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"I don't think I can eat another bite," Sam said with a moan, leaning back in her chair. "This food is amazing."
"Not exactly the Cheyenne Mountain mess." Jack took a sip from his glass of wine.
Sam looked at him, and realized she couldn't recall ever seeing him drink wine. Beer. The hard stuff... but never a glass of Merlot. He brought the goblet away from his lips and looked at her.
"What?"
"Nothing... I just... "She shook her head. "Nothing."
He watched her for several heartbeats. The same slow, easy, heated stare he had placed her under many times in the last few years, as if he saw more when he looked at her than anyone else could see. Her insides heated and liquefied, and she finally forced herself to look away.
"Sure you don't have more room?"
He picked up the plate of chocolate cake that had been sitting at the corner of the table for the last ten minutes – taunting her. It was three layers high with whipped mousse between each moist layer – frosting a good half-inch thick with rosettes and shaved chocolate on the top. Despite herself, she licked her lips.
"I don't think I can..."
He knew her weakness, and she knew he knew. That's why he had asked for the cake at the beginning of the meal, she'd bet her life on it. So that at the end, when she said she couldn't eat more, he'd have it ready.
Evil man.
He took his fork and sliced away a bite, holding it midair in front of his lips, watching her as he opened his mouth and ate the cake. She could only stare. The frosting clung to his lips, and he nodded as he chewed.
"Good cake."
"Looks more like a religious experience to me," she said, looking down at the plate.
"Religion has nothing to do with this."
He cut through the dessert again, balancing a bit piece on the tongs of his fork. Then he set his elbow on the table and held the utensil out to her. She looked from his face, to the cake, and back to him. He raised his brow and nodded once.
"You know you want it."
Well, if I can't have one decadent fantasy, I might as well indulge in the other.
Sam leaned in hesitantly, holding his gaze, and opened her mouth. Jack gently fed her the cake, and she closed her lips on the fork, letting him slide it free. The creamy frosting and mousse hit her tongue and she closed her eyes, humming in ecstasy.
As she chewed it, she mumbled, opening her eyes to see him watching her. His eyelids were heavy over his dark eyes, and his gaze settled on her mouth.
"What?" he asked.
Sam covered her lips with her fingers, hiding her tongue as she licked her lips. "I said 'orgasm by chocolate'."
His gaze shot up to meet hers.
"Samantha Carter? Is that you?"
Sam quickly sat back and pressed a linen napkin to her lips. She looked up to see a familiar face walking towards them through the hotel's restaurant. A smile hit her lips.
"Jane? Is that you?"
She stood and embraced Jane Bellows, one of her closest friends besides Erin while in college. When she leaned back, she looked down at the woman's burgeoning waistline and mentally put her at about seven months pregnant.
"My God, Jane. You're about to bust."
Jane laughed, putting a hand against her swelling side. "I feel like it, too. Samantha, you look wonderful. It's so good to see you."
"It's good to see you, too." Embarrassment hit her when she realized her lack of manners. She turned back to the table, but jumped when she found Jack standing right behind her. He smiled down at her. "Um, Jane... this is my... um...Colonel..." Suddenly, she had found the ability to speak, and heat rushed her cheeks.
Jack's hand pressed against the small of her back, and she nearly gasped. He extended his other to Jane. "Colonel Jack O'Neill."
Jane took his hand, and arched one approving eyebrow as she looked back at Sam. "Erin said you were bringing a guest. None of us imagined one quite so... definitely of the male persuasion. Nice to meet you, Colonel. Or can I just call you Jack?"
"Jack is fine."
"Have you seen Erin yet?" Jane asked of Sam.
She shook her head, still keenly aware of Jack's hand on the small of her back. He had touched her like that before... not often... but before, and yet the touch was different when felt through layers of mission uniforms and staff-weapon resistant vests. Sam shook off her wandering thoughts and did her best to focus.
"Um, no. We only just checked in. I just figured I would see her tomorrow."
"Oh, at the cookout! That's right." Jane looked at Jack. "Erin will love meeting you, Jack. She's been telling Sam for years it was time she found someone. And you're definitely someone."
