Sturgis or Bust

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Samantha Carter sighed as she dropped her keys on the entry table. She had hoped to get out of the mountain earlier than she had...hours earlier. She was only supposed to have worked till noon, but the lab technicians had seemed to crawl out of the woodwork in a panic, bombarding her with questions before she took off on vacation. The universe was semi-quiet at the moment and she wasn’t about to miss the rally this year, especially since she’d missed last year.

She headed into the hallway and released the attic trapdoor. Climbing part way up the ladder she poked her head through the opening. Spying the footlocker she wanted, she carefully retrieved it, taking care not to fall as she gingerly came back down the ladder. No way was she going to jeopardize her time off with a stupid accident.

In her bedroom, she grabbed the hidden key from her sock drawer, her face lighting up with a grin as she unlocked the case. The burden of several worlds slid off her shoulders as she gazed in delight at the articles inside.

Her whole life she’d felt like she had to live up to everyone’s expectations; her parents (especially her father), her teachers, the Air Force, her various commanding officers, and even her friends. They’d made her feel that she’d been born special. That her brilliance made her obligated to never cause them disappointment. That’s why it was so hard for her to put her mistakes behind her. Because every time she did mess up, people she cared about had to pay the price.

Until she bought her first motorcycle, there were very few things in her life she did that were just for *her*. Several years ago, she had seen a flier in the Harley shop advertising the bike rally in Sturgis, South Dakota. After a particularly difficult mission and desperate to get away, she had driven up on a whim-and was hooked. Alone in a mob of hundreds of thousands of people, she had found a part of herself. A really different part, that no one, not even she had ever seen before. Not wanting to put the classic Indian through the long drive again, she’d splurged a new Harley Fat Boy when she’d gotten home. It had the same graceful style as the Indian, yet was able to handle the miles. Besides, it had plenty of room for hauling all of her gear, or even another person if she wanted.

Hence, the secret footlocker. Jam-packed with items that were contradictory to the Sam Carter everyone knew and loved. She pulled out her Willie G® leather jacket, hugging it to her chest and inhaling the sweet scent of well worn-leather. She laid it on the bed and pulled out the already-packed bags as well as the outfit she had picked out for the drive.

She grabbed what she needed and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off her clothes she looked her self over in the mirror, before applying the temporary tattoo’s she held in her hand. The thought of Daniel’s shocked face flitted through her mind. If he were to ever find out that she actually enjoyed wearing them...it was like putting on a different sort of uniform. They identified you to a group of people, and in Sturgis, there are very few rules followed. The first being that Harleys are King; and second, that you can never have too many tattoos. She’d added one every year she made the trip. This year, she’d found one that reminded her of a certain someone. Finished with the transformation, she stared at the stranger looking back; her face covered in more makeup than she normally wore in a week.

“Hello, Sweetness” she mocked herself lightly.

At first she’d been offended when the leader of the bike club she’d attached herself to during that first trip had dubbed her with that handle. But after challenging him and hearing out his reasons, she’d resigned herself to it. Wasn’t anything she was going to be able to do to change it anyway. Thank God, nobody from the SGC would ever hear it. She’d never live it down, especially since Ja...umm...General O’Neill, had a penchant for saying ‘sweet’ all the time.

Before changing into her all black leather outfit, she called the hotel to inform them that her arrival would be later than anticipated and told them to cancel her massage appointment. Frowning, she snapped her cell phone shut, she’d been looking forward to that massage all week. Their last mission had been in a mountainous region of P8X-357. Her back and butt were still a bit achy from all the climbing they’d had to do. And the long drive ahead wasn’t going to help matters. Drat those apprehensive lab geeks!

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Jack O’Neill stared in amazement at the vehicle sitting in the rental spot that matched the set of keys in his hands. Obviously, somebody back at the office was trying to earn major brownie points! Smirking, he unlocked the Hummer-3, threw his bag into the back and slid into the leather front seat. Sweeeet! It even still had that new car smell.

‘Oh, I have GOT to get me one of these’ he thought.

Two weeks of leave, and he hadn’t told a soul. Surreptitiously he’d garnered from Landry that Carter was due for time off too. Hell, he hadn’t been Black Ops for nothin’! He’d called Daniel on some pretense or other who’d let it slip that Sam wasn’t headed out to California. So ‘surprise, surprise’, here he was in Colorado. He eased out of the airport parking lot, heading straight for her house. They had communicated some by email and phone calls since he’d gone to Washington, but between the Ori shenanigans and the bureaucratic bullshit of DC, there’d been little time for anything...personal.

