The Return: Chapter 18/?
Title: The Return (18/?)
Author: Threeb_1973
Rating: M for mature subject matter
Character/Pairings: Sam/Tara
Summary: After an absence of over a year, Tara returns to Bon Temps with her infant daughter.
Disclaimer: True Blood is the property of Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris. I make no money from this.
Warning: Please note the rating change for this chapter
Authors Note: I’d like to thank the very talented fatjan22 for co-writing this chapter, and Phoebe-Ann Edwards for the beta. Both of y’all are huge freaks but I like your work ;-)
Chapter Eighteen: I’m Going Home
Ten days after his relapse, Sam, Tara, and Maya were all in the kitchen. As Sam fed Maya strained chicken and carrots, he fought back feelings of guilt. He had been so excited about living with his family that he’d never considered how much extra work his being there caused. The sooner he went home, the better. Unfortunately he didn’t want to leave. Sam knew he was being selfish and that he’d have to do this quickly.
“I see the doctor tomorrow,” he announced.
Tara looked up from chopping vegetables, stunned. She had gone with Sam to every one of his appointments; why hadn’t he mentioned this one?
“What time do you see her? I can skip lunch and…”
“Don’t bother, I’ll get a taxi.”
“A taxi? There’s no need for that; it would be easier for me to drive you.”
“Easier for who?” Sam countered. “Look Tara, I appreciate everything you’ve done but there’s no need for you to wait on me hand and foot.”
“Okay,” she said, hurt. Sam had been acting distant and weird lately. Yesterday when she tried to help him wash his hair he’d snarled her out of the bathroom, insisting that he didn’t need to be coddled.
“Hopefully the doctor’ll let me out of this sling and I can finally go home,” he said, feeding Maya another spoon full of chicken.
So that was it, then. Sam felt smothered and wanted his space. Well she’d let him have it.
“Fine. I’ll give you my spare key so you can lock up.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, disappointed that she hadn’t made even a token protest. He resumed feeding Maya, his worst fear confirmed. He’d become a burden, and Tara wanted him out of her house.
The next day Dr. Qureshi did indeed tell Sam that he could remove his sling.
“But you still need to take it easy,” she warned. “Your ribs won’t be completely healed for another couple of months.”
Sam thanked her and caught a cab back to Tara’s apartment. He packed his things and loaded them into his truck. Next he dialed her cell; it would be easier for him to do this over the phone.
Tara saw the call from Sam and immediately answered. “Hey! What did the doctor say?”
“I’m out of the sling and she cleared me for light duties.”
“That’s great!”
“Yep. I’ve packed my stuff and I’m on my way to the trailer right now.”
“Oh.”
I’ll bring your key back this weekend and pick up anything I might’ve forgotten.”
“Well shit,” Tara thought. She had hoped that Sam would at least stay for dinner. He must have wanted out more than she realized. Well if he could be cold then so could she.
“Fine; see you then,” Tara said brusquely and hung up. She looked around the library and, not seeing any patrons, hurried to the ladies room. She wanted to cry in private.
Sam held the phone to his ear for a long moment before finally putting it away. Tara’s tone of voice had convinced him that he’d made the right decision. Miserable, he took a final look around her apartment before locking up and heading to his truck.
When Sam arrived at his trailer he sat for a few minutes, trying to psych himself up enough to go inside. He couldn’t do it. So leaving his things in the truck, Sam entered the restaurant instead. He was greeted by a chorus of cheers and ‘welcome backs.’
“Good to see you brother,” Terry said, giving him a hug. “I’m surprised Tara let you return to work so soon.”
“That’s my decision, not hers,” Sam snapped, irritated. He turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving a group of stunned employees in his wake.
When Sam entered his office, he barely recognized it. Arlene had cleaned and reorganized everything. None of his files were on his desk. How the hell was he supposed to find anything?
“Arlene!” he shouted.
She came scurrying in. “Yeah Sam?”
“Where are my files? I can’t find a goddamn thing in here!”
Arlene sat him at his desk and explained her color-coded filing system. He had to admit that it was much better than shuffling through stacks of loose papers, which had been his usual way of doing things. Grudgingly, he thanked her and began reviewing the last three weeks of paperwork.
When Lafayette arrived for his shift that evening, Sam’s mood hadn’t improved.
“Sound like bossman on the warpath,” he said to Arlene as they listened to Sam chew out one of the busboys for not working fast enough.
“He’s been like this all day,” Arlene said. “He practically tore my head off for straightening up his office. I swear that man is moodier than a pregnant woman. Good luck dealing with him tonight.”