Sam's face was going to burst into flames any second now... she just knew it.
"Well, I'm heading up to my room. Phillip is watching the kids, and that usually spells trouble. It was very nice to meet you, Jack, and we'll see you both tomorrow at the barbeque."
Sam embraced Jane one more time before her old friend walked ... waddled... towards the foyer. She remembered now that Jane had two children already, with the third obviously on the way. Regretfully, she admitted to herself that she hadn't kept in as close contact with them over the last ten years as she should have. But the Stargate Program was such a huge part of her life... the simplest thing like making a phone call or sending an email seemed hard to fit in.
She turned to see Jack setting some bills on the table and sliding his wallet into his back pocket. "Oh, Jack... let me..."
"Nope," was his only answer, giving her no room for argument.
In silent agreement, they left the restaurant and headed for the elevators. As the doors closed, Sam chewed on her lower lip, trying to work up enough guts to speak. She crossed her arms over her body and rocked from the balls of her feet back to her heels, and forward again.
"What..." Jack asked.
Sam jumped, and glanced at him. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, his hand on the stainless steel rail that ran around three sides. Without even trying, he was the sexiest man she had ever seen. She blinked and looked away.
"I'm sorry about that."
"About what?"
"Jane. She has a tendency to ... gush... and pretty much speaks her opinion on whatever she wants."
"Aaah," he said with a dismissive wave. "No big shakes."
The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors opened. Jack had the room key in his hand as they reached their door, and after opening it, stepped aside to let her in. The reality of the situation hit her again in one overwhelming wave. She quickly glanced at the small couch that sat against one wall, and wondered about sleeping there. But it was little more than an extra-wide chair. Nope. The bed was it. She shrugged off her light jacket as Jack shut the bathroom door and zipped open her duffle, wishing she had packet differently. While her sleepwear wasn't exactly the skimpy lingerie she might have brought if she had gone through with Pete, a worn tee shirt and men's cotton boxer shorts wasn't exactly the most modest things either.
Especially when the man was Jack O'Neill.
Jack came out of the bathroom, and she didn't dare glance up as he brushed past her. "I'll just change out here," he said as she headed for the door.
She just nodded and closed herself inside. Sam stalled as long as she could. She changed...folded her clothes... brushed her teeth... her hair... washed her face... and when there was nothing left to do, she opened the door.
And nearly died.
Jack sat at the top of the bed, his back against the headboard. One arm was raised behind his head as a support, while the other rested on his raised knee – holding the television remote. He was dressed in flannel pajama bottoms that looked like they had seen better days... the cotton nubbed and looking comfortably worn... and a white tee shirt. The way the shirt lay across his chest and abdomen, it was easy to see how well years of military training had treated his body.
He looked up and Sam froze, her folded clothes held against her chest. She suddenly felt as good as naked. Jack's lips parted, as if he meant to say something, but nothing came out. Sam turned away, crouched to set her clothes on top of the duffle he had moved to the floor, and busied herself with the search for some unknown object in the side pockets.
"Do you want to watch TV, or just get some sleep?" he finally asked.
"Sleep is fine," she said quickly, not daring to trust herself to look at him and talk at the same time.
She couldn't even look his way as he stood off the bed and pulled back the covers. Sam couldn't believe they were being so... cavalier... about sharing a bed. Jack was right... they had slept beside each other before. To keep warm. To protect one another. But there were no extenuating circumstances here other than a fully booked hotel.
Sam slipped between the cool sheets and settled down into the pillow, still not daring to look at him. His weight sank into the mattress and she felt the bed shift. Her body was so hot she wanted to toss back the blankets, but needed the cover they allowed.
"Do you want another pillow?" he asked.
"No," she said quickly. "I'm fine. Thank you."
Jack stretched out beside her and she felt the heat of his body reach her beneath their shared covers.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!
He flicked off the light and the room fell into darkness. Sam lay perfectly still, her hands folded together on her stomach, holding her breath.
"Good night, Sam."
She pressed her eyes closed. "Good night."
