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

  "Let's go upstairs," he said. His voice was rough. He stood slowly, adjusting his jeans without bothering to be subtle. The door to the back of the bar was just a few steps away from her booth anyway, so it was just a show for her. She slid back into her heels, then took his hand and let him lead her through the door and up to his little apartment.

  It was a small one bedroom, as dingy and worn as the bar downstairs, but with the same feeling of care. It wasn't dirty, just cluttered and used. Lived in. Her own house had begun to feel sterile in the past week, and she had started to put together plans to redo it in various ways. It would be a lovely project. Having a home of her own for the first time in her life was its own kind of strange intoxication.

  Leo closed the door behind her, then turned to face her. There were a few beats of her heart where she wondered what would happen next. Would he push towards her, rough and hard, or move more softly? Would he continue the conversation from downstairs, or would he – she hadn't entirely conceived of what she wanted in the scenarios to come. She had spent plenty of time in the past week watching porn, reading erotica, stoking the coals of her interest into a slight but steady flame. But when she thought of her body being touched, her mind focused on how it would feel, less on what he would do.

  Before the pause became awkward, Leo reached out and took her hand in his. His fingers caressed her palm, sending a slight shiver up her arm. He turned her hand slightly so that her palm turned up, then drew her close enough to press a light, delicate kiss on the heel of her hand. A whisper of breath slipped between her lips, and he glanced up at her and smiled. He wove his fingers through hers and then led her through the small apartment towards the bedroom.

  Faith kept waiting for the moment where they crashed together and sense retreated, but it didn't happen. Leo was entirely different than any man she'd ever known – although, she had to admit, even to herself, that the list was short and not particularly involved. As they came into the room, he used his grip on her hand to draw her in, slow and steady, and pressed another kiss, this time to the pulse of her wrist.

  "You know," he said, his voice still conversational as he traced a slow path up the inside of her arm, "You get a lot of propositions when you're tending bar. I've never accepted one before." His free hand came to her waist, splaying down below her ribs, then moving up slowly to cup her breast in its thick padded bra.

  "Why did you accept this one?" She asked.

  He skipped from the crook of her elbow up to her neck, stepping in close to her. She could feel the heat of his erection against her body, and tingling warmth was spreading out from every point of contact between them. "You're beautiful. You're intriguing. And I wanted to say yes."

  "Good reasons," she said, and then his mouth closed over the lower lobe of her ear, and words fled as his teeth grazed her flesh. He pulled her back until he sat down on his mattress, then tugged her down until she straddled him. Her hips ached for just a moment, but then his hands clutched at her ass and she found she didn't mind.

  His hands came to her breasts, cupping them as he reached up for her mouth. The kiss was bright and hot, electric as lightning. She felt the tips of her breasts tighten, scraping harshly against the inner lining of her bra. Her hips shifted against him, seeking more contact, and he moved with her, urging her onwards.

  More. She wanted more contact, more skin being caressed. She reached down for the hem of her sweater, leaning back just far enough to tug it up over her head. He let out a whispery groan and dove between her breasts with his mouth, licking and nipping at the pale flesh that she'd exposed. She ran her fingers through his long ponytail and spent just a moment thinking about wrapping it around her fist and yanking him back to put him where she wanted him.

  Maybe next time, she thought to herself, and then shivered at the thought of a next time.

  He reached into her bra and scooped out her breasts, bringing his mouth to the tip of one while he flicked the other with his thumb. She groaned again, her teeth closing on her lip as her body warmed and heated from top to bottom.

  She felt like a teenager – awkward, desperate, and unsure of where to put her hands. He slowed after a moment and looked up at her. His pupils were so wide that they all but swallowed his irises, but he steadied his breath and stilled his hands. "Are you alright? Do you need me to slow down, or stop altogether?"

  Faith shook her head and tried to find the right words somewhere in her head. "It's – it's just been a very long time." She laughed, suddenly. "I don't know where to put my hands."

