Passion For the Bear (Series 1, 2, 3 Compilation): White Spirit Bear Romance: Shifter, Erotic Romance, Suspense, Paranormal, New Adult Romance (Shifters Book 5)

by Michelle Hart

  Too flabbergasted for further exploration, she retreated into the living room and collapsed on the couch. Wishing it were all a dream, but too clever to think for a moment it was, she began to search her memory for any clue that she might have missed but failed to find a single one, except for his increasingly lengthy stays in South Africa which she had supposed were the result of an increased work load. When she could face it, she had to accept that the decreasing frequency of their love-making, which she had supposed was the normal cooling off of a marriage, was another clue.

  The fact was that they both had been living a lie for maybe two years. Jake had reverted to the polygamous life of this ancestors, but without the honesty of the traditional version.

  A thought suddenly terrified her. Had Jake married this woman? She had no doubt about the validity own marriage: she and Jake had married before he had ever heard of South Africa. But was there a marriage valid under South African law which meant that this woman was entitled to half of Jake’s property?

  That thought sent her in a panic to his desk where she found a number of personal documents, but no second marriage certificate. In fact, now that she could consider the whole matter more calmly, there was everything to suggest that the woman hadn’t lived with Jake, but had merely been a frequent visitor. There was no picture on the dresser, no woman’s touch in the furnishings, no cosmetics or feminine hygiene items in the bathroom. Except for the unexpected luxury, the apartment was exactly as she would have expected Jake’s apartment to be. That was slightly better, she thought, but only slightly. Her life was completely shattered. She fought tears. She would not succumb, but for several minutes she just shut down and thought about home.

  Getting a new idea, she took his bank book and statements and searched through them for any evidence of what Jake’s arrangement with the woman had been, and was pleased to find a regular monthly transfer made to a bank account, but no expensive purchases for things that might be gifts. If Jake’s relationship with the woman had been merely commercial, she felt better about it.

  She had been too complacent. She should have known that Jake’s need for companionship would lead him to make some kind of arrangement to secure it. And she also knew that in a strange place, for a man without any local ties, the easiest relationship to form was the one that Jake had formed. In the early years, she now recollected, Jake had made regular requests that she visit him, which a fear of air travel and general inertia had made her refuse. Poor dear, she had failed him.

  She found that since she couldn’t be furious with Jake, and yet had anger, she could direct the anger at the woman – that whore, that Jezebel! Free at last to be furious, she went to the kitchen and found a pair of scissors with which she slashed the dresses and the underwear and filling a black trash bag with the remnants and the shoes and left it at the trash collection point. For some reason she didn’t understand, she left the sex toys in the drawer. She had no intention of ever using them - at least that’s what she told herself - but they intrigued her.

  When she decided she had found everything that was going to be found in Jake’s apartment, she started to dismantle the bed, and discovered that she had been wrong. Tucked in the corner under the bed was a carton nearly full of pornographic magazines. Jake? Pornography? It seemed inconceivable. He wouldn’t! Not when there was live sex available, which there obviously had been. But perhaps, just perhaps, before he’d found a source of live sex or, as she preferred to think, when he was resisting betraying Tasheka, he might have used it for solitary satisfaction.

  She’d never looked at a pornographic magazine before and out of curiosity – at least that’s what she told herself – she began to leaf through them. Her first thought was that they were essentially boring. The same positions over and over with different performers. The bodies were beautiful, she supposed: the men’s penises extraordinarily long and the women’s breasts extraordinarily large. Jake’s penis had been satisfactory, but she had no idea what was normal for men’s penises. His had been the only one she’d ever seen. For a moment she imagined what it might be like to have sex with a man whose penis was the size of those in the magazines. Despite herself, she felt the liquefaction at the base of her spine that was the beginning of desire. She both liked and disliked that. The idea repelled her, masturbation with a porn mag? She had never stooped so low. But then, she’d never had to, and if that’s what Jake had done… what’s sauce for the gander could be sauce for the goose. And it had been a long time.

