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 descriptions of sexual acts

Chapter 56

Joss was so beautiful; she lie against his chest, sound asleep, the fingers of one hand curled around the dark hairs on his beneath his pec and the other tucked safely below his own hand. Tig was tired, couldn't have moved now if he'd had to, but he also couldn't sleep, just lay here as the sun began to rise, looking at his sweet, dark, perfect little angel…there wasn't a piece or part of her that didn't rival that of any centerfold he'd ever jerked off to, and she far surpassed any other hangaround or crow-eater he'd ever had the opportunity to closely scrutinize. But she was more than a nice rack, gorgeous ass, long legs and a pretty face; she was intelligence like no one could begin to decode, had the sweetest nature that wouldn't even allow her to eat meat, and the loyalty and protectiveness that Tig had never associated with any woman, except for Gemma. Joss…no wonder Bobby had suggested putting her out in the forefront of SAMCRO at the CBA's, no wonder Clay had thought it was such a great idea; no wonder Tig loved her…and no wonder Opie did as well.

Sunday morning approached, that meant there was only more day with her to do nothing but fuck her…sleep a little…fuck her some more…eat if they were hungry, shower when they got too sweaty, and then fuck her some more. He couldn't tear himself away from her, she was like a drug that he'd suddenly found himself addicted to; he needed nothing else from the outside the world, only her, in their bed, an island inhabited by only the two of them, nothing else required, just him for her and her for him. His Joss…he'd wanted her and needed and loved her in more ways than he'd even bothered to ever think about before. She knew he loved her, and when she'd made him have to realize that she did, it was like some final piece of this emotional puzzle that was his life with her had snapped into place…or almost, anyway. There was still something out there Tig had to do here, but what it was still eluded him. The answer seemed to be close whenever he was with her like this though, just holding her close, watching her sleep, stroking her hair, keeping her safe and secure against him. They needed more of this…there would never be enough of this…and he'd fought being here for so fucking long…why? And now the weekend was dwindling away.

Saturday morning had dawned with Joss finding herself to be much more sore than Tig had predicted he'd be himself. It was in the way she'd moved, he'd seen her wince as soon as he'd parted her legs, but she was so perfect, and she wanted him so much; she'd been ready to suffer whatever agony lay ahead to be close to him and give him what she knew he wanted, probably thinking this would increase his pleasure and satisfaction because it would hurt her. And it would definitely have hurt her, for when Tig had eased his hand between her thighs to check her out, he could feel how swollen and tender she was around her entrance, hissing and flinching as he'd lightly touched her. She'd obviously never been fucked so much that she ended up in that condition before, and maybe it was out of some sick, but awesome, pride, but Tig had decided then and there that it was on him to make this all better for her, telling her, "it's okay, baby. You know I won't hurt you, I'll take good care of you."

But she did know her old man, there were times when Tig did want to feel her jolt and jump in pain and shock beneath him, or cry out as he pinched, or twisted or bit some soft part of her form, but doing something to her that would be all pain, and offer her no pleasure? No, he wouldn't do that, not to Joss, and that's when Tig had thought of the baby oil she sometimes poured into her hot baths when she had no other exotically scented varieties. Damn, no wonder her skin was always so fucking soft…having her beneath him was like satin, silk, cashmere and angora all wrapped into one and then wrapping around him…shit, he could scoop that up in his arms and nuzzle against that forever; it made him never want to get off of her, or let go of her.

God damn that shit, what happened to the days when fucking a girl used to only be about pussy? All that used to matter for Tig was a good, deep, hot, wet cockpit strong enough to give him a decent tight hole when the moment was right! And Joss had that…man oh man, did she have that! She was more than built that way, her little pink blossom was beautiful, a petite, juicy bit of sweet peach flesh, barely large enough to hold the viciousness of his big dick, but somehow it did. She was nice and tight, drawn up like a little bow mouth that was so easy to kiss, her slit easily swathed by his lips…and Jesus fucking Christ did he love that she'd shaved herself smooth for him! Now whenever he slid his hand into her jeans there was nothing but smooth, wet, white, creamy pussy eating up his fingers. Hmm…he was so fucking tired…but his dick just flinched…

