Page 3 of How to Rescue Your Surprise Baby

He snorted. Then he began laughing hysterically, because ofcoursethe gods had to play him like this. “I don’t suppose it has a king-sized bed.”

Mav rolled his eyes. “Twin beds.”

“You can’t be serious. With a room number like that? Room 69 should’ve been the honeymoon suite.”

“No. That isn’t even a romantic position.” Mav grimaced.

“What number should the honeymoon suite be, then?”

“Room 11.”

Telos stared, trying to figure out why. “You can’t possibly mean... missionary. Who the hell does missionary on their honeymoon?”

“I don’t know, people who want to stare into each other’s eyes?” Mav said, extremely sarcastically. “Instead of getting a face full of cock?”

Telos winced. “That sounds like two incredibly boring people getting married.”

“You can’t possibly think romance means mounting someone doggy-style and going at it like animals.”

“If you love someone, you fuck them the right way,” Telos retorted. “Guess that escapes you.”

“I don’t even know why I’m having this discussion with you.”

Telos grabbed his bags. “Me neither. The last thing anyone wants, would be to marry you.”

It was a lie, of course. And Telos had found a way to make his heart not skip, so Mav couldn’t tell he was lying.

“Yeah, like your opinion matters so much,” Mav muttered.

Telos looked away and focused on keeping his pulse even.

In the room, they set their bags on the dresser. Mav nodded at the microwave on top of the mini fridge. “You gonna heat up your dinner first?”

The memory of Major Licking’s Four Cheese Ravioli shot into Telos’ mind. This was what he’d been waiting for: Mav’s reactionto the worst TV dinner that ever existed. “So you can rub your dinner in my face? I think not.”

Mav reached into his bag to grab his frozen meal, but Telos was faster. He ripped open his box of beef pot pie and leaped over to the microwave, slamming it in. Mav reached him a split second later, teeth bared.

“Too slow, so sad.” Telos clucked his tongue and punched in the time for the microwave.

It spoke volumes about Mav’s character, that he didn’t open the microwave to throw out Telos’ pot pie. Instead, he stepped back, eyes narrowed. “I bet no one calls you back for yourfastperformance.”

Telos ignored the flush creeping up his neck. “I’d prove my abilities to you, but you’re so much of a prude, it would burn your eyeballs.”

“Go ahead and think that.” Mav turned away, stripping off his shirt.

Telos froze. He’d seen Mav shirtless several times over the centuries, but not like this. Not without their friends, and not in a room all by themselves.

Light played across Mav’s shoulders, highlighting the sheer beauty of his body. His muscles rippled, his biceps flexed. A black tattoo of a serpentine dragon stretched along his spine, its white eyes prominent, as though watching Telos.

Mav reached for his belt buckle.Fuck.

Apparently Telos hadn’t controlled his reaction well enough, because Mav glanced over his shoulder. “Something wrong?”

“Five out of ten for the striptease, do not recommend.”

Mav scoffed and undid his belt, his fly rasping. Then the pants slid down his underwear-clad ass, and he bent over to get it off his ankles.

Holy fuck.

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