“He looks dead.” I leaned over the unconscious god. The guy was good-looking. He had blond wavy hair, chiseled features, and a muscled body, obvious even in pink-striped Armani.
Eros was hawt.
“What do you think, Mom? Is he a boxers or briefs kind of guy?”
My mother stared at me. “Are you serious?”
“Yes,” I deadpanned. “I’m always serious about a dude’s un…
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