Glancing at his watch, he wondered if Landry was more adept at getting Carter to leave the mountain at a decent hour than he or Hammond had ever been, or if he was in for a few hours of waiting before she got home. He patted the purring dashboard; at least he would be waiting in comfort.

He was about a block away from the street that turned into Carter’s housing development when he saw a familiar motorcycle pull out, turning in front of him. Curious, he followed rather than going on to her house. Even from a distance, he had to swallow hard at how good she looked in her leather riding clothes, her blond hair blown back by the wind, and sunglasses hiding her eyes. God, he’d missed her.

After a few minutes of tailing her, he realized that she was headed out of town-towards Denver, in fact. His stomach sank like a rock. She hadn’t mentioned anything about getting back together with Pete, but it had been over a month since they’d exchanged anything other than belated email replies. Hanging back several cars, he tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible.

‘I’m gonna kill whoever the wiseass was that requested this beast,’ flew across his mind unjustly as he tried to hide the Hummer behind a semi-truck.

He followed her through downtown Denver, his heart aching and his mind refusing to accept the fact that she might be going to see somebody.

He pulled over as she stopped at a gas station, filled up and went inside to pay. A few minutes later, she was off and roaring out past the city limits. An hour or so later, she took an exit off the highway into the heart of the city of Cheyenne, Wyoming.

The city traffic helped conceal him as he tracked her all the way to a hotel. A huge one called the Hotel Monaco. He whistled as dollar signs started flashing in his brain, very plush. He double parked a ways down the street, keeping his engine running, and watched in his rearview mirror as she dismounted and opened up her saddlebags for the bellhop before striding to the entrance, nodding to the doorman as she passed.

O’Neill bit his lip, trying to decide what to do. He waited, hoping she would come back out since it didn’t seem that she had handed over her keys to the valet. A valet. Damn, what was this place, the Ritz?

He was rewarded a few minutes later as he saw her walking towards her bike. Slouching down in the seat, he shielded his face from her as she whizzed by. He let her get an entire block away before pulling out after her.

The stoplights caused him to lose sight of her a few times, but he always managed to catch her as she got caught up in the traffic too. He focused on remaining unseen, refusing to consider his actions, or where her ultimate destination would be. The parking lot she pulled into startled him, ‘Hawk’s Landing? Why on earth would Carter come here?’
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The place looked like a stereotypical biker bar; a dive. There were literally a couple of hundred or more Harley’s crowding the lot. The closest spot that the Hummer would fit into was halfway down the street in a dry cleaner’s lot. Thank God he was wearing jeans and a black t-shirt. He grabbed his leather jacket, hoping it would help him ‘blend’.

A band was belting out a song he didn’t recognize. He tried to ignore the looks he was getting from the men inside. They all seemed to be about roughly his age, which seemed a bit...odd. Most had beards and beer bellies stretching out their old biker logo t-shirts. It didn’t take long to spot Carter through the crowd. She was on the dance floor with several other very scary looking biker chicks and he noticed that she’d removed her jacket.

His mouth started watering at her revealed skin. The tank top that always made an appearance in his dreams had nothing on the number she was wearing: a halter-thingy. It had a low V-neck, with hooks down the front. He could see tiny bits of skin all the way down to where it stopped, an inch or two short of her painted on black leather pants. And it showed off the…tattoo on her shoulder blade? Her manly black biker boots were about the only thing he recognized. He blinked his eyes hard, and not because the room was filled with smoke.

Shuddering, he ran a hand through his spiky hair at the sight of her. He had never seen her looking so…reckless, so abandoned and sooo…hot. Because that is definitely what she was. Damn hot. Gyrating to the beat that was so loud, he could literally feel it, like a pacemaker, resetting his heartbeat.

It wasn’t hard to make it to the bar, the biker dudes parted like he was contagious or something. He nodded to a few of them, trying to disarm their glares, but his eyes kept darting back to the scene playing out on the dance floor, curious as to why there weren’t any men out dancing; just the ‘chicks’. He swallowed hard as Sam and another woman leaned into each other.

