Jack POV:
What am I doing? This is the last chance I have to save my marriage. Am I willing to throw it all away?
"It's raining," she groans softly. "I took the subway in this morning."
"I can give you a ride back."
"Do you mind?" Her voice tells me she feels bad for asking. If it weren't for the rain, I'm not sure if she'd take me up on the offer.
"Come on." We head into my car and out of the parking garage.
"Thanks, Jack."
"Yeah," I nod my head, glancing over towards her. She's quiet and I'm worried—she's never this quiet. There's a comfortable silence, and then there's silence when she's mulling something over in her head. "Sam?"
She laughs softly. "You're the only one I allow to call me that." I eye her briefly and then glance at the road again. "If you want me to transfer, Jack, I'll do it."
"You know I don't want that." We pull in front of her place and she unfastens her seatbelt and turns to face me.
"Maybe it's not about what you want."
My eyes widen. "You want to transfer?" I clarify. She glances out the window at the rain pouring down, avoiding my question.
"I'll see you tomorrow at work." Her hand grabs the door handle.
"Sam, wait." She glances back towards me. With such a simple look, her eyes convey so much emotion. "Let me walk you upstairs. I have an umbrella."
"Okay," she nods. I turn off the car, reach in the backseat and pull the black umbrella out. I open the car door, then the umbrella and move around to the passenger side to walk Samantha up to her front door.
She opens the door. "You'll have to leave that outside if you want to come in." She eyes the wet umbrella and I drop it to the floor, following her inside.
"You've changed it." I glance around the living room.
"Yeah," she nods. The furniture's been rearranged since the last time I was over. The walls are painted a fresh shade of yellow and have new prints on them.
"I like what you've done."
"I needed to brighten the place," she answers, heading into the kitchen to grab a beer for herself. "You want one?" She pulls it from the fridge, showing it to me.
"Sure." I know it's a bad idea, but I don't care. I haven't spent time with her since the shooting. I let out a sigh as she opens the bottle and hands it to me. "Thanks."
She nods her head and downs her drink. She crashes onto the couch beside me, closing her eyes and letting her head rest on the back of the sofa. "Mmm," she lets out a soft moan and I feel myself slightly aroused. It's been too long.
Her eyes open when she realizes how quiet I've been and that I'm staring at her.
"What, Jack?"
I don't know what to say without telling her I want to run my mouth down her neck and taste her skin. I close my eyes, drinking in her wonderful scent that permeates her apartment. "I miss this," are the only words that I can form without saying or revealing too much. I close my eyes, not wanting her to see how much I desire her.
"Me too," she answers and I hear her shift around and feel her hips straddling mine.
"Sam," I croak, feeling her weight against me. She pushes me back against the sofa, lying flat as she leans down, hovering above me. Her tongue traces its way around my mouth and I close my eyes, not wanting to give in so desperately. I have more control, I have---. All thoughts leave my mind as I feel her hips gyrating and her hands in my hair. A groan escapes my throat as she draws her mouth over my Adam's apple, kissing it softly, and then up towards my ear. "Oh God," I moan, feeling her tongue flick the lobe. The room is suddenly so hot.
"Shhh," she smiles, drawing her hand along my chest and down my stomach.
I groan in protest, but it hardly sounds that way. Her hand works on my belt buckle and I feel her mouth against mine, hard and forceful, as she plunges her tongue into my mouth—clashing, tasting, teasing me.
My hands move over her hips and then her back, tugging at the shirt and pulling it over her head. Her long hair falls forward and I brush it back, leaning up to kiss her neck and down her breasts as we finish removing one another's clothes.
What am I doing? This is the last chance I have to save my marriage. Am I willing to throw it all away?
"It's raining," she groans softly. "I took the subway in this morning."
"I can give you a ride back."
"Do you mind?" Her voice tells me she feels bad for asking. If it weren't for the rain, I'm not sure if she'd take me up on the offer.
"Come on." We head into my car and out of the parking garage.
"Thanks, Jack."
"Yeah," I nod my head, glancing over towards her. She's quiet and I'm worried—she's never this quiet. There's a comfortable silence, and then there's silence when she's mulling something over in her head. "Sam?"
She laughs softly. "You're the only one I allow to call me that." I eye her briefly and then glance at the road again. "If you want me to transfer, Jack, I'll do it."
"You know I don't want that." We pull in front of her place and she unfastens her seatbelt and turns to face me.
"Maybe it's not about what you want."
My eyes widen. "You want to transfer?" I clarify. She glances out the window at the rain pouring down, avoiding my question.
"I'll see you tomorrow at work." Her hand grabs the door handle.
"Sam, wait." She glances back towards me. With such a simple look, her eyes convey so much emotion. "Let me walk you upstairs. I have an umbrella."
"Okay," she nods. I turn off the car, reach in the backseat and pull the black umbrella out. I open the car door, then the umbrella and move around to the passenger side to walk Samantha up to her front door.
She opens the door. "You'll have to leave that outside if you want to come in." She eyes the wet umbrella and I drop it to the floor, following her inside.
"You've changed it." I glance around the living room.
"Yeah," she nods. The furniture's been rearranged since the last time I was over. The walls are painted a fresh shade of yellow and have new prints on them.
"I like what you've done."
"I needed to brighten the place," she answers, heading into the kitchen to grab a beer for herself. "You want one?" She pulls it from the fridge, showing it to me.
"Sure." I know it's a bad idea, but I don't care. I haven't spent time with her since the shooting. I let out a sigh as she opens the bottle and hands it to me. "Thanks."
She nods her head and downs her drink. She crashes onto the couch beside me, closing her eyes and letting her head rest on the back of the sofa. "Mmm," she lets out a soft moan and I feel myself slightly aroused. It's been too long.
Her eyes open when she realizes how quiet I've been and that I'm staring at her.
"What, Jack?"
I don't know what to say without telling her I want to run my mouth down her neck and taste her skin. I close my eyes, drinking in her wonderful scent that permeates her apartment. "I miss this," are the only words that I can form without saying or revealing too much. I close my eyes, not wanting her to see how much I desire her.
"Me too," she answers and I hear her shift around and feel her hips straddling mine.
"Sam," I croak, feeling her weight against me. She pushes me back against the sofa, lying flat as she leans down, hovering above me. Her tongue traces its way around my mouth and I close my eyes, not wanting to give in so desperately. I have more control, I have---. All thoughts leave my mind as I feel her hips gyrating and her hands in my hair. A groan escapes my throat as she draws her mouth over my Adam's apple, kissing it softly, and then up towards my ear. "Oh God," I moan, feeling her tongue flick the lobe. The room is suddenly so hot.
"Shhh," she smiles, drawing her hand along my chest and down my stomach.
I groan in protest, but it hardly sounds that way. Her hand works on my belt buckle and I feel her mouth against mine, hard and forceful, as she plunges her tongue into my mouth—clashing, tasting, teasing me.
My hands move over her hips and then her back, tugging at the shirt and pulling it over her head. Her long hair falls forward and I brush it back, leaning up to kiss her neck and down her breasts as we finish removing one another's clothes.