was hypnotic, memorizing how their bodies felt while joined together, and she suddenly realized that her hand was no longer alone, but that Tig's fingers now touched the treasure of their physical union along with hers, as spellbound by what he felt as she was, and both of them paying it the ultimate homage and dissolved into the same climax. Hours after, here in the kitchen, the mere memory of it still made Joss shudder and gasp for a breath.
"Ooh, you get a chill?" Asked Gemma, a bit concerned when she'd noticed Joss give a sudden shake. "You're not getting sick on us, are you?" Before Joss could answer, Gemma's hand was cupped to her forehead.
Oh God! Joss couldn't believe that had happened…but damn, did she want to be with Tig right now, glancing out the part of the screen door to the deck that she could see, finding her man as he sat on the steps, his back to her, coolly exhaling smoke and completely unaware of what he was still doing to her…or how much she wanted him to do it again! Oh no…now she'd felt herself flush...Gemma was getting more and more concerned, it was time to explain her way out of this one as delicately as Joss could. "I'm fine, Gemma." She said, putting the last dish in the cabinet. "I just have a…little bit of an allergic reaction to beef, that's all."
Gemma looked at her like she was trying to determine if that was really it, finally shrugging her shoulders. "Huh," she said then returned to the glass she'd been drying, carefully shoving the towel into it and twisting it around clockwise. "Joss,"
"Yeah?" She shook out her dish towel and hung it over the handle to the oven door for it to dry, the way Gemma always did, then stole another glimpse of her man through the screen door…he had a strong back…a very strong back.
"Don't bother with that KY Lube that's supposed to get 'warm on contact,'" Gemma smirked over her shoulder as she put the glass away, smirking more when Joss's hand suddenly flew over her "o" shaped mouth, seconds before she started laughing. Gemma shook her head, still smirking. "I think you two are hot enough already."
Chapter 29; Part 2
Tig heard someone at the screen door behind him, turning to see that it was Joss and not Gemma. He smiled at her, the darker it got outside, the more every thought he had was of her. "You coming outside to play, little girl?" He asked, clearing it with Clay first via a nod from the prez.
"If I'm not interrupting anything important," she answered, but the way she looked at him, Tig didn't care what she interrupted, he just wanted her close to him.
"It's cool," he smiled, and reached up, opening the door. "Get out here."
Clay chuckled a little, the end of his cigar glowing orange as he inhaled its flavor. "Now you see, you can tell you two are still in that 'honeymoon phase,'" he said, taking the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling the dusky smoke. "She still asks if you want her to come out here and sit with you; Gemma makes me come inside with her and then tells me what couch I can sit on."
Tig smiled at Clay's comment, but smiled more up at Joss, whose hands he'd taken as she walked down the steps he sat on, bringing her over in front of him and pulling her down to him. "You're not going to do that to me, are you?"
She looked down at him and smiled like she was trying to reconfigure her answer to that for something appropriate in front of Clay. "It depends on what else I could be doing to you."
Tig said nothing, but raised an eyebrow at her and winked…she was perfect, even if she didn't eat meat…who cared, as long as she was into the 'bone' as much as she was! She was trying to move away and sit beside him, but that was nowhere near good enough. He tightened his hold on her hands, turning her around so her back was towards him and then pushing down on her shoulders so that she'd sit down on the step immediately below the one he sat on, and lean back against him, sitting between his knees. When Joss realized what he wanted, she gave him a surprised look, stalling for a second or two, but he just nodded at her, his eyes on hers; it was okay, there were certain people that he didn't worry about being demonstrative with her in front of, and Clay and Gemma were certainly on the top of that very short list. He laughed though at what she'd said as she settled in against him; her body was just magic when it came in contact with his. "You do have a talent for thinking of shit, that's for sure."
Joss laughed, so did Clay, who looked on sighing a bit. "She wouldn't be worth your spit if she didn't." He said to Tig, then glanced into the kitchen at where Gemma was putting away plastic wrap and tin foil from the "to go" plates she'd made up to send home with Tig and Joss. "You find one like either one we got, you damn sure put your patch on it."
