Your Cheatin' Heart 2

Subterfuge

by Trancer

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ast/trancer/cheatin02.php
Summary: Janet's thoughts during 'Your Cheatin' Heart'.

Sam's gone. My Sam, my love, my life, my every thing. Gone to DC for a lecture she could give two wits about, all because Jack didn't want to go. Three weeks, three whole weeks she was gone. I planned, waited, counted the minutes until she would return. When I saw her exit Hammond's office, Sam looked like she was about to cry. Sexual tension does that to you. Builds up inside like a ticking time bomb. You wait, anticipation drying your mouth, adrenaline filling your veins, desire aching between your legs. Ticking away until the moment you explode. Only, that moment never came for us. Jack O Neill stole it.

One of these days, I will make him pay. Just not today.

I can tell you the exact moment I fell for her. See, Sam was always, you know, 'just' Sam, the uber-smart physicist with the beautiful blue eyes. Then, she got the hair cut and my whole world changed. I saw something different, something I'd never seen before.

I'd love to say it's her eyes that do me in. The crystal blue orbs, bright as the sun. Or her ass, which I tease her mercilessly about. No, for me, it s the whole package. The way she walks. All tall and lanky. Her shoulders. All with a thousand-watt smile that could light up a universe.

I tap my foot anxiously. Two more hours, and I'll be in DC. I want to talk. Talk about my Sam and how she can make me melt with just a look. But, I'm stuck in coach sitting next to a guy who, if I give him the time of day, will assume I mean 'take me to your hotel and fuck me'. So, I sit and I wait. Thinking about Sam. Trying not to think about the dull throbbing ache between my legs. Or my nipples, so tender and erect with desire, I could probably poke someone's eye out.

You see, Sam does this to me. Makes me crazy. Makes me hot and trembly. What makes it worse, most of the time she has no idea. Can I take a moment to gush about her thighs, and ass? Never mind, I will anyway. Smooth and curvy, firm and soft. A series of contrasts which makes my mouth water and my head dizzy.

Right before she jumped, Sam came in Medical to say goodbye. She was wearing her desert camos. My favorite outfit (I haven't told her yet). The leather straps from her hip holster tied around her thigh, accentuated the lines. One look at her, just one look, and my panties became a useless sponge. My knees became weak and I had to sit down, which just made things worse.

She said goodbye with those beautiful blue eyes of her. Told me she loved me without saying a word. Then, just like that, she was gone. And I was in the bathroom, locked away in a stall, quenching the fire burning between my legs. I'm not sure if I'll tell her that. The subject of sex still embarrasses her with a cute ferocity. She does that. Takes me to the edge with her eyes, her walk, her body. And I wait, wait for the moment she comes to me and pushes me over. I've been waiting for weeks now. I'm not waiting any longer.

I can't wait to get to DC. I bought a wig and a new dress, a sexy black one-piece that will drive her wild. That's not hubris, just the truth. You see I'm going to seduce my Sam.

Why the subterfuge? I don't know how to say this without sounding crazy or narcissistic. But, I've always been the initiator. The one to make the first move, the first touch, the first everything. Even with men, I had to be the one to make the first move. I love Sam, I do. When she makes love to me it's the most loving sweetest sex in the world. But, there's a part of me, deep down, that doesn't want Sam to make love to me. I want to have sex, hot, fast, and hard. I want to be taken, stripped down and used until I'm sucked dry. No one's ever done that for me. No one. I want it from Sam. I want to see the flame in her eyes. To feel the lust in her body when she takes me.

But, I can't do it as myself. I have to do it as someone else. Play a role for her. To let her know she can take me to the edge without fear of breaking me. She can touch Iris in ways she'd never dream of touching Janet, and it will be okay. Because I'm going to let her. I'm going to seduce her and she'll take me. To the edge, then push me over. Finally.

The plane touches down and I rush out the doors, faster than the stewards can say 'goodbye'. I change in the bathroom. I walk in Janet Fraiser. I walk out Iris. Why Iris? She was a Goddess, a messenger for the Gods. And I've come to send Samantha Carter a message.

It's dark when I arrive at the hotel. I sashay into the lobby, hips swaying like I own the place. If you have enough attitude you can walk pretty much anywhere. People will automatically assume you belong, if you have the right attitude. I do. I walk past the concierge, noting the look in his eyes, the look in all their eyes. I definitely chose the right dress. Past the front desk I walk, no questions.

The elevator takes an eternity. Or maybe it's just my imagination. I'm trying to control my breathing. I've chosen to go Commando, below and above. The material of my dress teases my nipples in a way that's excruciating.

I'm at her door, knocking. Come on, Sam. Where are you? Don't you know I'm here, ready, willing and able? Ready for you to take me. You will take me won't you?

