Entangled Interaction (4 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne Meadows

Tags: #paranormal crime comedy erotic romance

BOOK: Entangled Interaction
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Digging sounds caught my attention, as well as my name being called from what sounded like a mile away. Both became louder until gloved hands connected with my belly, wrapped around, and pulled me roughly back to the surface.

I coughed and sputtered.

"Shyanne? Are you okay?" He frantically pushed snow from my face, while giving me a stern shake. "Say something."

I nodded and focused on catching my breath. Taking a quick inventory, I discovered two things. The gusting frigid wind now sent hard shivers coursing through my body, whereas my water-resistant clothing had repelled the stout breeze earlier. Combine the coldness with the terror of being nearly buried alive and I shook like a leaf on a blustery fall day.

The second item, I complained about between chattering teeth. "I think my privates just got rope burned."

His mouth firmed as he glanced around. Picking me up, he untangled the still connected rope and gave me a tug. "Let's get moving."

"Where are we going?" I folded my arms over my chest and tried to stop the shivers.

"Someplace to get you warm and dry." His tone spoke of frustration and sheer annoyance.

"I'm sorry… I…"

"Just keep walking. If I have to carry your ass, you'll be in serious trouble."

Chapter 4

 

Luckily for me, we found shelter fairly quickly. Found might not be the right word. Cannibal appeared to know where he was every step of the way. A house, sturdy wood structure with lights on inside, smoke rising from the chimney, stood before us, looking like heaven on the snow-packed tundra.

Cannibal knocked, then spoke quietly to the man who answered the door. A moment later, the older man bid us enter.

I stepped into a decent-sized open area and blinked. First, because my eyes had to adjust to the sudden light after spending hours wandering around in the dark, and secondly, because in the room stood a handful of men, all wearing long, thick robes.

"Where are we?" I whispered as I tugged at Cannibal's coat.

He spared me a quick glance. "Monastery."

"That would explain the monk-looking men."

We changed clothes, leaving our outerwear drying in front of the fire. By the time, we cleaned up, the head monk declared breakfast ready.

The entire place spoke of simple needs mixed with eloquence and cleanliness. Their furniture appeared old and rustic, yet sturdy and lasting. No modern amenities could be seen, at least not in the areas I ambled through. The décor, though simple, gave one the feeling of peace and tranquility.

A huge tureen of soup sat in the middle of a long table. Each monk sat in a seat and passed full bowls down the line until everyone had some. We were given the same luxury as we took seats at the far end of the dinner table.

The monks prayed, then began to slowly eat. No one spoke. No one gestured. They simply ate in silence.

"Ummm. Do you guys get many visitors?" Every gaze I met, the monk quickly tore away, focusing on his soup like the bowl would disappear from his grasp if he dared look away too long.

When they didn't answer, I tapped my fingers on the wooden table and tried once more. "So how do you get to be monks stationed out here in… wherever we're at? Did you sign up for this location? Were you given marching orders from your superior monk person? Or are you all local and this is the only monastery in a five hundred mile radius?"

Staring at the head of the table, I waited for the main guy to explain, more than happy to talk about his profession, their little home in the woods, maybe even what called them to their choice of careers. He remained mute as ever.

Releasing a sigh, I glanced up at Cannibal who shrugged before taking a long drink of his water.

Frustrated with the continued lack of social conversation, I threw out one more question sure to get their attention and a response.

"Does your leadership expect you to chain your penises to a bus and pull it around? I saw on television where some religious groups require such things for their members. Although, I can see where a bus might not be reasonable here. Perhaps more like a sled or even a snow mobile? Would you have to wear some sort of special covering in order to keep your privates from getting frostbite? Metal chains can be cold, I'm sure."

Cannibal snickered, but remained mute, along with the rest of the small congregation. Talk about a tough crowd. No one even looked in my direction as if they were all deaf to my voice. At least the sound of my own voice somewhat filled in the uncomfortable hush.

I looked at their clothing and remembered a time not too long ago, when Meat wore the very same outfit.

I tried. I really did. But silence and I never mixed well. Things just popped out at times. Besides, I could confess my sins to the room full of monks and hopefully be forgiven and obtain some good advice on my failed relationship. Weren't religious men supposed to offer counseling for people in need?

