Chapter Eight

As we entered our home, neither Monique or I noticed the snapping of photos coming from a jet black sedan parked about five houses down from ours on the opposite side. I especially had no idea of who would be behind the camera. Lowering the camera from his face, none other than Malachi Ben-Gidon looked at our house, shaking his head. He knew Director David wanted him to spy on Ziva, but he had no idea that it was due to this. He was glad to have been able to place surveillance cameras around the house while everyone was out which would start filming whenever they entered the room. He set the camera on the dash and looked to the monitors in the passenger's seat.

When we got into the kitchen, I picked Monique up with ease and set her down on the counter. I watched her swing her legs a bit before I went to the fridge in the attempts of finding us something to eat. I decided to make chicken parmesan with a garden salad. As I started preparing the meal, Monique watched me, her eyes wandering up and down my frame. She licked her lips approvingly, wanting me. I noticed out of the corner of my eye, her jumping down from the counter and coming over to me. I felt her wrap her arms around my lower torso.

"Hello there, friendly." I remark, kissing her arm softly as I stirred pasta.

"Hello to you too, sexy lady." She replied, her hands sneakily going to unbutton my pants.

"Sneaky girl," I murmured, feeling her lips press into my shoulder blade.

Her right hand went inside my pants and she began rubbing my rhythmically as I cooked. I found it difficult to focus on the food while she was doing such heavenly things to me. Malachi's eyes were glued onto the screen of the monitor, having an impressive view of what was occurring in the kitchen. His eyes were wide.

"Ziva is a lesbian!" Malachi exclaimed under his breath.

He must have never had any idea, and I would not have blamed him. I was only with Rivkin because my father set me up with him, but I am not into men, nor would I ever be. And at that very moment I was only into one person, one woman. Monique's skillful hand continued to rub me, almost roughly. That night, with the food and the pleasure, I was in heaven. I moaned as Monique kept rubbing my clit as I stirred noodles. I put the sauce I prepared into a pan and started warming it up.

"Baby, please… I have to… to make the salad." I moan out in a disjointed fashion.

She smirked and allowed me to move a few feet over to the right where the vegetables and fruits for the salad lay. As I started with the lettuce, her fingers picked up speed. Shakily, I put the lettuce in the bowl and continue preparing the salad. As time passed I found it more and more difficult to hold back an even louder moan of sheer pleasure.

"Fuck!" I swore, gripping the counter.

Monique pressed her hips into my butt as her hand rubbed me faster, harder.

"Oh fuck!"

Monique smirked at this and kissed my shoulder blade. She kept going, nipping me through my shirt.

"Monique, I'm so close." I mumbled to her.

"I can tell." She replied with such a seductive tone that I felt myself getting even more aroused for the woman.

Moments later I reached my climax, Monique holding me within her arms so I would not go limp against the counter and get the rest of the vegetables dirty. I eventually came back down to earth, and watched as she went to wash her hands before assisting me in finishing dinner. As we happily consumed the meal we were blissfully unaware that we were being observed, like scientists watching rats in a maze. After cleaning up we decided to go to bed, feeling tired that night.

The next morning I woke up in the nude, lying next to Monique who appeared to be naked as well. I grinned, knowing that at some point in the middle of the night we must have made love. When I sat up in the bed, the sun was barely peaking over the horizon. I got up and grabbed a shirt from the little sofa-like piece of furniture beneath the window. It was a dark blue colored shirt with to interconnected female signs. I put it on, wearing nothing else.

Slinking out of the bedroom, I decided to let Monique sleep in. She did not have work that day. I rushed down the stairs and went to the front door. Seeming more out there, courageous, I stepped out of our home and stood on the porch. Shane McCutcheon must have seen me from her porch for she jumped off the side of hers and came over.

"Hey, Ziva. Morning." She said, cocking her head back slightly as she spoke in her deep voice.

I smiled to her.

"Hello, Shane. Good morning to you."

She silently laughed and took a hit from her lit cigarette. She must have noticed me eyeing the thing for after she took a hit, she held it out to me.

"Wanna try?" Shane asked, raising an eyebrow.

I felt a bit nervous. I had never smoked before… but there were a lot of things I had never done before until I moved to Los Angeles.

"I have not ever smoked before." I informed her.

"Well, there's a first time for everything, eh?" She replied, still holding it out for me. "Come on. Try it."

Shaking my head at myself, I took it from her and put it to my lips. I mimicked her previous actions and instantly I felt it, the nicotine and other drugs within it hit me. I coughed slightly and handed it back to Shane.

"Not bad." I remarked, not noticing Shane leering at my toned and exposed thighs and legs.

"I agree." Shane said, winking.

I blushed a bit and wondered what she was doing. Then again, I could not mistake her usual charm with flirtatiousness. That could be dangerous. I was undoubtedly in love with Monique… and nothing would change that.

"Nice shirt by the way." Shane pointed out. "I am glad you and Monique are taking steps to be more out."

I smiled.

"Thank you, Shane." I said as she pulled out another cigarette from her pocket.

"No problem," Shane replied, handing it to me.

This time I took it without questioning it and Shane lit it for me. That morning she and I shared cigarettes and stories as we sat on the porch. It felt good to pass time like this, and make new friends in this pleasantly welcoming community. It was then when I surely confident that Monique and I would get along quite well here.