‘No way in hell…’ raced through his mind.

He turned away and ordered a shot of whiskey and downed it as soon as the bartender set it in front of him.

“Another, with a Guinness.”

Down went the second dose of medicinal courage. Grasping the beer bottle like it was a lifeline, he turned back towards her, steeling himself for whatever else he might see. But Sam was dancing alone again-alone in the crowd as she could be anyway-her eyes squeezed shut, lost in the music.

So intent on the spectacle that was Carter, he didn’t pay attention as a woman sidled up next to him. He did, however, feel her hand on his ass, as she leaned in to ask him a question.

“Whoa there…lady, aren’t you friendly?” he yelped as he swiveled his butt away from her groping fingers.

“Are you looking for some company tonight?” she yelled in his ear.

“Umm, no...thanks. I’m, uh… here with somebody” he shouted back, shaking his head and trying to smile apologetically.

“I saw you when you came in. You were alone.” She persisted, settling her hand on his arm this time.

“I’m with her” he said emphatically, jutting his chin towards the still twisting Sam.

“Yeah, right!” She cackled sarcastically. “No way are you with her.”

“Why do you say that?” he frowned, his pride pricked by her laughter.

“Cause nobody gets with her. She comes alone, she leaves alone. Always. And you think you have a shot with her?” She taunted, eyeing him up and down critically.

“Well, she’s leaving with me tonight!”

He took a big swig of his beer and set the bottle on the bar, swiping his face with his sleeve. Glaring at the amusement on the woman’s face, he started to push his way to the dance floor.

Before he had even made it a few feet, the song finished and in the few seconds of silence, Sam turned and made a beeline straight for him. He paused, startled as her eyes locked on his.

The music started up again as she reached him. She stood almost touching him, her chest heaving to catch her breath, her body glistening with sweat already. He just stood there in shock; her face in heavier makeup than he’d ever seen before. Dark liner and mascara making her eyes look like they took up half of her face, and her oh-so-red lips the other.

He did register the fleeting smirk across her face before she grabbed his hand and turned back towards the dance floor. Hesitating, he tried to pull away from her, but she just yanked harder, towing him along. They stepped onto the dance floor, but she plowed through the women bouncing around them, all the way up past the huge speakers to a door just to the side of the stage.

She continued hauling him along through the mass of people in the room they entered towards a staircase by the back door. Several men were sitting around a card table, playing poker. One of them, looking particularly grimy he noted, called out.

“Hey, Sweetness, when did you get here?”

“Little while ago Slick, is the room upstairs empty?”

“Yeah sure, Sweetness. Take your time-it’s still early, nobody’s booked it yet” he laughed.

“Thanks, Slick” she replied, shooting him a grin.

Jack just barely managed to not stumble as she dragged him up the steps and down the hallway to another door. ‘Sweetness’? Oh, that was so going to be a topic of discussion later. Finally regaining some of his equilibrium, he pulled her up short as she reached for the doorknob.

“Carter, what the hell is going on?” he growled at her.

“Just get inside, Jack”

It was the ‘Jack’ that got him. If she’d called him ‘sir’ or ‘General’, he would have continued to resist. But between her big blue eyes staring up at him only a few inches away and the way she’d said ‘Jack’, he followed her passively, his ire ebbing away.

Inside, she let go of his hand and stalked to the bed that dominated the small room. The springs squealed as she sat down on the edge. He stayed leaning back on the door while she waited for him to stop scanning the well-used room and look at her. The lighting was dim, but he could tell it hadn’t been cleaned in ages despite its rather obvious constant occupation. It took a minute for him to inspect the room, while he avoided looking at her...on the bed. He needed control, and he needed it now.

Finally, his eyes landed on her.

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“Whatcha’ doin’?” he asked quietly.

“You know, I could ask you the same.” she replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “I nearly had a heart attack when you started trailing me out of Colorado Springs. Bad things have happened on-world in the past few years when I’ve let my guard down, so I’ve become a lot more alert while at home. When I stopped at the gas station I called an old friend at the State Police to ID that Hummer license plate.”

Sheepish that he had been seen and ashamed that he had caused her fear, he hung his head. Damn that Hummer, it was not conducive to sneakiness. Still, she hadn’t answered his question, so he asked again.

“Carter...whatcha’ doin’ here?”

“Here in this room? Here in this bar? Or here in Cheyenne?”

