It started out innocently enough.
Jack just called to say that the team was getting together for a drink and movie at his house. Innocent right?
How many times have we done this innocent get together. Five, eleven, a hundred times, I really couldn't remember.
I could only remember the highlights. The first one was when his fishing trip got cancelled. Feeling disappointed, he called me up, and said to come over for some get together. I fidgeted with the phone, thinking if it was a good idea to fraternize with my Commanding Officer. And perhaps sensing the awkward beat, he immediately added that Daniel was coming too.
The minute he opened his door, I almost swooned, seeing him out of his military uniform. He was casually dressed in a gray cotton shirt and cargo shorts. The damn shirt fit him so well, specially around the chest. Soft fabric on hard muscles, I remembered thinking. I must've stared at his chest too long because when I drew my gaze to his face, he was blushing. Cute. A Colonel was never supposed to blush. I realized then that I might be in big trouble.
His arms were another story. They were just the kind that I would want to have wrapped around me (while I was naked- yes I'm a woman, too). His arms were solid, lean, tan and a tad hairy. When he handed me a beer, my hands were a little shaky. Then I noticed his feet. I should've gotten turned off. But.. well, I just thought his ugly feet were sexy. And then I found out he could cook and was great at it, too.
The rest of the day I flirted with Daniel to get my mind off him, and to stop him from getting any ideas. At least Daniel was safe. The Colonel was – dangerous.
The other get-together, was, to put it mildly, off the charts. No, nothing happened. But given the things that we were allowed to do, I considered what happened illicit. We exchanged glances the whole night. And I'm not talking about innocent glances. But the long, lingering, forbidden glances.
Of course I could easily write that off as nothing. What's in a glance anyway? But you'd know what I mean if you were at the receiving end of that glance. First of all, it was longer than a glance, though yes, a little more subtle than a gaze. But it was enough to make my knees weak. I had to keep excusing myself so I could get a breath of air. He sensed my discomfort but he kept staring as if he couldn't cut that invisible string that kept pulling us together.
As I went home, I did a mental tally, and came up with 8 forbidden glances, 6 of which I looked away first. I couldn't win it. He was better at it; quite adept actually. Throwing me a honey-thick stare while drinking his beer, or while I was talking about something so unsexy like stabilizing a wormhole. I won only 2 by using techniques which involved finger dipping in mouth, and opening a button of my blouse.
That was the first time it dawned on me that my attraction for him was getting stronger. And that I wasn't alone in that feeling.
After that night, we got a little awkward around each other. But we learned how to deal with it quickly. We were forced to, given the working relationship we had. And we were good at pretending. Very good. We became very skilled at looking past the attraction so we could work efficiently and carry out our tasks.
There were times that he'd slip, or I would. He or I would throw innuendos at each other, or exchange meaningful smiles, grins, stares. But these instances were very few and far between. And the one time that we actually gave in to our hidden desires, we both were not thinking straight. Thank God I also couldn't remember much of what happened because we were afflicted with a virus.
Then the whole damn Zatarc incident happened. I avoided those silly get-togethers once and for all.
Time passed. We grew to be more than colleagues. We became sort of friends. We moved past the awkwardness, and slowly slid into some comfortable zone where we could freely be in each other's company without having to think of something special to do together. We could endure long silences, long meetings overnight, long walks offworld. We had lots of things to talk about, agree on, disagree on. So much was happening in the galaxy, several threats have arisen, and we were too consumed by them to think of each other. And he was always there. There was really no reason to think about him that much if I was with him always.
When we had moved on from the juvenile flirtations, I almost felt like my attraction to him had plateaud. Or perhaps there were just a lot of things happening in the universe and in the SGC that my desire for him had somehow been overshadowed. It was my mistake to think so.
It was a mistake that I lowered my defenses.
He called up one rainy night and I easily said yes, I would come over, even if it was going to be just us two, sharing our thoughts over beer. I mistook the tone in his voice as longing for companionship. I realized my mistake only when I was already standing at his door. His eyes were a dark chocolate that had me swirling with desire. He didn't say anything. He just stood there looking at me with his unshaven face.