  As she was pondering that in the back of her mind, it suddenly struck her that a number of the couples depicted in the magazine were racially mixed. That was yet another thunderbolt. It had never occurred to her that Jake’s South African interest might be white. She tried to think if she had found anything that gave her a clue, but she hadn’t. If this were a movie, she thought, the detective would find hairs somewhere - on the man’s suits, or in the drain of the bathtub. Letting that thought move her into action, she minutely examined the suits in the closet but found nothing. She looked at the sieve in each of the bathroom drains and again found nothing. She supposed that the crime techs in the movie would remove the drains to examine them more closely, but she had no tools and anyway decided she didn’t want to know the truth that badly. She’d learned so many unbelievable things about the husband she’d thought she knew intimately, that another was inconsequential. But the idea stayed in the back of her mind.

  Chapter 5 NEW BEGINNINGS

  Tasheka knew that she had to start making decisions about what to have shipped to America, what to throw out, and what to send to charity. To make a start, she made the easiest decision and put the magazines in the throw away pile. She didn’t want to think about them, let alone keep them. The clothing was easy too; she had no need for men’s clothes. She rang Hansie and received from him the phone number of a charity, and immediately rang them and requested immediate collection. They were willing to collect, but were not very willing to say when they would do so. When Tasheka explained the situation, and described the quantity and quality involved, they changed their mind and promised to be there in less than an hour. She collected all the clothes and threw them in the pile near the door of the apartment.

  Next she went through the kitchen. The food in the fridge was all off, so was thrown out immediately. She wasn’t sure about the equipment: utensils, cutlery and crockery and phoned Hansie again to find out if it belonged to the company. Getting an affirmative answer was a big relief – another decision taken off her hands.

  She hesitated over the bedding which was silk. She’d never slept on silk sheets. The very large and thick bath towels, too, were tempting. But suddenly she just wanted to get rid of almost everything. She wanted nothing at home in Denver to remind her of this place. So she made a huge pile next to the pile of clothes and hoped the charity would want them. She thought one of the workmen might like them, so added them to the charity pile. That left only the papers and documents in his desk, and after a moment’s dithering, the sex toys. She and her friends might like to giggle over those. All that would fit in her luggage, she thought. If not the company would ship them.

  Her work finished, she wanted to get back to her hotel as soon as possible. She phoned Hansie to tell him she was finished at the apartment and waited impatiently for him and the charity to arrive. She suddenly realized she was famished, but there was no food in the apartment and she didn’t know where to find any nearby. To her relief, the charity were as prompt as they had promised and were clearly delighted with both the clothes and the bedding. Hansie arrived soon afterwards and she left the apartment behind without another glance. Leaving her new knowledge about Jake and his life in South Africa was not so easy to leave behind, however.

  When he dropped her at the hotel, Hansie offered to join her for a late lunch, but she declined. She wanted to be alone. In her room, she ordered a hamburger and chips from room service, and took a short shower before they delivered. She felt soiled.

&nbs
p; Fed and refreshed, she lay on the bed and took stock. She figured that she had learned that the husband she thought she could read like a book was an entirely different person than she had thought he was. But as soon as she’d formed that thought, she corrected it. He hadn’t been entirely different. The Denver Jake was real. She was sure of that. He had loved her; the way they lived in Denver had been his doing all the way. It wasn’t a sham. But Africa had changed him – not so much altering what he was but actually teaching him new things about himself. That wasn’t a bad thing. People who didn’t change became petrified.

  The bad was that he had been afraid to share what he had learned with her and teach her what Africa had taught him. That saddened her. However, she couldn’t blame him entirely. She had made it difficult. He had tried to share Africa with her, but she had refused and he’d been unable to tell her about it; he needed to show her. She could sort of understand that too. As glib as he was in conversations that didn’t touch his inner feelings, he’d always been tongue-tied. When they married and he led her on sexual education, he’d never once said anything about it, he’d just done it, and she was very thankful he had. Now, posthumously, he had once again shown her new things.