He met her retorts with silence, knowing that in the end, her desire to explain would get him some answers.

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud Jack, I’m on my way to the Harley rally in Sturgis. I try to go every year, remember? You used to sign my leave papers,” she frowned at him.

His heart jumped to his throat with her admission that she wasn’t on her way to see ‘another man’. Trying to seem nonchalant, he arched his eyebrows at her use of his favorite phrase. That caused her to roll her eyes and blush slightly, which grew deeper as she realized that his eyes had started roaming her.

“Umm, so how come I never knew you had tattoos before?” he questioned, tilting his head to one side and ogling her openly. “That’s something a CO should have been told. You know, in case I needed to...uh...ID the body.” Not that he would have ever needed help identifying her body, but this was so not the time for a little self-chat.

“They’re only temporary Jack; they’ll come off in a few days.”

“Ahh, but they look so real. Lemme get a closer look” he said, mesmerized by the fact that she not only had the Harley-Davidson logo on her shoulder blade, but an eagle wrapped in an American flag on her left breast, and was that a... it almost looked like the tip of a pine tree hidden by her belt? “How many of those you got anyway?” he asked, pulling her up off the bed and slowly spinning her around to see better.

“Jaaaack....”

“Well damn, Carter, you look good enough to eat” he blurted out, dazed by what he was seeing... and seeing a lot of. Lots of skin. Lots of sweaty, tattooed-covered Carter skin. Totally sweet.

“I beg your pardon?” she barked shrilly, pulling away from him.

He started chuckling at her. With indignant hands on her hips and squeezed into an outrageous biker outfit, she had the audacity to be so proper as to say ‘I beg your pardon’. He started laughing harder and her eyes got narrower in irritation.

“I don’t see what’s so funny!”

He sat down heavily on the bed, laughing with tears blurring his eyes.

“Carter, I could understand it if you’d said, ‘how dare you’, ‘shut the hell up’, even ‘excuse me’, but ‘I beg your pardon’?” he finally managed to wheeze out, quirking an eyebrow at her.

Her irritation died down as she grinned back at him, “I guess it was sorta’...out of character...for this character.”

“And oh, what a character it is,” he breathed, realizing that all of a sudden he had a very choice eye-level view of her belly button. Damn, there was a tattooed ring of roses around it. And yes, it really did look like the top of a pine tree peeking out from her pants. Mother. Of. God.

“Did I mention that I suddenly discovered that I love trees? All kinds, but firs are my favorite,” he said, setting his hands on her hips gently and pulling her stomach into his face. God...he wanted to kiss that dimple, but instead he took a deep breath to steady his nerves only to get a lungful of Eau de Carter. He hadn’t realized how sensual the smell of sweat and leather could be.

“Sir....”

“So help me Carter, if you ‘sir’ me one more time, I’m going to throw you on this bed and screw your brains out despite how utterly disgusting these sheets are,” he managed to get out, his voice muffled by her skin.

She gulped, her body tingling from the vibration of his lips, “And that would be a problem because...?”

“Because you...we...deserve more than a quickie in the back of some bar! I don’t want this just for tonight, Carter. I still want what I’ve always wanted, for there to be an ‘us’. Haven’t you realized by now that I’m in love with you? That I’ve always loved you?”

His voice trailed off, aware that she had frozen in place. Perhaps opening up for the first time to the woman you love shouldn’t happen in the back of some bar either.... Well, there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. It was out there. Waaaaay out there. Damn those two shots, he’d downed them too fast.

He cleared his throat, that oh-so-not-subtle cue of ‘you should say something here’.

But she didn’t say anything. Just as he was about to push her away to see what she was thinking, she wrapped his head in a vice grip, hugging him to her. He reciprocated by wrapping his arms around her and drawing her even closer between his spread legs, bringing her pelvis into his chest.

After a minute or so of squeezing, he mumbled, “Carter, I do need to breathe.”

“Umm, still with the Carter, Jack?” Her voice quivered with the effort to control her emotions as she loosened her grip slightly.

“Everyone else calls you by your rank or by ‘Sam’, but I’m the only one who gets to call you ‘Carter’. It’s mine. You’re mine.” he said as he pulled her down to sit on his leg.

“I can live with that for now,” she said tucking her face into his neck.

