Disclaimer: See Default Chapter
Chapter Thirteen: Slow Enough
Jack's house was in darkness when Sam pulled up front, except for a small light in the living room. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard and fast she thought it would break right through her ribs. But the adrenaline that electrified her blood wasn't from fear. Not anymore.
Never again. Not when it came to Jack.
She got out of her car and went to the front door, peeking through the window to the left, trying to see inside. Before she lifted her hand to knock, she saw his legs protruding out away from his couch. The leg brace was gone, and Sam smiled to herself. She was willing to bet it was on the other side of the room... removed in frustration.
Not wanting to make him get up, Sam dug out her key ring and found the house key he had given to her years before. Just in case, he had said.
This was definitely a just in case situation.
She slipped the key into the lock, and with gentle care, released the tumblers and opened the door. Sam held her breath as she closed the door behind her, watching what she could see of his body to make sure he didn't wake up. Not yet.
Shrugging off her jacket, she left it with her purse on the foyer landing. Reaching the corner, she snuck her head around to peek at him.
Jack was slouched down on the couch, his arm draped across his face. The soft light from the end table left him in a tantalizing glow, accentuating the angles and muscles of his body and arms beneath the black tee shirt. Sam's skin warmed and her heart beat faster.
She slipped down the steps and eased her knees into the cushion of the couch so she knelt facing him. Feeling just a little mischievous, Sam watched his face – or what she could see of it – and rested her hand over his heart. It beat steady and strong against her palm. Sam closed her eyes, recalling more than once when he had held her close and she either heard or felt his heart beating. So soothing. So comforting. So arousing.
With a smile so wide on her lips, it made her cheeks ache, Sam leaned forward and carefully eased Jack's arm away from his face. He sighed, heavily, and turned his face towards her. Sam set his arm across his stomach and turned her focus again on him.
His features were relaxed, his sculpted lips parted as he breathed heavy in sleep. Sam ran her fingertips along his brow, brushing his short, silver hair. It was soft, amazingly soft, and it surprised her. Somehow, she expected his short hair to feel coarse, not silky. She moved down the bridge of his nose, touched his lips, felt his breath on her fingers. He drew in a long, deep breath, his chest rising.
Sam leaned closer, brushing her cheek along his until her lips rested near his ear. Her own breath was short, and she closed her eyes for a moment to try and regain some control of the chaos that twirled sweetly through her stomach. She rested her hands on his abdomen, still tight and hard from years of discipline, and ran her palms up over his chest.
"Jack," she said softly, pursing her lips against his jaw. "Wake up."
She felt the shift in his body, heard the change in his breathing, and knew he was awake. A giggle threatened to escape, but she bit her lip and instead focused on breathing gently against his ear. She touched her lips to his skin again, holding them there for a long kiss.
His arms came around her, pressing against her back, pulling her closer. In an easy, fluid motion Sam shifted and brought her legs over his thighs so she straddled his lap, facing him. He moaned softly, but she could tell it wasn't from pain. Sam held his face in her hands and leaned back to look into his yes.
Fully away now, he looked up at her. His gaze moved over her face, and she felt it as surely as a caress. Sam ran her thumb over his lips and they curled up into a slow, sexy grin.
"Carter..."
"Sam," she said, closing the space between them to cover his mouth with her own.
Of all the kisses they had shared, for whatever reason they had happened, this was the most earth shattering of all. Its power moved through her like a Zat shot, sucking the air from her lungs and heating her skin until her clothes felt restrictive and smothering. One of them moaned, she didn't know who, didn't care.
Jack's hands moved over her back, gripping her hips to pull her closer. His touch invigorated and energized her. She fought to control the need that raged inside her as his hands slipped beneath her shirt to touch her skin.
"Sam," he said against her mouth. "Don't you want to take this slow?"
She shook her head, and pulled back only far enough that she could match his gaze. "I think eight years is slow enough, don't you?"
He smiled, his eyelids heavy and his eyes dark as he looked at her. Slowly, he nodded his head, his stare dropping to her lips. "Oh, yeah. Plenty slow enough."
Jack held her head in his hands and pulled her down again for another kiss.
"I'd sweep you off your feet and carry you to the bedroom, but..."
Sam started to laugh.
"No giggling."
"No giggling," she repeated and slipped off his lap to stand.
She held out her hands to him, and holding her gaze, he took them and stood. He wrapped one arm around her, raising the other to touch her face. The touch was so tender, so gentle, it brought tears to her eyes.
"I love you." His voice was heavy, and rough, and hit whispered over her like a black velvet blanket. "I haven't said that to anyone in a long time."
"I know. I love you, too."
