65. Mobile
The last time had been before they were together, still partners contending with their sexual attraction towards one another. Now in their fifth year of marriage, with a six year old daughter and two year old son, not to forget his eldest at age seventeen, they were once again undercover, and once again residing in a mobile home.
Back in 2009 they'd slept with their backs to one another in the double bed that took up the majority of the space, him clad in sweatpants and a Flyers t-shirt, she'd driven him crazy by wearing one of his FBI t-shirts that he'd given her to wear one night when she'd stayed at his apartment. She'd never returned it and he'd never asked for it back.
Nine years later they slept facing one another, her nestled tightly against his chest, both of them naked, arms and legs intertwined, her left hand resting beside her cheek, silver wedding band shining in the moonlight.
Nine years ago they'd rocked their temporary home, a hand on either wall, leaning from one side to the other in order to continue their act as a married couple. This time they'd rocked their temporary home, only with the added extra of their combined noises as well as the harsh creaking of the mobile home on it's wheels— him taking advantage of the lack of small children nearby, evoking moans, groans and screams from her as he'd made love to her in the small space.
However, the position they awoke in remained the same— her spooned against his chest, and this time around, they took full advantage of it.