Page 203 of Mayhem and Minnie

Ew.

“He’s a mummy, Marlowe. Dead. Why would you compare yourself with a dead man?”

“Tell me, Giles!”

He takes a deep breath.

“You,” he mutters under his breath.

“Me, right?” I nod pensively as I once more look at Lucien’s face. “He does have nice cheekbones, though. Are they nicer than mine?” I ask as I pat my cheekbones.

“No, Marlowe,” Giles says automatically.

“And his jaw. It’s very sharp, don’t you think?”

“Not sharper than yours,” he immediately adds.

I nod, satisfied.

“He might have been handsome, but I’m more so,” I muse to myself.

“He’s a mummy, Marlowe,” Giles interjects with a groan. “Have you finally lost it? What’s this obsession you have with a goddamn dead man?”

I ignore him. There’s something else I must check.

I pull up the jacket of his uniform, tearing a good chunk of it in the process. Buttons fly to the floor, accompanied by scraps of fabric.

Damn it.

His stomach is sunken in, the entire abdomen dried out.

I push against my disgust and pull on the hem of his pants.

“Marlowe! What the hell are you doing?” Giles asks me in an outraged voice.

“Making sure I’m bigger than him,” I mutter, focused on getting the pants off.

“Marlowe! Have you completely lost your mind?”

“Perhaps, Giles. Since he’s already here, I might as well check so I don’t have intrusive thoughts later on.”

“Sweet Lord,” Giles whispers, shaking his head. “You’ve gone mad.”

Oh, yes. I’ve gone mad. Mad with jealousy.

I manage to pull the pants down to his knees, though the material is too sensitive to remain intact. It tears in a myriad of pieces that fall to the ground. Underneath, he’s wearing a pair of drawers that are stuck to his skin. Still, there’s an outline there—a very big outline, even in his mummified state.

I raise my gaze to Giles.

“No. You’re not making me compare your dick size to a fucking mummy!”

“Don’t worry, Giles. I won’t ask you that. I’ll compare it myself.”

Before I can let the disgust overwhelm me—this is quite unsanitary, though I try not to think about it—I go to a drawer and remove a measuring tape from inside.

“Goodness gracious, you’ve gone mad! Absolutely mad!” Giles continues to mumble while I focus on getting the white material of his drawers out of the way.

I’m not sure what I expected to find, but I’m quite shocked to realize that his dick is quite intact. It’s flaccid, of course, but well mummified. Perhaps the layers of material have protected his flesh even better than the rest of his body.

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