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One Hot Night

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Sam kicked her way out of her sleeping bag and huffed her dissatisfaction with the level of coolness it helped her achieve. Her BDU pants felt heavy against her skin. She could feel the oppressive heat of the planet closing in around her as the humidity seeped into the tent. For the moment, she was alone. She didn't know how much longer that would last. The colonel's watch would be up at some point and he'd come into the tent, but the heat, it was too much. She couldn't take anymore.

She shucked her pants kicking them off and bunching them down into her sleeping bag with her feet. She immediately felt cooler in her t-shirt and panties, and she thanked goodness for government issue because at least she was covered completely. Because pretty soon, her commanding officer was going to make his way into the tent and find her lounging around in her underwear. It was a damn fine thing that said underwear were, all things considered, modest enough to keep things relatively sane between them.

It had been just four years that they'd been a team so it wasn't like they hadn't seen each other in various states of undress anyway, she reasoned. She was sure he'd caught a glimpse of her in her underwear before. So maybe she'd never been blatantly laid out when he'd wandered into their tent, but this night, this planet, something just had to give.

She hiked her shirt up, exposing her belly and tucked it up under her breasts. It wasn't enough. With a growl she pulled it over her head leaving her in her sports bra. Okay, so maybe this was pushing it, her level of undress, but it had to be a hundred and fifteen degrees at over ninety five percent humidity. With her clothes off she finally started to find some relief. She still felt uncomfortably hot with her sleeping bag at her back, but she wasn't willing to lie on directly on the slick fabric of the tent knowing it would be uncomfortable to lie in beads of her own sweat.

She ran her fingers through the sheen of sweat that rose up on her belly and reveled in the wake of goosebumps that trailed her fingers. Those sure felt good under the circumstances. In an attempt to go back to sleep she carefully arranged her limbs so they weren't touching each other or her body and she'd just closed her eyes when she heard the tent flaps rustle.

She opened her eyes to see the colonel standing there in the opening, flashlight in hand. He stood there, gaping at her for a long moment and then stepped the rest of the way into the tent and set the flashlight down and switched it into lantern mode so it illuminated the space. "I think it's getting hotter out there," he finally said as he stripped his BDU jacket off. How he still had it on, she had no idea.

He tugged his t-shirt out of his pants and she saw, in the low light, a thin strip of tanned skin appear then disappear. Then, he was pulling the shirt over his head. She couldn't remember him ever taking his shirt off in a shared tent with her before so her body went on alert. She'd been aware of him for some time. But being confronted by his bare chest just made the awareness something strong and singular that took up residence low in her belly and made her tingle.

He worked his way out of his combat boots and socks and she noted the long lines of his feet and filed the picture away for later. Then his hands dropped to the button of his trousers. He stopped and gave her a long slow look from head to toe then back up again. "I'd ask if you mind, but..."

She chuckled lowly. "It's too damn hot to mind, sir."

As he pushed the pants down his long, toned legs she had the idle thought that the alien baklava during the party earlier might have been a bad idea because the arousal that began to stir within her felt more powerful than was natural. Not that she was complaining.

But then he was standing in front of her in nothing more than dog tags and boxer briefs and she felt her mouth go dry. From her vantage point on her back he looked impossibly tall and very imposing and she felt another bolt of awareness fire through her. She shifted a little so she could press her legs together, cognizant, suddenly, of the ache that had taken up residence at the apex of her thighs. His eyes followed her movements and she wondered if maybe he wasn't having his own troubles with the sticky, sweet dessert they'd partaken of earlier.

She remembered watching him lick the honey off his fingers and barely checked a whimper. He turned towards her slightly and the light highlighted the bulge in his shorts and that, on top of the memory of his tongue, was enough to make her flood her panties and choke on a groan that got his attention.

"You okay, Carter?"

"Fine, sir," she ground out.

"I guess we should be glad this is a friendly planet."

"Why's that?"

"Because," he said with a chuckle, "if we had to run, we'd both be in trouble right about now."

