Human Interaction (25 page)

I smiled to myself. "Oh, I disagree. Your tongue is far more nimble and intoxicating in skill," I teased back, enjoying his closeness and affections.

A sharp nip to my shoulder made me jump in surprise but his tongue laved the site to lessen the sting. "You can… practice… all you would like. On me, that is," he declared, shifting so that his body melded into mine.

Yawning big, I pretended indifference. "I wouldn't want the big bad kitty to be too tired to perform… later."

He snorted, lightly slapping my rear. "Is that a challenge?" His voice rumbled low.

"Well…" His lips descended on mine with a determined passion, silencing further speech on my part.

He pulled back for a moment, allowing us both to catch our collective breaths. "You know…"

"Hmmmm?" I answered in between pants.

A grin popped onto his face. "I believe you're kinky as hell."

"What?" I gasped, half rolling to be able to look him squarely in the eye as the bulk of his body still rested behind me. "What in your insane mind led you to say that?"

His gaze held mine; those deep blue depths pulled me in, refusing to release. "'Cause by the time I'm done with you, you will be."

Oh, boy.

Those sensual words set fire to my libido, whipping my dormant desire into high gear. His hands roamed over my body with avid familiarity, skillfully re-discovering every hot spot before searching for the next. My breath hitched, heart sped, and parts below sat up and took notice. Within two minutes, my body and mind reached the same decision.

"Meat?"

"Mmm." He answered, engrossed in flicking his tongue over my aching nipple.

"I visited the cemetery. Said my piece. Wills was my past. I've let go and want to move on. You're my future."

He stared at me deeply, his gaze never leaving my face for a long moment. When he said nothing, I admitted my needs. "I want to. Please."

His head jerked up to meet my gaze. "You sure?"

I nodded. "I'm sure. Very sure." Once the decision had been made, it felt right. My anxiety dissipated like a fizzing Alka-Seltzer in a glass of water.

Meat searched my face for a long second before giving me his patented wicked grin. "We'll take this slow and easy and savor each moment."

Yeah, well, a few minutes later, I found slow and easy to be way too snail paced. "Hurry up," I pleaded.

He nipped the lobe of my ear in chastisement. "Patience."

He preached the values of patience while rolling on a dark-colored condom. I tried to refrain from grabbing him by the ears and shaking him so he would listen to my immediate wants and needs. When he settled over me once more, his lips went to work, kissing, licking, laving. I caressed each and every hill and valley, not able to get enough of him.

"More. I need more."

"Soon."

"I can't wait any longer."

My nipple popped out of his mouth. "Waiting makes it all better." He grinned wickedly.

"Urgh." Wrapping my arms and legs around his larger frame, I rocked, finally managing to roll us over. While he adjusted, I settled on board, straddling his hips, and slowly lowering.

His smile told me some corny sexual concoction in his brain worked as planned.

"Tygerius." A booming male voice broke over the room, cutting through our pants and gasps.

From my position on top, I twisted my head around to find the source. Sure enough, two people stood at the end of our bed, watching. I yelped and dove under the covers. Once there, I pulled the comforter to cover each and every inch of my body. I decided Meat didn't need blankets. After all, these people seemed to know him. What's a little nudity between friends and family?

"Damn." A loud groan followed.

"Sorry," I mumbled from my hiding place. I didn't know if the response related to being caught in a compromising position by the couple or from my less than graceful dismount.

"Mom. Dad," he answered in a somewhat droll voice.

His parents? Well, I guess that takes care of the nudity question. They've seen it already, probably more than they care to think about.

A sudden realization struck. His parents just saw my naked rear! Not to mention the great likelihood they spied other naked bits as well. My face flamed in sheer mortification. I burrowed deeper and considered how rude teleportation would be seen in an awkward situation as this.

"Son, you didn't call us. We left messages for you and you didn't return them," his mother scolded.

"I can see why now," his father replied with a tiny hint of amusement.

The bed dipped as Meat rolled then stood.

"Why in the hell are you wearing a condom?" his father asked. "You know we can't get or carry diseases and are sterile unless…"

Good grief. I remained motionless under the cover, deciding I might as well get comfortable in my new linen-covered home. It would take at least a good year before I could look at these people in the back, let alone their faces.

