Demons Like It Hot (Demons Unleashed #2)(40)

And how was she going to keep him out of the kitchen when Daniel arrived? Lock him out? Not likely, after the show of strength he gave her last night.

She shrugged. She just wouldn’t invite him in. Problem solved. With a confident smile, she leapt from the bed and pushed open the dangling door.

Today would be a good day after all. She’d make sure of it.





Chapter 17


She held her breath, not quite sure what she would find. Farquhar was still snug in the guest bedroom. The door was still closed. Imps weren’t as powerful as demons, and they needed naps every so often. Being a cat didn’t help matters much for him either.

Eat, sleep, and poop, she remembered a friend from culinary school say once. That’s all my cat is good for.

Wait until she met Farquhar. He smoked cigars and swilled down scotch like it was going out of style. The eating—well, boy, could he eat.

“He’d probably eat me out of house and home if he could,” she whispered as she tiptoed down the hall.

No way in hell was she going to wake the sleeping beast. Then again, he was a demon. Demons didn’t need sleep. Some, like Lucy and Rafe, though, still caught a few Z’s every so often. Then again, Lucy was only half demon. Sleep still came naturally for her. Rafe just liked tagging along.

Maybe Matthias was one of those demons who yearned to be human and still partook in human activities. After all, she’d seen him sneak a few pieces of popcorn when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Then again, he was a bodyguard. What kind of bodyguard sleeps on the job? Especially one who took the commando role so seriously.

Not many.

Oh well, she had to deal with him anyway. Might as well be now.

She shimmied into the living room and rounded the corner to the dining room. The sooner she got her coffee made, the better.

The sooner she could escape to her shower—alone.

Party pooper.

Yep, that she was.

A low gravelly moan came from the couch.

“Oh no,” she mumbled.

Oh yes!

She covered her eyes, but peeked through open fingers.

A hand draped over the couch and the sheet fell down across his chest. Eyes still closed, he swallowed and moistened his lips. He twisted and turned on the couch, the blanket falling away, exposing black silk.

Huh?

Red polka dots.

Her cheeks warmed at the sight. Muscles bunched and bulged against the delicate fabric. Her gaze moved upward. Something else pressed against the fabric, the boxers barely concealing what lay beneath.

Pulling her hands from her eyes, she licked her lips. Her mouth watered and her pulse bobbed. She stood still, transfixed by the view in front of her. She yearned to go over and stroke those magnificent muscles through the silky fabric. Her fingers tingled.

Get control of yourself.

She scanned the room. The clothing they’d bought earlier lay neatly over the easy chair. Shoe boxes and packages stacked in order on the floor. Oh great. A neat-freak. He and Kalli would get along swimmingly.

How’d he sneak those into the clothes when she wasn’t looking? Then again, he was a demon. If there was one thing she knew, each demon had one or more tricks up his sleeve. Maybe shoplifting was his. Regardless, she’d make certain he only wore tighty-whities from now on. She shivered, imagining him sprawled across her sofa in nothing but a pair of briefs. Even David Beckham in his skimpy Armanis couldn’t compare. Scratch that. He was sleeping fully clothed from now on.

“I’m hopeless,” she whispered. Why, oh, why couldn’t the Fore-Demons send Kevin Costner instead? Nah, Whitney Houston would get jealous. Then again, Kevin Costner didn’t have much of a body. And he was old enough to be her father.

Never mind. He would have worked perfectly. No fantasies to interfere with her sanity.

She padded her way into the dining room and jotted into the kitchen. With a long yawn, she reached up and pulled open the cupboard. She needed something strong if she expected to function the entire day.

Smiling, she grabbed the canister labeled Extreme Dark Roast. Yes, it’s that kind of morning.

She scooped several spoonfuls of coffee beans into the grinder, silently wishing for the miracle to keep Matthias and his scantily clad body from hearing the clamor.

With a quick shrug, she rubbed the locket dangling from her neck. If it worked earlier, maybe it would work again. She closed her eyes.

May the kitchen noises not disturb the demons and imps in this house.

Maybe she should add an amen and a hallelujah for good measure. The powers that be might like that touch.

She pushed the lid down on the grinder and pressed the button. The grinder roared to life. And no one came to bug her.

“Hallelujah!” she exclaimed with a triumphant fist in the air. She pushed the button again and the grinder came to a halt. She brought her nose to the freshly ground goodness and breathed in.

“Mmm.”

She poured water into the coffee maker and flipped the switch. With slow, methodical drops, the coffeemaker bubbled and sizzled to life. Too bad good coffee couldn’t just come in an instant.

The aroma of warm coffee wafted in the air. She plopped down into the barstool, a soft grin spreading on her lips.

It reminded her of Nonni. Her grandmother had always enjoyed her coffee, especially Italian roast. Serah on the other hand, preferred the darker, more flavorful blends. Usually she’d make an espresso, but she had the sinking suspicion she was brewing for more than one today.