I realize she's not in. Seeds of desperation begin to plant within me. The heat inside me is building in a crescendo, burning my insides, pulsating, harder and louder. I return to the main floor. I have to stop in the restroom. Going Commando is a great idea for a seduction. But, not when you have to wipe the seeds of your desire from your thighs.

I wander through the Hotel when something catches my eye. I turn my head and there she is. Sitting at the bar, baseball cap pulled past her eyes. I could never mistake those shoulders. I walk past her. She doesn't see me. How could she? I'm not Janet and Sam never had a wandering eye. Others in the bar see me. I can feel their eyes on me. Fresh meat for the kill. I take a seat at a table, perpendicular to Sam. A man approaches me face blushed with drink, a lascivious look in his eye.

"Go away." I hiss before he can get within five feet of me. He saunters away, tail tucked between his legs. I suddenly realize why I've had to initiate everything - I can be a real bitch. I smile at the thought. I'm a bitch. Well, no, not really, Iris is.

Patsy Cline's singing on the jukebox. 'Blue, oh so lonesome for you'. The song is definitely not helping Sam's mood.

The bartender walks over. I order a Coke with a cherry in it. Thoughts of my plan fill my head. How will I do this? Should I use the soft sell or a full court press? The bartender returns with my drink. An extra cherry in my drink earns him a healthy tip. I pull one out by the stem, sliding the fruit into my mouth. A smile pulls at my lips. I have an idea. Sam, she'll never know what hit her. I move to the bar, taking the barstool directly across from her.

My poor Samantha, she looks like a lost puppy. I know she's hurting. Heard her voice on the machine, all loneliness and frustration. 'Hi Janet, it's me again. I just wanted to hear your voice. God, I miss you. Jack's a dead man when I get back to DC. Call me when you get in.' Plus, she's wearing 'the jeans'. Those jeans. The ones with the rip on the thigh. Then I feel the moisture accumulating between my legs, threatening to saturate the barstool. I have to hurry before I throw caution to the wind and take her on top of the bar.

I flag the bartender.

"What can I get you?"

"That woman over there." He's no longer staring at my breasts, or me, but the fifty I'm waving nonchalantly under his nose. "Whatever she's having, make her another. When she says she doesn't want it, tell her I knew she'd say that. Succeed and you can keep the change. Fail and you can kiss my ass. Figuratively, of course."

He takes the bill from my fingers. He knows what I'm up to. I can see the thrill of excitement in his eyes. Fine, let him have his fantasies. Go home and jerk off to thoughts of me and Sam dancing like sugar-plum fairies in his head. I don't care, just as long as he does as I say and stays the Hell out of my way.

The trap set, I toss my line into the waters. I leave my barstool walking towards her.

"She said you'd say that." I hear the bartender say. He really wants that tip.

Sam's eyebrows lift. It always surprises her, women finding her attractive. The life of an introvert discovering the world outside is actually interested in her. I saunter over to her.

"Is this seat taken?" Her eyes, slightly unfocused from drink, size me up, stopping at my breasts. It's always my breasts, isn't it, Sam?

"Not that I know of." She maintains a brave face. A fly fighting furiously against the sticky tendrils of my web. I think I see a flicker of recognition in her eyes, then it's gone. And I wonder if she truly knows it's me.

"You look like you needed a drink."

"Thanks."

"You on shore leave, sailor?" Sam flinches at the assumption.

"I'm Air Force." Sam is pure-blood, third generation Air Force, calling her Navy is a put-down of the worst kind.

"Ohh, can I call you fly-girl?" My humor rewards me with one of Sam's smiles. I cross my legs. More thigh revealed than I intended. But it has the effect I'm looking for. Sam's licking her lips, taking a healthy swallow of her scotch.

"I'm in a relationship." She tells me and I wonder if she really doesn't know it's me. Or if her poker face is really better than I expected.

"Aren't we all." I notice her toying with her wedding band. The one time in our relationship when I didn't initiate something. She caught me from left-field. Candle light, expensive dinner, even more expensive wine. Next thing I know, Sam is on bended knee asking if I'll be hers forever. I already was. The moment she flashed her smile.

"You gotta name, fly-girl?"

"Samantha, Sam actually."

"Pleased to meet you," She takes my offered hand. "My name's Iris."

"Named after a Goddess, how fitting."

"Why? Are you planning to worship me?" I pause, giving her time to pick her jaw up off the floor. I look in my drink. Pout. "Dammit, there's supposed to be a cherry in my drink."

"No problem." Sam, ever the chivalrous one, reaches behind the counter plucking a cherry from the bowl sitting exactly where I told the bartender to leave it.

She moves to place the cherry into my drink. My hand blocks the glass. Blue eyes puzzled and curious meet mine. I take her hand, moving it to my mouth. My eyes still on hers, I suck the cherry, fingers, et al, into my mouth. It's wonderful. Heavenly, the effect this has on Sam. And it ain't so bad on this end, either.