"Meat thinks I have a monk fetish." I began to babble. All eyes turned my direction. "But I really don't. At least, I don't think I do. I just want to know what they… errrr… you guys wear under those robes, you see. On the other hand, he has this big time nun fetish. The one time we were having sex and his parents walked in, he dressed me in a nun's habit. Boy, did he perform like the Energizer Bunny that night."

Eyebrows raised, and more than one cough carried across the room. One poor guy choked on his soup and had to be slapped on the back to clear the blockage. Cannibal remained mute, although his gaze landed on me followed by a quick shake of the head.

I blurted out the pressing question simmering on my lips. "Do you think it's a sin to wear a nun's habit, then quickly yank it off to do some bed boogying?" I took another bite and continued when the room remained mute. "I mean I would hate to be struck down by lightning for such a thing."

More coughs followed, but no one voiced an opinion, suggestion, or comment. Talk about a tough crowd.

"I can't help it if Meat has… errrr… had… well, I guess he still has the nun fetish. He probably just has it with someone else these days." I sighed at the thought.

Cannibal nudged my ankle with his foot beneath the table. I shot him a glare and continued verbalizing my thoughts and concerns to the crowd of monks.

By the end of the meal, I had spilled everything about Meat and my relationship, even to the final argument. I attempted to elicit their opinion on where the blame resided, but the lot of them remained silent. Their eyes spoke loudly, though. Too bad I couldn't read Himalayan eye language. They might have had some promising suggestions on how to deal with my failed social life.

The meal finished, and a bald-headed man escorted us to a tiny room to sleep. A single pallet lay on the floor. Despite a small log fire just a few feet from the makeshift bed, the room still carried a definite chill.

Cannibal thanked the man, then began pulling his clothing off.

I bent over, pretended to pick up some lint from the spotless wooden floor, and tried my best to peer under those long robes the monk sported. Unfortunately, they didn't rustle near enough nor cut high enough to see anything higher than his knees.
Dang heavy weight wool.

I turned to find my boss minus his coat and pulling at the ties on his pants.

"What are you doing?" I stared at him in stunned shock. It was bad enough I had to share this one-size-fits-only-one blanket, but to do so with him naked was too much.

He turned, shooting me a knowing grin. "You've been feeling up my ass all day long, what's wrong with actually seeing it now?"

My face burned. Ignoring the baboon, I pulled off my shoes and jacket, flopped onto the blanket and pulled the spare up to my chin.

He chuckled as he followed suit, lying against my back, so he spooned up against me.

"I should be asking why you were trying to get a peek under the monk's robes."

Rolling my eyes, I grudgingly answered. "I just wanted to see if he wore underwear or not. And, if so, boxers or briefs."

I felt him shaking his head and sighing. "Only you." Strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me snug.

I should have protested, complained, or just grumbled. I was too tired and his body heat felt way too good to utter a single complaint. Fatigue and exhaustion pushed me further into contentment.

"I can't feel my butt." I pouted, tilting my chin so my nose could sneak under the cover as well.

"Don't worry. I can." He gave the area a squeeze. "Feels great to me."

"Hey!" I protested, half turning to look up into his face. "No touchy-feely the frozen gopher. I already have a rope-burned hee-hoo because of you."

The Neanderthal actually laughed. "You don't have a hee-hoo."

"Huh?"

"Unless you grew a cock in the past hour, I think you still have a hoo-hah." He leaned in whispering against my earlobe, "I can kiss it and make it all better."

"No… no thanks," I sputtered. My face warmed as I flopped solidly back over to my side. "Lately, no one plays with Shy parts except me."

He chuckled.

It took a moment for my words to sink in. A gasp escaped then I shut my mouth, deciding silence really was the best policy.

 

* * * *

 

Just minutes after dawn, the head monk ushered us through the front door and back on the trail. Cannibal exchanged a few words with him, then slipped some money into his hand.

I watched him trek over to me before asking, "What did he say?"

The monks had been notoriously silent the majority of our stay. I decided for any of them to say more than one sentence must mean a topic of great importance.

"He's glad to see you leave," Cannibal answered, reaching over to adjust the strap on my backpack.

Blinking, I took offense. "What? Why?"

