Page 12 of Escape to Egypt

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Page 12 of Escape to Egypt

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What story?”

“Aladdin,” Jack said with a grin. “Seemed fitting.”

“Of course,” I said, laughing softly. “How very appropriate.”

Jack held out his arm, a gentlemanly gesture. “Shall we? I know a great place where we can eat. You’ll love it.”

I slipped my arm through his, and we headed out into the warm night. The restaurant Jack took me to was beautiful, with tables set out under the open sky. The air was warm, and the sky was a vast expanse of stars, twinkling like diamonds against the inky blackness. We sat outside, the soft glow of lanterns casting a romantic light over the scene.

Dinner was a feast of flavors, a selection of local dishes that tantalized my taste buds. We drank wine and talked, the conversation flowing easily between us. For the first time in a long while, I felt relaxed, at ease. I found myself opening up to Jack, telling him about my passion for art and history, about how much it meant to me to find those relics and prove my innocence.

“I’ve worked so hard to get where I am,” I said, my voice filled with emotion. “If I lose my career, I don’t know what I’ll do. My parents are in an assisted living facility now, and I don’t have a family of my own. My work is everything to me.”

Jack nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I get that,” he said softly. “I’ve had to make my own way, too. Forge my own path. I’ve been wandering for so long, driven by this need to see the world, to experience everything. But lately, I’ve been thinking it might be time to go back. Face my past. Settle down.”

I looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. “What’s holding you back?”

He shrugged, looking out at the stars. “Fear, maybe. Of what I’ll find when I go back. Of what I’ve missed. But lately I’ve been thinking that maybe I can find a new path. One that doesn’t involve running.”

There was a soft melody playing in the background, and I noticed people getting up to dance. Jack caught my eye, a question in his gaze. “Would you like to dance?”

I hesitated, then nodded. “I’d love to.”

He stood and offered me his hand, leading me to the small dance floor. The music was slow, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. We moved together, our bodies in sync, holding each other close. I rested my head against Jack’s chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. For a moment, everything else faded away—the mystery, the danger, the uncertainty. All that mattered was the feel of Jack’s arms around me, the warmth of his body, the way he held me as if I was something precious.

We gazed into each other’s eyes, the night wrapping around us like a blanket. Jack’s hand brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch lingering. “Ready to head back?” he asked softly.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. We walked back to his place in comfortable silence, the night air cool against my skin. When we reached his house, Jack led me inside, closing the door behind us softly. The atmosphere was charged, electric, and I sensed without a doubt where this was headed.

We didn’t say a word as Jack took my hand, leading me to his bedroom, and the world outside ceased to exist.

"Charlotte," he murmured, tracing the line of my jaw with his fingertip, his voice low and rough, filled with a mix of desire and something deeper, something I couldn’t quite name. "I've wanted this...from the moment I saw you."

My breath caught. His words ignited something inside me, a flame that had been smoldering all evening. I felt drawn to him, as if by some invisible force, a pull that I couldn't resist even if I wanted to. I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "Me too," I whispered.

Our lips met, tentative at first, a soft brush that sent sparks shooting through my body. Then the kiss deepened, becoming urgent, hungry. Jack's arms wrapped around me, pulling me against him, and I felt the solid strength of his body. His hands were warm on my back, holding me close as if he feared I might slip away.

We stumbled together towards the bed, our kisses growing more fervent with each step and by the time we fell on top of the cool sheets, my thoughts were a blur of sensation. Jack’s lips left mine to trail down my neck, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I arched against him, my hands sliding under his shirt to feel the hard planes of his chest. His skin was warm, his muscles taut, and the contact made my head spin.

He pulled back for a moment, his eyes dark with desire, and I could see the question in them, the unspoken need for assurance. I answered by pulling him back to me, my lips finding his once more. The kiss was a promise, a surrender, and I felt the last of my reservations melt away.

His hands were everywhere, mapping the curves of my body, and I responded with equal fervor, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Our clothes fell away, forgotten on the floor. Jack's touch was both gentle and demanding, his kisses filled with a sweet urgency that left me breathless. His hands explored me, every caress sending waves of pleasure through my body, heightening my senses. I felt alive, more alive than I had in years, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

He whispered my name, his voice thick with emotion, and I shivered in response. I could feel his desire, his need, and it mirrored my own. We moved together, a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing, a dance that was as old as time itself. The connection between us was undeniable, a bond that went beyond the physical.

Time lost all meaning. There was only the here and now, the warmth of Jack's body against mine, the softness of his breath on my skin, the sound of our mingled sighs. We found solace in each other, a haven from the chaos of the world outside. Our bodies spoke a language of their own, one of passion, trust, and intimacy.

When the wave of pleasure finally crested, it was like nothing I had ever experienced. I cried out, my body arching against his, and Jack held me through it, his own release following moments later. We lay together afterward, tangled in each other’s arms, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the night. I felt a deep contentment settle over me, a sense of belonging that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Jack brushed a kiss against my forehead, his hand stroking my hair, and before I knew it, slumber overtook me.

***

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of laughter, high and feminine, coming from somewhere in the house. I blinked, disoriented, my mind still wrapped in the haze of sleep. The bed beside me was empty, the sheets cool. I sat up, listening. There it was again—a woman’s voice, followed by the unmistakable sound of Snickers’ giggles.

Curious and a bit confused, I slipped out of bed, wrapped a robe around myself, and padded down the hallway. The smell of bacon greeted me as I approached the kitchen, and my stomach growled in response. I turned the corner and stopped short.

Jack was at the stove, flipping bacon, a spatula in one hand, his hair tousled and boyish. Across from him, at the kitchen table, sat a woman who exuded glamour even at this hour of the morning. She was dressed in a tight, low-cut silk blouse in deep purple, paired with sleek black leggings that clung to her curves. Her long, straight black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was immaculate, with winged eyeliner and lips painted a bold red. Despite the early hour, she looked like she was ready to walk a red carpet or host a party.




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