  He laughed, too, and then rolled them both gently down onto the bed. The comforter was a soft dove gray, microfiber, and it felt completely luxurious under her naked back. "I tell you what, then," he said. "Put them behind your head. Keep them there. Does that sound tempting?"

  Interest thrilled through her again, and she nodded. He took the time to unbutton his shirt and toss it onto a chair on the other side of the room, and she let herself enjoy the view. He didn't look like the kind of guy who hit the gym every day; he was a little bit on the heavy side, and had a thick coat of fur on his chest, leading down into his jeans. And god, somehow, without his shirt, his erection was even more apparent. "I'm regretting my promise already," she said, letting her eyes linger on the obvious bulge.

  He raised his eyebrows and then reached for her left hand. He pressed another one of those soft kisses into her palm and then brought her hand down, pressing it into his heat. His fingers tightened on her wrist, and he made a soft sound as he pressed her hand down. "Is that what you want?" He asked, and his voice wasn't conversational anymore. It was raw and thick and needing.

  "Yes," she said, kneading gently at him, her breath speeding up. "Yes, please. Very much."

  He leaned back and made short work of her trousers, licking at her inner thighs as he tugged them down and tossed them in the direction of his shirt. His own jeans followed afterwards, along with his boxers, and then he laid down alongside her, his thick cock pressing into her thigh. She reached for him again, sampling his girth, then exploring the feeling of his flesh. She'd never really taken the time to see what a man felt like in her hand; he was velvet wrapped around steel, and her breath was already fast and hard thinking about what was coming next.

  He was slick and wet against her hand when he gently pushed her hand off. "My turn," he said before he leaned over again, taking the tip of her near breast in his mouth again as his fingers pressed down into her pussy.

  It was delicious to be slick, delightful to be wet. She spread her thighs for him as he circled her clit, then slid down into her opening. There was only the soft kind of friction, the kind that made her gasp and whimper and arch her hips, looking for more of him. "Please," she said, the word blurring into a slight keen. "Please. More."

  "Where are the condoms," he asked, his voice tight again.

  It took Faith a moment to collect herself enough to reach over the edge of the bed to where she'd dropped her purse as they'd come into the room. She passed him one of the string of three she'd optimistically put in there during the afternoon, and then took the opportunity to explore his chest with her fingernails while he slid it into place.

  She expected him to cover her, but instead he lay back, his cock jutting up from his hips at an eager angle, and took her hands. "Take these off before I rip them," he said, gesturing at her panties and bra, and she giggled a little as she tried to skim them off without getting them stuck around her ankle. When she was as naked as he was, he pulled her up to her knees, then positioned her over his erection. "Your pace," he said, "your speed. I want to follow you for right now."

  She'd never done this. Never. She'd asked Roger, once, and he'd looked so upset and disgusted that she'd never brought it up again. For just one second, something inside of her twisted, and she thought it might all go to hell – but there was an amazing man beneath her, waiting for her with eager eyes, and the only thing she could possibly do was to run her body over his erection until she found the r
ight place for him to drive up into her, and then slide down to take him in.

  It did hurt, for just a moment. Nothing like the first time, so many years ago, but more than nothing. She hissed with a mix of pain and want, and then cried out as his fingers came to her body, finding her nipples and her clit as she took him in slowly, backing off and then sliding down just a little further. It was the best kind of burning, dancing on pain in a sharp edged way she'd never quite felt before. It was a pain that encouraged her to dive deep, to find the place where it evaporated into pleasure.

  When her hips met his, she gasped at the sensation. His fingers moved on her clit with a little more purpose, a little more intensity as she began to shift herself, taking him in and letting him out, finding the perfect angle to drive him up into her. "Yes," he murmured underneath her as he started to drive up into her just a little bit, meeting her with soft thrusts that drove her into the softest, most complete ecstasy she'd ever felt. She came with an abandon that shattered her, left her slamming down onto him as he met her, thrust for thrust.