He gave one final tug, then took the lead. I hurried to keep up, the rope once again tying us together.

"They believe Buddha sent you as a temptation."

"Temptation?"

He nodded, not breaking stride. "A test of their vow of celibacy." His voice never wavered, as if he were simply speaking about the weather.

I snorted. A handful of monks living together without the presence of women for years, would see any woman as a test of that particular vow.

"He also wished me luck."

My head tilted in question as I grabbed onto the back of his pants for balance.
Dang slippery rocks
. "In finding the Yeti?"

"No. In my vow not to strangle you."

"Oh."

What seemed like hours later, we finally paused in a small clearing. My legs trembled like jelly and my rear burned like no other aerobic workout I could recall. My pounding heartbeat and rapid breathing took several minutes to return to close to normal. My arms fared no better as they trembled from overuse every time I raised them parallel to the ground.

"How do we find this Yeti without participating in another Ironman event?"

Cannibal scoured the area, ranging across the steep land, crisscrossing from side to side.

Tracking? This was his great idea?
My shoulders slumped in defeat at what that meant. More walking and climbing and the ever present possibility of falling off a dang cliff.

"Why don't you just call him?"

His eyebrows shot up.

Not bothering to wait to hear his next suggestion, I forced my feet to move once again, treading slowly and carefully over snow-covered ground. "Here, abom… abom… Here, Yeti." I turned and hollered the other direction. "Here, Yeti." Giving a whistle, I tried once more. "Here, Yet… ACK!"

I stumbled back, nearly falling on my hiney when a very large white furry thing appeared directly in front of me.

Gaining my balance, I raced to Cannibal, exhausted legs forgotten with the burst of adrenaline. Skidding to a sliding stop, I plunged behind the Enforcer, peeking around his side at the visitor.

Cannibal spared me a quick glance while shaking his head. I couldn't see his eyes through the dark glasses he wore against the bright sun bouncing off the snow, but I'm sure they sparked with amusement.

"'Bout time you showed up, Bear."

"Bear? I thought you said his name was Yeti?" I whispered from my safe location.

He ignored me.

The wooly beast in front of us morphed into a man, complete with heavy clothing to deter the elements. He stood tall, Cannibal's height or a smidgen taller. Although it was hard to tell with all the covering, I would have wagered on a healthy leanness to his body, but more than enough muscles to get the job done. His pale blond hair hung shoulder length and blew wildly in the stout wind. Pale blue eyes sparked with life as he stared in our direction.

"And end the most entertainment I've had in a while? No way. Watching her grab your ass halfway up the mountain was primo, buddy."

Cannibal shot him the one-fingered salute. "Go lick yourself."

Bear grunted in response. "Got me confused again with those canines and felines, I see. Must be a sign of senility." His eyes shifted to stare at me, raking me over from where I stood partially behind the hunter. "Who's she?" The Yeti tilted his head toward me.

"Pack animal." Cannibal's gaze flicked back to me.

Oh goody. I've been promoted.
Lifting my chin, I quickly added with a smile, "Better than food supply."

Cannibal shared a look with the Yeti. "You can still eat the pack animal when you run out of food."

Talk about having your bubble burst
. I snorted in response to that statement. "Nice to know I have many uses."

"What in the hell did you do to get stuck with her?" the fuzzy bear asked. "Must have been something bad."

Cannibal just stared. "You have no idea."

A short walk later, we entered the clearing where the shape shifter's home existed. Squinting against the bright snow, I made out what looked to be a small log cabin in the distance.

"How big is your house again?" My nerves crackled.

"One room cabin. Why do you ask?" Bear answered without breaking stride.

Concerned thoughts raced through my head. First of all, I would be alone with two oversized men, all living in a single room, opening a whole can of worms that should probably stay tightly closed. On the plus side, I always heard bears have thick pelts and could be comfortable and toasty warm if you lay against one. However, from what I could tell of his attitude in the first few minutes, he leaned toward grumbling nearly as much as Cannibal, meaning he might make a decent cuddle buddy if you could work around the lumps, bumps, and sharp quips. On the downside, I really, really hoped he had a bathroom with a stout door. No way would I trust either one of them to hold a blanket up for privacy while I bathed or worse, had more expulsions from those energy bars.

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