Tarnished Heroes
A Daniel Jackson
Stargate SG-1
Adult FanFiction Series
By
Moon Mistress
a/k/a Lisa Beth Darling

Chapter Twenty

Caught With Your Pants Down
AC/DC

Saturday Night

Off World

In Lord Bacchus’ Chambers Samantha Carter, Lord Bacchus, five other women and three other men were very, very busy. Bacchus was behind Sam sinking deep into the folds of her ass, there was another man below her and she sucked on the third one’s cock. Every orifice filled to ecstatic capacity, Sam never wanted to leave this place. Two of the other five women were buried the pile fucking each other with a dildo and licking from one cock to one aching cunt and to another hard cock and back again. The other three women were deeply engaged with each other at the moment but they would join the group soon.

Teal’c found no problem in pleasuring the four beauties he’d selected. His hard ebony cock was firmly sliding between the mounds of two firm white breasts while the fingers of both hands worked the women on the bed and his tongue slid into the one standing over him.

General Jack O’Neill was just as given to the throes of desire as the rest of them. Though he’d rather have Sam here to join them, he was quite content with the wet pussy sliding down on him and watching the woman behind her slid a big dildo into the ass of the one above him. It was firm beneath his cock and made her cunt tighter. The third woman was sucking between the legs of the one with the dildo fingering herself and patiently waiting her turn.

Wine, Women and Song, wasn’t that what every boy wanted? Tonight Daniel Jackson had his hands full with all three. Sequestered away on a quiet part of the green the drums beat soundly in the background while the women danced for him and the wine flowed like water. There was an endless supply of it; everywhere one looked, there was a chalice, glass, carafe or cask for the taking. The heady scents of fresh meat roasting in open pits and open unhindered sex filled the air. Half-sitting and half-naked in the grass with a chalice in his hand he watched three of them dance while two of them came forth with a small container of oil.

The two buxom brunettes stripped Daniel of the only thing he was wearing, those green fatigues, and began to oil his naked skin with something that reminded of chocolate.

He took another drink and held it out to the woman working her hands so deftly across his chest she skittered away with a smile and came back with a full glass. The wine filled his head and the women made him horny. Again, the light sweet scent on their hands came to him….

There was something familiar about it though he couldn’t put his finger on it at the moment.

The sweet brunette who had been oiling his legs—Nadia, her name was Nadia—began to work her way up his inner thigh. Before him, the naked brunettes with the big breasts and wide hips danced and swayed in the firelight to the smoky beat of the drums. They rubbed up against each other and suckled each other’s nipples, taunting him, teasing him, daring him to come and join them.

Taking another drink of the cold dark wine in the jeweled gold chalice there was a soft tink of metal against metal. Looking down he noticed a small gold ring on the third finger of his left hand. Where did that come from?

The warm oily hand, which had been tantalizing his inner thigh, slipped over his balls and grabbed hold of his hard shaft. Daniel took down the last of the wine in the oversized glass. It spilled down his lips and over his chest as he drank and he wiped it away with the back of his hand while tossing the cup into the grass. “You.” He pointed to the woman in the middle of the three who were dancing. “You.” Daniel reached out for the one with his cock in her hand. He lay back in the grass gazing up at the full blood-red moon while the two he commanded took turns sucking his cock. “Good,” he groaned, “More.” Daniel demanded he hands reached out for their heads and pushed them further down. “Come,” he pointed to the one on the left who was still dancing for him. With sparkling brown eyes, she settled on the grass near him. Reaching out with harsh lustful hands, he brought her up and straddled her over his face.

She was bittersweet, not like…

Daniel tossed her off as though she were nothing more than a blow-up doll. He called for the next one to come and do the same while the two below sucked him off. Again, she was bittersweet and again he tossed her off and away from him. The two rejected women lay down on the grass near him and began to make love with each other. Daniel called for the last one. Soria that was her name. She was young and probably not as experienced as the others were. With a hesitant step, she came and straddled his head. Daniel’s tongue slid into her. More sweet than bitter but still not…

His finger slid into her, she was tight. Possibly more inexperienced than he first thought. The two at his waist were working feverishly to bring him off and while they were good at what they were doing, they weren’t the best he’d ever had. Though now he couldn’t remember what woman that had been either.

No matter how many fingers he slid into the girl above him or how hard the women below him sucked on him, he couldn’t get the annoying thought out of his head. This was no time to eat a candy bar.