Sam's eyes are dilated now, pupils wide. Her mouth opens slightly, warm breath panting across her lips. I lick and suck her fingers, swirling my tongue around them until the last remnants of cherry are gone. Sadly, I pull her fingers from my mouth. I mean, I could do that forever, but we've attracted an audience and I want Sam all to my self.

"You staying in this hotel?" I ask.

"I think you know the answer to that question." Two thousand miles away from Colorado and Jack O'Neill still haunts us.

I laugh at her false bravado, sliding off the barstool. I have to. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep playing the subtle seductress with my clothes on. Sam's hand in mine, I pull her with me. Out of the bar, through the lobby and into an elevator.

Then, she's all mine. I pounce on her, pushing her into the elevator wall. Lips against lips, I press against her. My tongue pushes past her lips. She tastes good, a strange mixture of salt and scotch.

I bite her bottom lip. It was subconscious, a reflex of my new persona. Something snaps in Sam and now she's pushing me against the wall. She's kicking my legs open, hands shoving my skirt above my thighs. Oh God, yes, Sam.

"What's her name?" I ask breathlessly, grinding my hips against hers.

"What makes you think I'm involved with a woman?"

"Your tongue, my throat, a big clue." I'm really liking the new smart ass Sam. It makes me hate to admit it, maybe Jack is a good influence on her. Then again, so am I. My mouth finds her chin, nibbling lightly.

"Janet." She answers.

"Does Janet do this?" I take her hand and place it between my legs. Right on my heated sex, denied for almost a month, wet and starving for attention. Sam does not disappoint. Her fingers glide across my skin in a circular motion, driving me wild. My arms wrap around her neck, pulling her to me as we connect for another kiss. I'm wrapping a leg around her, offering myself to her. She pushes me, drives me to the deep, dark abyss.

The elevator doors open and Sam makes a noise that sounds a lot like disappointment. She grabs my hand and pulls me into the corridor. We're running, RUNNING to her room.

She starts fumbling with her room card. Her hands are shaking. Mine aren't. I wrap them around her waist, pulling that horrible shirt from her jeans. Her stomach flutters under my touch. Why won't the door open?

I bite into her shoulder. Hard. A hiss escapes Sam's throat and she's jiggling the card in the slot, trying to make it work. I unbutton her jeans, wondering if she's just as wet as I am.

The door opens and we're in Sam's room. Pulling, groping, grasping at each other. I'm on her shirt, ripping it open. God, I hated that shirt. Chest exposed, I see erect nipples poking through her bra. I lean down, sucking one into my mouth. And she's pulling at me again, taking me deeper into the room. I don't wanna go, I'm ready right now. The bedroom can wait.

I bite into her shoulder, hard, tasting the metallic salt of blood. A howl escapes Sam's throat, a sound I've never heard before. She takes me and slams me against the wall. Her hands grab my wrists, pulling them over my head, restraining me. For one brief moment, I feel fear. Real genuine fear. Fear I've pushed too hard, taken more than was offered. Blue eyes stare into mine with a look I've never seen before. Then I see it, realize what it is burning in those blue eyes. Lust. The fear is gone and my body hums with an ache almost painful in its intensity.

Her hands move, rearrange me until she's holding my wrists with one hand. Her eyes never leave mine. They watch me as she slides her hand lower, between my legs. She presses against my heat, hard. I don't have time to gasp, I don't even have time to breathe. She's pumping her fingers against my sex, fast and furious. It takes everything I have to send the message from my head to my hips - Hips, move!

She slides a finger inside me, then another, then another. Sam was always tentative about being inside me, slow and loving. Not now, she fills me until I'm bursting at the seams, stretching me to the point where pain mixes with pleasure.

I'm gripping at the wall, clawing at it. My hips thrusting onto Sam's hand, grinding her deep into me. How does she do it? Know what I need when I need it then gives me more.

My eyes are closed, shut so tight stars are forming in the darkness. I find my voice, calling to her.

"Oh yes, there, faster baby." It's better than I ever imagined. I don't realize she's moved lower until I feel her lips on my sex. She plays me like a violin. Every chord, every note, all in pitch perfect harmony, crescendos to the most exquisite climax. And I'm singing in a language as alien to me as any Sam's heard off-world.

My body slackens, ready to collapse against my Sam. She's there for me, lifting me in her strong arms and I'm carried into the bedroom. What happens next, takes me off guard. Sam tosses me onto the bed, gruffly. It's then I see it, the hunger in her eyes and I realize she's not done with me. I thought I'd found the edge and in her eyes I can see we're not even close.