"It's complicated," Meat answered flatly.

Meat's tone remained steady and strong, without inflection of any embarrassment he might feel for being caught with his pants down. Literally.

Getting hot with all the blankets, I whispered loudly, "Meat, I need clothes. Please."

A moment later they appeared. Oh, boy did I have clothes. More than I could sort out and move in. Kicking and tugging, I managed to free myself from the cavernous bed linens. One glance at my new ensemble forced a pitiful groan from my lips. Leave it to the goofball to dress me as Laura Ingles Wilder. Standing up, I shook the long dress out, watching the black material fall to brush the floor. Black dress? Did Laura wear black dresses?

My own image in the mirror across the room caught my attention. Eek! I would have much preferred Laura to what I stood in.

"A nun?" I glared at Meat before automatically glancing up to make sure a lightning bolt didn't immediately strike me down. "Dang it." I stomped my foot for emphasis.

Meat tsked, grinned evilly at me. "Careful what you say, baby."

"Yeah, well…" I pulled at the head covering, feeling like Whoopi Goldberg dressed up in such a contraption. I felt something else, too.

"You forgot underwear." I frowned at Meat, trying for a haughty tone.

His smile widened. "No, I didn't." Those deep blue eyes roamed over me from top to bottom. "The thought of you without panties in that outfit turns me on."

If possible, my face burned all the more. "Pervert!"

A loud clearing of a throat interrupted.

"Tygerius, maybe you can explain… in the kitchen." His mother shot us both withering looks, demanding compliance. She stood tall, her red hair cropped short in a fashionable bob. The forest green pant suit accentuated her slender figure while hinting at curves in the process. Black heels completed her outfit. As she strode off, we dutifully followed.

"They saw my naked rear!" I hissed at Meat's back.

He reached back for my hand, dragging me along behind him. "Yeah. I could tell Dad enjoyed the view immensely."

"If you would have hurried up like I kept telling you, we wouldn't be in this mess." I quickly pointed out to his back.

"Oh, but watching you writhe and moan and beg was more than worth it," he teased, not the least bit upset about the situation.

I suffered embarrassment beyond measure and he found the whole situation hilarious. Just great. Oh, he is soooo getting it. I growled, gave a tug, and managed a very un-nun-like action by stomping the toes of the big baboon.

He quickly sidestepped, slapping my bottom in retaliation. "Try that again and I'm going to spank that pretty little bare ass."

I gasped at his threat. "You wouldn't."

One tug set my feet into slow motion. "Better believe it, baby." He turned back with a grin. "I'll enjoy every second of it, too." His eyebrows wiggled.

"Kinky horny toad."

"Tygerius, now." His mother's order came from the kitchen, spurring us into motion.

We entered the interrogation chamber, otherwise known as the kitchen. His parents sat at one end of the dining table. Meat and I plopped down to occupy the remaining ones. I flashed back to the principal's office in elementary school, already squirming in my seat. The mood of the room sure possessed the same feel as when I'd sat before a looming man and explained why I pulled Mary Penny's ponytail.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" his mother asked, giving me a hard look.

I opted for the high road, suddenly feeling very Julie Andrews-like in my present outfit. "Hi. I'm Shy."

The eyebrows on both his parents' faces elevated.

"Interesting name." His father muttered, resting his clasped hands on the table.

"No, she isn't anywhere near the meaning of her name. In fact…"

I aimed for Meat's shin under the table, only missed wide enough to slam my toe into one of the table legs. If the barbarian can give me a nun's habit to wear, he could at least include some sturdy shoes to go with it. My bare foot stung from the attempt.

"I gathered that already." His father quickly added, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly. Deep tawny hair hung to tease his collar. He wore faded jeans with a tucked in maroon polo. I could easily see where Meat got his size and strength. The barrel chest and heavily muscled torso reminded me of Meat's toned and tanned upper body. Although large and stout, he appeared less intense than his smaller framed and leaner wife, hinting that his sense of humor possibly traveled the same road as Meat's.

"So, is she your mate?" The woman's head tilted in question.

Meat sighed. "I don't know."