I hated him for assuming that I understood why he asked me to come. I hated appearing so weak, for caving in with just a phone call. I brushed off that overwhelming lust between us by walking with my chin up, babbling about P3R 118 or the ice planet where I became Thera and he Jona.
He followed me to the hallway, his dead silence sending heat waves on my back.
The next thing I felt was his hand on my shoulder. He spun me around so gently, so lightly, I could've easily stayed planted on the floor. But I was weakened with his touch that I turned around and faced him.
The very first time I felt his lips on mine, my heart broke. I realized that kiss was only meant to wound us even more.
The deeper we kissed, the deeper I downspiralled in a feeling of depression. I wanted to have him not just for that moment. Perhaps he felt it too when he started moaning my name in my mouth in a kind of fevered desperation.
Perhaps we both realized that whatever we did that night, it wouldn't come close to fulfilling our aching need. Whatever we did was going to be pointless. But what did we have to lose? He had me pinned against the wall, his lips moving towards my throat, his hands unbuttoning my blouse, when we heard his doorbell ring.
He drew himself away and gave me a started look as if he just regretted what he did. We took a moment to regain our normal breathing before he left me and pivoted on his heel to open the door.
I silently thanked Daniel and Teal'c for showing up that night.
We never brought that incident up. It's as if it never happened. Sometimes I thought I've convinced myself it was one of those dreams I've had of him and me, or perhaps a remnant of what could've happened when we were on the ice planet.
Though it was very brief, the taste of what it would be like to actually have him had altered my attraction into full-blown lust. Needless to say, we were back once again to awkwardness and evasions.
There were those rare times when we would give in to our momentary weaknesses and - hug. Yes hug. That was all. Comrades weren't supposed to hug. But having been through a lot and with the possibility of death always looming above our heads, we silently connived that a hug was permissible.
But despite - or because of - those hugs, I felt myself falling deeper into a quagmire of pain and longing and desire for a man that was unattainable.
I finally admitted to myself that I was very much in love with him. It sounded crazy whenever I said it to myself while I was alone. Crazier when he was with me. Never in my life did I want someone so badly. Why couldn't I choose those who were readily available. Why not Daniel who's so sweet and caring and, well, yes he was like a brother to me. But why'd it have to be Jack O'Neill.
I accepted the fact that I was in deep shit over somebody I could never have. The sooner I accepted, the sooner I would move on, I told myself. When I came to from being stuck in a nebula, I vowed to move on.
And I did.
When he called up again, to ask me to come over, I easily said yes. It was supposed to be a fun get together, to celebrate his promotion. And I was sure of myself, quite confident because at that time my needs as a woman were being fulfilled.
It was supposed to be and innocent get together.
And I didn't know how I ended up on his bed, clutching his head that's buried between my legs. I just knew I was drunk.
"Shit," I moaned as his tongue lapped at me. Yes lapped. It was so wrong. But.. (he began to circle my clit with the tip of his tongue).. oh so fucking right.
I clutched at his hair not caring if it hurt him. It was already wrong. It couldn't get any more wrong than it was.
I shut my eyes as I began to feel my muscles tighten and my legs vibrate. Thank God it was dark he couldn't see me arch my back. Never mind that he could hear me curse.
The waves of pleasure began to subside when I felt him move up on top of me. He showered my face with light feathery kisses. I became aware that I was totally naked, while he was fully-clothed. My head began to ache as I tried to remember how the hell that happened. I fell asleep with my mind whirling.
I must've slept for an hour because when I woke up it was still dark. I stretched my arm out to find the other side of the bed empty. The sheets have been wrapped around me. He tucked me in. Great. That was definitely bad, a General tucking in a Major.
I walked out of the room wearing the sheets. The rest of my clothes must be outside somewhere. I couldn't for the life of me recall the sequence of events. I went to the living room and found my bra under the coffee table, my shirt on top of the TV. But where the heck were my pants. I found them on the kitchen sink. And I didn't wonder anymore how the hell it got there. Bits and pieces of what happened came back to me. But I was still feeling drowsy to weave them together.