Calla took the taxi back to the hotel alone and directly went against her sons’ wishes. Exiting the cab in front of the hotel, she decided to wander around for a while. It was still light out and surely, she wouldn’t get lost this time, even if she were half-baked. Calla walked what she thought was only a small distance down the street in the daylight she came upon a storefront and in the window was pale green ball gown with spaghetti straps and a sequined front. Her first thought was of her daughter and how beautiful she’d look in it on prom night. Walking into the store, she asked the sales woman if they perhaps had the dress in a size 9? Why yes they did. Calla took the dress and held it up in front of a mirror. Colleen would look like a princess in this. Turning the price tag over in her hand she noted that lovely satin and sequin gown was priced at your average $1500.00. No matter, it was perfect. Calla took it to the register, handed over the credit card, which was in both their names, and then took the gown back to the hotel.

The concierge informed her she had several messages, most of them from the press who the hotel staff had been kind enough to shoo away from the sidewalk and front door. On her way up to the room, she shuffled through the little pink slips of paper and then tossed them into the trash bin as she entered the room. Calla hung the gown on the hook behind the closet door.

“What a rotten day.” She mumbled and then looked at the gown once more. “But not a total loss.” Early tomorrow afternoon she’d be on a plane headed for Colorado and home. Even though Daniel wouldn’t be there for another week, it would be good to go home. However, first she had to get through tonight and her dinner with Andrew Hartley. The clock by the bed said 6:01. Where had the time gone? She’d one gone into one store. Nonetheless, there it was several hours had passed and she was to meet Andy in an hour.

Calla had half-expected Nicholas to return to the hotel after his baseball game but she saw no sign of her son. Too bad, she’d like to take him to dinner. She still had a little time; Calla picked up the phone and dialed home. “Hi, honey.” She said when Colleen answered.

“Hi, Mom. How’s it goin’?”

“Well. Miss me?”

“Sure”

“Everything all right? Do you need anything?”

“No, everything’s cool, Mom.”

“Have you seen your brother? How did his game go?”

“I dunno, Nick hasn’t been home yet.” That was odd because Colleen thought he’d gone right to New York after the game. “He’ll probably be home any minute.” That wouldn’t be good.

“Yes, probably.” Calla agreed as she twirled the phone cord between her fingers. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I love you.”

“Love you too, Mom.” Colleen hung up the phone and went back to fucking Sandy. Yep, she thought Nick was in New York. At the moment, she didn’t care where he was. She was riding high in the saddle and loving every inch of it.

Sandy’s hands were over her tits and his thoughts were of that threesome with her mother. Yeah, he’d love to have that experienced little red haired cunt sliding up and down his hard shaft while his tongue explored Coley’s holes. Maybe he could bring a dildo or another person, Jerry would love that. They’d work those bitches over good. “Fuck it, Cole, ride me baby.” He moaned.

“Like this?” She slid all the way and all the way down his naked cock. Sandy had forgotten his condoms tonight but that was all right, she trusted him. He didn’t have any diseases and he promised he’d pull out before he came. Besides, she was just aching to have him inside her again.

“That’s good, baby.” Sandy moaned and moved his hands from her tits to her hips. “You know what would be better? Let me put it in your ass.” Her hips stopped moving as her blue eyes looked down at him. “Can’t get you pregnant that way.” Sandy encouraged as on of his hands slid down to the slippery crack behind her and began to play with the outside of that sweet untouched hole. “Trust me,” he said softly. “Come on baby get on your knees.”

“I thought I told you not to come back here!” Nicholas roared from behind them and ripped his sister off Sandy. “You wanna fuck him, huh, Cole? You think he loves you?” Nick spat. “Ask him what he was talking about in the locker room after the game.”

“Nick, just chill out, man.” Sandy said and held a hand up in front of his face to block any coming blows from the big guy. “We’re just havin’ fun. It’s just sex man, what’s the big deal?”

“You heard it; I didn’t make him say it.” At first he wanted to rip into her and let her have it, tell her that he’d told her so and goddamnit why didn’t she listen to him. Coley was grabbing the blanket off the bed and covering herself. She was crying. Now he wasn’t mad at her he was pissed at Sandy again. Nobody reduced his sister to tears, humiliated her like this and got away with it. “Get the fuck out of my house and don’t you ever come back you sorry son of a bitch!” Nicholas grabbed a naked Sandy by the scruff of the neck, hauled him down the stairs and tossed him out the front door. “Stay the fuck away from my family.” He slammed the door on the naked boy.