  She collapsed down over him, and after just a moment's hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her back and held her gently as she started to piece herself back together.

  Chapter Five

  It was several hours later when she let herself out of Leo's apartment. He was asleep in the bed; she'd covered him up after she'd slid out of the sheets, and she'd taken the liberty of leaving her number in his phone. It had been a lovely night, and – well, she wanted to see him again.

  She dialed Jackson as she walked down the stairs and slipped out the back door of the bar, making sure that the push bar locked behind her after she stepped outside. He answered on the second ring.

  "How did it go?" His voice was tighter than she'd expected. Interesting.

  "Fun was had." She didn't exactly mean to be coy, but it was fun. "Now I want my prize."

  "Are you sure?"

  She had to resist the urge to laugh. "What, you think I don't want you because you told me to go out and get laid? Now I want you more."

  "Tell me about it," he said. The tension was draining out of his voice, and that was delightful. That was more than delightful.

  "Meet me at my house, and I'll do more than tell you," she said. She paused, and then laughed. What was the point in being nervous? "In fact, if you're in, he'd like to meet you at some point."

  There was a long, slow inhale on his end of the line, and then he was laughing too. "I think that might be nice. But for the rest of tonight, I think it'd be nice to have you all to myself. If you're willing, that is."

  She got into the car and turned the engine on, waiting until the call transferred to the car's Bluetooth system. "I'm very, very willing," she said. "Race you there."

  "I'm on my way."

  The End

  GAME PARK GAMES

  A STUDY IN BLACK AND WHITE

  Author: Maurice Bedard

  PROLOGUE

  For Americans Shirlee and Brad, their honeymoon, - “a safari in Zambia” - is taking place before their wedding. It’s a potential disaster for Shirlee, whom desperately wants to be in a safe lifetime relationship. With Brad she has established a “no sex before marriage” policy to ensure that they’re married before anybody discovers she’s not the strait-laced virgin she pretends to be. But sharing a tent on safari leads Shirlee to discovering that Brad is no match either in personality or sexual competence for the African foreign student with whom she previously had a torrid affair. Fortunately or unfortunately, their handsome Zambian safari guide is more than willing to step in. Shirlee soon finds she no longer believes a woman must have a permanent man in her life, and seizes on the opportunity to enjoy life in the present.

  Chapter 1 FOREPLAY

  Shirlee woke suddenly with the feel of a hand on her bare butt. Terrified, she swatted the hand off and sat up, holding her sheet in front of her, and started to scream.

  “Shirlee! What’s the matter? It’s me!”

  The sound of Brad’s voice stopped the panic instantly, but then she was angry. “

  What the hell are you doing in my room?”

  “O come on, Shirlee, we’re engaged. Why shouldn’t I be your room?”

  “Because we agreed you wouldn’t be!”

  “Surely you didn’t mean it.”

  “I did mean it!”

  “But being engaged is practically the same as being married.”

  “But not exactly the same. Brad you promised! I wouldn’t have agreed to go to Africa with you otherwise!

  “That’s ridiculous!”

  “It may be ridiculous to you, but it’s not to me.”

  “You’re very old-fashioned!”

  “Yes, I am! You knew that when you asked me to marry you! In fact, you said that’s partly why you wanted to marry me.”

  Brad had no reply to that. It was true. He had seen in Shirlee someone that would stay true to him no matter what. He’s thought he’d be safe with her. He’d agreed to her “no sex before marriage” demand reluctantly, thinking that that was a bit over the top, but if it was necessary, it was necessary. He figured that once they were engaged, she’d relent. And when she didn’t at first, he figured she would when they were on their way to Africa, away from her straitlaced family and friends. What had seemed tolerable in Lafayette, Indiana, wasn’t tolerable in New York City where they’d stopped over before the long flight to Lusaka.

  He’d tossed and turned in his bed, and finally persuaded himself that she would be doing the same. He’d been wrong. With bad grace he left her alone. It was early days yet. He’d read that with virgins, you had to take things slowly. “Sorry,” he said. “It won’t happen again.”

