Demons Like It Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)(39)

To be honest, she’d completely forgotten about the show. Then Daniel Blackburn, the host himself, had called. She tried to get out of it, but the stupid contract was ironclad. Like it had been written by the devil himself. No escape clause at all.

Not one of my most brilliantly thought-out plans, that’s for sure.

Then again, it wasn’t like she’d known that she’d end up a walking demon detector a few months after she sent in the application and contract.

Heck, it was American Chef, not Hell’s Kitchen. Daniel Blackburn seemed harmless enough. And he was kind of attractive in a nerdy sort of way.

Not as attractive as Matthias.

“But he knows how to cook!”

Her naughty self snickered. So does Matthias—where it matters.

For goodness sakes! Would this ever stop? Matthias Ambrose was a big, stubborn behemoth who only cared about his mission and becoming a Paladin. He’d made that clear enough—on several occasions.

Even if he kissed her. Heck, he was probably just trying to shut her up. Sadly enough, it worked, in the most delicious of ways.

“Damn it.” She fisted the sheets and pulled them up around her head. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried desperately to put herself to sleep.

Rolling around in her blankets, she pounded the pillows, wrapped her arms around them and pulled one close to her body. Too damned soft.

“Ugh!” she shouted through her pillow.

Not even counting sheep could help her now.

She threw off her sheets and chucked the pillow across the room. Was this the same torture Lucy had to endure? She remembered how much her friend valued her sleep. And now it seemed she was as sleepless as the demons that surrounded her.

“Caterer by day, demon hunter by night.” Maybe she was the world’s next superhero.

“Spiderman, eat my dust,” she mumbled. Yeah right.

She looked down at her somewhat flat derriere and wrinkled her nose. Even Spanx couldn’t help those pancakes.

She angled a glance to her chest. Those either.

With a shrug, she reached for the remote and turned on the TV. The image of a man sitting at a Bowflex pulling and tugging at the cables flashed before her eyes. Stupid late night infomercials. Why couldn’t it have been the ShamWow Guy and his incredible Slap Chop instead?

The bodybuilder continued his demonstration. Lean, corded muscles bunched and flexed with each move. Not a bad body, for sure. But something was missing.

It’ll take him a long time to even think about matching Matthias’s physique.

Serah threw her arms up in the air and blew out a long sigh of resignation. Even her TV had been infected by him.

Then again, he was the most beautifully sculpted man—and demon—she’d ever laid her eyes on. Too built even for Men’s Health, yet not too steroid-induced for a bodybuilder magazine. Some of those men—she shuddered at the thought—squeezed and flexed so hard they looked like constipated Incredible Hulk wannabes with no necks, grunts and groans included.

She didn’t like them when they smiled. And she certainly wouldn’t like them when they were angry.

Speaking of smiles, had Matthias ever smiled a day in his life? It was like his mouth was caught in this permanent glower that not even a plastic surgeon could fix.

For God’s sake, stop thinking about him! She slammed her finger down on the channel button. A diet smoothie here, an Ab-Roller there. Late-night television really sucked. Maybe she should just buy the items in hopes that they’d get enough sales and stop advertising.

Yeah, right. They’d probably just come up with some other crazy invention to sell instead.

Then she landed on Duke Nelson’s Magic Protein Powder. For real? And who the hell was Duke Nelson? Like protein powder really gave him that body. With a low groan, she shook her head.

The announcer continued his overdramatic spiel about the wonders of the Magic Protein Powder. Big, bulging biceps, hot women, a smaller dinghy. “And if you call in the next ten minutes, we’ll double your order—absolutely free!” And then in the next whispered breath, “Just pay separate shipping and processing.”

Serah rolled her eyes. She might have bought a lot of things in her life, but very few of them came from infomercials. Then again, she really dug that Combo Cooker XL. Great for those on the go, like herself. If only her clients knew how she cooked at home.

“Have your credit card ready when you call,” continued the announcer.

“My credit card is on lockdown. Sorry buddy.”

With that, she mashed the power button. The TV faded in response. No way did she need protein powder, even if it was only three low payments of $9.99.

Three too many if you asked her.

Darn, she hated it when she woke up this early. The clock flipped from four to five. “Jeez,” she yawned, rubbing her eyes. “Too early to be awake, but too late to fall back asleep.” Mornings like this were killer.

With a reluctant groan, she crawled out of the cocoon of her blankets. Quite literally a cocoon, too, the way they curled and twisted around her. But she was no butterfly, that’s for sure. Especially not this early in the morning.

But damn, those lips of his moved like butterflies, all over her body. If it wasn’t him enrapturing her, what the hell was in that man’s cologne? Something harmful if swallowed, probably.

Maybe a cold shower would help get Mr. Magic Lips out of her mind. And it would wake her up too. Lord knew she’d need all the coffee in the world to make it through the day.