Sophie Oak: Once Upon a Time in Bliss

Bill Hartman, former commando and wildly successful venture capitalist, now ran a nudist colony called the Mountain and Valley Naturist Community. It had been a shock to walk in and realize everyone was naked. Really, really naked.

“Henry Flanders.” It was his private ID. He’d bought it off a man in Mexico City. It was one of three passports the Agency didn’t know about. Bishop was a careful man, and he knew damn straight that even the best agent could be thrown under the proverbial bus if it suited the needs of the CIA. Bishop didn’t intend to get ground under those really large wheels. He’d always had an out if the Agency decided to burn him.

So he was Henry Flanders for now.

“You look every inch the college professor. Where did you get the glasses?”

It hadn’t been hard to change his appearance. He had one of those blandly attractive faces that people tended to forget. Throw on a pair of glasses and a blazer and everyone assumed he was an academic. “They’re not real. Just regular glass. I thought this would be a good cover in a place like Colorado. I thought about doing the cowboy thing, but Henry just didn’t seem like a cowboy name.”

Bill frowned from his wingback chair. Bishop had seen a lot of odd things in his time, but a naked man behind a power desk was one for the books. “I don’t know that would be a good thing. Our cowboys take their lifestyle quite seriously. If you aren’t prepared, they would figure out your ruse fairly quickly.”

Bishop doubted it. He was exceptionally good at what he did. If he’d created a cowboy persona, he would have written himself a history that no one could challenge. But he’d decided to go brainy. Henry Flanders loved history and shit. Maybe by playing the role of a guy who had all the answers, he could find some answers for himself.

“Are you all right with me staying here for a couple of days?” Bishop asked. He waited for Bill’s judgment. He felt oddly vulnerable even though Bill was the one without a stitch on. Bishop was waiting for Bill to give him a reasonable excuse why he should find a place in town instead of rooming at his precious resort. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Not since he’d been a twelve-year-old kid sent from home to home, always being packed up because he knew damn well no one really wanted him.

Fuck, what the hell was he doing?

Bill leaned forward, his face open and concerned. “Of course. You don’t need to ask. John, my home is your home, son.”

It felt oddly good to hear his real name. Years. It had been years since he’d heard it. He’d had so damn many names that he wondered at times if he still existed or if he’d become the ghost the Agency claimed he was. “Thank you, sir.”

Just for a week. That was how long he could give himself. He’d given his handler some dumb-ass excuse of chasing down a lead. He’d been intentionally vague. It would buy him some time. He’d earned back enough goodwill since the incident in Chechnya that got him sent to South America. Now South America was hopping with all kinds of potential threats so going silent wasn’t so unheard of. They wouldn’t give him hell for a few days.

If they realized he wasn’t where he said he was, that was when the trouble would start, but by then he would be back in the game.

Just a few days of freedom.

“Are you going to be all right with the lifestyle?” Bill’s lips quirked up. He leaned back as though trying to show Bishop just how relaxed he was with having his dork hanging out.

“I think I’ll manage.” Running around naked actually freaked him out a little. Clothes were such a part of his daily ruse that the thought of not being in costume was a bit disturbing. He glanced at the window to his left. Snow was falling lightly, blanketing the ground in a pure white powder. The mountains were beautiful here. Deadly, of course, since all things were, but beautiful. “So how do you handle the cold?”

“Well, I wear a coat outside, and I spend a small fortune keeping things toasty warm inside. I really wish you had come in the summer. There’s nothing like the high valley in summertime. It’s beautiful and you haven’t lived until you’ve gone swimming in a mountain lake with nothing but the water and the sun on your back.”

Bishop felt himself frowning. There was so much he didn’t understand about his former CO. “How do you do it, Bill?”

“Well, I take off my pants first. Some people will tell you to deal with the shirt first, but really it’s the pants that chafe.” Bill seemed to catch the deeply unamused look Bishop knew he was sending out. “Sorry, I was having some fun with you, son. Listen, the first few years out of the military were hard. I won’t lie to you about that. Some of the missions haunted me, but I found this place. I came up here with a friend who was in the lifestyle. I think I was a little lost after my discharge, and he seemed to understand that. For the first few days, I laughed at everyone. I kept my clothes on. They were idiots. But slowly I came around. It was stupidly difficult to take off my clothes. Sounds simple, huh?”

No. It didn’t sound simple at all. It sounded slightly terrifying, and now Bishop was wondering if he’d made a mistake, but he simply nodded and allowed Bill to continue.

“It’s not. It’s hard. Clothes hide so much of who we are. They’re an armor of a sort. The first time I took off my clothes and joined the group, I actually worried that they could see through me, that they would know the things I’d done. I was sure they would tell me to leave their paradise. I stood at the edge of the party like some blushing nine-year-old. And then this woman, this lovely, amazing woman, walked over and took my hand, and suddenly I didn’t see a dumb hippie liberal. I saw kindness and beauty. When the older couple who founded this place retired, I bought it and now I run this place not just for me, but because I want to make this mountain a place of peace. It’s everything I fought for, got my hands bloody over. This mountain is my reward for serving my country. I thought I had given up pieces of my soul, but this place and that woman gave them back to me.”

Bishop nodded, not entirely understanding, but happy for his friend. If this place brought Bill any measure of peace, then he would never say a thing against it. But he was sure his problems couldn’t be solved by walking around with his junk swinging.

Maybe this had all been a big mistake. Bill seemed to have reintegrated into the world, albeit an abnormal version of it. Bishop doubted he could ever do the same.

There was a brisk knock at the door and then it swung open, a lovely woman with dark hair walking through, followed by three other women. One was roughly the first’s age and the other two were young, possibly in their mid-twenties. Both younger women were brunettes, one with a sweet face and glasses, and the other caught Bishop’s eye.

Rich chocolate brown hair, startling brown eyes, and a mouth created to suck a cock. She didn’t seem to move the way the others did. She was so graceful and light on her feet even though she wasn’t tiny. Even though she wore a heavy coat, he would bet she had curves and hips and breasts. He’d wanted a distraction from all the crap in his life, and it had just walked in the door.

“Pam.” Bill stood immediately, every bit of his attention focused on the woman who had opened the door. Bill practically fucking glowed looking at her. “Callie. This is a nice surprise. Moira and Nell. Please come in and meet my friend.”

Bishop stood, straightening his jacket. He hoped Bill remembered the cover. This place seemed to have made him soft. His eyes went straight to the girl with the brown eyes, though she seemed to not even notice he was in the room. She took off her coat. Unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing her birthday suit. She was dressed in a perfectly respectable sweater and jeans, but he’d been right. She was petite but built for sex. He’d bet her breasts were a small C. She had a tiny waist that curved into luscious hips.