“What are you even doin’ here, Nick?” Colleen asked when he came back into her room. She’d jumped into her pajamas and soft robe. Her eyes were red and swollen she was still crying. “You’re supposed to be in New York with Mom.”

“Yeah well I just had this strange feeling that I should stick around a while.” That and after his locker room scuffle Nick was too pissed off to do anything but slam balls down at the batting cages for a few hours trying to get rid of that pent up aggression.

“Was he really talkin’ about me in the locker room?” If he had then that meant it would be all around school by Monday morning.

Nicholas sat down on the bed next to his sister, slung an arm around her shoulders, and pulled her close. “He’s an asshole, how many times have I tried to tell you that?” Her heart was broken and now was not the time for ‘I told you sos’. “I’m sorry, Cole. I know you really loved him.”

She reached out and wrapped her arms around her brother. “You’ll beat him up for me?”

Nicholas let out a little snicker. “I’ll knock his dick in the dirt, don’t you worry. And anyone else who says anything.” Nicholas kissed the top of her head.

“Thanks.” She felt like such an absolute idiot as she wiped fresh tears away from her face. “What about Mom?”

“Aw, she’s fine. The tour’s over and she said she wasn’t gonna meet Hartley tonight, she’ll be home soon. I’ll stay here with you and make sure that bastard doesn’t come back.” He assured her. “You’re too much like her, you know that?” Nick remarked.

“How’s that?” Colleen didn’t think that being like her mother was an inherently bad thing.

“You trust too many people, the wrong people. You wanna think everybody’s good and they’re NOT.” He warned. “They’re not, Cole. Ya gotta be smarter than that.” Nick encouraged. “When I tell you some guy’s an ass and not worth your time, I mean it. I’m lookin’ out for you. I don’t wanna sit here and watch some jackass walk on you and break your heart.”

“You’re a good brother. I love you, Nicky.”

“I love you too, Cole.” He gave her a hearty squeeze. “It’ll be all right, don’t worry. C’mon, let’s go get some ice cream.”

It was Colleen’s turn to snicker, that was Nick’s answer all the problems of the world; ice cream. In Nick’s opinion if all 6 billion of them would just sit down and have a heaping bowl of Fudge Ripple everything would be just ducky…and she was the naïve one? “Yeah, let’s go.” A pint of Ben & Jerry’s and tube of cookie dough sounded really good right now. “Think we could pull out the old sofa bed and watch movies downstairs? Like when we were little.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” Nicholas stood up. Mom was ok and he didn’t have much of anything else to do tonight might as well stay here and take care of baby sister. She needed a friend.

“I think Sandy’ll be back.” She bemoaned and pointed at his pile of clothes on her bedroom floor. The two of them broke out into laughter. “I can’t believe you pushed him out of here NAKED!”

Nicholas grabbed up Sandy’s clothes as they made their way downstairs. “Go on into the kitchen.” Nicholas went to the front door. Sandy was sitting behind the wheel of his car in the driveway and he seemed very shaken. He should be…asshole. Nick opened the front door and walked over to the car. Sandy locked the door and cringed behind the wheel. Nicholas dropped his clothes—and car keys—by the driver’s door and walked away without looking back.

Saturday Night

New York City

Dinner was very lovely. Calla expected to feel out of place in the fancy restaurant but instead she felt right at home here in the dimly lit restaurant and in Andy’s company. All through the meal, they talked about art, artists past, present and up, and coming. She began to wonder why she as ever afraid of meeting with him to begin with. His plans for her work were wonderful and he seemed genuinely interested in her as a person and an artist rather than being some shyster who was just out to sell her work to the highest bidder. Andy had very prestigious connections throughout Northern America and Europe.

“I see you brought your portfolio,” he said as dessert was laid on the table. “I would have looked at it before--I’m dying to see it, you know, love.” He confessed. “The light in here is so poor. Would you mind if we go back to my brownstone?” The look in her eye said no. He prodded a little further. “We’ll have a drink and look these over. The night is young and my driver will bring you back whenever you’re ready.”

The night was young and she was having a very nice time. “Yes, I’d like that.”

“Lovely.” Andy knew he was taking a big risk taking her back to the brownstone. After all, he found her wandering around outside it last night. She was utterly lost and completely confused and so grateful to hear a familiar voice, leading her inside was nothing. Perhaps one or two of the paintings or sculptures she admired the night before would trigger her memory when they arrived in a while. The thrill was almost unbearable. Andy always liked living on the edge. So far as they’d sat and talked over the last hour or more, she’d shown no signs of recognizing him at all. Although she did seem unusually drawn to him, she’d touched him three times during the course of dinner. Not that he minded. “Ready to go, love?”