Lafayette chuckled. “I got this.”
Just then Sam stormed past. “I don’t pay y’all to stand around talking; this ain’t a social club,” he snarled. “Either get to work or go home!”
“Have fun,” Arlene said as she left. Lafayette just shook his head. He knew something had happened between Sam and Tara; that’s what this was all about.
A couple of hours later Lafayette heard noises in the store room and went to check it out. He watched as Sam angrily stacked boxes.
“Don’t you think you oughtta take it easy?” Lafayette asked.
“Don’t you think you oughtta mind your own business?”
Lafayette leaned against the doorjamb and decided to get to the heart of the matter. “You know Tara would kick yo’ ass if she saw you.”
Sam scoffed. “Oh please; if anything she’s glad to be rid of me.”
“The hell she is,” Lafayette said, surprised. “Are we talking about the same woman that I spent my entire lunch hour on the phone with today, trying to console after a certain ungrateful muthafucka packed his shit and took off without so much as a by your leave?”
Sam froze in place and stared at Lafayette. “What?”
“You hurt her, man. She said you been in a shitty mood since the night she had to rush you back to the doctor. But for the life of her she can’t figure out why.” Lafayette gave Sam a questioning look. “Just what the hell is yo’ problem?”
“I thought I had overstayed my welcome. Tara has so much on her plate I figured she was was tired of me being there.”
“Did she ever say that?”
“No.”
“So you didn’t try to talk to her about it. You just assumed that she wanted you to leave.”
“She never asked me to stay!” Sam said in his own defense.
“If you treated her the way you been treatin’ folks around here today, I don’t blame her.”
Sam stared at the floor. “I’m a fool,” he said finally. He raised his eyes to meet Lafayette’s. “I guess I owe Tara an apology; do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“Don’t ask me, ask her.”
The kitchen bell rang, indicating an incoming order.
“Gotta go,” Lafayette said, rushing back to the grill. He was joined by Sam a few moments later.
“Lafayette, I’m going home. Would you mind closing for me?”
“No problem, bossman. Go take care of yo’ business.”
Tara sat on the couch, lost in thought. She’d already put Maya to bed and taken her own shower, but sleep eluded her. So she sat, alone, trying to make sense of the last week and a half. Maybe she had been wrong in bringing Sam home with her after his injury. Tara quickly rejected that thought. He had been fine up until the night she’d taken him back to the doctor. But what had changed?
“That was the night I realized I was in love with him,” she thought ruefully. Maybe Sam had sensed her feelings and pulled away. Tara shook her head, convinced she was right about her 100% failure rate when it came to relationships. She had hoped things would work out differently with Sam, but apparently that wasn’t to be the case. Tara sighed heavily and rose for bed; there was a meeting at work tomorrow and she needed her rest. She was startled by the sound of the front door unlocking.
“Sam?” She said, surprised. He was the last person she expected to see. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I mean no. I mean I owe you an apology for acting so stupid the last few days,” Sam realized he was babbling and sighed. “I guess what I'm trying to say is...”
Tara went to him and placed two fingers over his lips. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she made her feelings known. “I love you, Sam,” she whispered. Standing on tiptoe, she touched her lips to his.
Sam eagerly returned the kiss before pulling back.
“I love you too. God, I’ve wanted to say that for so long, but I was afraid that I’d scare you away,” he whispered against her hair.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“”I love you so much,” Sam said, brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead. “I need you so much.”
Wordlessly, Tara took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom. Standing next to the bed, she began to undress him, unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off.
Heart pounding, excitement climbing, Sam looked deeply into her eyes. It had been a long time since their last sexual encounter: sixteen months, two weeks and four days to be exact. But who was counting?
As he stood before her sans shirt, Tara admired Sam’s lean, muscled torso. Most of his bruises were healed, but she could still see an ugly green mark along his left flank.
“Sam, your ribs...” she said, her brows knitted with concern.
“I’m fine,” he lied giving her a warm smile, hoping to ease her anxiety.
Not totally convinced, Tara gently traced a finger along the outline of the bruise, carefully watching his face for any sign of pain. Then, just as gently, she bent and kissed him there. Feeling her soft cool lips upon his hot skin, he gasped. He'd longed for this moment. She flinched when she heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” He gave her an imploring look. “Don't stop.”
