Guts Over Fear

Hope

I found love where it wasn't supposed to be; right in front on me.

Clays eyes skimmed her body up and down. She was forbidden fruit, that he knew. But he couldn't stop the inevitable pull the two had. It was as if the earth's magnetic pull was working for only them, the two being pulled together.
Gemma let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding as Clay closed the small space between the two. His palm resting on her hip while the other cupped her jaw bone.
"Make me feel something." She repeated again, her eyes closed, her spirits broken. This time was much more sincere.
Clay pulled her chin up, "open your eyes, Gem." And she did. His pools of crystal met hers. He searched her through those eyes, read her like an open book, and for a beat longer he waited until he knew this was exactly what she wanted. But it wasn't, it was what she needed.
Carefully, he chastely kissed her lips. A slow pull back from her, he realized he needed this too.
The biker lunged forward and took her mouth viciously. His tongue punching against her lips, begging for entry.
Of course she surrendered. The matriarch wasn't going to fight for dominance this time, no.
Clay's hand circled around and cupped the small of her back bringing her even closer, which he didn't think was possible. Her bare skin was flush and hot to the touch.
Gemma's shaking hands grasped his kutte and hastily pulled it off. Right as she worked at his belt, Clay pushed her on to the bed that was right behind her knees. Breathlessly, already, she clawed at his shoulders. Anything to get him closer, anything to close that space that the world did not want between them.
"Goddamn, Gem." He growled and climbed up her body on the bed. Her body aligned perfectly with his, this made him smile. Grasping her thigh, he commanded her to wrap it around his back.
Slowly, but deliciously, he sunk into her. Gem arched her hips instinctively and bit the bottom lip he was going for.
There was nothing romantic about any of this. She begged him to make he feel, so he did. With every thrust she moaned, with ever unexpected movement she stifled a scream that could wake Jax, and even then she wouldn't care. Clay nipped at her bottom lip then ran his hot tongue along her jaw line. Her breathing became more of a staccato sound. He peppered small kisses along her neck until he found that spot where she placed a dab of perfume, and sucked. He was going to mark her, and she didn't care.
She was feeling now, and it felt good, right, this all felt right. Something so bad as fucking your husbands best friend on the same day as your sons funeral felt right.
Gemma felt herself tightening around him. The two knew they were very close. Gem took a breath and squeezed his shoulder riding out her orgasm with clenched teeth and eyes while clay continued to pump in and out with delicate speed. So. Fucking. Right.
And then he collapsed on her, careful, and satisfied; Gemma too.
She traced small, lazy circles on his shoulder blades until their breathing matched. Calm, collected. She could feel something. This she knew was love.
Isn't it crazy to declare you love someone after sex? But that wasn't when she knew she loved him, the two had already made that clear. She just knew, now, that she could see a brighter future with him. As the seconds withered away she found herself thinking more intently about that future... And how John didn't even Exsist in it.
...............................

Weeks passed by dragging each day out longer and longer. John hadn't made any attempts to show his face around home, TM, or the club house.
Jackson constantly questioned about where his father was and why Clay was hanging around the house so much.
It became more of a hassle than anything to think up an excuse.
But as they days faded Gemma noted her son became more and more keen of Clay. Small banter back in forth became long heart felt conversations.
One morning Gemma stopped mid-step on the way to the kitchen when she heard Jax call Clay "Old man" but it wasn't just a term thrown around by the bikers, that term meant father or husband, or significant other. Whether he meant it or not, she wasn't sure. Maybe he was just making fun of him, but her heart fluttered and for once she felt things were starting to work out; the ship was righting itself. Tomorrow was indeed kinder.

      "Gem?" Clay stepped into the office at TM searching for the brunette.
"Yeah?" She stood abruptly from her previous kneeling position. "Papers flew everywhere... If that door is open," she pointed "that door needs to stay shut!" Her nerves were getting the best of her, that was evident.
"Alright, baby, calm it down." He took a step closer, hoping to touch her, to calm her. Gem took a step back as he took the step forward.
"Woah, what's wrong?" His brows furrowed and he pulled his sunglasses off and placed them on his head.
"John called... He's coming home."
She knew she should be somewhat thrilled, if not for herself for Jackson.
"Oh."
Word had started to spread like wildfire, but not one person breathed a sound in her direction. Gemma Teller had found out on her own. And with that information her and JT's relationship sunk to the bottom of their affairs.
Clay and Gemma had been recently becoming more open about their relationship. Perhaps she just didn't care anymore. If everyone knew of JT's where about's, what, and who he was doing surely she had the right to carry on her affair just as openly.
Just as long as Jax was kept in the dark. That's all she wanted. Her son could hate him all he wanted, but knowing that bit of truth couldn't happen right now.
There was never really a time when she sat down and weighed in her options. To her there wasn't an option, rather an opportunity. A new beginning. Clay was her new beginning. A chance to be loved again. A chance to remain Queen. Thoughts poured in obnoxiously all at once over what she should do to make this her reality. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about it before. When the word of Johns mistress surfaced, that was when she'd first thought about it.
Now was time for a new beginning; a new hope.
It was then she plotted
The good old King must die.