They sat there for several minutes, just holding onto each other and breathing.

“Whaddya’ say we take this somewhere a little more, oh, I don’t know...sanitary?” he asked.

She lifted her head and looked into his eyes, a small smile lighting up her face. “Well, since you’ve unilaterally decided that we aren’t going to have sex, I guess we can leave here and continue on with my plans for tonight, but first....”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, who said anything about ‘not’ having sex? I just said not ‘here’!” he protested, eyebrows drooping down in a frown.

Closing the distance between their lips, she whispered, “Oh come on Jack, be a good sport. I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

“Well, when you put it that way....” he growled back, reaching out hesitantly to try and kiss her, but she slid off his lap and grabbed his hand before he could. He sighed with resignation and reluctantly stood up.

Jack allowed Sam to lead him back downstairs, although he almost had to stop and correct a few misconceptions the men around the poker table held. He could swear that he heard snide comments follow them as they traipsed through the back room again. ‘That was quick’ and ‘didn’t take very long’ were thrown about. And the one she had called Slick definitely said something about how it usually took longer to get leather pants off than the entire time they’d been upstairs. However, after one warning glance from Carter he decided he would be the bigger man. Ha, he probably ‘was’ anyway and they were just jealous. Yeah, that was it.

At least he was doing something they had never done. Left the building with Carter. Although technically, ‘she’ was leaving the building with him. He did manage to make himself feel slightly better when he saw the woman who had approached him earlier. There was just enough time to stick his tongue out at her before he was dragged through the front door.

She headed straight for her motorcycle. “We’ll have to hurry if we want to get there before it closes.”

“Before what closes?”

“C’mon Jack, hop on the back.”

“Carter, I do not ‘hop’ anywhere.”

“Jaaaack....”

Sighing like the martyr he was pretending to be, he ‘climbed’ onto the back of the bike.

After grabbing her jacket from the saddle bag, Sam slid in front and he decided that protesting about leaving the Hummer was a moot point. It was insured. And he ‘had’ been drinking. He’d drink some more if it meant he could be spooned up against Carter all night. Damn, he should have taken her on the hepatitis-infested bed. Having her butt tight up against his crotch was not helping to calm his desire to touch and kiss her all over.

Deciding that there was no reason to hold back, he slid his hands underneath her coat as she turned onto the street. The wind threw back the sound of her sucking in her breath as he splayed his fingers across her abdomen and started stroking her velvety skin.

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His hands were driving her insane. Tucked under her jacket, he was searching for and finding every square centimeter of exposed skin. Sucking in a deep breath, she could feel the vibrations of his growling along her back and neck. Damn him. She tried harder to focus on driving. Her hands were shaking, and her foot refused to respond to her mental command to downshift. At least traffic was somewhat light. Thank god for small favors and that it was only a few more blocks to their destination because each seductive stroke he made was fanning the flames of a long stoked fire. Shit, she should have just shoved him back on the bed and had her way with him. Who cared if that bed would probably have been classified by the CDC as a haven for every VD known to man.

She actually shuddered as his fingers slid underneath the waistband of her pants, her body tingling from head to toe. Instinctively, she leaned back into his chest, unconsciously providing better access to what he sought. Now if only he could get an inch or two further he’d be in the right....

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Gently kissing her neck, he frowned, damning her tight pants for only being able to reach just so far before the unyielding leather stopped him. He had to touch her. Had to. Needed to. Was going to absolutely die from sensory deprivation if he didn’t touch her right there, right now!

How adolescently naïve of him to think there was nothing to stop him from giving in to his craving to map out her body. He hadn’t anticipated nine years of pent-up desire to explode out of control as he explored unimpeded and feeling as primal as when they were under the effects of the Broca virus. Should’ve done like he threatened and fucked her at the bar...should’ve at least kissed her! He hadn’t even had the sense to stop her in her tracks and kiss her! Old memories of her lips against his made him groan against her throat in regret. Regret. Should’ve been a man and called in his markers with the President years ago. They could’ve made it work. After everything they’d been through, pulling a relationship off would’ve been easy, comparatively.

Her leaning into him allotted him a little more room and his knuckles brushed up against her zipper. Zipper! Dammit! He withdrew his hands and proceeded to undo her belt and pants, grinning wickedly when she whimpered. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier? Umm, maybe because there was absolutely no blood in his brain at the moment? All of his blood had pounded its way south to his favorite extremity. Using one arm to steady her and stroke the breast that was within reach, he quickly slipped the other hand down into the space he’d made. Ah, a two-fronted assault...the perfect strategy!