Tig nodded, feeling Joss's cheek lay softly against the inside of his thigh as she smiled over at Clay. Damn that felt good, and she wasn't inching towards his cock or anything, this hardly even looked obscene, but she couldn't have made it more clear that she was his, looked so much like she belonged to him leaning against him like that, and he just wanted to complete the whole feel of that. The day with her had been…well, there weren't really words for it, though Tig had thrown a few at describing it even though they all fell short. But even more than the unbelievable sex was the undeniable evidence of the way Joss trusted him. He hadn't been ready for the way that would fill him up and still linger inside him; yes, he was her keeper, her did own her, she was his property, but it hadn't been brute force that put her where she was, but her complete and utter faith in him that had made her willingly submit herself to him.
Her trust in him was something he couldn't wait to show off, and now was the perfect moment. Both his hands smoothed across Joss's white shoulders, meeting at her neck, where he cupped his palms on either side, his fingers laced loosely with one another below her chin over her throat, and his thumbs touched together beneath the curtain of her long, soft, black hair at the back of her head, caressing her in a soft, gentle stranglehold. Joss, sweet, dark, beautiful Joss sighed happily within his collaring hands, not refusing his tender restraint or becoming uncomfortable the way other women would have…like Jax's doctor bitch, no doubt. Clay looked on at them both and kind of sighed and shook his head like he expected such creepiness to be comfortable between the two of them, but he said nothing, only gave Tig an impressed smile.
"Gemma's patched?" Joss asked, sounding like she was a little embarrassed to be asking, like maybe it was common knowledge for everyone and it was stupid to ask, but her answer came with both Tig and Clay quietly nodding their heads. "So, where is it?"
"It's in the closet," answered Clay, leisurely blowing out smoke again.
But Joss was squinting with her puzzlement. "Why doesn't she wear it?" She asked, and Tig could feel her pulse quicken in her neck, maybe a little disappointed that her heroine didn't play by these rules that were obviously so sacred to Joss.
"She's Gemma," Tig smiled down at her. "That's how she rolls."
Clay nodded and smiled. "I hooked up with that woman a year before we decided to get married, and even after there was a diamond on her finger, all she jabbered about was when was I going to give her a property patch…so finally, the night before the wedding, I go ahead and make a gift of it to her." Clay paused and laughed fondly. "She promptly opened it, held it up, inspected every detail, then looked at me and smiled, then said, 'Thank you! I'm not wearing this.'"
Tig and Clay both laughed, but Joss still seemed to need more closure than that. "But why doesn't she—"
Tig couldn't help but smile even as he quieted Joss with a harmless, quick squeeze of his hands around her throat as she sat there the steps, clutching the long laces at the front of her property patch as if someone were threatening to remove it from her back. She was so damn cute, her patch obviously meant so much to her…fuck, there he went using the word "cute" again! "Gemma's situation was different from yours is." He explained to her, not wanting her to have any inclination that it was wrong to want to wear her patch, or that she shouldn't. "She was widowed, had a kid, lost a kid, and had buried her first patch in the box with John." He said, stroking her behind her ear a little with his thumb as she looked up at him, paying attention to every word. "You just hold what you got and keep working it the way you are, because ain't no one better at it than you are, baby."
Clay was nodding his agreement, but also sighed. "Sometimes I think I shoulda pushed harder for Gemma to wear my patch," he said, then looked particularly at Joss, still held carefully within Tig's loving choke. "And Joss, you never heard me say this!" He insisted, waiting until she nodded to continue, Tig smiling widely at knowing that his girl was caliber enough to be brought into Clay's confidence. "And I don't say that I think I shoulda had Gemma wear the patch for her, or even for me, but for Jax." He said, then sighed again and drank the rest of the beer in his bottle. "That boy grew up without any real 'structure,' as it pertains to this club, and now he's the VP who runs around doing as he pleases, thinking he's smarter than everyone else, trying to re-route the Sons in a direction we were NEVER going…" Clay opened up another beer and took a drink, Tig nodding slowly as he and Joss listened, but then, how many times had he and Clay had this discussion? But now his Joss was privy to it, being made aware of something Clay only discussed with Tig. Clay shook his head sadly. "Nope, I'm afraid I didn't do that boy any favors at all…he, and any other brother who stands with him, crashes and burns, it's all on me."