Title: Time Bomb
Genre: Smut
Pairing: This goes without saying… but if I must… Jack/Sam
Length: short
Spoilers: None
Timeline: Season 5
Synopsis: A Major and a Colonel stuck together in a descent pod… what else is there to do?
Archive: Sam and Jack, SJfic… if you’d like to post it somewhere else, just let me know. I’m sure I’ll say yes, just want to know where.
Feedback: YES!
Disclaimer: I make no money for this. Wish I did.. but oh, well. No copyright infringement intended.
Special Thanks: Jen, as always, you are a great BETA. This was written to cheer us both up after a No Good, Terrible, Awful, Very Bad day for both of us.
“Carter,” Jack nearly hissed through clenched teeth. “Don’t . . . don’t move around so much.”
“I can’t help it. I’ve almost got it out.”
She shifted again, and Jack brought his arm up to cover his face, thankful the darkness of the descent pod kept her from seeing him. He rested his head on the padding behind him, the position almost necessary with the angle the pod now sat at.
“I’ve almost… got… it…” She jerked, and her backside rubbed across his groin.
Jack pressed his eyelids tighter. **This was a damn cruel twist of fate. DAMN cruel!**
“Carter, I swear to **God**…”
His hands moved involuntarily – because, if he had **thought** about
doing it, even for a second, he’d have stopped – to her hips, his fingers
curling into the fabric of her BDU’s. He could feel the point of her hip
bone beneath his touch, surrounded by soft Sam, and as soon as his brain registered the sensation his blood flashed hot. Sam stilled on his lap, and he heard her small gasp.
Right then – at that moment – he could have taken his hands away and neither of them would have ever said a thing. But he didn’t. It felt too damn good to have her weight pressing against him. Her hitched breathing sounded too good. The way the scent of her shampoo infused the air in the pod smelled too good.
Her feet were planted against the back of the pod, positioned outside his knees, and for all intents and purposes she sat in his lap facing away. It had been the only position that made sense until she could jimmy open the pod doors. But now… at this very moment… this position was torture.
Then he heard her curse, and something tapped his leg before he heard a clatter near the bottom of the pod.
“Damn it. I dropped my knife.”
“Well, you’d better get it, Carter,” Jack said, trying to release his clenched jaw. “Or, we’ll be stuck in here forever.”
**God, how he wished he could see her!** Somehow she managed to bend forward to search the base of the pod for the pocket knife. Her hands skimmed over his ankles and calves, searching blindly in the dark. Her bottom shifted on top of him, and Jack couldn’t hold in the small groan.
Her body stilled, and neither of them breathed for several beats of his racing heart. Then her hand curled around the inside of his thigh, right above his knee, and as she contortioned herself to lean back again, her fingertips ran up the inside of his leg.
Was she really doing this? Her fingers plucked at the strap that held his Zat holster, scraping dangerously close to…
“Carter…”
“Yes, sir?”
Her voice was soft, almost husky, and nearly his undoing. Jack pressed his fingers hard into her hips, and purposefully moved her backside down the painfully hard erection she had created.
She gasped, her fingers curling into his thigh. He gripped tighter, moving her again. With one hand still firmly holding her hip, he slid the other along the top of her thigh to the warmth emanating between her legs. Jack massaged the tone muscles, and Sam hummed. He swore he could feel the vibration move through both of them.
Then she was moving, struggling to turn over to face him, and Jack fumbled around in the dark to help her. She tugged at his tee shirt, pulling it free of his waistband, and when her warm hands touched his skin, Jack nearly choked. She slid down his body, and he felt in the dark to find her arms, her shoulders, following their flow up to push his fingers into her hair as she lowered her head and pressed her lips to his stomach.
“Come here,” he choked out, gripping her arms to pull her up.