"I don't think I can eat another bite," Sam said with a moan, leaning back in her chair. "This food is amazing."
"Not exactly the Cheyenne Mountain mess." Jack took a sip from his glass of wine.
Sam looked at him, and realized she couldn't recall ever seeing him drink wine. Beer. The hard stuff... but never a glass of Merlot. He brought the goblet away from his lips and looked at her.
"What?"
"Nothing... I just... "She shook her head. "Nothing."
He watched her for several heartbeats. The same slow, easy, heated stare he had placed her under many times in the last few years, as if he saw more when he looked at her than anyone else could see. Her insides heated and liquefied, and she finally forced herself to look away.
"Sure you don't have more room?"
He picked up the plate of chocolate cake that had been sitting at the corner of the table for the last ten minutes – taunting her. It was three layers high with whipped mousse between each moist layer – frosting a good half-inch thick with rosettes and shaved chocolate on the top. Despite herself, she licked her lips.
"I don't think I can..."
He knew her weakness, and she knew he knew. That's why he had asked for the cake at the beginning of the meal, she'd bet her life on it. So that at the end, when she said she couldn't eat more, he'd have it ready.
Evil man.
He took his fork and sliced away a bite, holding it midair in front of his lips, watching her as he opened his mouth and ate the cake. She could only stare. The frosting clung to his lips, and he nodded as he chewed.
"Good cake."
"Looks more like a religious experience to me," she said, looking down at the plate.
"Religion has nothing to do with this."
He cut through the dessert again, balancing a bit piece on the tongs of his fork. Then he set his elbow on the table and held the utensil out to her. She looked from his face, to the cake, and back to him. He raised his brow and nodded once.
"You know you want it."
Well, if I can't have one decadent fantasy, I might as well indulge in the other.
Sam leaned in hesitantly, holding his gaze, and opened her mouth. Jack gently fed her the cake, and she closed her lips on the fork, letting him slide it free. The creamy frosting and mousse hit her tongue and she closed her eyes, humming in ecstasy.
As she chewed it, she mumbled, opening her eyes to see him watching her. His eyelids were heavy over his dark eyes, and his gaze settled on her mouth.
"What?" he asked.
Sam covered her lips with her fingers, hiding her tongue as she licked her lips. "I said 'orgasm by chocolate'."
His gaze shot up to meet hers.
"Samantha Carter? Is that you?"
Sam quickly sat back and pressed a linen napkin to her lips. She looked up to see a familiar face walking towards them through the hotel's restaurant. A smile hit her lips.
"Jane? Is that you?"
She stood and embraced Jane Bellows, one of her closest friends besides Erin while in college. When she leaned back, she looked down at the woman's burgeoning waistline and mentally put her at about seven months pregnant.
"My God, Jane. You're about to bust."
Jane laughed, putting a hand against her swelling side. "I feel like it, too. Samantha, you look wonderful. It's so good to see you."
"It's good to see you, too." Embarrassment hit her when she realized her lack of manners. She turned back to the table, but jumped when she found Jack standing right behind her. He smiled down at her. "Um, Jane... this is my... um...Colonel..." Suddenly, she had found the ability to speak, and heat rushed her cheeks.
Jack's hand pressed against the small of her back, and she nearly gasped. He extended his other to Jane. "Colonel Jack O'Neill."
Jane took his hand, and arched one approving eyebrow as she looked back at Sam. "Erin said you were bringing a guest. None of us imagined one quite so... definitely of the male persuasion. Nice to meet you, Colonel. Or can I just call you Jack?"
"Jack is fine."
"Have you seen Erin yet?" Jane asked of Sam.
She shook her head, still keenly aware of Jack's hand on the small of her back. He had touched her like that before... not often... but before, and yet the touch was different when felt through layers of mission uniforms and staff-weapon resistant vests. Sam shook off her wandering thoughts and did her best to focus.
"Um, no. We only just checked in. I just figured I would see her tomorrow."
"Oh, at the cookout! That's right." Jane looked at Jack. "Erin will love meeting you, Jack. She's been telling Sam for years it was time she found someone. And you're definitely someone."