She glanced down her body, took in all the exposed skin and smiled. "Yes, sir, I guess you're right. It's just-"

"- so hot," he finished for her. "It wouldn't be so bad if it weren't for-"

"- the humidity," she said with a nod as he sunk down inelegantly onto his sleeping bag. She couldn't believe the innocuous conversation they were having while she was so turned on she ached and they were both lazying around in their underwear. How was this so comfortable and yet so arousing all at the same time?

He propped himself up on his side and one elbow and left the lantern on between them, his eyes continuing to rove over her from time to time. She liked the way it felt to be looked at by him. Oh, sure, she'd felt his eyes on her before, but this was different. This was without the barriers of clothing. This was... intimate. This was... if she could just see past the brilliant light of the lantern maybe she could see if he liked what he saw. She shook her head. She shouldn't be thinking of checking out her commanding officer's package to see if he liked looking at her in her underwear.

But then he reached out and moved the lantern from it's place between them to somewhere above their heads. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust but soon she could see him better. All of him. The long, hard planes of his body, the glint of his silver chest hair, the cut of his muscular thighs, everything in between... Her body tightened in all the right places and loosened in all the right places until she felt warm and ready for something she knew she wasn't going to get.

"So, again, why is it so damn hot on this planet?"

She tucked her hands up under her head, purposefully thrusting her breasts out, and hummed. "Do you really want to know, sir? Because it's a long answer having to do with two suns and the rotational axis of the planet."

"No," he said with a slow, rolling chuckle that turned her insides to goo, "I don't guess I do."

She turned onto her side and mirrored his pose. She watched his gaze fall to her breasts and let her top arm fall just right to squeeze things for maximum arrangement. Why was she torturing them both? It had to be that damn baklava. "I wish I hadn't have eaten that stuff," she muttered.

"The sticky, sweet stuff?" he questioned with a sage nod. "Yeah, it's been messing with me pretty hard, too."

"So you're..."

"Oh yeah," he said, lowly, his eyes rolling over her body causing her to arch towards him.

"Sir," she said breathlessly.

"Carter," he bit out, "be careful how you say my name."

"But I didn't say your name," she said coquettishly. Then she immediately felt contrite. "Oh god, sir, I'm sorry."

He waved her off, "It's okay. You're no better off than I am. It's that damn stuff. And the heat. We just need a little... relief."

She was dumbstruck. Did he just say what she thought he'd said? Her eyes snapped up to his and he looked a little panicked but his breathing was slow and even, giving nothing away. "Relief?" She asked slowly, quietly. She watched as a bead of sweat worked its way down his neck, she was transfixed.

"How much would you say that stuff is messing with us?"

She took stock of herself, of the supernatural hum in her body, the heightened awareness of him, way she could practically feel the blood pumping through his veins. "I'd say it's pretty bad, sir. But you seem to be handling it pretty well."

He groaned and flopped onto his back and that's when she saw how very, very hard he was.

"Oh," she breathed.

"Yeah," he said.

She squeezed her legs together again.

"And if you keep doing that, I'm not going to be responsible for what happens next."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"I can help it," he muttered. But not quietly enough.

And she was just enough on edge to call him on it. "Oh yeah?" Then, and if pressed she'd never be able to say why she did it, she hooked her thumb into the waistband of her panties and pushed.

His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist before she'd done more than expose the soft skin of her lower belly. "Carter, please," he pleaded with her, but she could feel the rasp of his fingertips on the silky skin of her belly. She arched against his fingers. He groaned. "Spread your legs."

It was so incongruous, going from Carter, please to spread your legs that her brain threatened to short circuit. "What?" She asked breathlessly.

"Spread. Your. Legs." He ground out. But it sounded like a request, not an order.

It made her want to do it. She shifted, knowing that as soon as she did something delicious was going to happen, she just didn't know what, exactly. She moved first her left leg, and then her right until there was space enough between her legs for whatever he might have had in mind.

She could hear him swallow. And then he was moving. Before she fully registered his movement he was kneeling between her legs.

She took a deep breath. She couldn't really believe this was happening. She knew it wouldn't be happening if it weren't for the alien dessert, but still, it felt incredibly surreal to know that their inhibitions were artificially lowered. And beyond that, to be completely unable to fight it was a strange feeling, indeed.

