Twenty-Nine Cozy Bears

38

Tehran, District 5, Iran

It wasn't just the Mossad. Doug had nothing against the Mossad. No issues with meeting with them and sharing notes. It was the way they had to meet. The Mossad had strict communication protocols once a team operated from within another country. Making contact with them, even from their own office, was complicated. Complicated and meant to be. Proud to be. Which is all fine unless you needed to make contact for a briefing and didn't want to be here for a week.

Doug and Samantha found the house rented for them, and received the keys from the neighbor. The neighbor was not part of any intelligence network that they knew of, but stranger things had happened. Strange things often become deadly, so they played safe roles and stuck with their cover story. Once inside, they looked the place over carefully, searching for devices for listening or watching. This took over an hour. Once satisfied, they sat down on a stack of rugs and drank some of the iced tea the owner had left for them in the fridge.

"Two rooms is nice—though I doubt we'll put them to much use," Samantha noted.

"We sleeping on the carpets out here?" Doug asked.

"If I let you sleep," she said, as she took off her top. In seconds she had her bra off and laying on top of her discarded blouse, though she still wore the hijab—and he didn't know exactly how to ask her to leave it on—because it really did turn him on.

Wonder what that says about me? he asked himself. No answer came from the dim memory pools, ravaged by drought and doubt—the two psychology courses he went through at university.

"Are you getting undressed for my sake, or are you taking a shower?"

"For me, actually. I like being naked. Thought you understood that?"

Hearing it said felt like being told the sky was blue, but also felt solid, fettered. Confirmation.

Doug stood up, went to the large street-view window, and reached out to take hold of the linen drapes. He pulled them closed with a single yank, shutting out the bright sunlight and any judgmental eyes.

"Sorry about that, wasn't thinking. We were inside," she stammered.

He sat back down beside her and took her chin with a hooked finger, turning her gently so he could look deep into her eyes. Her eyes widened, and then a flash of doubt filled them with vulnerability. Then he kissed her and she melted against him.

They found themselves in the shower, then laying out on the carpets with each other, finding comfort and pleasure. He suspected that one reason she enjoyed being nude was the sex that inevitably followed. Samantha was a woman of focus, and that didn't change during sex. Her goal centers processed the energies, and she fell into them. She submerged into him, and them, and what they would be soon.