Chapter Fourteen

His hands on her hips were the only thing keeping her off the ground. He knew it, knew he had to support her, and moved one of his arms back around her waist. The fingers of that hand found their way under her shirt, splaying against her stomach and keeping her snugly against him. The other hand went to her neck, threading through her hair and moving her head so he could have better access to her neck.

She clutched at his arm, unprepared for how overwhelming her feelings were. She leaned back, letting her head rest against his as his lips moved across her skin. She wanted to stay there forever, to let him explore her body, to give him all the control. But at the same time, she wanted more. She wanted to kiss him, to taste him, to make his knees buckle from how wonderful she could make him feel. Her desperation gave her the strength to stand once again. He let her turn to face him. He didn't move a muscle; she couldn't even be sure he noticed. His one hand was on her back after she turned, but it still kept her pressed into him. His face was still buried in her neck. It was phenomenal; it was everything she'd ever imagined. But it wasn't enough, not nearly. She reached up with shaking hands, pulling his face towards hers.

He was confused at first, his eyes opening as he followed her lead without hesitation. Her hands felt the moment when he caught on, angling his head a bit and moving toward her lips. Jack was one of those rare people who were able to completely fascinate her. Whenever she was in a room with him, it seemed like he was all that existed. He could be the whole universe for all she knew. She'd learned early on, during that first exchange with him, that she had to dissociate herself from the situation. Otherwise he would take up all of her senses. She could see him, smell him, hear him, feel him, wondering what it would be like to taste him; he could completely overwhelm her. Even when she was trying to be careful, he would occasionally catch her off-guard and she would be stunned simply by his presence.

She actually thought she would pass out from sensory overload when his tongue delved into her mouth. It was the last piece of the puzzle to being entirely consumed by him. She held onto him for dear life, willing herself to absorb every moment, every feeling. Never in her life had a kiss reduced her to such hysteria. She had to keep reminding herself that was all it was, which was amazing to her since sex with other men couldn't compare with simply kissing Jack. She wanted to cry out from the torrent of everything she was feeling.

She knew. She finally knew. What it felt like to kiss him. What it felt like to run her fingers through his hair. What it felt like to have him hold her so close she could feel every inch of his decidedly male body. What it felt like to not care if the world ended right that minute. Her feelings for him weren't some silly fantasy that had been allowed to get out of control through years of waiting and pondering. No, she really did love him. There was no way he could make her feel that way if she didn't love him. No man had ever compared because she'd never really loved any other man. Being in love, real, undeniable love, made it breathtaking.

Unfortunately, the fact that it was real meant they had to be more careful. If they did something stupid and ruined it, they could never get it back and she would never get over it. Just over twenty-four hours earlier, the idea that Jack would kiss her had been as far-fetched as Thor giving them a baby. They'd been trapped in an odd situation, breeding a familiarity that wasn't normally there - that much had become clear during their discussion while they were making dinner. They hadn't discussed what to do, what they wanted to do, what they could do. They had only acted without thinking. Granted, she'd thought about doing it, she just hadn't really thought it was a possibility so she hadn't exactly ironed out the best course of action. Jack probably hadn't put any thought into it either. She couldn't leave an important decision like that up to someone who wasn't going to think about it or to what felt good physically in the moment.

He was kissing her, holding her, with a certain desperation, like he was afraid she'd get away, like he was afraid she'd stop if he gave her a chance to think about it.

He pulled back the tiniest bit. "Stop thinking, Carter." His lips immediately reattached to hers. It wasn't an order; it was a joke. She knew it. She loved that he knew her well enough to sense the change in her participation as pieces of her mind withdrew to resolve the conundrum, pieces that he evidently preferred to be kissing him fervently.

She realized, however, that he must have put some thought into it, enough to know that she'd stop him if she was able to think which, to her, meant there had to be a damn good reason for her to stop him, even if she couldn't fathom what the reason was. But even after the thought occurred to her, it still didn't really register. It just kind of rolled around in her head like loose change in the bottom of her purse.