Smiling, she eased him onto the bed and knelt down to remove his boots and socks. Next, she unfastened his belt buckle and jeans. Not taking his eyes off her, Sam raised his hips and allowed her to divest him of jeans and boxers in one deft move. Fully erect, his member sprang forward and bounced at its base, pointing skyward. Watching him, the ache between her legs rose close to being unbearable. Tara quickly removed her own T-shirt and panties and stood before him, naked.
Sam stared, totally transfixed. Childbirth had changed her body; her breasts were fuller, her hips wider and rounder. “God you’re beautiful,” he breathed.
Reaching out, he took her hand and gently pulled her to him. Slowly she swung her leg over his thighs and sat on his lap. Leaning in, his mouth lightly grazed her earlobe before trailing a series of slow, shivery kisses down her neck and then to her shoulders. She moaned when his lips captured one dark nipple and suckled it.
Carefully easing him back against the headboard whilst remaining mindful of his injured ribs, she leaned forward and gave him a blistering kiss, her tongue sending currents of desire to every nerve ending in his body. Sam could feel her damp center pressed against his thigh and it was nearly too much for him to bear.
Gazing into her eyes, he whispered, “I want to make love to you.”
With one hand, he steadied his throbbing manhood, situating its thick head between her moist quivering folds. Placing a hand on either of her hips, he held her firmly then slowly pulled her down until he was completely embedded within her warm softness. Tara whimpered as her body stretched to accommodate his girth. Finally they both sighed inwardly. They'd forgotten how good it felt when they last made love to one another nearly a year and a half ago, the night Maya had been conceived.
Sheathed in Tara’s slick heat, Sam gingerly moved under her as she rode him slowly, softly murmuring his name over and over. She made love to him as though she were afraid he might break, her pace almost tortuously slow. Disregarding his injury and tossing all common sense to the wayside, he grabbed her hips and thrust upward, hard and deep. Sam groaned aloud, half in pleasure, half in agony. He considered flipping her onto her back and speeding things up, but part of him wanted to savor every delicious stroke. He willed himself to last just a bit longer.
Unable to hold back any longer, Tara moaned and ground against him harder and with greater urgency, gripping the headboard for balance. Suddenly she clenched around him, crying out as she reached her peak. The sensation was enough to bring Sam to his own climax and he came with a low growl. Tara collapsed against his chest, thoroughly satiated. Enjoying the closeness, they fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms.
**********
Author: Threeb_1973
Rating: M for mature subject matter
Character/Pairings: Sam/Tara
Summary: After an absence of over a year, Tara returns to Bon Temps with her infant daughter.
Disclaimer: True Blood is the property of Alan Ball and Charlaine Harris. I make no money from this.
Warning: Please note the rating change for this chapter
Authors Note: I’d like to thank the very talented fatjan22 for co-writing this chapter, and Phoebe-Ann Edwards for the beta. Both of y’all are huge freaks but I like your work ;-)
Chapter Eighteen: I’m Going Home
Ten days after his relapse, Sam, Tara, and Maya were all in the kitchen. As Sam fed Maya strained chicken and carrots, he fought back feelings of guilt. He had been so excited about living with his family that he’d never considered how much extra work his being there caused. The sooner he went home, the better. Unfortunately he didn’t want to leave. Sam knew he was being selfish and that he’d have to do this quickly.
“I see the doctor tomorrow,” he announced.
Tara looked up from chopping vegetables, stunned. She had gone with Sam to every one of his appointments; why hadn’t he mentioned this one?
“What time do you see her? I can skip lunch and…”
“Don’t bother, I’ll get a taxi.”
“A taxi? There’s no need for that; it would be easier for me to drive you.”
“Easier for who?” Sam countered. “Look Tara, I appreciate everything you’ve done but there’s no need for you to wait on me hand and foot.”
“Okay,” she said, hurt. Sam had been acting distant and weird lately. Yesterday when she tried to help him wash his hair he’d snarled her out of the bathroom, insisting that he didn’t need to be coddled.
“Hopefully the doctor’ll let me out of this sling and I can finally go home,” he said, feeding Maya another spoon full of chicken.
So that was it, then. Sam felt smothered and wanted his space. Well she’d let him have it.
“Fine. I’ll give you my spare key so you can lock up.”
“Thanks,” Sam said, disappointed that she hadn’t made even a token protest. He resumed feeding Maya, his worst fear confirmed. He’d become a burden, and Tara wanted him out of her house.
The next day Dr. Qureshi did indeed tell Sam that he could remove his sling.
“But you still need to take it easy,” she warned. “Your ribs won’t be completely healed for another couple of months.”
Sam thanked her and caught a cab back to Tara’s apartment. He packed his things and loaded them into his truck. Next he dialed her cell; it would be easier for him to do this over the phone.