Oh God. Smooth and wet. His fingers slipped into her cleft. Hot, wet, and trembling. His breath hitched at the silky sensation. A deep moan escaped him as she writhed on the seat at his touch. He could barely think straight, how was she keeping them on the road?

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Must...over...now....god...store...right...there.

Her brain hazy, she was still lucid enough to pull into a spot that was in the shadows facing away from the security camera by the store entrance. Leaving the engine running, she put her feet on the ground to balance the bike, causing her legs to spread further apart and her pelvis to tilt providing more delicious friction.

Only seconds had passed, her body reeling with the sensation of two of his long fingers thrusting inside her while his thumb circled her clit, before she felt the first tell-tale quivers signaling her rapidly approaching orgasm. Her nipples pressed hard against the restraining fabric, his other hand flicking and teasing them...her neck being marked ‘private property’ by his lips and teeth. Oh, god, his mouth! She had to taste him, NOW! Reaching her arms back to grab his head, she turned her face towards his and pulled him into a deep tongue-dueling kiss and then gasped as he hit that certain spot again and her body shuddered its release.

“Jack!” she breathed, collapsing into his arm wrapped around her, unable to comprehend how he could make her come so quickly. A twinge of regret marred her endorphin-glazed bliss that he was pressed up against her, still hard as stone. Something would have to be done about that. Soon.

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Registering her complete surrender to him, his brain flitted from thought to thought on overdrive, his emotions and pounding hormones overwhelming his capacity to think clearly. God, he loved her. So innocent looking, so book smart, that it seemed impossible that she could be worldly-wise and dirty-minded. Yet, there were times when her mouth and stories had made even his ears burn. Like that one time off-world when they were sitting around the campfire shooting the breeze and she told this joke that made Danny-boy choke on a candy bar when she’d rattled off the incredibly dirty punch-line. He’d thought he was gonna have to do the Heimlich on him. Like now...coming on a motorcycle, in public, and did she cower? Nope, she’d enjoyed it. Had barely touched her and she’d come hard and fast.

Since they’d stopped, now might be the perfect time for him to take advantage of the situation and get some relief of his own since his fingers were still up her...FUCK! His fingers were up Carter’s pussy! Dammit! Great move Jack! So much for sweeping her off her feet with candlelight and roses! He was such an idiot! Oh, ‘this’ was a great way to show her your undying love and devotion. What a complete asshole he was!

Dropping his forehead onto her shoulder, he could barely contain the expletives that wanted to fly out of his mouth. Shit! And after he’d made a big speech about her deserving something more special...oh, yeah...fingering her as you’re driving down the street...that’s WAAAYY more romantic!

Ok. Breathe! Calm down and think O’Neill. Think...you can fix this...somehow...ok...your mission objectives are: 1. Tactical withdrawal of hand. 2. Determine Carter’s reaction. 3. Apologize profusely. 4. Shower with reassurances of love and adoration. Operation of mission to commence immediately!

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Jack opened his mouth to say something brilliant. Something clever that would have them laughing at the situation they found themselves in...anything that would get him the hell out of this predicament with his balls still intact, only to have Sam shove her tongue down his throat.

Oookaayy...Houston, we have no problem, repeat, there is no problem!

Wiggling his drenched digits experimentally, he was rewarded with a very interesting sound. Samantha Carter purring in his mouth. Whoa. Mind-blowing. God, she tasted...amazing.

When they separated for air, he heard her moan. “Jack, my legs can’t hold us up much longer.”

Damn. Now he’d have to change positions. Well, maybe it wasn’t a bad thing, but it was definitely going to break the mood he had going.

Making sure she could hold herself upright, he withdrew his arm from around her and grasped the handlebar to pull against the resistance of the metal kickstand, and then turned the key to shut the engine off.

Now they were slightly tilted to the side and he could feel her sliding away from him. Shit.
Leaving a slippery trail of her fluid, he slowly glided his hand over her mound and up her abdomen. Grasping her waist to steady her, he used the other hand to elevate her leg. In one smooth motion, he spun her to face him, draping her legs over his thighs causing his erection to throb against her.