The pod was cramped. Really cramped. What Jack wouldn’t do for another three, maybe four, cubic feet of maneuverability. But they moved together, and their mouths found each other in the dark just before Jack was sure he’d die if he didn’t kiss her. Her mouth was hot and open, and she devoured him with the same urgency and hunger he felt. Jack cupped the back of her head with his hand, holding her in place for maximum kiss depth, their tongues tangling in an electrified dance.
Stripping wasn’t an option. His logical mind knew it. But at that moment, another head entirely was doing all the thinking. Jack pushed her black tank top up over her breasts, taking her bra with it, under her full breasts filled his palm. Sam was a well-endowed woman, and he groaned as he squeezed and kneaded her, his thumbs circling her hard nipples.
“Oh. God. Jack…” she said against his mouth.
Sam straddled his hips, the narrow space forcing the juncture of her thighs to encase him, and she moved against him in a slow rhythm as he fought for some semblance of control.
“Sweet… ah… oh, god, Sam…”
The soft click of his belt buckle being released whispered in the air as he felt her hands between them. The air was getting hot from their labored breathing, and a sweet scent filled his senses. His temples throbbed, and he wondered briefly if they were running low on oxygen. **Ah, who the hell cared… I go out, I go out smiling…**
Sam deftly undid the belt, and Jack hissed when she opened his BDU’s and unceremoniously pushed them partially down his hips. He might be her Colonel, but at that moment she was in control.
And he liked it…
Then her fist closed around his penis, and stars flashed behind his closed eyelids. She squeezed him, slowly releasing the pressure, then squeezed again. Jack wanted to tell her it was good… great… but the synapses in his brain were firing so fast the English language was a total loss. Somehow, and even if asked later under the risk of certain death he wouldn’t remember, he unbuckled her belt and got his hand inside her BDU’s.
To the Promised Land.
She called out his name when he slid two fingers inside. Her hips bucked against him, matching the rhythm he wished he could recreate with something other than his hand. But, right now… his hand was doing just fine. She was slick and hot… so damn hot he thought she’s scorch his skin.
Together, they found a cadence… a steady, frustratingly restrictive dance… and they moved together. Sam moved against his hips, his hand inside her panties and his fingers inside her heat. His thumb played across her clitoris, and every few strokes she would gasp. And her fingers caressed, massaged and milked him with each grind.
“Jack…” she whispered. “Jack… JACK!”
Then she came, her body shuddering over him and her muscles tightening around his hand in waves of release. Jack didn’t stop, but continued the stroke until her soft whimper told him she could take no more. Her hand stilled on him, squeezing hard as her orgasm shook through her.
Sam leaned into him, her breasts skimming his bare chest where his tee shirt had been shoved high, and pressed a long kiss to his lips before she slid down his body again forcing him to withdraw his hand. Jack kept his hands on her, wanting and needing the contact as her hand – the one **not** firmly gripping his penis – slid over his chest.
Her hot mouth enveloped him, and Jack slammed his head back into the cushion behind him. Sam’s tongue played sweet music over his skin, her lips sliding around him as she slowly raised and lowered her head.
Jack tried to speak again, the only sounds coming from his throat choked whispers and deep groans. He closed his eyes, imagining the vision of Sam Carter… doing just what she was doing… oh, Christ!
He pressed his fingers into her hair and tried not to buck his hips as she pulled him closer and closer to the edge of implosion, until finally all control was gone and …
“I hear Jonas coming.”
Jack blinked. “What?”
“I’ve almost got the door unjammed, but I’m pretty sure I hear Jonas’ voice. He and Teal’c must have spotted the pod.”
Jack groaned and covered his eyes with his arm. Sam was still fiddling with the damn door, her back to him and her back**side** firmly planted on his hips. No half-stripped Major… no name groaning … no sweet orgasms around his fingers… no… **Don’t even think about it!!!!**
“Something wrong, sir?”
“Nope. Nope… I’m good,” he said, his jaw clenched. **That’s what you get, O’Neill, for letting your mind wander!**
Now, he just had to hope and pray to God that Carter didn’t move enough to realize just what kind of timebomb she was sitting on…