Tara saw the call from Sam and immediately answered. “Hey! What did the doctor say?”
“I’m out of the sling and she cleared me for light duties.”
“That’s great!”
“Yep. I’ve packed my stuff and I’m on my way to the trailer right now.”
“Oh.”
I’ll bring your key back this weekend and pick up anything I might’ve forgotten.”
“Well shit,” Tara thought. She had hoped that Sam would at least stay for dinner. He must have wanted out more than she realized. Well if he could be cold then so could she.
“Fine; see you then,” Tara said brusquely and hung up. She looked around the library and, not seeing any patrons, hurried to the ladies room. She wanted to cry in private.
Sam held the phone to his ear for a long moment before finally putting it away. Tara’s tone of voice had convinced him that he’d made the right decision. Miserable, he took a final look around her apartment before locking up and heading to his truck.
When Sam arrived at his trailer he sat for a few minutes, trying to psych himself up enough to go inside. He couldn’t do it. So leaving his things in the truck, Sam entered the restaurant instead. He was greeted by a chorus of cheers and ‘welcome backs.’
“Good to see you brother,” Terry said, giving him a hug. “I’m surprised Tara let you return to work so soon.”
“That’s my decision, not hers,” Sam snapped, irritated. He turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving a group of stunned employees in his wake.
When Sam entered his office, he barely recognized it. Arlene had cleaned and reorganized everything. None of his files were on his desk. How the hell was he supposed to find anything?
“Arlene!” he shouted.
She came scurrying in. “Yeah Sam?”
“Where are my files? I can’t find a goddamn thing in here!”
Arlene sat him at his desk and explained her color-coded filing system. He had to admit that it was much better than shuffling through stacks of loose papers, which had been his usual way of doing things. Grudgingly, he thanked her and began reviewing the last three weeks of paperwork.
When Lafayette arrived for his shift that evening, Sam’s mood hadn’t improved.
“Sound like bossman on the warpath,” he said to Arlene as they listened to Sam chew out one of the busboys for not working fast enough.
“He’s been like this all day,” Arlene said. “He practically tore my head off for straightening up his office. I swear that man is moodier than a pregnant woman. Good luck dealing with him tonight.”
Lafayette chuckled. “I got this.”
Just then Sam stormed past. “I don’t pay y’all to stand around talking; this ain’t a social club,” he snarled. “Either get to work or go home!”
“Have fun,” Arlene said as she left. Lafayette just shook his head. He knew something had happened between Sam and Tara; that’s what this was all about.
A couple of hours later Lafayette heard noises in the store room and went to check it out. He watched as Sam angrily stacked boxes.
“Don’t you think you oughtta take it easy?” Lafayette asked.
“Don’t you think you oughtta mind your own business?”
Lafayette leaned against the doorjamb and decided to get to the heart of the matter. “You know Tara would kick yo’ ass if she saw you.”
Sam scoffed. “Oh please; if anything she’s glad to be rid of me.”
“The hell she is,” Lafayette said, surprised. “Are we talking about the same woman that I spent my entire lunch hour on the phone with today, trying to console after a certain ungrateful muthafucka packed his shit and took off without so much as a by your leave?”
Sam froze in place and stared at Lafayette. “What?”
“You hurt her, man. She said you been in a shitty mood since the night she had to rush you back to the doctor. But for the life of her she can’t figure out why.” Lafayette gave Sam a questioning look. “Just what the hell is yo’ problem?”
“I thought I had overstayed my welcome. Tara has so much on her plate I figured she was was tired of me being there.”
“Did she ever say that?”
“No.”
“So you didn’t try to talk to her about it. You just assumed that she wanted you to leave.”
“She never asked me to stay!” Sam said in his own defense.
“If you treated her the way you been treatin’ folks around here today, I don’t blame her.”
Sam stared at the floor. “I’m a fool,” he said finally. He raised his eyes to meet Lafayette’s. “I guess I owe Tara an apology; do you think she’ll forgive me?”
“Don’t ask me, ask her.”
The kitchen bell rang, indicating an incoming order.
“Gotta go,” Lafayette said, rushing back to the grill. He was joined by Sam a few moments later.
“Lafayette, I’m going home. Would you mind closing for me?”
“No problem, bossman. Go take care of yo’ business.”
Tara sat on the couch, lost in thought. She’d already put Maya to bed and taken her own shower, but sleep eluded her. So she sat, alone, trying to make sense of the last week and a half. Maybe she had been wrong in bringing Sam home with her after his injury. Tara quickly rejected that thought. He had been fine up until the night she’d taken him back to the doctor. But what had changed?
