Jason knew he had to escalate the intimacy while maintaining the discreet environment Alicia clearly required, especially after the surprise discovery of the sidearm.
Day Four needed to be isolated, safe, and romantic. He called his friend, Jake, a man who valued privacy as much as he did.
"I need access to the perimeter, Jake. Total isolation. I'm bringing a date," Jason explained.
Jake, knowing Jason's unusual seriousness about this "seven-day challenge," agreed immediately. The perfect spot was the sprawling, perfectly manicured grounds known as The Glen, an expansive private park owned exclusively by Jake, reserved for his family and trusted few. It was miles outside the dense sprawl of Aethel City, nestled in a secluded valley, offering absolute security.
Jason called Alicia at ten in the morning.
"Day Four is a field trip. Something private, something outdoors," he announced, skipping the pleasantries.
"Be ready by two. Dress comfortably, but smart. We're aiming for absolute relaxation, zero chance of unexpected guests, and one hundred per cent security."
"Sounds like your idea of a vacation," Alicia chuckled, the first truly lighthearted sound Jason had heard from her.
"I'll be ready."
.
.
.
Alicia chose her outfit carefully. She settled on a long-sleeved white shirt dress—the hem reaching just above her knee—paired with simple leather sandals. The loose fabric felt freeing, a deliberate contrast to the restrictive tactical gear she usually wore. She still wore the sidearm, hidden expertly, but today, she was trying to forget it was there.
Jason arrived precisely on time, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and tailored dark pants, looking impeccably casual.
"You look like you're ready to conquer the wilderness," Alicia observed, stepping into his sleek sedan.
"We are conquering a picnic, Alicia. Just us," Jason corrected, smiling warmly. He noticed the soft fabric of her dress and the way the light cotton moved when she settled into the seat.
He drove for nearly an hour, navigating discreet security checkpoints and coded gates until they reached a truly secluded space surrounded by towering trees.
The Glen was breathtaking—a pristine slice of nature expertly sculpted by wealth and privacy.
Jason led her to a large, comfortable blanket already set up near a small, gurgling stream. A picnic basket awaited them, laden with charcuterie, fresh fruit, and chilled white wine.
"This is incredible, Jason. Whose place is this?" she asked, her eyes scanning the flawless perimeter fence visible only through the dense foliage.
"A friend's," Jason replied simply. "He owed me a favour involving his corporate security. It's the safest place in this part of Aethel City's jurisdiction. I promise you, there isn't another person within a mile."
They ate slowly, talking easily about non-critical things: favourite movies, books they hated, and the oddities of their respective industries. Jason shared amusing stories of past celebrity clients, omitting sensitive details, while Alicia offered terse, fascinating anecdotes about the discipline required to maintain a global corporation like hers. She deftly avoided mentioning the name Alicia Kara Enterprises or her role.
.
.
The afternoon sun filtered through the canopy, dappling the blanket in moving shadows. After they finished eating, they lay side-by-side, heads propped on their hands, watching the clouds drift by.
"You're very comfortable being still," Jason noted.
"Stillness is a tactical requirement," Alicia admitted, a faint smile playing on her lips.
"You can't observe everything if you're constantly moving. But here," she paused, looking at him, "here, I think it's just relaxation."
Jason turned onto his side, propping his head up with his hand. The black shirt emphasised the breadth of his shoulders.
"I haven't been this relaxed in months, Alicia. Thank you for agreeing to this ridiculous challenge."
"I think I'm starting to like ridiculous challenges," she whispered.
The space between them was magnetic, drawing them in. Jason reached out, tracing the silver line of the stream in the grass until his fingers brushed the soft fabric of her white shirt dress.
"Can I kiss you, Alicia?" he asked, the formal question a sign of respect for her previous hesitation.
She didn't answer with words. She slid her hand from under her head and laced her fingers through his, pulling his hand gently towards her.
Jason moved over her, supporting his weight on his elbows. He kissed her slowly, deliberately. It was nothing like the surprised peck or the urgent exploration of Day Two.
This was deep, possessive, and unhurried. Alicia responded immediately, her body pressing against his. The softness of her white dress, the warmth of the sun on the blanket, and the absolute silence of the secluded park heightened every sensation.
Alicia tangled her hands in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, demanding more. She rolled onto her side, pulling him with her, their bodies twisting together. The kiss deepened into a raw, consuming heat. His hands found the skin of her thigh beneath the light shirt dress, moving upwards with bold confidence. Alicia gasped, the sound muffled against his mouth, a new, primal sound that thrilled Jason.
She felt the overwhelming contrast: the sharp, focused mind of the commander dissolved completely into the dizzying, liquid sensations of a woman finally allowing herself pleasure. It was wild, abandoned, and intensely erotic.
The safety of the private park allowed them to let go fully, eliminating the need for constant surveillance and self-control. Every kiss, every touch, was a deliberate step across the invisible line Alicia had maintained for years.
When they finally broke apart, breathless, the white shirt dress was rumpled, the grass was pressed flat beneath them, and the entire world felt compressed into that small, secluded blanket.
Jason leaned his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "Alicia," he murmured, his voice thick.
"That," she whispered, her eyes still closed, feeling the sun and the lingering heat of his body. "That was not simple."
They stayed in that quiet, intensely intimate bubble for another hour, talking in hushed tones, touching frequently—a hand resting on a knee, a thumb stroking a jawline. The unspoken knowledge of what had just transpired made every gesture feel monumental.
"Day Four officially ends when I drop you off," Jason stated, finally sitting up. He helped Alicia smooth the folds of her white dress.
"And Day Five?" she asked, already anticipating the next move.
"That," he promised, standing and pulling her up to meet him, "is a surprise."
*****
Later that evening, after Jason had dropped her off with only a profound look and a lingering touch, Alicia's phone began to ring.
It was Kristen.
Alicia stared at the buzzing screen. She couldn't do it. She couldn't tell them.
She had described the nervous first date and the tentative first kiss with clinical detail. But this? The utter loss of control, the reckless heat in Jake's private park, the way she had actively participated in the steamy exchange—it was too personal, too raw, too embarrassing to package into a "gist" for her friends.
She let the phone ring out, declining Kristen and Lucy's subsequent conference call.
'I am a highly trained operative. I do not lose control. I do not blush. I do not indulge.'
Yet, her body ached pleasantly, her lips felt bruised and wonderful, and the scent of Jason's cologne clung to the white dress she tossed onto a chair. She was suddenly desperately shy of her own happiness.
The warrior was mortified by the woman she had become on Day Four. She knew she had to face them eventually, but not tonight.
She climbed into bed, pulling the covers over her head, wishing she could hide the glorious, humiliating truth of the steamy picnic from the world.