Joss needed a break though, she really had been worn and wailed…he hadn't gone at it like this since he was…hmm…maybe he didn't want to really remember when that was. But he was a lot for her to take, she was so delicate, and soft…such a sweet, cute little cooch…damn, Tig's dick flinched again…this wasn't fair, he had to stop thinking about this, but he just couldn't. But he had nothing left though, the duration and the intensity, and all the emotions it all whipped wild inside of him had now laid him out…he could think it, but he couldn't do it…not for a few more hours anyway. Tig was used to having a lot of sex over a short amount of time, but he wasn't used to being in love with the girl he did it with…and that had proven to take so much more out of him…but it left him feeling ten times as satisfied…and one hundred times as hungry…as if that made any fucking sense. But it was different from being with the random other women he'd been with…the face, the legs, the twat, the tits, were always different…there wasn't even the memory of a whole woman in his head anymore, just parts of this one, part of that one, but that's all they were to him…parts. But Joss, fuck…he even knew the smell of her, and what that miniscule amount of her provoked inside him was more than Tig used to feel from a line of really good cocaine.

He'd fallen so hard for her…God fucking damn it! But how was he really not going to? She was this…total package of beauty and brains and sex and crazy that accepted him and all his kink, and would even kill for him…fuck…no wonder he'd been tearing it up so hard with her that the skin of his dick was actually raw. Shit…the baby oil helped immensely, but he could use a few good "massages" with some lotion…and with Joss, all he'd have to do was ask…she'd made it pretty clear since Friday night that she liked to touch his dick…the best feeling he'd ever awakened to was that of his dick getting stiffer and stiffer and contracting back against something warm and soft that gripped it with tender squeezes…Joss's hand, her arm over his hip and jerking him slowly and lovingly off in his sleep…which hadn't quite ended in perhaps the way she'd wanted it too, for Tig had her on her back and was nailing her really good in no time, but Joss begged and begged that she'd wanted to see him cum…which also hadn't quite ended in perhaps the way she'd wanted it to, but what man that owned a girl, that didn't love her to the very depths of passion and possession, didn't want to cum on her face, and watch it dripping from her lips and chin onto her beautiful, big, round tits? And she was so fucking beautiful like that, covered in his jizz…maybe not in a classical sense of how "beautiful" was usually thought of, but she was beautifully his; baptized in him. Plus, her little 'helping hand' she'd given him as he slept had given Tig an idea of his own…

Fair was fair, after all…and Tig had a new fixation of his own. His need for…non-responsive partners…was solaced by climbing above Joss as she slept, carefully beginning to fuck her, gently at first, warming her body up to the act itself, but increasing his force and his fervor when she began to get wet for him, playing with her clit, sucking and biting her nipples, and by the time she woke, her body more aware of what Tig was doing to it than was her drowsy mind, she'd throw herself against Tig and go at him as much as he was her, begging, ordering, pleading with him for more; the erotic dream she must have thought she was having a sudden and incredible reality that left her hungry for gratification. It was like…bringing a dead nympho back to life, and Tig not only enjoyed the physicality of it all, but also the essence of some divine power of resurrection it left him with. But then, Tig did have some kind of "power," whether it could truly be called "divine" or not he doubted, but hell…the girl came from just kissing him…that was a first! How many could claim that about their woman? And have it actually be true? Holy shit, Joss was perfect…she somehow knew how to, or was just capable of giving Tig everything he needed and wanted, before he even knew he needed it or wanted it!

But Sunday approached…just one more day…make it last, go as long and as hard as they could…shit, they were going to be out of baby oil by Monday morning! Well, there were better lubes out there, he'd tell Joss where and what, they needed to keep these things on hand…why didn't they before? Well, who knew that fucking her would ever get to be like this? Who knew he'd ever love her? Loving the girl he was fucking really did change a lot of shit…but not in the ways Tig had been dreading. Damn it…only one more day…and then it was back to the garage…where he'd have to see Ope again…by fate his closest of brothers and yet the one Tig was the least fond of…bound together and chained in the same disparaging darkness, but looking towards the same light…in love with the same woman…fuck…he and Opie were the same damn things.