"After what we witnessed, I'm sure you would already know if you were." With her haughty demeanor and critical cynicism, she immediately rubbed me the wrong way.

My stomach dropped at her words. Tears threatened as I fought for control. I wouldn't let her sharp statement turn me into a babbling idiot in front of his parents, giving her the satisfaction of whittling me down to a puddle of tears and remorse.

His father hastily changed the subject. "How do you know one another? And why does she call you Meat?"

This will be a good story. Not. I slunk lower in my chair, wincing as the coarse material rubbed over sensitive skin.

Meat fidgeted is his seat, obviously considering his words carefully. "Well, Meat is my… nickname. And, she's the one who blew up my motorcycle."

My head hit the table as I prayed for a black hole to open up in the floor and whisk me away to a Jacuzzi just like they show in the soap commercials. Maybe, considering my outfit, my prayers would make the express lane. When no hole emerged and I peeked up to find the same two frowning parents, I decided it didn't work that way. Maybe the clothes don't make the person after all. Drat.

The silent treatment followed. I now knew where Meat learned the highly effective form of torture. I wiggled and picked at the head gear of the habit. I broke in less than fifteen seconds.

"Okay. Okay. I'll talk."

Everyone stared at me with bewilderment written on their faces. I ignored them and surged ahead. "We met at Meat's… errrrr… Tyger's…" I take it they don't know about the dance gig. Okay. Think creative. "At his place of employment." There we go. "You see I had this research paper for my psychology class to do on human interaction…"

"So you're a college student?" his father inquired.

"Part time." I continued with my story, "After the first night, I saw Meat, recognized him from a small… incident at another establishment before. Well, after observing the crowd, I decided to interview him for my paper. I just knew he had this secret, you see. He had monk written all over him."

They both blinked at me while Meat made a choking sound.

Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to stop rambling. The words spurted forth even while I tried to rein them in.

"You know. Those poor monks from… I don't know where… but they have their penises chained to a bus and forced to pull the heavy bus around. I'm not sure why they do that, but they just do. Maybe it was a punishment for getting sexually aroused by thinking about naughty nuns?" His father coughed loudly. "Anyway, I figured he was a runaway monk seeking asylum here and this was the first job he could get. Besides, I wondered if all those bus-pulling chores made any difference… errrr… physically on him. Not every day you run across a refugee monk person. He accused me of having a monk fetish. Can you believe that?" I waved my hand again, this time directing attention to my outfit. "If anything I would say he has a nun fetish. Is there such a thing? Do men fantasize about what nuns wear under these robes?"

His father spewed and choked. Meat gave him a good wallop on the back, which seemed to clear his breathing once more. I decided to move on with our history.

"Next thing I know, we were kinda loosely dating. Well, that more or less came about after we were kidnapped and sold into slavery…"

The parents' eyes widened at that declaration.

"No worries. We rescued the women. Ducky… well, his name is really some ancient language no one can pronounce so I call him Dick of a Duck. It's as close as I can come to saying it. He didn't like that and after he ate the bad guy going to buy me, I decided to be civil and call him Ducian. But, once a duck, always a duck, you know."

"Uhhhh," his mother muttered.

I spoke over her. "I managed to poof us home after that event. Well, after a couple of mishap stops along the way. Ducky still tells me he has nightmares about visiting the old men's bathroom with those perverts with the wrinkled man parts. Who knew old men with wrinkled peanut penises would be so happy to see us and play show and tell with their private parts?"

Meat lowered his chin to his chest beside me, the fingers of one hand pinching the bridge of his nose. I could have sworn he snorted, that or a highly masked chuckle managed to escape.

"Anyway, so we sorta started dating. Then there was that unfortunate incident with his motorcycle, and I thought he blamed me. You see, I had this package to deliver and ran into Meat. It was before Christmas and I just knew this special box meant the end of the world literally if it was stolen or destroyed, like some sort of magic globe that held the fate of the world in my hands. I sat it by his bike and forgot it until we were in the cookie store. We were just going to eat normal cookies that day, not the penis cookies, I swear. Jessica makes and sells private parts cookies in her store, you see, but I borrow her molds now and again for home use. Anyway, next thing I knew his bike was in thousands of tiny motorcycle confetti bits. Kaboom."