I was putting on my jeans when he walked in the kitchen and gave me a fright. I would've stumbled if he didn't catch me.
"Hey, easy."
I turned my back against him as I buttoned up my jeans and thought I didn't really have anything to hide specially if he had already buried his face at my innermost being.
When I straightened up, I saw him making coffee.
Without even looking, he commanded me, "Sit."
And I obliged.
We had coffee in silence. There wasn't really anything I could say which wouldn't sound weird. Thanks for making me come. But how about you Sir. …You know what would be nice, if I remembered everything that happened.
He broke my reverie. "You ok?" The look he gave me from across the table made me remember something of that night. It was the same look he gave me before I, oh yes I started to recall, lunged at him.
I cringed. "Uh yeah, I'm fine. Except for this slight headache," and major embarrassment.
He held my hand and looked at me. He must've read something in my face which made him get up from his seat so abruptly. He stood on the sink with his head hung low, and then, in a move that utterly surprised me, he threw his mug forcefully against the wall. The crashing sound shook me. I stood up and hurried after him as he stormed out of the kitchen.
"S- Jack!"
But he continued walking till he was out of the door.
I stood beside him noiselessly, our hands resting on the wooden rail on his front porch.
"I shouldn't have…" his words trailed off.
The images came flashing back to me.
We were on the couch. I was straddling him, kissing him. "Carter, stop it," half-grunting, he was gently pushing me away. "Please, I need this."…
I held on the rail as I swallowed my embarrassment. "It's not your fault."
"You were drunk out of your senses."
I didn't say anything.
He turned to look at me. "You don't even remember do you?"
………His hands found their way inside my shirt, stroking the length of my back. I moaned shamelessly while he kissed me ……
Clearing my throat, "Unfortunately I do. Foggy, but--"
…He whispered into my ear, "I don't want you like this Carter. You deserve better than this." I pushed him away and slipped my shirt off my head. "I want you Jack. Don't make me beg." He kissed me hard while his hands squeezed my waist. With my legs wrapped around him, he stood up and brought me to his bed…
"I'm sorry," he said.
"You are?" My surprised tone surprised me.
"You're not?" He sounded even more surprised.
I bit my tongue. Maybe I was still drunk. I clutched the wooden bar tighter.
"In vino veritas."
He turned on his side, facing me.
I explained, "In wine, there's-" but he cut me off abruptly.
"I know what it means. But what about…him."
I totally forgot about him. The guy who fulfilled my needs as a woman. I totally forgot about Pete.
With my body on autopilot I fetched my bag, coat and keys inside. I walked back out and stood on his porch for a minute, watched him stare out into the wooded yonder. I left with my heart about to burst into a tiny million pieces.
After a year, he had called again. He was in high spirits, urging me to come over, with a tempting promise of revealing to me the secret to his great-tasting omelet. I listened, near to tears, covering the mouthpiece as if he could hear my grief. I had said yes, of course, it's not everyday that I got the chance to be entrusted with a General's secret ingredient. And it was our last get together.. before we moved on with our lives.
Pleasantries. Old and new faces. Laughter. Beer. Some more laughter. Reminisces. More beer.
As the night faded, I also faded out into the background, moving in and out of conversations, avoiding him who was being himself: gregarious, caustic, a little too excited.
His imperviousness hurt that I chose to be alone mostly.
And while I was back on the same porch mulling the big changes that came in a short period of time,
We won over the Goauld. I lost Dad. Teal'c went back to Chulak; Daniel back to the academe. I requested a transfer to Area 51. Jack was asked to head Homeworld Security in DC.
he found his way to me.
"Dejavu." His voice startled me. I hurriedly wiped a stray tear away from my cheek, wondering how long he'd been standing near me.
"Hey," I replied without turning to look.
"The guys have left." He moved beside me, and the familiarity of his voice, his nearness sent me hurtling back to bitterness.
"I better be going then." I gave him a smile before moving towards the front door but he held me back with a steely request.
"Stay for a bit."
I sucked in my breath and relented.
We stared out in silence, on that same porch, as if we never left that moment a year ago.
