A/N: And so goes another New Year's Resolution… (sigh.) Sorry for the delay. I had great intentions of rocking through this, but real life smacked me in the head. I volunteered to do a "small" web project for my Dad's company. Funny how "small" has a way of growing into TITANIC when you're not looking. And no, comparing the project to the ill-fated Atlantic vessel is not coincidental. On the bright side, I can now configure an entire web server from the ground up, integrate Apache, PHP, MySQL and Joomla on a Windows server, and even write PHP scripts with a fair amount of expertise. Amazing what one can learn in a month when they sink every moment of free time into the endeavor…
As for this long-awaited chapter, I should probably insert the obligatory, "HOT NEKKED HEROES AHEAD" warning. Yes. I mean sex. Of the Rated-M-For-Mature variety. Read at your own risk… or enjoyment, as the case may be!
Chapter 7
Sliding into the half-open sleeping bag, Sam felt a smile form on her lips. "I'm still not sure about the size of this bedroll," she said lightly. As her body molded itself against his, she sighed in delight at the heat which blazed through her.
Jack closed his eyes in mute pleasure. The feel of his Carter pressed against him so intimately was enough to put all of his senses into overload. "Oh, I don't know," he murmured hoarsely, "I'm kind-of enjoying the close quarters."
Was that an understatement.
Sam grinned, enjoying the tension which had crept into his voice. "I am too," she reassured him quickly. Then, with a naughty twinkle in her eye, she finished her thought. "I'm just not sure I want to be… restricted in the next few hours." She slid her hands under the hem of his t-shirt and slid them seductively up his muscled abdomen. "I worry that the tiny space might require me to reign in my enthusiasm."
As her words sank in, Jack found himself contemplating several very intriguing mental pictures. The combination of her suggestive comments and the feel of her fingers on his bare skin was enough to send a shot of pure adrenaline rushing through his veins. "You're inventive," he rasped, meeting her sparkling blue gaze with a look of blistering heat. "I'm sure you'll think of alternate ways of expressing yourself."
Faced with the naked hunger in his dark eyes, Sam felt a shiver skitter reflexively down her spine. "I'm sure I will," she replied, tracing the line of hair on his lower belly to the button of his fatigues.
Sucking in a sharp breath, Jack realized that if he didn't start taking control of the situation, her enthusiasm might bring matters to an unsatisfying conclusion before he'd even had a chance to get warmed up. Maneuvering as deftly as possible in the cramped space, Jack slid his own hands between their bodies and took hold of her wrists. "See?" he said somewhat gruffly, "You're already an overachiever." Not waiting to see if she was going to object, Jack quickly turned the tables on her and grabbed onto the hem of her t-shirt. With one forceful tug, he pulled the shirt upward, forcing her to bring her arms up so that he could wrestle it over her head and off her body entirely.
As the smooth, stretchy material of her sports bra slid against the hair-roughened expanse of his chest, Sam felt an equal mix of erotic pleasure and sharp impatience. Why the hell hadn't she left the bra off when she'd changed earlier? Exhaling audibly, she mentally cursed her inability to buck convention. She couldn't even forgo a soggy, cold undergarment when trapped underground during a hurricane, for fear of appearing brazen to her commanding officer. It was ironic, she acknowledged, that she was now feeling a little stupid for not trying to appear more brazen to him.
Jack seemed to sense her irritation and chuckled softly. "Something wrong?" he teased, shifting against her slightly in an effort to generate friction between her overheated, fabric-covered flesh and the wall of his chest. When her blue eyes flashed with heat and temper, he leaned forward and brushed a lazy kiss on her mouth. "Relax, Sam," he murmured. "We're not in any rush." As if to prove his words, his hands began a slow, tortuous ascent up her belly to the lower edge of her tank bra.
Sam's eyes fluttered shut instinctively. "Maybe you're not in any rush," she muttered breathlessly, "but I've been imagining this moment for the better part of a decade." When one of his fingers slid beneath the elastic of the stretchy undergarment, Sam inhaled sharply. "I'm not sure 'slow' is in my vocabulary right now," she hissed.
Understanding her impatience, Jack took pity on her and grasped the lower edge of the bra firmly. In moments, it had been tugged away and discarded on the floor beside her t-shirt, leaving her deliciously naked from the waist up.
Shivering involuntarily, Sam sighed in mute pleasure at the sensations which resulted. It hardly seemed possible that she was skin-to-skin against him. How many times had she dreamed of this? Too many to count, she was sure. She was also sure that none of her fantasies had come close to mimicking the feelings she was currently being bombarded with.
Sensing her satisfaction with their current position, Jack slid his hands between their bodies and cupped the heavy fullness of her breasts firmly. Brushing his thumbs across their taut peaks, he smiled at the soft moan his touch had induced. "Better?" he murmured softly.
Sam sucked in a fevered breath. "It's getting there," she gasped. Shifting her hips against him restlessly, she seemed to be reminding him that there were other parts of her body demanding immediate attention.
Jack's eyes glimmered in understanding. Responding to her unvoiced request, he slid his hands down to the waistband of her pants. In an impressive show of dexterity, he flicked the button open and slid her zipper down in one, smooth motion.
Chuckling in spite of her fevered need, Sam speared him with a questioning look. "You're awfully good at that," she said suspiciously.
Jack grinned. "Black ops training."
Shaking her head, Sam's amused laugh ended in a sharp gasp of pleasure as one of his hands slid into the downy triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs.