Chapter Thirteen: Slow Enough
Jack's house was in darkness when Sam pulled up front, except for a small light in the living room. Her heart pounded in her chest so hard and fast she thought it would break right through her ribs. But the adrenaline that electrified her blood wasn't from fear. Not anymore.
Never again. Not when it came to Jack.
She got out of her car and went to the front door, peeking through the window to the left, trying to see inside. Before she lifted her hand to knock, she saw his legs protruding out away from his couch. The leg brace was gone, and Sam smiled to herself. She was willing to bet it was on the other side of the room... removed in frustration.
Not wanting to make him get up, Sam dug out her key ring and found the house key he had given to her years before. Just in case, he had said.
This was definitely a just in case situation.
She slipped the key into the lock, and with gentle care, released the tumblers and opened the door. Sam held her breath as she closed the door behind her, watching what she could see of his body to make sure he didn't wake up. Not yet.
Shrugging off her jacket, she left it with her purse on the foyer landing. Reaching the corner, she snuck her head around to peek at him.
Jack was slouched down on the couch, his arm draped across his face. The soft light from the end table left him in a tantalizing glow, accentuating the angles and muscles of his body and arms beneath the black tee shirt. Sam's skin warmed and her heart beat faster.
She slipped down the steps and eased her knees into the cushion of the couch so she knelt facing him. Feeling just a little mischievous, Sam watched his face – or what she could see of it – and rested her hand over his heart. It beat steady and strong against her palm. Sam closed her eyes, recalling more than once when he had held her close and she either heard or felt his heart beating. So soothing. So comforting. So arousing.
With a smile so wide on her lips, it made her cheeks ache, Sam leaned forward and carefully eased Jack's arm away from his face. He sighed, heavily, and turned his face towards her. Sam set his arm across his stomach and turned her focus again on him.
His features were relaxed, his sculpted lips parted as he breathed heavy in sleep. Sam ran her fingertips along his brow, brushing his short, silver hair. It was soft, amazingly soft, and it surprised her. Somehow, she expected his short hair to feel coarse, not silky. She moved down the bridge of his nose, touched his lips, felt his breath on her fingers. He drew in a long, deep breath, his chest rising.
Sam leaned closer, brushing her cheek along his until her lips rested near his ear. Her own breath was short, and she closed her eyes for a moment to try and regain some control of the chaos that twirled sweetly through her stomach. She rested her hands on his abdomen, still tight and hard from years of discipline, and ran her palms up over his chest.
"Jack," she said softly, pursing her lips against his jaw. "Wake up."
She felt the shift in his body, heard the change in his breathing, and knew he was awake. A giggle threatened to escape, but she bit her lip and instead focused on breathing gently against his ear. She touched her lips to his skin again, holding them there for a long kiss.
His arms came around her, pressing against her back, pulling her closer. In an easy, fluid motion Sam shifted and brought her legs over his thighs so she straddled his lap, facing him. He moaned softly, but she could tell it wasn't from pain. Sam held his face in her hands and leaned back to look into his yes.
Fully away now, he looked up at her. His gaze moved over her face, and she felt it as surely as a caress. Sam ran her thumb over his lips and they curled up into a slow, sexy grin.
"Carter..."
"Sam," she said, closing the space between them to cover his mouth with her own.
Of all the kisses they had shared, for whatever reason they had happened, this was the most earth shattering of all. Its power moved through her like a Zat shot, sucking the air from her lungs and heating her skin until her clothes felt restrictive and smothering. One of them moaned, she didn't know who, didn't care.
Jack's hands moved over her back, gripping her hips to pull her closer. His touch invigorated and energized her. She fought to control the need that raged inside her as his hands slipped beneath her shirt to touch her skin.
"Sam," he said against her mouth. "Don't you want to take this slow?"
She shook her head, and pulled back only far enough that she could match his gaze. "I think eight years is slow enough, don't you?"
He smiled, his eyelids heavy and his eyes dark as he looked at her. Slowly, he nodded his head, his stare dropping to her lips. "Oh, yeah. Plenty slow enough."
Jack held her head in his hands and pulled her down again for another kiss.
"I'd sweep you off your feet and carry you to the bedroom, but..."
Sam started to laugh.
"No giggling."
"No giggling," she repeated and slipped off his lap to stand.
She held out her hands to him, and holding her gaze, he took them and stood. He wrapped one arm around her, raising the other to touch her face. The touch was so tender, so gentle, it brought tears to her eyes.
"I love you." His voice was heavy, and rough, and hit whispered over her like a black velvet blanket. "I haven't said that to anyone in a long time."
"I know. I love you, too."