“That was the night I realized I was in love with him,” she thought ruefully. Maybe Sam had sensed her feelings and pulled away. Tara shook her head, convinced she was right about her 100% failure rate when it came to relationships. She had hoped things would work out differently with Sam, but apparently that wasn’t to be the case. Tara sighed heavily and rose for bed; there was a meeting at work tomorrow and she needed her rest. She was startled by the sound of the front door unlocking.
“Sam?” She said, surprised. He was the last person she expected to see. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I mean no. I mean I owe you an apology for acting so stupid the last few days,” Sam realized he was babbling and sighed. “I guess what I'm trying to say is...”
Tara went to him and placed two fingers over his lips. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, she made her feelings known. “I love you, Sam,” she whispered. Standing on tiptoe, she touched her lips to his.
Sam eagerly returned the kiss before pulling back.
“I love you too. God, I’ve wanted to say that for so long, but I was afraid that I’d scare you away,” he whispered against her hair.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
“”I love you so much,” Sam said, brushing a gentle kiss across her forehead. “I need you so much.”
Wordlessly, Tara took his hand and led him down the hall to the bedroom. Standing next to the bed, she began to undress him, unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off.
Heart pounding, excitement climbing, Sam looked deeply into her eyes. It had been a long time since their last sexual encounter: sixteen months, two weeks and four days to be exact. But who was counting?
As he stood before her sans shirt, Tara admired Sam’s lean, muscled torso. Most of his bruises were healed, but she could still see an ugly green mark along his left flank.
“Sam, your ribs...” she said, her brows knitted with concern.
“I’m fine,” he lied giving her a warm smile, hoping to ease her anxiety.
Not totally convinced, Tara gently traced a finger along the outline of the bruise, carefully watching his face for any sign of pain. Then, just as gently, she bent and kissed him there. Feeling her soft cool lips upon his hot skin, he gasped. He'd longed for this moment. She flinched when she heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.” He gave her an imploring look. “Don't stop.”
Smiling, she eased him onto the bed and knelt down to remove his boots and socks. Next, she unfastened his belt buckle and jeans. Not taking his eyes off her, Sam raised his hips and allowed her to divest him of jeans and boxers in one deft move. Fully erect, his member sprang forward and bounced at its base, pointing skyward. Watching him, the ache between her legs rose close to being unbearable. Tara quickly removed her own T-shirt and panties and stood before him, naked.
Sam stared, totally transfixed. Childbirth had changed her body; her breasts were fuller, her hips wider and rounder. “God you’re beautiful,” he breathed.
Reaching out, he took her hand and gently pulled her to him. Slowly she swung her leg over his thighs and sat on his lap. Leaning in, his mouth lightly grazed her earlobe before trailing a series of slow, shivery kisses down her neck and then to her shoulders. She moaned when his lips captured one dark nipple and suckled it.
Carefully easing him back against the headboard whilst remaining mindful of his injured ribs, she leaned forward and gave him a blistering kiss, her tongue sending currents of desire to every nerve ending in his body. Sam could feel her damp center pressed against his thigh and it was nearly too much for him to bear.
Gazing into her eyes, he whispered, “I want to make love to you.”
With one hand, he steadied his throbbing manhood, situating its thick head between her moist quivering folds. Placing a hand on either of her hips, he held her firmly then slowly pulled her down until he was completely embedded within her warm softness. Tara whimpered as her body stretched to accommodate his girth. Finally they both sighed inwardly. They'd forgotten how good it felt when they last made love to one another nearly a year and a half ago, the night Maya had been conceived.
Sheathed in Tara’s slick heat, Sam gingerly moved under her as she rode him slowly, softly murmuring his name over and over. She made love to him as though she were afraid he might break, her pace almost tortuously slow. Disregarding his injury and tossing all common sense to the wayside, he grabbed her hips and thrust upward, hard and deep. Sam groaned aloud, half in pleasure, half in agony. He considered flipping her onto her back and speeding things up, but part of him wanted to savor every delicious stroke. He willed himself to last just a bit longer.
Unable to hold back any longer, Tara moaned and ground against him harder and with greater urgency, gripping the headboard for balance. Suddenly she clenched around him, crying out as she reached her peak. The sensation was enough to bring Sam to his own climax and he came with a low growl. Tara collapsed against his chest, thoroughly satiated. Enjoying the closeness, they fell asleep entwined in each other’s arms.
**********