Maybe that had been the other part of Opie's plan? Drive Tig insane, to some murderous rage, or maybe even into taking himself out, and then Joss was all his? Who knew, but it was clear that Ope had feelings for Joss, and why Tig didn't see it before now made him so angry and so frustrated. That night he'd pounded the great divide into Ope's face, for putting a band-aid onto Joss's finger, it had been Ope who had stood up and taken the blame when Clay had turned to Joss and demanded she testify as to what had occurred in the office. Tig knew of course, she'd told him, and he knew he had to real cause to dish out what he had to Opie, but he couldn't help it…Clay however, he may not have been able to just blow it off though, Joss knew it, so did Ope, and rather than let her loyalty to Tig, and to Clay, pull her apart, he'd spoken up. And again with the remark he'd made to her that night doctor bitch had reported all to Tig; Ope had said, "Still looking out for you," hmm…that didn't register beyond Tig's initial jealousy? Why the fuck not? And who had volunteered to watch her as she recovered from her spider monkey fit, despite how out of control and insane she'd been? Ope! And last Friday night, a lot had happened, from Ope asking about Joss, to the way he looked at that Ten Patch…didn't just hold it, but caressed it, moving his thumb gently over it as though it were Joss's pale cheek.

But out of everything, Opie not showing to receive his patches from Joss said it all. Tig had pushed him back earlier that night, told him that Joss was "his old lady" and that Ope had better "let her be his old lady." Well fuck, what better way of doing that than to not to show up? But that simple act on Opie's part, that noble and decent sacrifice, complicated the hell out of what Tig could do about this. Opie loved his Joss, and fuck him, but he was trying to be respectful of her, and even Tig himself. Shit! In a way, Joss was haunted now, and Tig with her; Opie's love for her could never be anything more than a ghost, strong enough to make its presence known, but far too weak to touch her. Tig knew that well, he'd been a ghost once himself a few years ago, lingering in some state in between heartache and bliss, that likely would have just gone on and on forever if it hadn't been for Joss herself.

Gemma…that woman used to turn Tig upside down and make him think about shit that was more than detrimental to them both. He still wasn't willing to call that "love," infatuation maybe, but "love?" He loved Joss, and now he knew what that felt like, and if he'd "loved" Gemma, well…he'd be dead right now, because there'd have been no way in hell Tig'd been able to not act on such intense and all consuming feelings for her. He'd had his chance with her once, a weak moment on Gemma's part, so shaken up and doubtful of her desirability, that she'd offered herself to the most base and pitiful of Clay's brethren…but in the end, it had been Tig who'd turned her down, his love and loyalty to Clay, and the club, stronger than what he felt for her.

Ghosts…Tig knew ghosts only did damage if they were allowed to, something had to give them the strength to squeeze into whatever crevice appeared between who they loved and who she belonged to. He wouldn't do that, he was confident of that; not just telling Joss about Opie, but also telling her that she'd done nothing to cause it, was the start of building a strong foundation between him and her that was never going to crack. Joss loved him, he had all the evidence of that he needed, and for the first time in his life, Tig had zero doubts about what he meant to someone else; Joss loved him, with all that she was. He didn't have to worry about her, and he didn't…but…Tig just couldn't live with another ghost, he had far too many now, but what could he do? There was only one thing. The same thing Clay had done. Trust his woman.

Chapter 56; Part 2

This was the first time, since Friday at the party, that Joss had clothes on! Wow…that was quite a streak…that she would have loved to have been able to be continuing now, but…well, even Tig knew that when Gemma called to invite Joss out to a late Sunday lunch, taking a raincheck wasn't an option. It had been far from what she'd planned, and ever further from what she'd wanted, despite that her body was so sore, and so was Tig's, and their sheets were a mess with sweat and semen and baby oil…at least getting out of bed had given her the opportunity to throw them in the washer, and put clean ones on the bed…that were awaiting her return from this lunch…to be christened with even more sweat, semen and baby oil…hmm, there had to be something better than that out there, Joss would stop by the drugstore on her way home; 'warming on contact' or not, some KY was definitely in order! And Tig had said something about cocoa butter too…yeah, wouldn't hurt…literally!

God did she still want her man, even though she was parking the truck now across the street from the only little café in Charming, stepping out of it and making sure she locked it as she struggled to find a comfortable, and natural way to have her purse hang from her shoulder with the literal and psychological weight of the loaded Glock G19 concealed inside it. There was no arguing with Tig about it, she was going to start carrying that gun, and Joss knew why; Opie.

"I'm not saying you're going to use it," Tig had replied as he slid her clip into it for her, the first time the two parts had connected since before she'd blown the bathroom door down and sped off to the clubhouse just over a week ago. "I'm saying you'll have it if you need to," he checked that the safety was on, then held the gun by the barrel and handed it to her, looking at her levelly. "You've got your gun, you've got your clip now too, and I won't get in your way this time."

