Method(51)

Lazily I draw an X on his back while trying to stifle my laugh.

“I need all your fingers,” he groans, “not just one.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll love this. Crissss, cross, ap-ple-sauce.”

He lifts his head and turns to address me over his shoulder. “What in the hell is criss cross applesauce?”

“It’s a Swedish technique, trust me,” I say, pressing my lips together to hide my grin. “You’ll love it.”

He shakes his head, red-rimmed eyes closing before he plants his head in the pillow. “If you say so.”

I start from the beginning as if the interruption ruined my process, but when I tap the back of his head with the side of my closed fist and belt out the rest, he goes stiff beneath me. “Crack an egg on your head!” I slide my fingers in an ooze-like motion down his back, “feel the yolk gushing down.”

“What the fuck, Mila?” He groans into his pillow too tired to move.

I’m already laughing when I smack my fist against his back.

“Stab a knife, in your back, feel the blood gushing down.” I walk my fingers up his toned muscle and spout the rest in a sing-song voice. “Spiders crawling up your back, spiders crawling down.”

“Worst masseuse ever,” he grunts. “Are you being serious right now?”

I’m barely able to get out the rest through my snorts. “S-S-Snakes slithering up your back, snakes slithering down. Criss cross app-le-sauce.”

“Swedish, woman? What kind of fucking torture was that?”

“You didn’t like it?” I say, bursting into laughter as he lifts to pin me beneath him, eyes narrowed. I shrug in his hold unable to hide my smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t ask me for massages.”

He shakes his head with a knowing grin. “That’s a man’s tactic. Do a shitty job so they don’t ask you to do it again. And Mila, baby, don’t ever do that again.” He leans in further with a flash of teeth. “You little weirdo.”

“None of the other men in my life have had a problem with it,” I smart. His eyes glaze over with something that looks a lot like jealousy.

“Good thing I’m the only one left.”

“Are you?”

He nods as the air between us charges with something indescribable. “I’ll be the last man standing. I assure you.”

“Ah, and how will thee persuade me?”

“Oh, trust me,” he says, sliding his hand down my body and pulling up my silk negligee before slipping thick fingers inside my panties, “I’m gonna get the girl. Even if she’s shit at giving a massage.”

“Think so?” I say breathlessly, already pulled in the undertow.

“I know so.”

“Do your worst, Hollywood,” I murmur just as he presses inside me and takes all the words away. He spends the next hour torturing me with delayed gratification before we collapse in a heap, limbs tangled, whispering softly before we drift to sleep.

On my last night in Cairo, once filming has wrapped for the day, Lucas rushes us back to the hotel to freshen up. Just as I tie my sandals, he enters the room with a black insulated bag.

“What’s in there?” I ask, gathering my hair into a loose bun on top of my head.

“You’ll have to wait and see.” He takes my hand. “Ready?”

“Yes, I just need to grab my purse.”

“You don’t need it,” he says before tugging my hand and whisking me into the back of a waiting SUV. Once we’re in, the driver takes off without a word.

“What’s going on? Where are we going?”

He strokes my wrist with his thumb putting me at ease but doesn’t answer.

“Can you at least tell me if I’m dressed okay?” I didn’t get a chance to pack well with our time crunch. He leans in and kisses me silent, and I let him. Within the hour we’re stopped, the darkness outside making it impossible to see where we are through the thick tint of the windows.

Lucas gets out with the bag and leans in on the frame of the door.

“Hold on a second.”

“Okay.”

He shuts it, and the driver joins him. They exchange words at the back of the car where the trunk is lifted briefly and then closed. Lucas opens my door with a thick comforter in hand, one that matches the type at our hotel, and ushers me out the SUV. When I see what waits outside, my jaw drops. He’s standing in front of the pyramids shadowed by the full moon. “Oh, my God. Lucas, oh my GOD!” Lucas seems satisfied with my reaction, a dazzling smile lighting up his face. “It’s pretty incredible, right?”

“I can’t believe this.”

“How about we taste some wine here?”

I’m already nodding. “Yes, please.”

We are parked directly in front of the Sphinx, and I see the towering Giza pyramid ahead, the smaller of the two pyramids to the left of it. The driver speaks briefly with a few waiting guards, and then we’re led to an easy access entrance before we’re set free to explore for ourselves. The view is indescribable. It’s like walking through a screen saver. We stroll along the rough terrain for a few minutes until we’re lined up with the marvels that point heaven’s way.

“This is incredible.” I look at him thoroughly impressed. “You bring me to one of the Seven Wonders of the World? You’ve outdone yourself already, Hollywood,” I say jokingly. “It’s all downhill from here.”