Calla nodded. Andy rose and pulled the chair out for her; he helped her on with her shawl, dropped $150.00 on the table and then led her toward the door where the limousine was waiting. The car was quite something, Calla liked it very much. It had a bar, a refrigerator, television with satellite and DVD, a state of the art stereo system and more. It was big enough to hold at least eight people very comfortably. She’d never ridden in anything like it. The car was almost the equivalent of Cinderella’s Carriage.

A quiet ride through the busy city streets and the car was coming to a haul tin front of Andy’s brownstone. Like the man who owned it, it was very neatly kept flowers lined the sides of the walk behind the wrought iron gate. More flowers in pots adorned the steps and small stone front porch. “Well, this is it I’m afraid, Chez Hartley.” Andy joked with a smile as the chauffer opened the door and let them out. . “I’m so glad you’re here, dahling.” He shut the front door to the brownstone as Calla stepped inside.

The brownstone had a large open floor plan at least on the first floor; from the entryway, she could see the living room, dining area and kitchen. Everywhere she looked paintings, photographs and sketches hung on the walls while sculptures stood guard on pedestals around every room. “Your home is lovely.” Calla remarked.

“Thank you. Here, give me your shawl, love. It’s very becoming by the way, very Stevie Nicks.” Andy’s hands landed softly on her shoulders and removed the light jacket from her. “Feel free to gaze about if you like. I shall get the brandy.”

“Did I thank you sufficiently for rescuing me this morning?” Calla asked as she walked further into his lair. With every turn of her head, she was more and more pleased with what she saw. Daniel liked art but their home was filled with things that were more along the lines of Old Relics and Ancient Artifacts—both of which had their artistic qualities—as for paintings and sculptures and photographs, it was mostly her own work that adorned her home. Every where she looked there was bold color or stark contrast and strange angles and things that just made you go ‘hmmmm’. Mostly it reflected its owner a man of wealth and extremely good taste, it was charming, warm, colorful and somehow familiar. She felt right at home in the fancy digs.

“I think you thanked me before that, love. I saw your pictures.” Andy commented and handed her a large ruby crystal snifter of brandy. “I just have to say it, love, please pardon me for being so rude, but, you have a very beautiful body, Calla.” Andy knew what she’d think about his statement and it was what he wanted her to believe; that he was speaking of those recently uploaded photographs.

First Gretchen and now Andy saw the photographs on the Internet...hell why stop there???? The whole fucking world’s seen me by now. That was me right? Or was that someone else the media hounded at the museum? How lovely. She turned away from him and toward one of the paintings on the wall while downing the glass in one gulp. Calla didn’t know if she should be grateful or dismayed that Daniel was away. At least he was spared having to go through the humiliation of the gauntlet. Still she felt empty without him; it would be good to have him here. But he wasn’t. She’d just have to find a way to cope without him. “I haven’t seen them.” She remarked to no one.

“You haven’t? Don’t be shy, dahling; you are the absolute pet of the Art Community now. Royalty, sheer royalty. I feel as though I should bow or something.” Andy said in an admiring voice and sipped of his snifter. “Being in the presence of such a talented and stunningly beautiful woman is humbling. Refill?” Without waiting, he took the empty glass back to the kitchen and returned with a full one. “Sit down.” Andy led her to the couch. “Show me your work.”

Paintings. Photographs of paintings. That was what they were here for and she’d been lugging around that leather zippered portfolio all evening. “I hope you’ll like them, they’re not much.” Calla said as she put portfolio on the coffee table next to her brandy and opened it. She’d brought photographs, mostly in 8x10 but some of the smaller pieces that she particularly liked she tucked into the leather case and laid them out on the table. “Well, what do you think?”

Last night was just the opportunity to satisfy his own animal desires and he knew he was damn lucky to have gotten away with it. Tonight here she was again, none the more knowledgeable than the day before, and it was time for working on building that trusting relationship he wanted. Andy leaned over the table, glass of brandy in one hand and steadied himself by placing the other hand on her knee. Turning the pages of photographs, he drank from his glass and softly squeezed the skin beneath his hand. “I was expecting…darker works, like those you so often show.” He commented with some disappointment. “These are lovely, don’t get me wrong and yes, dahling, I think we can do great things together. Don’t you have anymore of those others? Perhaps you’re working on one?” Andy inquired with a smile as he eased back on the couch next to her.

