Her First Time With A Bear (BBW Shifter Romance)
Read Her First Time With A Bear (BBW Shifter Romance) Online
Authors: Harmony Raines
Tags: #General Fiction
Her First Time
With A Bear
***
All rights reserved. This book, or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written consent of the author or publisher.
This is a work of fiction and is intended for mature audiences only. All characters within are eighteen years of age or older. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, actual events or places is purely coincidental.
© 2014 Harmony Raines
Silver Moon Erotica
Kindle Edition
Paris
“What do you mean you’re going away for a while?”
“Exactly that, I need a break.”
“But how am I supposed to manage?”
“You can pick up my shifts at the bar.”
“They wouldn’t hire me. I have no experience in bar work.”
“You’re smart, you'll soon pick it up.”
“What about college, between my studies and working for Ted. I’m already struggling to catch up.”
“Then drop out.”
This took the wind out of Paris's sails. Her mom continued to shove most of her clothes into her suitcase, not taking any notice of her daughter's pleas. As usual, she had made up her mind to do something and she was going to do it, to hell with the consequences.
Paris had lived through this too many times to know she could change her mother's mind. The only difference was that this time Paris was old enough to be left behind. Abandoned. All the other times her mom simply dragged away from the friends she barely had time to make, and taken wherever her mother decided to go.
It might sound like a good way to see the country, in truth it had meant being dragged from one dump to another. Nothing ever planned. It meant school had always been a struggle for Paris, no matter how hard she worked. It was why she was so proud of being accepted into college. She wanted to make a future for herself, and her mom.
Yes, Paris had realised a long time ago she would be responsible for her mom as she grew older; the role change had already begun. Paris dealt with the house finances on top of everything else, or they would have been evicted months ago. Her mom saw the money in her purse and spent it. No planning week by week for bills.
“Look, Paris. I am going, and you have a choice of your own to make. I never really liked the idea of you going to college, gives you big ideas that will never happen. Get a proper job, earn your own way, it’s how I’ve always lived.”
Paris kept her mouth shut, knowing her mom too well. The fact that she worked a weekend at the local garage, doing the paperwork and answering the phones, using the money to buy food and pay some of the bills escaped her mom. Bringing it up now would cause a big argument, and her mom would leave anyway, feeling more than justified in her actions.
So Paris left her mom to it, going to the kitchen, only to find the mess her mom had left from earlier. With a sigh she ran water into the sink until it was hot and began to wash the dishes, wiping the surfaces until they shone, trying not to think about how she was going to cope.
A car horn sounded outside. Paris had to force herself to go out and say goodbye to her irresponsible mother.
“Now, don’t worry about me, I will be having a great time,” her mom said, pulling her sunglasses over her eyes.
“I’m sure you will,” said Paris, hating the way she sounded. To make up for it she gave her mom a hug. “Please take care mom. Do you have any idea when you will be back?”
“Not really. I’ll give you a call when I’m settled. Wherever that might be. I’m thinking somewhere by the beach.”
“Isn't it a bit risky, not knowing where you’re going?” Her mom's case was already loaded in the taxi, and Paris knew she was wasting her breath. Still she had to try. “Please, mom. What if something happened?”
Her mom came back to stand in front of her, looking at her sadly. “Paris, life is meant to be lived. Not holed up in some stuffy college learning things that don’t really matter. I never had an education, but I’ve not done so bad, have I?”
Paris looked at the woman in front of her, the woman who had given birth to her. Sometimes it was hard to believe they were even related. When she was only ten she had come to the conclusion that she must be more like her father, who ever he was. It was the only explanation for the differences that were like a wide, unnavigable gulf between them.
Now she sadly watched her mom disappear into the distance, and felt unbearably alone. Despite everything, her mom was all she had. Her upbringing had left no room for best friends, or any longterm friends for that matter. Although she had finally managed to persuade her mom to settle here for the last six months, so she could finish her course, she had never allowed herself the luxury of friends. Paris had neither the time nor the energy for a meaningful social life. She often envied those who did.
Going inside she made a cup of tea, absently stirring the mug until it was too strong, but her mind had wandered, out onto the moors she longed to explore, into the forest with their ancient trees. She had promised herself that this summer she would take her books and go study under their wide protective canopy.
Now she would have to put those plans on hold, study would be something she squeezed in on the bus to school, and over meals, because she would have to pick up all of her mom's hours to make ends meet. Either that or find a small room to rent, and give this place up. Her heart grew heavier; she loved it here, for once when her mom had taken off to somewhere new she had liked it, and felt at home for the first time in her life.