Sam's face was going to burst into flames any second now... she just knew it.
"Well, I'm heading up to my room. Phillip is watching the kids, and that usually spells trouble. It was very nice to meet you, Jack, and we'll see you both tomorrow at the barbeque."
Sam embraced Jane one more time before her old friend walked ... waddled... towards the foyer. She remembered now that Jane had two children already, with the third obviously on the way. Regretfully, she admitted to herself that she hadn't kept in as close contact with them over the last ten years as she should have. But the Stargate Program was such a huge part of her life... the simplest thing like making a phone call or sending an email seemed hard to fit in.
She turned to see Jack setting some bills on the table and sliding his wallet into his back pocket. "Oh, Jack... let me..."
"Nope," was his only answer, giving her no room for argument.
In silent agreement, they left the restaurant and headed for the elevators. As the doors closed, Sam chewed on her lower lip, trying to work up enough guts to speak. She crossed her arms over her body and rocked from the balls of her feet back to her heels, and forward again.
"What..." Jack asked.
Sam jumped, and glanced at him. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, his hand on the stainless steel rail that ran around three sides. Without even trying, he was the sexiest man she had ever seen. She blinked and looked away.
"I'm sorry about that."
"About what?"
"Jane. She has a tendency to ... gush... and pretty much speaks her opinion on whatever she wants."
"Aaah," he said with a dismissive wave. "No big shakes."
The elevator bumped to a stop and the doors opened. Jack had the room key in his hand as they reached their door, and after opening it, stepped aside to let her in. The reality of the situation hit her again in one overwhelming wave. She quickly glanced at the small couch that sat against one wall, and wondered about sleeping there. But it was little more than an extra-wide chair. Nope. The bed was it. She shrugged off her light jacket as Jack shut the bathroom door and zipped open her duffle, wishing she had packet differently. While her sleepwear wasn't exactly the skimpy lingerie she might have brought if she had gone through with Pete, a worn tee shirt and men's cotton boxer shorts wasn't exactly the most modest things either.
Especially when the man was Jack O'Neill.
Jack came out of the bathroom, and she didn't dare glance up as he brushed past her. "I'll just change out here," he said as she headed for the door.
She just nodded and closed herself inside. Sam stalled as long as she could. She changed...folded her clothes... brushed her teeth... her hair... washed her face... and when there was nothing left to do, she opened the door.
And nearly died.
Jack sat at the top of the bed, his back against the headboard. One arm was raised behind his head as a support, while the other rested on his raised knee – holding the television remote. He was dressed in flannel pajama bottoms that looked like they had seen better days... the cotton nubbed and looking comfortably worn... and a white tee shirt. The way the shirt lay across his chest and abdomen, it was easy to see how well years of military training had treated his body.
He looked up and Sam froze, her folded clothes held against her chest. She suddenly felt as good as naked. Jack's lips parted, as if he meant to say something, but nothing came out. Sam turned away, crouched to set her clothes on top of the duffle he had moved to the floor, and busied herself with the search for some unknown object in the side pockets.
"Do you want to watch TV, or just get some sleep?" he finally asked.
"Sleep is fine," she said quickly, not daring to trust herself to look at him and talk at the same time.
She couldn't even look his way as he stood off the bed and pulled back the covers. Sam couldn't believe they were being so... cavalier... about sharing a bed. Jack was right... they had slept beside each other before. To keep warm. To protect one another. But there were no extenuating circumstances here other than a fully booked hotel.
Sam slipped between the cool sheets and settled down into the pillow, still not daring to look at him. His weight sank into the mattress and she felt the bed shift. Her body was so hot she wanted to toss back the blankets, but needed the cover they allowed.
"Do you want another pillow?" he asked.
"No," she said quickly. "I'm fine. Thank you."
Jack stretched out beside her and she felt the heat of his body reach her beneath their shared covers.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!
He flicked off the light and the room fell into darkness. Sam lay perfectly still, her hands folded together on her stomach, holding her breath.
"Good night, Sam."
She pressed her eyes closed. "Good night."