“Those…works…are, well, they’re really quite old, most of them anyway.” Calla explained and reached for the glass. “I don’t have many of them left.”

“Do your old friend Andy a favor, will you love? Work on a few, they’re very popular. My investors are just itching to meet you. When can we set that up? While you’re here, yes?”

“No, I don’t have the time. I’m leaving tomorrow.” The brandy was strong but she drank half of her second snifter in one shot. “Who are they?”

“I can bring them by before that, love.” Andy sipped from the brandy in his snifter and gazed at her from over the top of the glass. “Just friends of mine, really.” Andy said lightly and moved a little closer to her. “Friends with oodles of money. They think your work will considerably increase in value in the near future.”

“Why would they think that?” She finished off the last of the snifter and set it down on the glass coffee table. Usually the only time an artists’ work considerably increased in value was after they were dead.

“They think you’re very talented,” Andy explained softly as he picked up the fine hand-cut crystal decanter and refilled her ruby glass with the amber liquid, “as do I. Yes, I think you are probably a woman of many extraordinary talents.” The hand, which had not yet moved from her knee, began to slide upward. “Do you partake?” He asked with a knowing look in his eye.

For the first time since she’d met Daniel, she found herself nervously looking back. “Pardon?” Calla asked as she gazed down at his hand steadily making its way up her thigh.

Andy smiled at her. “Do you smoke, dahling? You know marijuana?”

Oh, well, now that sounded good! “Yes.” Calla said and immediately brightened.

“Wonderful, I had a feeling you did, now stay right there.” Andy rose and walked away to a room down the hall. When he returned, he had a good-sized wooden box in his hands. “Name your poison, love.” He said as he sat next to her and opened it. “Weed, a little cocaine perhaps?” Andy looked at the woman next to him she looked as though she’d never seen most of this paraphernalia before. “A little crystal meth?” He invited and watched her closely trying to gauge her reaction. “Pills, perhaps? I’ve got some oxycotin and valium and…”

The contents of the box captivated Calla along with the sudden knowledge that she wasn’t the only person on the face of the Earth who kept such a stash. Everything in the sweet smelling box except the weed, glass pipe and little green pills were new to her. “What is it?” She asked as she fingered through the contents. “What does it do?”

“Which one?” This was getting better and better, no wonder she’d responded so well to the Rohypnol last night. “What strikes your fancy, love?” Calla didn’t respond to him she just kept staring into the box and rummaging around. “Let’s start with the pipe, you like that, don’t you, love?”

“Hum,” Calla smiled guiltily at him.

Andy laid the box on the table and stuffed weed into the glass pipe he handed it over to her. No need to break it up first it was sense and therefore had no seeds with which to contend. Soon the room filled with the strong scent of pipe weed. “Have all you want, love, I’ve got plenty.” Andy poked around in the box while she smoked the pipe.

Coke? No, he didn’t want her wound up.

Pills? No, she’d had too much alcohol already—he wanted to fuck her not kill her.

Blotter Acid? No, too strong he didn’t want to drive her mad.

Finally, his hand closed around a Ziploc baggie. Ah, there, we go, love. That’s the ticket. “I know, let’s make tea.” He said happily and went into the kitchen.

Calla gazed into the box a few moments more before following him into the sharply applianced kitchen with the pipe and lighter still in her grasp. “What kind of tea?” She took another hit off the pipe. Her head was tingling as she lazily made her way further into the kitchen.

“You’ll like,” Andy said and poured water into the kettle from the tap. “It’ll make you giggle.”

Now she was intrigued, Calla liked to giggle. What harm could there be in giggling? Taking two cups from the cupboard she watched as Andy took the shriveled brown things out of the baggie and placed two in each cup. “What are they?”

The water started to boil. “Mushrooms.” Was all he said as he poured water into the cups. Half full, he stopped and placed the saucers on top of the cups. “We have to let it steep a few minutes. Hungry love?” Andy went to the fridge.

Calla walked up to the saucers on the counter. “No, I’m still full from dinner, which was excellent by the way, thank you very much.” She said politely and took another hit off the pipe. Well if he was just going to give the pot away she might as well be the one he gave it to. She kept trying to hand it to him but he just kept ignoring her. The bowl was almost empty now. Feeling more than just a little lightheaded, she sat down on one of the kitchen stools. Perhaps she should slow down a bit; Calla put the pipe down on the counter.

