Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(53)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“Hello, Ashli. Welcome to the end of days party. What do you think?” Ashli looked up at two tall women. One wore a gold crown and short white dress, the other a giant—and she meant giant—beehive atop her head.

Ashli busted out laughing. “Oh! I get it. It’s a beehive hairdo. That costume is hysterica…” The beehive woman looked like she just might reach down and rip off Ashli’s eyebrows. “What? What did I say?”

The woman in white narrowed her eyes and poked an angry finger at Ashli’s chest. “That’s not a costume, you little twa…” She pulled back the offending finger and looked at the beehive lady. “Hey. Are you in the mood to write a poem? Or maybe braid each other’s hair?”

“Yeah. Actually, I am.” Beehive lady gave her little head a shake. Amazingly the hive stayed in place.

“Let’s go find Kinich and Votan,” said the woman in white. “They have long hair. Maybe they’ll want to join us.” She turned her attention back to Ashli. “As you for… we’ll let your little insult slide. But just this once.”

What was with these two? And why was everyone so into poetry, writing songs, and braiding hair?

A strong hand gripped Ashli’s arm. “Ashli,” said Máax in an amused tone. “I see you’ve met my sisters, Camaxtli, also known as Fate, and Colel, Mistress of Bees, who happens to have a hive living on her head.”

Ashli yanked her arm away. “That one poked me.”

Máax leaned in. “Just ignore them. They’re jealous because they pale in comparison to your beauty.”

Then Ashli noticed something truly strange. Shocking, really. She was talking to Máax. Yes, Máax, an actual person whom she could see, standing right in front of her. His skin and hair had been painted gold. He wore sunglasses and a white toga. Ashli could see every bulging, rippling muscle shimmer as he moved. He was magnificent. And huge. Somehow he’d seemed smaller that day in the tub, but standing next to him made her feel like a toy Yorkie next to a pit bull. Only he did not look like a dog, but a god. A real-life god. And delicious. Those bare, broad, square shoulders that tapered into a tight waist; those thick, strong arms. Sigh. He was a sight of perfection. Every last inch. Was that gold paint edible? Had he painted his mandy bar, too?

“You look, um, amazing,” she said.

He looked down at his body. “Thank you. The idea came from you, actually. I cannot stop thinking about your special caramel body treatment.”

Caramel. Yes. She couldn’t stop thinking about that, either.

You’re an idiot! Look at you, pining for him. And appreciating. And thinking dirty, dirty thoughts about that mouth of his and the way it had kissed her. Or the way she’d kissed him back. Or how when she was around him, she became completely wild for him. Or when she’d pleasured him, he’d groaned in a voice so primal and masculine that she’d almost tumbled over the edge. Or the way he moved against her body and—

“Ashli? Did you hear what I said?” Máax asked.

Oh, had he been talking while she’d just snorkeled to the bottom of the gutter?

“I advise you to steer clear of those two sisters of mine. Or any of my brethren for that matter.” He rubbed his forehead, causing a bit of paint to streak just above his brow. “Thank the gods you’re immortal now.”

Immortal. Immortal. Still doesn’t feel real when I say it. Immooortal. Immooortal. Nope.

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “By the way, that toga looks stunning on you. I may have to remove my costume so that others do not mistake my toga for a pup tent.”

His scent, so sweet and addictive, overwhelmed her senses.

“And your hair, I love it loose and wild like this.” He rubbed a lock between his fingers and then slid his hand across her cheek. “You are so lovely, Ashli. Every inch of you.”

Standing next to him, seeing him with her very own eyes, hearing him whisper those tempting words was too much. He was a seduction machine.

“Hey. Looking good, Máax.” The deep male voice came from behind Ashli.

Máax glanced over Ashli’s shoulder. “Andrus. Tommaso.” He dipped his head, grinning. “Amusing costumes, gentlemen.”

Ashli turned her head to see who stood behind her, but when her eyes registered the two large men wearing loincloths, their nearly bare bodies and hair caked in dried mud, she yelped. Ohmygod.

“Ashli.” Máax chuckled. “Andrus and Tommaso are dressed as Maaskab, an evil sect of Mayan priests.”

Ashli pieced together a half smile. No doubt the other half was a look of disgust. Both men wore necklaces made of plastic fingers and had fake blood smeared on their faces.

“See, Tommaso,” Andrus said. “I told you. The ladies weren’t going to be into this. Now I’m not going to get laid. It’s my first night off in six months. Do you know how hard it is to find qualified stand-ins when the gods throw a party?”

Tommaso rolled his eyes. “You’re such a f**king wuss, Andrus. Come on, I saw a couple Payals over by the hors d’oeuvre table eyeing our Scabby thongs.”

“I am not a wuss; I am a lethal assassin.” Andrus punched Tommaso in the shoulder.

“You’re a f**king nanny, Andrus. Now shut the hell up and let’s get hammered. By the way…” Tommaso tilted his head to one side and turned stone-cold serious. “Have I ever told you that I really love you, man? Not in a g*y way, not that there’s anything wrong with that. But like a brother. Fuck—why did I just say that?” Tommaso glanced at Máax and Ashli. “I gotta get a drink. Nice meeting you, Ashli.”

“Uhhh…” Andrus shrugged his brows and watched Tommaso scurry away before turning back to Ashli. “I guess I’ll go join him. See what’s wrong. Nice to meet you, Ashli…” His voice trailed off, and his eyes locked on Ashli.

Okay. Awkward. She glanced at Máax, then back at the man.

“Enjoy the party, Andrus,” Máax said, politely shooing him away.

Andrus shook his head, snapping out of his distraction. “Yeah. Thanks.” He disappeared into the crowd.

“That was interesting,” Máax mumbled.

Ashli turned her attention back to Máax, who began rattling away some story about Andrus being hopelessly in love with another man’s wife—that Niccolo guy?—and caretaker to his daughter. Honestly, Ashli wasn’t really listening. How could she?