Her mom sometimes found it too remote, but the bar gave her all the excitement she needed. So they had stayed. On winter's nights it had been spooky, odd sounds in the forest, shadows of things she thought must be part of her dreams. Yet never had she felt threatened, always at peace.
Pouring the milk into her tea, she grimaced at the dark colour, but could not be bothered to make another one, so she sat down at the small kitchen table. Pulling her books out of her bag, she tried to concentrate on the essay she was supposed to be writing, but her mind was now drawn to the clock, ticking away on the wall.
What was she going to do? She doubted her mom had let the bar know she was not going into work. If Paris went in and they were short handed they might let her take on her mom's shift on a trial basis. Not that she wanted to, her collage work would suffer even more. However, Paris lived in the all too real world, if she wanted to stay here, she would have to work hard. There was no free ride, and no knights in shining armour. And certainly, no fairy godmothers.
That settled it; she would change and go down to the bar, her mom's shift started at five. By leaving now she would have time to get there and explain what had happened, and go from there. Hire her, or fire her mom, that was the choice. If they did not take her on, she would have to look for some other work.
How, she wished she had a normal life, with a normal family.
Her wardrobe did not seem to hold anything suitable to wear. She had seen what her mom went to work in, skimpy tops and tight jeans, much too revealing for her age in Paris's eyes. But maybe not everyone thought that about their mom, she never failed to attract men, another character trait they were opposites in.
Nevertheless, there was no way Paris could wear anything like that, her curvy body was not a thing to be showed off. It was one of the reasons she did not want to work in the bar, she could not stand to hear cruel jibes about her weight.
In her head she knew she would stick out like a sore thumb in the kind of bar she was going to. Not that she had been inside it, but she had seen the outside, and knew it was the place where all the locals drank. The kind of place where a stranger walking through the door would get that look, the one that said you had landed on another planet even though you had only walked ten paces through the door. Paris would get that look tonight.
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she muttered to herself, grabbing the only pair of jeans she possessed and putting on a loose shirt.
There, that would have to do.
***
The bar was about two miles away, and Paris decided the walk would do her good. Although she also did not want to spend her precious cash on bus fare until she knew there was going to be a steady flow of it. She had already checked her mom's secret stash of cash. All gone. It was hard to stem the growing panic inside her.
It was a beautiful warm evening, early spring and everything was fresh. Everything except Paris, who simply felt worn down and older than her twenty years, far older. At some point, she had become the adult, and her mom the child. Until she left college there was no way of changing her life. She would have to do what she had always done, one foot in front of the other.
That was exactly what she did to end up in front of The Den. This close up it did not look as bad as she had thought. It was clean, with a fresh coat of paint, but something about the place was off putting, if you did not belong, you should not go in. Paris really did not belong.
Front or back door, she could not decide. In the end when the front door opened and two men dressed in biker gear fell out, she took the opportunity to slip in. People looked at her, and she felt even more out of place. Deciding it was best not to show how scared she was, Paris made her way to the bar.
A young woman, with the same short, tight top her mom wore, and far too much make up, eyed her suspiciously, “Have any ID?
“No. That is I don’t want a drink. I’ve come to see whoever runs the place.”
More suspicious looks, and the bar had grown distinctly quieter behind her. They were all listening in on the conversation. The small hairs on her neck rose up, and made Paris shiver. Working here might be more difficult than she thought.
“He’s busy.” The reply was about as unhelpful as it could get.
“Oh. Well my mom was due to start at five but she's had to go away on umm...business.”
“You mean Shar? You her kid? Didn't know she had a kid.” The young woman proceeded to look her up and down, her face saying ‘no resemblance’ even if her voice did not.
Paris decided to carry on with what she had to say, and then get out of there as fast as possible. “Her shift was due to start at five. I wondered if you wanted me to work it instead.”
The woman nearly choked, bursting out laughing. “I don’t think jail bait like you would get on well here.”
“I’m not...well I’m old enough,” Paris protested, feeling the colour rise in her cheeks.
“There are some things you will never be old enough for,” she said, sneering at Paris.
Paris could find no answer for this. She was right, compared to most women her own age she was very naive. Watching her mom fool around with any man that gave her any attention had made Paris wary of relationships with the opposite sex. Her mom had been a terrible role model in this respect. Well any respect really.
The one thing her early life had taught her was to avoid men unless you wanted to end up being a single parent with no hope of a career. It had been her mom who had inspired her to go to college, but not for the reasons most moms inspired their daughters. The opposite in fact, Paris was determined to do everything in her power to make sure she did not end up like her mom. And her own kids did not end up like Paris.
“Could you let him know I’m here all the same?” Paris asked, although all she wanted to do was get out of there. She was no fool, this was one place she did not fit in, and Paris knew all about that side of things.