Accidentally...Over?(40)

There was yet another knock at the door. She opened it. "Listen, I really don't need … " There was no one.

"Máax?"

She waited for a reply. If he was there, he wasn't saying anything.  Ashli then noticed a card and rectangular box wrapped in shimmery red  paper on the floor. She picked it up and closed the door, locking it  behind her.

The card was an invitation for a party tomorrow evening. A costume party? For the end of the world?


Your driver will pick you up at eight o'clock. I hope you like the dress.

Yours Forever,

Máax


Ashli opened the box. "Funny, Máax. Real funny."





Eighteen





Ashli's limo pulled up behind a long line of other flashy vehicles to  the red carpet, where svelte men in crisp tuxedos lined the walkways and  giant floodlights speared the desert night sky. It felt like a lavish  Hollywood movie premiere until she noticed the crowd pouring inside.  Unicorns, clowns, genies, kings, and queens, the costumes were elaborate  and outrageous.

Great. I'm underdressed.

Ashli thanked her driver as an usher opened the door, and she made her  way inside the grandiose ballroom. The dimly lit interior pulsed with  loud music and flashing lights. Giant twenty-foot-high golden statues of  several gods illuminated every corner. The ceiling was a radiant  spectacle of thousands of sparkling white lights arranged into  constellations and …

Googly-eyed unicorns?

There had to be at least a thousand people toasting, dancing, and laughing.

Flabbergasted, Ashli stepped aside and gawked at the river of people  flowing by. Or fountain of people? Yes, a man dressed as a fountain,  complete with running water spouting from the top of his head and a  giant round basin to catch the flow, floated by right next to another  woman riding a very tall …  well, she didn't know really, because there  wasn't actually anything there.

"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 fucking 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 fucking 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 gay 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?

She sighed at the deeply chiseled muscles, the ripples of his partially  exposed abs, the thick, strong thighs jutting out from below the hem of  his almost too short toga, a toga that barely covered him and reminded  her of what was underneath. Mandy bar! It was a part of him she  remembered touching and tasting and enjoying. She'd never felt so free  and uninhibited with a man. She'd never felt so needy for one, either.