Black And White Ops: A BWWM BBW Military Romance by BWWM Club, Aaron Steel Page A

Someone once told him the best place to hide was in
plain sight. The coffee shop qualified with the local branch of the
SVR visible through the window.
    Two women in blue sat
across from them. They were blond and had taken their coats off. Rick
sat quietly and observed them while Monique leaned against him with
her eyes closed. He kissed her on the ear to wake her a few times,
but let Monique sleep. She’d been very busy early in the day
inside the small amber room. Rick closed his eyes and felt his
erection return with the memory of it. He’d promised her a trip
to one of the fantasy rooms in a big King of Prussia hotel once they
returned to America. He meant to keep that one too. Just as he
intended to marry the curvy woman he was holding. Time to put his spy
game to rest and use the money he’d saved for the ranch in
Florida. He closed his eyes and imagined plowing his fields in the
day and going back inside to plow her in the evening. He once knew a
guy from the country who claimed to have twelve brothers and sisters
and whose mother would always pray her husband would get lost on the
way home when it rained.
    The women in blue
were still playing with their hair. Rick kept his short so he
couldn’t understand all the fuss. He did like women with long
hair and had slept with a number of them who had waist-length manes.
It made sex a little confusing because they had to spend time pinning
it up. Quite the mood killer when you can’t see your lover on
top of you because the hair is blocking your vision.
    Both of the women
were wearing open-toes heels on their feet, which must have turned
them blue after one or two blocks. He found it amusing the lengths
people went to just for fashion. He had a few suits at home, but
tended toward jeans and t-shirt between assignments. Simple engineer
boots worked for him most of the time, although he was wearing
running shoes right now. He noted that Monique had grabbed a pair of
leather boots with heels when they left her apartment. It was going
to make it difficult for her to run if they found themselves in a
tight spot. In this weather and terrain running barefoot was out of
the question. If he had to, Rick could carry her on his back, but
hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
    A young man came by
with a broom and dustpan, sweeping the floor near them, but ignored
Rick when he asked him in Russian if they should move. Rick tried a
few other languages, but he still acted like he couldn’t hear
them. Rick decided the young man must be another undocumented worker
from one of the former Soviet Republics who had come north to find a
job. Like in America, he was probably underpaid and working for cash.
Monique was still sleeping soundly while leaning on him.
    Could they be
sisters? he wondered about the two women in blue. He had thought as
much when they first walked into the coffee shop, but not now. One
was tiny and thin, very typical for a Russian woman in this part of
the country. It was why so many supermodels came from this part of
the world, although the tall ones tended to hail from Siberia. The
other was on the curvy side, which was becoming more common as the
typical Russian had a greater access to Western-style food. Both were
playing on their cell phones, another bad habit imported from the
west. It was nine in the evening and the big nightclubs would soon be
opening. Rick avoided those places if he could. The music was too
loud and the men rude.
    Just as the women in
blue left the room they were replaced by two people entering in
motorcycle leathers. He couldn’t tell who they were as both
were wearing helmets and in the process of removing them when they
stepped into the coffee shop. These had to be foreigners. The man
looked to be in his forties and had a rough exterior with long hair
bundled up in a ponytail. The girl with him looked no more than
eighteen and was looking up to him with respect. He wondered if they
were father and daughter until she leaned up to him on her