Sam strips, clothes yanked off and thrown to the floor. She pounces on me, pins me to the mattress. Her blue eyes are wild, sparkling with fire and heat. She grabs the front of my dress and rips it open. It's tossed onto the floor in shreds. I don't care. My body shudders in anticipation. I am hers, fully and completely, and she knows it, can feel it, smell it.

I am submission. She is dominance. She knows what she wants and she goes for it. Her face dives to my chest. Nipple sucked into her adoring mouth with wild abandon.

My nipples never were what one would call sensitive. Oh no, they're exposed nerve endings jacked into my deepest desires. Sam could always make me come from just one touch, one lick of my nipples. She knows this. Knows what she s doing tortures me in the best possible way. She alternates her mouth from one to the other. I thought I'd found the edge. I was wrong. She beckons me towards it with her mouth.

Come with me Iris, she says with that thousand-watt smile of hers, I wanna show you something.

She takes me to the edge. Shows me the white hot electricity waiting for me below. But she won't let me go, keeps me hovering with her mouth. Teases, licks and suckles. Her body is between my legs and I want her to touch me there. Please Sam, I beg, touch me there. But, she won't. Bats away the hands grasping at her hair. All so she can keep worshipping my breasts. My round, full, sensitive breasts.

'I want it all, I want it all, I want it all, and I want it NOW."

I can't take anymore. I flip Sam onto her back, blue eyes wide in surprise. She's not the only one who can pounce. I throw her arms above her head. It's my turn to ride. I straddle her thigh, purring as I feel that muscled steel against me. I'm so close my teeth ache. Hands brace onto the bed, and I'm on her. My entire body one giant muscle and I'm pumping into Sam. Faster and faster. The bed's shaking. Headboard clanging against the wall. Thoughts of us careening through the floor fill my mind.

Heat against heat, I thrust and grind and pump. I'm nipping at her neck, gentler now. My mouth over her jugular, dark thoughts fill my head, one clasp of my teeth and I could kill her. I don't want to, never would. It's the trust that turns me on, her life in her hands, so willing, so ready.

I come first, spasming over Sam's body wildly. I don't think she noticed because I'm still thrusting into her. And she's so close, I can taste it. I pull my body from Sam's. A whimper escapes Sam's throat. It's the sweetest sound I've ever heard her make, all desire and want.

Moving down, I slide between her legs. My hands part her thighs and my eyes find the wet, soaking mound beneath. She's shaved, completely, a habit retained from her high school days on the swim team. Nothing but pink reddened skin, wet with her desire. I scrape my nails down the insides of her thighs, red welts marking the territory. There it is again, that whimper.

Sam opens her eyes, gazing down at me.

"I think you better hold on." I mean it. My tongue dances across her skin, tasting the sweet saltyness. Tip of my tongue trailing down her slit, until I reach my destination. Then, I plunge inside her, probing my tongue as deep and far as it will go. Her walls are slick, hot, and oh-so tasty, gripping my tongue in a dance of heat and friction.

I trail a finger around her sex, slickening it with her wetness. Then, I'm moving lower, teasing the tight opening below. A gentle push and I'm inside Samantha, fully, completely, probing her with tongue and finger. One final thrust with my tongue and Sam is gone. She convulses, bucks, trembles, velvety walls constricting around my tongue. I'm below, drinking the sweet nectar of my love, draining her of every ounce she has to give.

I continue lapping, even after she collapses totally drained. I'd stay there forever if I could. One final flick of my tongue and I begin my ascension, climbing back up her body. Our mouths meet again. The tastes on our tongue intermingling. I break our kiss so I can look at my love.

"Samantha Carter, you are an incredible lover."

"So are you, Iris." She teases me with my phony name. I reward her with a giggle. I straddle her, sitting on her stomach. Immediately, Sam's hands are on my breasts, fingers tease my nipples. The dull ache returns. I'm writhing now, slow and easy. My sex rubbing against the smooth muscles of her stomach.

I no longer feel the need to pretend. I pull the wig off, tossing it onto the floor. Sam looks up at me, her eyes wide in mock surprise.

"Oh my God, Janet." She teases me. I lean down, planting my hands by her shoulders. She feels so good against me.

"I have a confession to make, I had an affair."

"You did?" She moves a hand to my ass, teasing me with soft caresses.

"Yeah, a fly-girl with buns so tight I could've bounced a quarter off'em."

"Oh yeah, well I have a confession of my own. I picked this chick up at a bar."

"Chick, huh?"

"Yeah, she rocked my world so hard, I'm gonna have to buy a new foundation."

"Really? I'm not sure how I can compete with that." I feel her hand moving between my legs. She scrapes a fingernail against my still tingling nub and my entire world spins from a rush of electric heat.

"I guess we're just going to have to try."

And we do, many times. Sam takes me again, and again, and again, in a variety of ways. I offer myself to her. She is my love, my everything. I am hers, as it always was and forever will be.

THE END