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Dr. Jake Whitebear was excited about arriving in Germany to attend his first International Academy of Sex Research Conference. He was a rising star in the field and one of the youngest tenured professors at his university. But he wasn’t prepared for how his Native American roots would cause such a sensation among the Germans around him. Mostly unknown in the United States, the German author Karl May had taught Hitler, Einstein, Albert Schweitzer, Kafka, Fritz Lang, and an entire nation a fantasy of how amazing American Indians really were. Karl May had sold over 100 million books and inspired Germans to not only dress as American Indians, but to hold conferences and powwows on their romantic understanding of what it meant to be a “noble savage.” The reality was--Jake Whitebear didn’t speak his Native language and grew up off the reservation.
But in the eyes of the conference director, Herr Professor Doktor Kurt Engel, Jake Whitebear is the man of his dreams. Jake finds his suitor attractive, but doesn’t want to enter into a relationship where his partner may not see his true self, but a larger than life persona no more real than an actor in a black wig. Jake Whitebear is more than ready for romance—but he wants it rooted in reality. And he may have the wrong roots to make it work in this strange and beautiful country. In a small village celebrating its medieval history, a modern American Indian will try to teach his love-struck admirer the difference between the past, the present, and their potential future.
Jeez, Jake thought. It’s like feeding a cat. Then they never leave. I shouldn’t have given him the Indian stuff he’s been begging from me. Now he’ll never leave. Then Jake shut down his thoughts for a moment. "Maybe I don’t want him to leave. Maybe I just want to get laid. God knows I’ve missed getting laid.”
The rest of the evening became a blur. He was unsure if he was at his hotel room or that of Kurt’s. He had a lot of time to recover after Ben’s death. He was unsure about details, but he thought of Kurt as a gentle and loving partner.
“Are you awake?” Kurt asked. Jake shot up, suddenly aware this was no dream.
“Back at my Teepee,” the German laughed. Jake looked around, frighteningly aware of the fact he wasn’t at the hotel. Directly in front of him was a framed poster for West Side Story, and another for Winatou, the Apache Chief. The white actor posing had a wig on that looked exactly the way Jake's own hair did when he had grown it out.
“What time is it?” He automatically reached for his phone but realized he was naked.
“Around 4am. Just relax. Everything is fine. I am with you so everything is more than fine.”
“My God, “ Jake whispered, “did you roofie me?”
Kurt stiffened. “I surely did not. You happily accompanied me here after we left the restaurant. Granted you seemed a little, how you say, tipsy? But you were most willing and may I say—most functional. He smiled. “You were most satisfactory in your performance. I will always miss Mathias, but you have awakened me to the fact I am still alive and he is not. I am most grateful to you.”
Jake took a few shallow breathes. He remembered the dessert he had shared with Kurt. He had remembered Kurt insisting they have yet another grappa. Then he could only remember waking up next to Kurt a few minutes ago. Kurt was hairier than he had anticipated. Why did he know that?
(Adult Gay Romance)