For several minutes, their kitchen transformed into a testing ground for Jack's endeavor to free himself from the tight and secure ropes Sam had expertly tied around him, anchoring him to the chair. Meanwhile, Sam persistently engaged in the arduous task of distracting his mind, using caresses and sweet endearments whispered tantalizingly close to his ear. Her hands remained strategically above his neck to avoid complicating matters further. The air in the room grew thick with tension, and both were panting heavily, though not necessarily for the same reasons.
Jack had managed to work one foot free when Sam playfully nipped at his neck. While releasing the other foot, she interrupted him with a fervent kiss, catching him off guard. His brain seemed to short-circuit, and his body stilled. Sam wasn't playing fair, but neither was he. Despite being restrained, Jack poured everything into the kiss, leaving Sam flushed when they reluctantly parted for a breath.
He wore a triumphant smile, and she gasped for air. Seizing the opportunity, Jack swiftly freed the other foot, accomplishing his escape even as the lingering taste of their passionate kiss hung in the air.
Now faced with freeing his hands and arms from the remaining ropes, Jack continued his determined efforts. Sam had taken a step back, leaning against their kitchen table, observing his progress.
"So, no more distractions?" he teased, a smile on his lips.
She blushed intensely, her face and neck both flushed as she continued to watch him.
"No," she replied, her gaze unwavering.
Raising an eyebrow, Jack shifted his shoulder forcefully, causing the rope to give a little more. Progress was being made, but it demanded time. He regarded her with curiosity.
"Aren't you worried that my mind will slip into full black ops mode?" he asked, twisting his body again.
Sam shook her head, placing one hand on her neck. Jack scrutinized her closely.
"Are you okay?" he suddenly inquired, a note of concern in his voice.
Sam wetted her lips, maintaining her fixed gaze on him.
"Honey?" he called, growing more concerned.
She continued to look at him, her blue eyes hardly blinking.
"Sam?" he called again, now genuinely worried. Something was amiss. "What is it?" he pressed, forcefully working on the ropes.
Her blush deepened, and Jack sensed an unusual hesitation in her.
"What if I asked you to stop?" Sam finally voiced the question lingering in her mind since she first saw her husband tied to a chair in their kitchen, exerting himself to break free.
Baffled, Jack halted his movements.
"You want me to stop?" he asked, a hint of confusion.
"I might," she replied, biting her lip.
Jack blinked, realizing he might have missed a crucial element in his determination to escape. He wasn't quite catching up with her, which happened sometimes.
"Why?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.
Sam continued biting her lip, her hand moving from her neck to her front, pausing on her breastbone.
Jack swallowed, sensing a shift in the atmosphere.
"Because it's damn hot," she confessed.
Jack's eyes widened in surprise. That thought hadn't crossed his mind, but he could see the appeal. He swallowed, processing the unexpected turn.
"You like to see me tied up?" he inquired.
Sam nodded slowly, her admission catching him off guard. It wasn't what he expected from his wife, but he could play along.
Oh yes, he could.
"Like this?" he asked, deliberately moving his free legs.
Sam's breath hitched, her eyes fixed on his torso entwined with the ropes she had skillfully fastened.
"Yeah," she affirmed, her response heavy with desire.
"What do you want to do?" Jack asked, remaining still.
Sam took a deep breath, preventing her brain from short-circuiting.
"Touch you," she admitted.
"Okay, go ahead," he granted, giving her permission.
Things had indeed taken an unexpected and erotic turn, a path Jack was more than willing to follow. However, Sam seemed to hesitate now, standing beside their kitchen table.
"Colonel, touch me," Jack almost commanded.
Sam's eyes widened with his military tone, and she moved closer to him. Her hand slowly ascended to his chest, still encased in the ropes. Her fingers began to trace along the bindings, avoiding his T-shirt and exposed skin. Jack nearly held his breath as her fingers continued their delicate dance, moving upwards to his neck and trailing down his back. Circling the chair, her fingers caressed his hair with a feather-light touch he almost didn't feel.
Moving around to face him, their eyes locked—blue into brown—she slowly settled onto his lap. Jack couldn't suppress a groan as her hands cupped his face, and she kissed him passionately on the mouth. It felt intoxicating, and he was utterly captivated by the unexpected turn of events.