He placed one big, hot hand in the center of her belly, holding her flat against the ground, his hand moving up and down with each of her increasingly shallow breaths. Slowly, so slowly, he began dragging his hand down her body until the heel of his hand was pressing into her needy clit. She whimpered. She couldn't help it. He pressed into her rhythmically until her hips were lifting into him. And it was nice, god it was nice to have a man's hands on her, to have his hands on her. But it wasn't enough. "Please, sir," she goaded him.

He looked up at her and that's when she realized he'd been focused on the apex of her thighs. It made her flush with awareness. With his eyes boring into hers, he tucked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and started peeling them down her body. She lifted her hips, he shuffled backwards on his knees until he had her panties off and he held them for a moment in his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them. He tossed them towards his sleeping bag and she followed the arc they made through the air and watched them fall on to the place where he rested his head. It made her smile. Of course, she was going to have to repossess them, but it was such a guy thing for him to do.

She was still focused on those underwear when her attention was yanked back to him violently as he ran the pad of his thumb along the seam of her sex from clit to entrance. She felt the way her wetness was dripping from her and it made her self conscious. She couldn't close her legs, though, because he was knelt between them again. And now, he was looking down at her hungrily.

Suddenly, she knew exactly what came next and she was all too anxious for it to happen. She whimpered and lifted her hips. He licked his lips. Without a word to her, without asking permission, without voicing intent, he shifted until he was lying between her legs, pushing her thighs to accommodate his bulk. She propped herself up on her elbows, intent on watching as much as feeling.

And boy is she glad she did because as he leaned in to press the flat of his tongue against her clit he looked up and locked eyes with her. It felt much more intimate than a moment fuelled by an alien aphrodisiac.

He spread her open with his thumbs and flicked his tongue against her entrance until she tilted her hips, begging for him to return his attentions to her needy bundle of nerves. He wrapped his lips around her clit and suckled until she moaned. He shushed her, his lips against her sex, a tickling sensation that made her shudder.

Just as she was getting used to the feeling of his lips and tongue he pressed first one finger and then two slowly into her slick channel. As he coaxed her to dizzying heights with his tongue on her clit, he stroked the sensitive spot inside her that made her gasp with pleasure. She couldn't focus on any one sensation.

She was so aware of his long, beautiful fingers inside her. Fingers she'd fantasized about more times than she cared to fess up to, even to herself. And to know it was his tongue on her, a tongue that was so often sharp or irreverent but that was bringing her so much pleasure as he alternated between flickering and laving her quivering clit.

She reached down and buried her fingers in his silver hair, holding his face tight against her as she grew closer and closer to spinning apart. She couldn't help but press herself further into his talented mouth, harder onto his impaling hand.

"Sir," she breathed as his fingers moved inside her and as his tongue moved across her clit in a particularly heady combination.

He growled at the use of his honorific under the circumstances which caused a vibration to flow through her that made her shudder and moan.

Without warning, she felt her orgasm coil up and explode outwards from her clit. She clenched around his fingers and bucked against his face. Because she was unprepared she wasn't quiet and he surged upwards with his free hand to cover her mouth. She bit down gently on the soft, fleshy part of the outside of his hand as he stroked her insides with gentle come hither motions. She came down from her high slowly and released the hold she had on his hand, soothing the teeth marks with her tongue.

It was then she realized that he'd made her come with his mouth and they hadn't even kissed. It made her chuckle self consciously.

"What?" He asked as he prowled up her body until he hovered over her.

"I just realized... we haven't kissed."

He flicked his eyes up to hers and then back down to her lips and she realized he was perfectly poised to kiss her. He leaned down and captured her lips with his. She tilted her head to get a better angle as she sucked his tongue into her mouth and tasted herself on him. He pressed his hips into the cradle of her thighs and she could feel the rasp of the cotton of his shorts against her sensitive skin. She squeezed his hips with her thighs as their tongues tangled.

He wasn't just kissing her, he was making love to her mouth. And he was pressing his hips into her rhythmically, it was getting to a critical point. She'd come already, but it was quickly becoming not enough.

"I want you inside me," she whispered to him, then couldn't believe her boldness.

"I don't carry protection offworld," he said, sounding apologetic.