“Calla?...” Andy’s voice seemed to come from far away. “Calla?”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled as she turned her eyes up to look at him. Andy was holding his ponytail in one hand.

“Do you mind?” He asked for the second time. “I’d like to get a little more comfortable.”

“No, it’s your home.” Calla watched as he pulled the elastic and a fine cascade of blonde hair covered his shoulders. Andy unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt, undid the cuffs, and very carefully rolled them up. He kicked his shoes off and lined them up neatly under the small center isle.

“I think the tea is ready. Kick your shoes off, love. You might be here a while.”

“I might?” Calla asked. “I should go, it’s late.”

“This is New York the night has just begun,” Andy said and took the saucers from the cups. “You might want a bit of honey. It’s a bit bitter.” He pushed the steaming cup toward her. “Don’t be afraid, I’m here with you, nothing bad will happen.”

**

Tea cups empty, Andy and Calla sat on the plush sofa listening to the stereo and talking about things which would have made no sense whatsoever to the casual listener but them, well right now they were bloody geniuses! That tea was wonderful stuff. Calla didn’t like the taste of it at all but the effect made that suffering worthwhile. Shoes off, her own hair down, feet up on the glass coffee table and the pipe in one hand, Calla leaned back into the soft cushions and rode the mildly hallucinogenic wave with childish delight. She giggled and laughed over the stupidest things, she just couldn’t help it. If she waved her hand in front of her face, it made these really neat trails. She couldn’t stop doing it, up and down and over and under she waved her and her fingers before her eyes, laughing all the way. Everything just felt happy and warm.

The hour was late and she was glad no one was waiting for her back at the hotel. Calla started to think that, if Andy didn’t mind, she might just sleep here on his couch tonight. That was if she got tired and went to sleep. The giggly stuff was keeping her awake at past one in the morning.

“Dance with me, love.”

Calla stood up on very unsteady feet and reached out for him. “Just one dance,” she said softly. “I should go.”

“Oh, yes, just one dance.” Andy agreed as he took her into his arms. “After that, if you want, I’ll have the car take you back.” One of her smalls hands in his and his other arm around her slender waist. Sade on the stereo. All of those delicious little vices swimming around her head making her unsteady and causing her to lean him against him… for support…of course, nothing more than that.

It was very very late when she looked up and smiled at him.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said in a soft voice, “you can slap me later but I am going to kiss you now.” Andy’s head descended, his pale blonde locks cascaded over her fiery ones just as his lips embraced hers. Very soft and prodding at first, he waited for her to push him away but she didn’t. Just the slightest bit his tongue parted her soft lips and slipped into her mouth. Calla’s heart was beating rapidly against him. Then she stepped away. Again, he waited this time for that slap. She was more flustered than angry.

“This is very flattering,” she stumbled over the words and blushed. “I’m married, Andy. I love my husband.”

“Oh, dahling, of course you do.” He agreed easily. “I’m sure he loves you too. I won’t tell him if you spend the night with me.” His hands ran through her hair while he gazed into her and watched her think it over. “No strings, guilt free, I promise.”

Guilt free? Hardly. Calla stepped further away from him and forced a smile. “You’re very handsome and charming. If I weren’t married perhaps I would like to stay but I am and I really should leave now.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Don’t hold me against me, hey love? Can’t blame a bloke for trying, can you?” Calla blushed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Seriously, dahling, please, don’t let my libido stand in the way of our business venture.”

“No, I won’t.” Calla turned around too quickly and lost her balance. Andy caught her before she could crack her head on the coffee table. “Oops, sorry.”

“Quite all right. I never complain about having a beautiful woman in my arms.” Andy settled her on the couch. “Just sit there, I’ll call for the car.”

Andrew Hartley, charming proper Englishman that he was, saw Calla directly to her hotel room door and bid her good-night somewhere around 4am. On their way home, he had the driver go past Central Park, which was out of their way. It was a lovely night even if he didn’t have that red head in his bed again. That was all right. Andy had her last night and when he got home, he’d look at those photographs and run those old tapes to relieve himself of those frustrations. It was more important that she grew to trust him and not pushing further when she’d so politely turned him down was a good foot in the door.

End of Chapter Twenty of
Tarnished Heroes
An Adult Stargate FanFiction Novel
By
Moon Mistress
Continue to
Chapter Twenty-One