  When she looked at her life, she had to admit that it was very dull – comfortable, but dull. She hadn’t been dull when she was young; she’d just allowed herself to become dull. Jake had shown her that her life needn’t be dull. It would take courage, but what, after all, had she to lose. If her attempt to live differently in Africa was a failure, so what? She could go back to Denver wiser and better educated, but none the worse for it, surely.

  Well, she thought, Tasheka my dear, put your money where your mouth is. There was no reason why she shouldn’t. She had seen enough on the TV to know that in a big city you could hire people to have dinner with you. And, if she asked the hotel desk people, they could tell her how to do it. But she wavered and dithered. She had never done anything of the sort before. Finally, screwing up her courage, she ran down to the desk to put her in touch with someone she could hire to have dinner with.

  “You want an escort service, madam?” replied the man at the desk.

  “Yes, please.” She knew what they were called, but had momentarily forgotten.

  “Very good, Madam, I’ll have the one we recommend call you.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  There. It had been very simple. A dozen familiar words to start a new life with. She almost crowed. Fortunately it was only a few moments before the phone rang. Had it been any longer, her courage might have faded away. The woman on the phone asked her what she wanted. Answering that was easy. Then she asked more difficult questions. “You want a male escort for dinner only?”

  “Yes, dinner only,” she said firmly.

  “Very good Madam. Do you want a black, colored or white escort.?” Tasheka hesitated. She understood that in Africa “colored” meant mixed race; that wasn’t the problem. She was tempted to go to dinner with a white man, but then decided that was too big a step to take as her first one. “Black,” she said.

  “What age range were you thinking of?”

  Heavens! She had no idea! She stuttered, “mature” before she’d really decided, but once it had been said she thought it was the right answer. She didn’t want a toy boy. She was sure of that. [And where, she wondered had the phrase “toy boy” come from? She hadn’t known she knew it.]

  “Very good, madam. And what time do you want him to arrive?”

  Tasheka hadn’t thought about that either. Things were going too fast. “I don’t know,” she managed.

  “In South Africa, the usual time for dinner would be between 7:00 and 8: 00. Shall we say, seven?”

  “That’s fine.” The woman then took down her name and the name of the hotel, and then added, “For dinner only that will be five hundred Rand. He will ask for it in advance. If you change your mind and want additional services, there will be additional charge of R400.”

  No, I’m sure I won’t want that.” After Tasheka put down the phone, she thought it had all been much easier than she had thought it would be. They must be used to ignorant people like me, and she could tell from my accent that I wasn’t South African.

  She had time for a short nap – if she could sleep. But in fact, as soon as she lay back on the bed, she was asleep. It had been an exhausting day. When she woke up, there was time for a soaking bath. She dithered over what to wear, but in the end decided it didn’t much matter. It would be he who was on approval, not she, after all. By the time he arrived, she had almost changed her mind yet again. There was no reason why she couldn’t just give him the money and send him away.

  Chapter 6 THE FIRST NIGHT OF THE REST OF HER LIFE

  When the knock at the door came, and she opened it, her doubts fled. He was an entirely normal sort – nothing flashy or outré. What was she expecting, she wondered, pastel jeans and gold jewelry? He was of average height and weight. How reassuring he was! She supposed that the receptionist of an escort agency must have been trained to guess what the client wanted. If so, she’d been well trained. Suddenly she realized that she had been keeping him at the door for rather a long time and apologized as she invited him in.

  “That’s entirely OK. I’m a total stranger, after all. But I hope before the evening’s over, we’ll be friends.

  Tasheka looked him in the eyes and liked what she saw. She saw kindness and compassion. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. Suddenly she saw what Jake had found and thought she might find it too. “I hope so too” she replied.

  “That’s a good start. I’m Solomon.”

  “I’m Tasheka.” They shook hands and then Solomon asked where she wanted to go for dinner. “I’m a stranger in Jo’Burg. You suggest something.”