She arched against him, wrapping both arms around his shoulders and ducking her face into his neck, eliciting a moan from him, “Caarteerr!”

“Just hold on a few more minutes...”

Sure, a few more minutes of his life. Hell, he’d been holding on for forever it seemed, what were a few more minutes? He opened his eyes and concentrated on determining where they were. A motorcycle shop? Crap. They were going shopping. A few more minutes my ass! He’d thought maybe they were back at the hotel, but no such luck.

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Feeling a delicious tiredness, Sam forced herself to slither off. What had she been thinking? To hell with her original plans for the night, she should’ve just gotten back to the hotel as fast as she could drive. She giggled inwardly at Jack’s predicament. At least his t-shirt was long. She looked up and gasped at the scene before her. He was leaning back on the bike, his tongue poking out to lick the fingers that had been inside her. Oh God! Could you come just by seeing something? Because it sure as hell felt like she was right on the edge again. This was going to be the quickest shopping spree ever. Thank god, she’d already had the stuff she wanted put on hold.

After refastening her pants she reached for his hand, the dry one, but he waved her back. “Just gimme a sec, I’m dying here.”

She arched an eyebrow at him as he heaved himself off the seat, but acquiesced to his wishes. Consciously restraining herself from grasping his hand again, she led the way into the store.

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He was dying. His chest hurt, his brain was foggy, the bright shop lights were glaring into his eyes, and his dick was so hard that not even his shirt and jacket were providing any concealment. Yep. He had confirmation. Carter was definitely killing him. This was as bad as when he’d been captured by Baal...ok, well, not ‘that’ bad...since he did have a pleasurable tingling sensation shooting down his spine, and he still had the taste of Carter in his mouth. Ok, life was definitely worth living. Heart, stop pounding, and that’s an order!

Following her through the doorway, he stopped to let his eyes adjust to the glare of the fluorescent lights overhead. Still seeing spots, he watched as she continued on towards the clothing section. He jumped, a bit startled, as her name was shrieked loudly and a hulking shadow came from around a corner and grabbed her, swinging her around in circles.

“Sven, put me down” she giggled.

“Sweetness! You came!” the giant shouted, still twirling her around.

Narrowing his eyes, he stealthily approached the two. Did she know everyone in Cheyenne? This one was most assuredly not sleazy. He looked like a Minnesota farm boy transformed into a body builder. About 6’5”, 225 lbs, blonde hair, blue eyes...looked to be about 35 years old...yeah, he could take him. Piece a cake. No problemo.

He didn’t even notice the growl that erupted from his chest as Sven kissed her on the cheek, still hugging her tightly.

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Hearing the snarl from behind her, she whispered, “Quick, let go!”

Released from his grasp, she turned around, her hands up in an attempt to sooth the predatory man stalking their way. “Jack, this is my friend, Sven. He’s the owner of the shop.”

Jack hadn’t even acknowledged her comment. He was still coming towards them, glaring at Sven like he was about to break him in two. Ok...now what?

Not knowing what else to do, she stepped into his path, one hand pulling his head to hers and into a quick kiss, the other slipping between them and stroking his erection. That got his attention. She let his lips go when she felt his arms wrap around her possessively.

“He’s just a friend, Jack...and gay,” she murmured into his ear before turning her head around towards the puzzled man standing behind them.

“Sven, this is Jack.”

“Ah” the huge man replied, understanding the situation now. “Umm, nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you. Sorry about all...that...just haven’t seen her in a while...” his voice trailed off as Jack’s piercing gaze shifted from Sam and back onto him.

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He didn’t look gay. He looked nervous. As he should. If Carter hadn’t diverted his attention, he would’ve unquestionably hurt that goliath. How dare he put his hands on Sam and kiss her? What was the idiot thinking? That was so not gonna happen in his presence! No way, no how, never!

Still glowering at her ‘friend’, he completely missed the conversation that was going on between the two of them.

He let Carter pry herself from his arms, but maintained a firm grasp of her hand as she led them towards the back of the room, grabbing various articles off the racks as they walked past.

“C’mon, let’s try some of these things on,” he heard her say. But he still didn’t respond. He kept a fierce frown aimed in Sven’s direction. That is, until he saw the guy glance down at his bulging crotch and lick his lips. Ok. He believed Carter. The man was gay.