Involuntarily, while she was kissing him, Jack's hands, tied behind his back, desperately struggled to break free. He yearned to touch her, feel her body's contours, hold her close. She pressed her body even closer to his, and Jack couldn't help but moan.
"Sam..." he uttered, his voice strained.
She maintained her hold on his face, their breaths so close that they seemed to meld into one.
"What?" she asked, nipping his lower lip.
Jack closed his eyes, attempting to regain focus. He needed focus.
"You have to untie me," he hoarsely demanded.
She shifted her head slightly back, meeting his gaze.
"Why?" she inquired.
Jack swallowed, discomfort settling in as she sat on his lap.
"You know why," he replied, lowering his eyes.
Her eyes followed his gaze, and a sly smile played on her lips.
"Oh, you mean this?" she teased, moving her hips provocatively in his lap.
Jack cursed, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. Her hands glided to his neck, tracing slow, tantalizing circles. Jack opened his eyes once more.
"If I untie you, you lose, General. Do you want to lose?" she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear.
Jack cared little for the game at this point. He only wanted to touch her and address the growing tension between them.
"I don't mind, Colonel," he ranted.
Sam's tongue traced his jaw, and he groaned in response. She gave him a quick kiss on the lips before standing up. Jack swallowed, watching her move towards one of the drawers. He attempted to slow down his breathing, anticipation building. She turned around, holding a knife in her hand—a large, sharp knife. Jack swallowed again. She was a military-trained officer skilled in handling knives. After all, she had triumphed over Turghan in one of her early SG-1 missions.
Nonetheless, he couldn't help but swallow nervously as she approached him with the knife.
"Are you sure?" she asked, placing the point of the knife near the rope next to his right shoulder.
He nodded.
"I will need an actual answer on this, General," she insisted, the knife poised.
"Yes, cut the ropes," he affirmed.
Sam moved to the back of his chair and skillfully cut the ropes on his wrists. Jack slowly began to move his hands, massaging his wrists. She placed the knife on the kitchen table and waited.
Jack remained seated, uncertain if his legs would be steady enough to support him.
"Now what?" she asked, looking at him.
Jack couldn't help but smile.
"Now you can come back and resume your position, Colonel," Jack said with a playful smile.
Sam blushed, her cheeks warming at his suggestion. Jack sat on his knees, watching her expectantly with his hands now free.
"I'm waiting, Colonel," he teased.
Sam blushed even more but slowly moved to where he was seated. Before, she would slide onto his lap, but this time, Jack's hands wrapped around her waist as she settled in.
"Much better," he declared, still smiling.
"If you say so," she responded, touching his shoulders.
"Now, where were we?" Jack asked, raising an eyebrow.
Sam straightened her back, and Jack's right hand moved beneath the slightly oversized T-shirt she wore—a shirt that used to belong to him. She had a habit of stealing his clothes.
"This is much better indeed," Jack commented, his hand pressing her against him.
They resumed their fervent kissing, lost in the heat of the moment. In their kitchen, the cut ropes lay forgotten on the floor around the chair, and they remained oblivious to the world, immersed in their intimate connection.
Later, as they lay in bed, Jack idly played with Sam's long hair, and a small laugh escaped him. Nestled in his arms, Sam looked up, a puzzled expression on her face.
"What?" she inquired, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest hair.
"Remember to send a fruit basket and a thank-you note to that guy in Iowa," Jack chuckled.
Sam lifted her head, confusion written all over her face. Jack planted a quick kiss on her lips. They had spent the rest of the morning in bed, intimately connected.
"For a very unexpected direction in our marriage," he explained with a broad smile.
Sam blushed deeply, burying her face in his neck. Jack burst into laughter once again.
"What?! I'm not complaining, honey. At all," he reassured her, gently caressing her head.
Sam mumbled something imperceptible into his neck.
"You have to say that again," he prompted.
She moved her head, still blushing.
"Next thing, you'll be asking me to cook lunch," she muttered.
Jack kissed her deeply. When he released her lips, he held her chin gently.
"Sweetheart, you handle the ropes in our marriage, and I handle the cooking. That's the deal," he declared with a smile. And then, he kissed her again.
Ten days later, the man in Iowa received a large fruit basket from the Air Force with a thank-you note and an unrecognizable signature. Surely a prank. He was used to it by now. After that article, nothing surprised him anymore.