  His first suggestion was the restaurant she had been to with the four company men. “I’ve been there. Another suggestion? “

  “What find of food do you like?”

  “Seafood, maybe.”

  “You know, Jo’Burg’s not a good seafood place. Everything’s frozen. How about Thai?”

  Tasheka had never had Thai food, but her agenda for the night was new things. “That’s sounds great.”

  “There’s a great Thai place just around the corner here. We could walk.”

  “That sounds perfect.”

  “Could you lend me R500? I forgot to go to the ATM before I set out.”

  And that was the beginning of a perfect evening out. Tasheka found Solomon a very congenial companion. Of course she knew that was what he was paid to be, but he was the first person since she left Denver that she could talk honestly to, and she found herself opening up to him about her situation and her new discoveries about Jake, and her decision to lash out herself in new directions.

  When they got back to her hotel, he asked, “Would you like me to come in for an after dinner drink?”

  Tasheka started to say, “No, thanks.” But then she thought, Why not? Why ever not? So she agreed that was exactly what she wanted, and as soon as they got to her room, she handed him 400 Rand before he asked for it. “Thanks in advance,” he said with a smile.

  “You’re very welcome.”

  They ordered drinks from Room Service, and sat on the sofa chatting amicably. For the first time Tasheka felt a bit uncomfortable. She’d never been in this situation before and didn’t know what the drill was. She’d got the idea somewhere that in commercial sexual encounters, kissing was taboo. But she wasn’t sure. But then she thought that he knew. That in part was what she was paying for. When the drinks came, he took a sip, and then gently took her glass from her hand, set it on the coffee table and leaned over and gave her a companionable kiss, removing her doubt on that particular point and asked her if she wanted a quick shower.

  When Tasheka said she would, he asked if she would mind if he joined her. It was a completely new idea for Tasheka and she hesitated, but only for a moment. “Not at all! “

  “Ok,” he said, �
��you go ahead and I’ll join you in a minute. Tasheka saw the tactfulness of that. Faced with stripping off with a stranger watching was uncomfortable, which she hadn’t expected. So she went into the bathroom, stripped and stepped into the shower and let the hot water stream over her. When he slipped in behind her and began what turned out to be a kind of full body massage with the hotel’s body wash, all uncomfortableness was gone. She simply enjoyed the feel of his hands sliding over her. Staying behind her, he pressed against her as he slathered the body wash over her shoulders and breasts, and she could feel that what he was doing was having the same effect on him as it was on her. As he moved downwards, her excitement mounted. This is delicious, she thought, and wished Jake had introduced her to it a long time ago. Her knees were growing weak and the flesh of her thighs fluttering when he turned her around and grasping her buttocks, lifted her onto his erection. My God! she thought. He’s strong enough to lift even me!

  About the same height, they could both stand upright while he began a gentle movement, which she instantly joined, thrust meeting thrust until she began to moan and long for it to go on forever and to reach climax instantly. Several times he brought her close to the edge of the abyss, and then stopped all movement to keep her from falling over it. Each time the edge was higher and her hunger for release stronger, until at last he suddenly increased his pace and she went gliding through the ether, seemingly forever.

  He turned off the water, and placing his lips over hers, he reached for a towel to dry themselves off. The feel of the silken furriness of the towel on the nerve endings of her skin was exquisite, and before she was finished drying herself, she felt her passion rising again. Feeling her breath quickening, he said, “Ready for bed?” And when she nodded, He led her to it and laid her gently down onto it. As he finished drying himself she looked at his body for the first time, and the sight of its muscular excellence increased her readiness to receive it in her, and she spread her legs as wide as she could. Seeing that no further delay was necessary, he accepted the invitation without delay and plunged into her with none of the delicacy he had shown in the shower. It was soon over, and leaving her sated and exhausted on the bed, he left her, dressed in the living room where his clothes were, and left, leaving his card on the desk. “Thanks very much!” murmured Tasheka, but she doubted he heard her, and felt a moment of abandonment before she was asleep.