He dipped his head and in his customary candidness said,
"So, Carter, any regrets?"
I should wonder why he asked that question, but I understood what he meant. We were nearing the end of the long-drawn out movie of our lives. How long had it been, ten years, more?
"None." I paused to gauge my sobriety, to make sure I'd blame only myself if I did something crazy that night. Our last night together. My last chance to show some audacity.
"Except for that night, when we -"
"Ah that." He said, slighted as he looked away.
I took some time before I eased the sting of my remark.
"I regret not remembering anything." I breathed out, dampening my underwear.
An awkward pause and then I heard him say, "Oh," which sounded like a threat, a delicious threat.
I waited for him to make good of his threat; maybe grab me, take me to bed, make me remember. But he just turned right back into staring out into the dark wooded yonder.
I folded my arms, bracing myself from the danger of my own making.
"Perhaps you could remind me."
He had never looked at me with such wild excitement in his eyes. Or maybe it had been too long since he did.
"Perhaps." His voice got husky.
Without breaking his gaze, he turned around and leaned back on the rail.
"But what about me?"
Not really knowing what he meant, I replied, "What about you?"
He looked on intently. "I want something I could revisit, not only in my head."
I dropped my gaze and turned away, resisting the urge to jump him right there. I had done my part, it was his turn.
And he didn't waste a minute, he moved behind me with such subtlety.
With the entire length of his body barely grazing my back, his arms locking me in place, it became harder to breathe.
"See, having these memories while I'm all alone in DC is pointless."
I shut my eyes, savoring his voice which vibrated through my body.
He nuzzled my hair – "I want the kind of memory that calls," nibbled my ear, – "shows up" – kissed my neck – "and surprises me."
"A living reminder." I heard myself say in what sounded like a breathless whisper.
"In the flesh," he murmured, tracing his hot and moist breath against my skin.
My head fell back as his solid frame pressed against me slightly, and his mouth worked its way from my neck to my shoulder, and back to the lobe of my ear.
If I moaned I was no longer aware of it, with my breathing becoming more ragged specially when his hand started to massage my breast. I closed my eyes and gripped the wooden rail when he pressed his hardness more urgently against my rear.
I felt bad to admit that my imagination had been limited, because what was happening was beyond my kinkiest dreams. And though the mere thought of outdoor sex was enough to make me come, I still hoped to enjoy him in the privacy of a room.
So when his free hand began to unbutton my blouse, I seized his hand in mine and led him from the porch to the door.
We walked past the hallway into his room in what seemed like the longest moment of my life.
And barely stepping inside, he claimed my lips immediately.
He tasted even better than I remembered.
We kissed as if we've been kissing forever, keeping in the same rhythm of pausing for breath, deepening the kiss, responding to the slightest nuances of random caresses, moans and hums.
And as we kissed, we hurriedly slipped out of our clothes.
His naked skin burned against mine as I wrapped my hands across his back, my body melding into his.
We've done this in other circumstances. Except this time we were kissing and we had no clothes. And this time I savored the thought of having his warm hard body against me for as long as I wanted, without counting off seconds before we drew ourselves away to resume our ranks.
"Bed," he managed to say, in a dangerously low voice that left me with only enough strength to reply with a nod.
I was lying on my back when I heard a switch flick. And instinctively I covered myself under the soft yellow light.
He moved towards me, his eyes dragging back and forth across my body. He grinned a little before peeling my hands off my nakedness.
I cringed at the thought of being surveyed by Jack. I shut my eyes, my body turning rigid under his gaze. But like putty in his hand, my body slowly eased out and relinquished itself to his kisses. This time I was fully aware that I was moaning and I couldn't care less. Jack was kissing every inch of my body, leaving quick kisses on some parts and long, lingering licks on others. He was playing me like a skillful musician, eliciting all sorts of sounds and vibrations from my body. It was bad to think of it, but Pete had been mediocre at best, compared to a virtuoso Jack. He had me clutching his hair, sucking in air between my teeth, hissing his name under my breath. He stroked my legs, licking the undersides, before parting them. I felt him pause, his hot breath hovering between my legs. I couldn't help but grin; he was perhaps mulling the reasons why I had shaved. The last time I hadn't. Was I expecting this to happen, I could almost hear him say. I arched my hips to silence his doubts. And when he refused to budge, I stole a menacing glimpse down where he shot me back with a smug look. He stuck out his tongue without breaking his gaze, and I immediately flipped my head back up. Too soon for that. Plenty of time to get accustomed to that.