  When Brad left, Shirlee breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a close call. The bare hand on her butt had frightened her for about two seconds, but then had begun to burn in a way that heated up her whole being. If Brad had delayed any further before giving up, she figured, she would have been lost. The moisture between her legs told her just how close it had been.

  Her plan had gotten a lot more complicated than when she made it. She’d figured that she could hold Brad off until they were married. Then everything would have been OK. But the wedding had got postponed. Nobody could have expected an earthquake in Indiana. There never had been one before fracking had started. Whether it was fracking or not didn’t matter to Shirlee, but she couldn’t get married in a church with scaffolding and building dust everywhere. And the church was the church her parents had been married in, so had a lot of emotional resonance. And she couldn’t tell her mother exactly why she didn’t want the wedding postponed, so her mother had won. The only problem everyone but Shirlee saw was that the African safari that been planned as a honeymoon couldn’t be cancelled. There was a huge family council; they were a straitlaced family and a honeymoon before the wedding was not consonant with what they thought was proper. What’s more nobody they knew had ever done that, at least openly, which was important to the sort of family they were. It would have been impossible except that the safari was bought and paid for and the sum was huge. They’d tried to change the date but weren’t allowed to. Only then were voices raised, mostly among Shirlee’s generation, that the consummation of the marriage just a few weeks before the ceremony wasn’t such a terrible thing. Times were changing, after all.

  So common sense, meaning economic sense, prevailed and everybody but Shirlee was agreed, and she couldn’t say why she objected.

  The thing was, Shirlee wasn’t quite the prim virgin Brad and her parents assumed she was. It was a pose she assumed out of necessity rather than preference. Regarding her parents, it was a matter of damage control. They would have gone ape shit if they’d known that their strict control of her comings and goings, designed to protect her, had just the opposite effect, throwing her into Harry’s arms. She now acknowledged that they had been right, and that she’d be better off if she’d obeyed instead of rebelled. She had suffered exactly what they had feared she
might, though mostly she thought it had been worth it. Her lover’s intentions had been exactly what they said they would be. He had promised eternal love and fidelity and she had believed him. Her betrayal and abandonment at Harry’s hands had made her cautious. Once burned, twice shy. She was not going to make the same mistake again. When Brad had become her suitor, no way was she going to give in to him before the wedding ring was on her finger.

  She was beginning to waver, though. She had, after all, his ring on her finger. The wedding date had been set, and the trip to Africa was a kind of honeymoon, despite the fact that it was pre-nuptial. She desperately wanted, in fact, to give in. Harry had shown her delights that she had no idea existed, and then removed them cold turkey, so to speak. She was hungry and thirsty in a desert of her own making, but she was afraid. One abandonment was enough for one life.

  Chapter 2 THE HOME GAME

  Lying in bed thinking about the situation brought back to her the memories she cherished. She had met Harry at the University of Indiana. She was staying at home; her parents would never have allowed her to stay on campus. But though she had to get home every evening, there were lots of unfilled hours of the day between and after classes, and from the beginning Shirlee had been determined to make the most of them. Sex hadn’t been on her mind from the beginning; it was new people, new ideas and new experiences she sought. She emerged from her chrysalis a butterfly. She hadn’t known how many men would find her attractive. Plump rather than slim, she had assumed she was ugly, an impression her parents took care not to dispel. She discovered to her surprise that though she wasn’t one of the campus queens who attracted the jocks, she was sought after by the second ranks. She hadn’t dared to begin wearing makeup; it would have been impossible to hide it from her parents. But she discovered a whole substrata of artistic and socially rebellious guys who preferred her that way. Imitating the girls in their group, she adopted clothing that was deliberately unglamorous – homespuns and cottons, peasant blouses and hiking boots, and stopped shaving her legs and armpits. Her parents, knowing no better, applauded.