For a few moments, his fingers teased her heated flesh enticingly, drawing soft noises of mindless bliss from her throat. Then, eager to find more of her, he pulled her slacks and underpants over her gently rounded hips. "You're going to have to help me here," he muttered softly. As her passion-clouded eyes met his, he gazed at her intensely. "I don't think I can get those the rest of the way off on my own. It's a bit cramped in here," he explained, nodding slightly at the tiny confines of the sleeping bag.
Sam finally understood his directive. With about as much grace as a fish out of water, she managed to wriggle out of the unwanted garments. Shaking slightly as she reached down and pulled them out of the sleeping bag, she realized that she hadn't felt this unbalanced and uncoordinated since the night Janet had taken her out for dollar tequila shots. Apparently, she noted wryly, Jack was even more potent than Jose Cuervo.
And then, rational thought fled entirely as his hand slid back to its previous pursuit. As waves of erotic sensation spiraled through her body, Sam found herself whimpering hoarsely as she clung to the solid wall of his chest. In moments, she found herself nearing the edge of control.
With more force than she thought she could muster at that point, she roughly reached down and grabbed his wrist, pulling it away from her heated flesh. Eyes blazing with intensity, she met his questioning look head-on. Perhaps it was the need to be on equal footing with him in this moment, or perhaps it was her desire to give as much as she was receiving, but in either case, Sam knew that her first trip down this particular road was going to be taken with him right beside her.
Jack searched her eyes carefully, concentrating on their nearly-supernatural ability to communicate without words. In her electric-blue gaze, he could see a blend of determination and searing desire. He wasn't sure how he managed to absorb her unspoken request, given his present state of blistering need, but somehow, he did. Leaning forward, he brushed a soft, sensual kiss on her mouth and gently slid his hand upward along her belly.
Inhaling slowly, Sam found her hands shaking as she molded her own slender fingers along the compact, muscled shape of his hips. The need to be joined with him had become a nearly physical sensation clawing in the pit of her belly. Much as she wanted to savor this moment, patience was completely beyond her at that point. Zeroing in on her target, Sam's hands reacted to her baser urges with lightning speed.
Yanking down the zipper of his fatigues with one hand, Sam slid her other down his belly, roughly pushing the fabric of his boxers out of the way. Freed from the constraining garments, Jack's erection sprang into her hand eagerly, eliciting heated groans from both of them simultaneously. For a moment, Sam desperately pondered how she could possibly maneuver his pants the rest of the way down his legs, given their cramped quarters and her complete lack of coordination. Then, as his hardened length twitched involuntarily at her touch, she growled in a very un-Carter-like manner. "To hell with it," she muttered. Refusing to wait another moment, she rolled her body on top of his and impaled herself on his straining heat.
Totally taken aback by her frenzied assault, Jack was unprepared for the feel of her liquid heat wrapped around him. Hissing sharply at the waves of pleasure which gripped him, he completely lost the ability for coherent thought.
Head tossed back in ecstasy, Sam panted with mindless abandon as she used her hips and thighs to bounce rhythmically against him, burying his throbbing length completely inside her time and again. When the sensitive spot at the junction of her thighs collided against his pelvic bone, she felt the first contractions of a cataclysmic orgasm rip through her belly.
Feeling her molten heat begin to constrict wildly around his erection, Jack found his own climax bearing down on him like a freight train. A hoarse, uncontrolled cry tore from his throat as his flesh shuddered in white-hot, frenzied release.
For what seemed like an eternity, the pair clutched each other tightly as the universe unraveled around them. Then, with the downy softness of a warm blanket, consciousness wrapped itself around them in an infinitely tender embrace.
As her eyes fluttered open, Sam found herself staring into the fathomless, dark eyes she'd come to know so well over the past seven years. For a moment, she held her breath, unsure of what she might see reflected there. A moment, however, was all she needed to absorb the deep, overwhelming emotion flickering in their depths.
Reflexively, Jack reached up and caressed the delicate line of her jaw. "I love you, Sam," he stated simply. "I should have told you that ages ago."
Sam felt a tear slip from the corner of her eye as she leaned forward and brushed a gentle kiss on his mouth. "I love you too," she replied. Then, looking into his tender gaze, she smiled softly. "And no regrets, remember?" She drew a shaky breath, fighting off a wave of bittersweet emotion. "We've got each other now."
Jack nodded and pulled her snugly against him. "Now and always," he murmured.
Sam fell asleep listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.
Several hours later, Jack was yanked from solid slumber by the sensation of something slamming into his chin. Biting back a ragged curse, he blinked drowsily in the pitch-blackness trying to recall where the hell he was.
As he reached up to rub his eyes, his hand encountered something warm, round, and soft – something that felt suspiciously like a –
Suddenly, memories of the events of the night before crashed into his brain, overwhelming him with their intensity. Sliding his hand to a more appropriate location, Jack abruptly realized that Sam had pushed herself up on one arm, gasping for breath. He also realized that her head was the solid object which had collided with his chin.
"Carter? What is it?" He belatedly realized that using her last name might be a bit insulting, given all that had passed between them in the last few hours. Still, he figured he deserved some leeway in their present situation, seeing as how he was still mostly asleep and how calling her 'Carter' had become a reflex over the past seven years.
For her part, Sam didn't seem to notice his slip. "I… I had a dream," she stammered. In the darkness, her ragged breathing echoed off the walls of the tomb.
Jack squeezed her gently. "Shhh," he whispered. "It's only a nightmare."
Unexpectedly, however, Sam shook her head vigorously. "No," she replied, sounding both tense and uncertain. "It wasn't a nightmare." Before he had a chance to reply, she looked into his eyes with feverishly. "It was an inspiration." Her voice rang with quiet urgency. "Jack," she whispered, "We've got to get up and face that storm." She fairly trembled with the importance of her next statement.
"I know how to save Earth."