"We don't need protection. I'm on birth control. You know that."

"I didn't want to assume..."

"Jack," she sighed then kissed him soundly. "Did you honestly think I was going to let you... you know... then not let you... well, you know."

He laughed. "You think I did that for you? I'm glad you enjoyed it, but Sam, that was just as much for me as it was for you."

She felt herself blush and was glad for the low light of the lantern so he wouldn't see it. "Well, either way..." She lifted her hips into him again.

"Hold that thought," he said the levered himself up off her. He stood up again, tall and imposing and pushed his boxer briefs down and off. From her vantage point on the ground his erection looked obscene the way it stood out from his body and she couldn't wait to have it inside her. She whimpered. She felt like she'd done a lot of that since all of this had started. She reached a beckoning hand up to him. He took it as he settled himself back down on the ground.

"Wait a minute," she said.


"Your knees."

"What about them?"

"Maybe you should let me be on top."

With a grin he flopped over onto his back. "Okay."

"Well, that didn't take much convincing."

"Do me a favor?"


"Take that bra off?"

She looked down and realized she was still wearing her sports bra and started laughing. "We've really done this out of order."


"Sorry," she said quietly as she pulled the bra off over her head.

"God," he said quietly, "that's better than I even imagined."

She looked down at her breasts, "Yeah?"

"Oh yeah."

She grinned as she climbed astride him, took him in hand, then slowly, oh so slowly, slid down on to him. He groaned lowly as she took him inside her.

"Fucking hell, Sam."

"Shhh..." She mocked him with a sly smile.

She put one hand on his chest and used her thighs to slide up his shaft and then slowly slid back down. She kept up a slow pace until he put his hands on her hips and squeezed, signifying his need to speed things up. Incrementally, she began to move faster and faster until she was moving at a frenzied pace that made her breasts bounce up and down uncomfortably. She reached up to cup them for some relief but the picture it made made him groan with appreciation, so she tweaked her own nipples for good measure and felt the twinges of another orgasm start deep within her. She didn't think she had it in her after the way she'd come before but she wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Maybe it was the alien baklava.

As if he knew what she was capable of, he reached for the place where they were joined and pressed his thumb against her clit, it made her jerk and hiss, the extra stimulation, but it was good. Oh, so very good. She made some unintelligible sound that he interpreted as more, please and used one hand to pull her down so he could suck one tight nipple into his mouth and continued to rub tight circles around her clit with his other hand.

"Oh," she panted into his ear, "I'm going to come again."

"Good," he growled, around her nipple.

"What about you."

"Oh," he said, turning her nipple loose, and surging up into her, "I'm gonna come too."

"Come inside me," she said impulsively. She put her lips right next to his ear and whispered to him, "it really turns me on to think of you inside me."

He grunted then thrust into her particularly hard. "Fuck, Sam, what are you trying to do to me?"

She pushed herself up with one hand on his chest and panted, "I don't know. I'm not usually so forward."

"It's probably that damn dessert."

"Probably," she panted.

He pressed her clit again. "I don't care."

"Me either."

"Are you close? I'm close."

"Come. I'll come if you come," she told him. She knew just the thought of him coming inside her would make her unravel around him.

With one last mighty thrust he threw his head back and groaned long and low, she could feel the way his hips pressed up into her over and over and she knew he was coming. She knocked his hand out of the way and ran, fast tight circles around her clit until she spun apart, too, choking on his name.

When she was spent she shifted off of him and laid down on the tent floor beside him, limbs spread, suddenly feeling the heat of the night once more and this time more intensely for the physical activity. She felt soaked in sweat and, now that she thought about it, other bodily fluids. She sighed contentedly. "I need a shower."

"Me too," he said, sound satiated.

"I really needed that."

"I think we both did."

"What did you say? Relief?"


"Alien baklava," she said and turned her head to him only to find him shaking his.

"Four years."

She blushed. She hadn't thought he'd been noticing her the way she'd been noticing him. She'd thought the flirting had just been... well... him. But apparently she'd been wrong.

"If anyone asks, though..." she pressed.

"Oh," he said, "alien baklava, all the way."

She couldn't help but laugh.