His words had stunned her, he'd never so much as asked why'd she'd ended up at the clubhouse that night, and Joss, not wanting to revisit that turmoil, had kept her mouth closed. Yes, of course, she was going to tell him one day…but she was waiting for the right time…that had apparently come and gone already. "So you know?"

Tig took both of her shoulders in his hands and looked at her, but it was as if that wasn't enough contact, and his hand soon rested against her face, his thumb smoothing over her cheek, and then finally he pulled her against him, hugging her tightly in a way so familiar now. "I know what you mean to me, and what I mean to you, baby. And that's enough."

And it must have been, because he was far too calm and calculating about this Opie thing. It was making Joss feel badly for not having told Tig about all of Opie's antics before, she'd underestimated her man, thought him too mentally…fragile…yes, fragile…it was an ugly and horrible thing to realize now, but it was true…she'd thought Tig too mentally fragile to know what Opie had been up to with the band-aid, the chest tap, the crackers. But obviously, Tig could handle it; because he was handling it…what did he know that she didn't?

Well, she had to stop thinking about this now…it wasn't something she really wanted to be discussing with Gemma just yet…maybe one day, but right now? No. Poor Opie…he wasn't a bad guy; he'd always been nice to her, even when she hated him for being so. But he was kind and considerate to her; there was nothing that could have removed him from her side last Friday night when she'd awakened from her foggy sleep…she knew it was wrong then, but he'd held her hand, caressed her face and head in his big hand, and promised her, "you're going to be alright." Whatever the fallout from this was, Joss hoped it wouldn't be anything brutal…but at the same time, this couldn't continue.

Her hand was on the door pull of the quaint little gourmet sandwich shop now, okay, stop thinking about it, don't worry about it, Tig knew, he knew everything, and she was confident he'd handle it, or at least, tell her how to.

"Oh my God," Joss heard Gemma before she even saw her, and she was standing there by a table with Abel in his carrier, hanging from both her arms. Well, it looked like Jax and Tara were having some alone time today…shit…Joss wanted to get back to her alone time too…even if it was making her walk funny now…Tig, she loved him so God damn much, and that love needed to be fed…with lots and lots and lots of orgasms, or so it seemed…shit, now she was smiling, and blushing…Gemma was going to know exactly what she'd interrupted! "Look at you!" She was exclaiming now, taking Joss in as she leaned over her and surveyed everything about her…yeah…damn it…Gemma must have been able to read minds! "You have got Tigger's little sucker marks all over your neck! Did you even look in the mirror before you left the house?"

Hmm…maybe Gemma's skills were a bit more general than reading minds? "Well," Joss stammered. "I didn't exactly have a lot of time to get ready, so I guess I didn—"

Gemma started laughing. "No, I guess you didn't," she said, smirking with one eyebrow raised. "I can see how Tigger's a tall order to fill, his needs likely aren't that generic, or that easily put to bed." She said, and then upon realizing her choice of words, began to snicker all over again.

Well, there wasn't any sense in denying it, was there? It was all over her…in so many ways…Oh God, please don't let there be cum in her hair or something too! Now Joss was laughing, which really was relaxing, and soon thoughts of Opie were gone from her mind. She nodded her head at Gemma. "It's been a pretty good weekend." She admitted.

"Bet you're hungry," Gemma smiled, and Joss began to realize she was, starving…poor Tig…he was likely hungry too, and the only thing he really knew how to make was cereal…and those canned raviolis…which he ate cold…as long as it was a pull top can, and not one requiring him to get the little hand cranked can opener…which he'd have to fidget with, curse at and finally banish outside into the back yard…some day, years from now, after the house was rubble, there'd likely be some troop of Boy Scouts out for a hike and come across a big pile of old can openers in the woods. Ha! Joss was laughing again…Tig, he was so funny…fuck…she really wanted to get back to him! The sound of Gemma speaking pulled her out of her Tig thoughts…though she really wanted to stay there within them…"So, I called and got a table…" Gemma said, then slowly stepped out of the way with the baby, and as she did, Joss's heart flew into her throat and she stood there staring, happy, excited and worried. There sat Tara, who looked back at Joss, wearing the same distressed expression, and she shrugged her shoulders; obviously, Tara had gotten an invitation to a late Sunday lunch as well. "A table for two," Gemma continued then sighed, ignoring both the girl's shocked and duped expressions. "Abel and I are going to go and see if Harley makes boots in his size!"