Synchronized with his tongue, he resumed stroking my legs, his hands tracing movements around my inner thighs. I knew out of this world, so I couldn't say it felt out of this world. It felt simply indefinable.
His tongue whirled, flicking, lapping, sucking my lips, but plainly avoiding my most sensitive part. I should've expected he was equally wicked in bed.
I tugged at his head, guiding him into the right spot, but he held my hands down and went on with much focus and determination.
He continued dancing around my aching nub, making me writhe in agony, and hiss out words that I didn't know were in my vocabulary. Clearly, he enjoyed torturing me, as he never let up. I was close to screaming when he finally touched my spot with the tip of his tongue. And when he deftly inserted a finger inside me, I just completely lost it. Embarrassing, but I remembered some highly unprintable cuss words coming out of my mouth while he did what he simultaneously did with his finger and tongue. So not me.
I had expected to see a mile wide grin on his face when he crawled back up on top of me.
But he was as dazed as I was. He recaptured my lips, more ruthlessly this time, as his iron-hard manhood pressed against my belly. The way he mashed and stroked my breasts gave him away. He was losing the struggle to control himself. It was time for evil Sam to take over.
I held his shoulders, turned him over and pinned him beneath me. His eyes widened as he tried to recapture his dominance. But before he could flip me back I kept him still with my weight and traced the skin of his neck with my lips. He lay back and breathed out, a clear sign of surrender. His body tensed and then eased out as I began my ministrations.
I couldn't believe I was finally tasting him, letting my tongue run down his chest, sucking at his nipples, while my hands ran against the curves of his arms. I tried to connect with every inch of his body as much as I could thinking that it might be the only chance I would have. I didn't mind that I moved with such hunger and desperation. It was Jack, beneath me, our naked bodies warm on top of each other. And it wasn't a dream.
I moved down, my eyes still closed as his bodily flavors and distinct scent flooded my brain. He tasted incredible. And as I breathed him in, I no longer felt the smarting pain of pining that usually followed. Instead I felt an ache between my legs that needed to be filled.
I kept on sliding lower, willing myself to wait, to savor everything I could before the moment was over. I had to do everything then. No more thumb-twiddling and no room for reservations. If it was going to be my only chance, I better not let him forget it.
Reaching my destination, I held his pleasure handle on my hand. I had known it was big, but nothing prepared me for the actual experience of
holding Jack's thing in my hand.
"What're you waiting for?"
I snapped my head up and I couldn't believe he was looking at me smugly, his hands casually folded at the back of his head. Of course, Jack had to be equally cocky in bed.
The game was on. I narrowed my eyes at him as I snaked between his legs, lowered my head without breaking my gaze and thrust my breasts, pressed between my arms, to his admiring eyes. He gulped loudly, his forehead breaking into a sweat.
I stuck my tongue out like he did earlier, and teased his tip lightly. He looked on, trying to appear in control, but his deep breathing told me otherwise.
I softened my lips and wrapped it around his head, while my tongue circled his slit.
"Fuck," He blurted out as his eyes fogged up.
I teased him with my lips and tongue, cloaking his shaft with swirling light movements, which I varied with intense sucking. I counted ten seconds, before his eyes rolled up. Another five seconds and he was clutching my hair in his hands.
I continued teasing him, working him up to the hilt, and then stopping just before he toppled over the edge.
He let go of my hair eventually, knowing that his succeeding grips would be merciless. The poor sheets took the brunt of his ecstasy. And never had I imagined that one of my life's proudest moments would consist of the sound of ripping fabric.
It felt so great to be a physicist and have a working knowledge of the entire universe and everything it contained.