It was all Jack's fault, she decided. His attempt to crawl into her skin through her mouth wasn't working, so he lifted her up, sliding her onto the counter. He was able to step closer then, moving between her legs as his hands moved to hold her face. Her legs reacted exactly the way he'd obviously planned, wrapping around him without permission from her brain and anchoring him to her. She had a much better angle to reach him and wound her arms over his shoulders, pulling his mouth harder against hers as he pulled her hips tighter against his. She even had a momentary thought about appreciating how very well they worked as a team. Yeah, she thought as he continued to kiss her senseless, teamwork really was everything it was cracked up to be.

His lips slipped off hers, trailing down her neck once again. She tilted her head back, letting him nip at the skin he found while she thought about how good it felt. But as she was thinking about how good it felt, she remembered that he didn't want her to think and then she promptly remembered it probably wasn't good that he didn't want her to think.

She needed to think. It was what she did. She was good at it. If she couldn't arrive at a carefully planned, decisive answer to a question, she kept at it until she did. And she always with the carefully chosen decision, even if it wasn't the one her heart wanted her to pick.

Bad. It was bad. What, she wasn't sure. But something was bad. And she had a good idea that it was something that felt really good.

Her thoughts were slowed as Jack's hands found their way up her sides, dancing along the delicate skin that only a choice few men had ever touched. She'd certainly never imagined that her CO would ever be the next one, the one to put those others to shame.

And that, regrettably, was the thought that set off the alarm bells.

She tensed, feeling a nervous knot tightening in her stomach. Of course she'd never thought her CO would be feeling her up. Of course she'd never imagined her CO would be the one to make her body come alive like it never had. Of course not. Because that was a crazy, irresponsible thought and Samantha Carter did not suffer crazy, irresponsible thoughts well.

His whole body tensed with her, his own mind probably telling him that something was wrong. She hated herself for doing that to him, for being the one to stop it.

"Jack. Stop."

He had known. He must have. Because he pulled back immediately to look her in the eyes. His eyes were hooded, dark, half-drugged from passion. His hands were still, frozen on her waist. He said nothing. His eyes drifted closed and she could practically hear him screaming silently at her to change her mind, to not say what she was trying to find the strength to say.

"We should talk about this first."

His eyes opened and searched hers for a long time. "Why? What's the point? You want to get to know each other better? What are you afraid of?"

She wanted to agree with him, to believe her doubts were silly, to know her fears were ungrounded. But she couldn't brush them off. That wasn't who she was. She couldn't get swept up in passion and regret her mistakes later. If she made a mistake, she never wanted it to have been her own fault something she could have avoided. That was why it was so important for her to think things through.

She felt stupid, realizing that their bodies were still very much in contact even though the mood had soured. Her arms fell from his shoulders at the same time as her legs released his body. "We should think about this. Not about if we want it, but if it's a good idea, if we can really make this decision right now." The more she spoke, the more her mind found its equilibrium. She felt better about stopping him since it was becoming clear to her that not stopping him would have been a disaster. "We've been through a lot in a day, Jack." Her mind flashed to her daughter, who'd been sleeping in the next room until that moment when she started to cry. "We have Cheyenne to think about. If we make a rash decision and it doesn't work out like we think, we're still going to have a daughter to raise."

He moved to the side, propping his arms on the counter and dropping his head. "It's hardly a rash decision if it's been seven years in the making, Carter."

"It hasn't been seven years. This wasn't something we were thinking about two days ago."

"Maybe you weren't." He stood up, stepping further away. "I'm not going to stand here and try to win this argument. There's no point." He took another step. "I'm going to-"

"Jack, don't." She didn't want him to run away. She wanted to talk. She wanted him to convince her the way he was obviously convinced.

He caught her eyes. The heavy-lidded passion was gone. She was looking at her CO, her friend, once again. "I'm not going to cajole you to have sex with me, Carter." He stepped back again, landing him in the doorway. "You need to think. Go ahead. Think all you want. I need air." His voice was calm and controlled. His words weren't angry.

She heard the slamming of her front door and then the sound of the truck starting. The tires squealed as his actions betrayed the anger he'd tried to hide. Carter dropped her face into her hands, trying to will the tears away as Cheyenne wailed in the next room.

She couldn't be sure he was ever coming back.

Consequences.5