Taming the Beast World with a Frying Pan-Chapter 176: What’s Wrong With Friends With Benefits?

It was the weirdest sensation of Ren’s life. And considering she had experienced all sorts of strange things since she arrived in this world, that was saying something.

One second, she was wrestling a giant pillow of warm, golden feathers. The next, the feathers melted away, replaced by the distinct, solid heat of smooth, muscular skin.

He had shifted. While she was on top of him.

’Oh my god,’ Ren thought, squeezing her eyes shut behind her hands. ’My retinas. My poor, abused retinas. I am going to need guide dogs. One for each eye.’

The light faded, leaving behind the dim, cozy gloom of the hollow. But the heat remained. In fact, it intensified.

The man beneath her was radiating warmth like a nuclear reactor wrapped in silk. It was a soothing contrast to the cool, damp air of the storm, but it was also... alarming.

Ren realized her position. She was straddling his hips. Her knees were pressed into the moss on either side of his waist. And she was naked. And he was naked.

Her face went from "tomato" to "supernova."

"Ack!" Ren squeaked.

She scrambled to get off, trying to launch herself backward.

But two large, hot hands clamped firmly onto her waist, rooting her exactly where she was.

"Let me go!" Ren stuttered, finally lowering her hands from her eyes. The white spots were fading, revealing the terrifyingly handsome face of the Golden Eagle beneath her. "You... you can’t just shift while I’m tackling you! That’s cheating!"

He didn’t let go. He stared up at her, his silver eyes dark and unreadable.

Then, Ren felt it.

Something hard. Something hot. Something very enthusiastic was nudging against her left butt cheek.

Ren froze.

’Is that... please tell me that’s a stick. A very warm, throbbing stick.’

[System: Status Update! Subject: Golden Eagle. Arousal Level: ’Ready for Takeoff’. Current status: Harder than a diamond in an ice storm. Suggestion: Ride the lightning, Host.]

’SHUT UP!’ Ren screamed internally, her face burning so hot she thought she might set the moss on fire.

[System: Oh, come on. Look at him. He’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous AND he’s gorgeous?! Add him to the harem. Collect the whole set!]

’No!’ Ren argued back, panicking. ’Two husbands are more than enough! Things are complicated as is! I cannot add a stoic bird to the mix! I will have three husbands trying to kill each other! I will never know peace again!’

[System: So you admit you’re into him? You want to jump his bones? Friends with benefits? Friends with... bird-nefits?]

’First of all, that was so cringe! And second, we are friends!’ Ren mentally shrieked. ’Just friends! Platonic friends!’

Before she could strangle the voice in her head, she was yanked back to reality.

Altair’s large hands slid down from her waist. They glided over her skin, settling on her upper thighs. His thumbs began to rub slow, soothing circles into her soft flesh.

"You have very soft skin," he murmured.

He looked down at her thighs, tracing the curve of her muscle, before lifting his gaze back to her face. His brow furrowed slightly.

"Why is your face so red?" he asked, genuine concern in his eyes. "Are you sick?"

Ren swallowed hard. Every stroke of his thumb on her inner thigh sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core.

’Oh no,’ Ren realized with horror. ’I am getting turned on. Bad body! Bad!’

She quickly grabbed his wrists, stopping his hands.

"I am not sick!" Ren managed to choke out. She took a deep breath, trying to channel the innocence that had long left her. "We... we cannot be in this position. This is inappropriate. We are naked. I am on top of you. And you possess a... a situation."

He furrowed his brows. "A situation?"

"Yes!" Ren hissed, shifting uncomfortably. "And I don’t even know your name! You’re just ’Bird Guy’ to me!"

"My name is Altair," he replied simply.

[System: Oh, Altair~ Yes, Altair! Right there, Altair!]

’I hate you,’ Ren thought venomously at the System. ’I hate you more than I hate Karens.’

"Altair," Ren repeated, trying to keep her voice steady. "Okay. Good name. Strong name. Now that we have established that... let me up."

Altair didn’t move his hands. He looked at her with those intense, silver eyes.

"Now that you know my name," Altair said calmly, "Can we mate?"

Ren felt the blood drain from her head and rush everywhere else. She felt dizzy.

"What?!" Ren squeaked.

"Mate," Altair clarified. "I want to mate with you."

Ren was sweating. She was actually sweating.

She kept her hands firmly over his much larger ones on her thighs, pressing down as if to physically hold back the tide of his hormones.

"No!" Ren squeaked. "You don’t understand!"

"We are friends!" Ren babbled, desperate to lay down some ground rules while sitting on a naked demigod. "Friends are... buddies! Pals! Comrades! We hang out. We eat pizza. We complain about the weather. We high-five!"

She tried to lift a hand to demonstrate a high-five but realized she needed both hands to keep his from wandering.

"Friends help each other move furniture! They lend each other money! They braid each other’s hair—well, maybe not us—but the point is, it is a non-sexual contract of mutual support!"

She took a deep breath, looking him dead in the eye.

"Friends do not sit on each other naked and bump uglies in a tree hollow!" she declared firmly. "Friends don’t mate!"

[System: They do on HBO.]

Ren ignored the peanut gallery.

Altair frowned. He seemed to be genuinely contemplating her words. He looked at her face, searching for the logic in her statement.

Ren watched him think. He really was beautiful. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass. His lips were...

Her gaze slid to his mouth. Just for a second. A tiny, treacherous lapse in self-control.

’He has nice lips,’ her brain whispered.

Ren’s eyes widened in horror at her own thoughts. She snapped her gaze back up to his eyes.

"Is it because of the others?" Altair asked quietly. "You cannot mate with me because of the Tiger and the Snake?"