As if to quell my conceit, he grabbed my wrists. I shouldn't have let down my guard. Before I could sense what was happening, he took control and his body was again on top of mine.
"You've been a bad girl, Colonel." He gritted between his teeth as he held my hands firmly on the side of my head. I tried vainly to ignore his solid chest weighing down on my breasts and his hardness throbbing against my sex.
"What're you gonna do about it –" I whispered back as I stared back at his burnt chocolate eyes.
He gave me his fullest grin, trying to keep in character, "I swear Colonel, you'll be screaming my name later."
I was about to respond, when he kissed me. It was a kiss the took my wind out. As I felt his hand travel between my legs, all I could think of at that moment was discovering how good we were in bed. Or was it the thought that it we were finally doing those things to each other that made me think we were good.
It was a pain to breathe, with his mouth clamped on mine, his body pressed against me, and his urgent finger moving so delicately against my lubricated folds.
I squirmed beneath him which only served to fuel his cruelty more. He broke off the kiss for a moment, and drew his body away while staring at me. I grew tense, wondering what he was up to when I felt his hard silken top on my wet opening.
He pushed himself inside just barely, making my insides ache. I clutched his biceps, and kissed his face, as if pleading him to plunge himself in and end my misery.
But he only drew farther away, his face hovering and unreachable, his eyes full of fury. The damn bastard wanted me to beg. Well, Samantha Carter didn't beg.
I shut my lids, focusing on his slow thrusting, his hot and heavy breathing misting my face.
I thought I could endure the torture but he upped the ante again, as I felt his scorching tongue on my nipples. I dug my nails on his arms and grunted.
"Problem Carter?" he rasped as he continued to tease my sex with his dick, and my pebbled nipples with his tongue.
A shiver ran through me as I realized we were having too much fun.
"Jack, please," I caved in.
"Jack?" he mumbled against my breasts.
Shit he was determined to play our game right down to the details. It was crazy, and it drove me to dizzying heights.
"Sir…"
"Sir?" he continued his teasing.
I thrusted my hips up in desperation, but he roughly pushed my waist down on the bed with his hands.
"What is it Carter?" He fixed me a stare with his crazed eyes.
"Please.. General," I moaned, my voice almost a whimper.
He pushed himself halfway inside me, his movement a little faster, but still killing me with need.
"Say my name," the words barely out as his breathing got shorter and deeper.
"General…Jack… O'Neill… please…" I cried as a I looped my arm around his neck, my heart beating hard in my chest.
"Please what.." He was moving more urgently now, his face flushed and dripping with perspiration. How he managed to hold himself back was beyond me.
"Please.. General…Jack.. O'Neill.. fuck.. me.."
He replied with a quick powerful thrust that almost made me faint.
I hung onto him, bracing myself, as I panted against his shoulder, my breasts crushed against his chest while he plunged back and forth, deeper and faster.
I nuzzled my face against his neck, feeling his skin pulse against mine, and nearly wept as the pleasure built inside me. A sort of blinding white light overtook the moment as I closed my eyes and felt myself filled out with his incredible size and hardness. I thought I couldn't bear another second of it as the pleasure tore through every nerve in my body in violent waves.
The thought of Jack, finally inside me, grunting my name against my ear, also began to rush me to the edge.
"Jack," I gasped.
"Come for me Sam," he grunted against my ear.
I rocked my hips, grinding myself against him, filing all those years of tormented desire. I needed more — more pleasure, more brutish contact, more feeling of that gratification that flowed through me like a torrent of neverending waves.
As the electric liquid heat slowly drained out of my body, I groaned against his neck and clung to him tightly.
I couldn't remember if I said how I felt. How I loved him, with all of me. Perhaps he had heard my soul scream it because he kept professing words in my ear.
As we regained our sanity, I felt him lay next to me. I opened my eyes and turned towards him the moment he ran his fingertips across my skin.
I could see him clearly, as the light of the early dawn filtered in the room. His hard features were softened by the look in his eyes. We didn't talk about our plans, how we would move on from that moment to the next. We sort of agreed to just lay there.
And from then, innocent was the last thing that described our subsequent get-togethers.