Page 55 of How Not to Date a Demon

“Are you laughing at me?” she yelled, majorly offended. “You said you wouldn’t!”

“I’m sorry, I just—I suffered through that whole meal so I didn’t hurt your feelings,” he confessed. “You said it was a new recipe, and I felt bad. How mean.” He pouted.

“Oh shut up, it’s not like it killed you,” she drawled. Maeve couldn’t let him see how sweet she thought he was. Dammit.

“A little salt? No, it just turned my bloodstream into the Dead Sea,” he drawled.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” she sassed. “Do you wanna know the second trial or not?”

“Do I ever,” he told her, and pulled out the other bar chair to sit beside her. He hooked his bare foot around the bottom rung on her chair and tugged her closer.

“Part two was silver, though I didn’t end up getting around to it until the end,” she admitted when he nudged her with his elbow.

His mouth made an audible pop as it dropped open, and his gaze lowered to her cleavage.

“Yeah, it’s what you think,” she admitted with a groan, staring up at the ceiling. “I bought silver body jewelry. Figured if you were a werewolf you couldn’t suck on my titties with the silver in.”

She watched the mirth begin to glow in his gaze, and she narrowed her eyes in challenge. “Well, it worked, didn’t it? You’re welcome. I rocked your world with that new titty jewelry. Confirmed it, not a werewolf.”

Maeve tried not to remember all the details of how exactly he’d rocked her world that night. She definitely wasn’t recalling how he tugged on the thin chain attached to each nipple, making her quiver while he was inside her.

“The third one was iron,” she announced, distracting herself from those thoughts. There was no way she was having another orgasm.

Galen didn’t seem to have the same reservations, and he spread his legs a little more on the chair, staring up at her in a challenge.

Do not jump his bones, she told herself.

No bones jumping.

Nuh-uh.

“Iron. Cast iron. Same thing, right? But you didn’t flinch when you got the cornbread off the counter for me. Haha, funny,” she said, waving her spirit fingers.

“I think your mythology is a little… off,” he pointed out. She shot him a glare.

“So… I assume the fourth had something to do with cleaning out your grandmother’s chest?”

Rolling her eyes at her transparency, she nodded. “Yeah. Religious relics didn’t work either.”

He chuckled. “They normally don’t. What was the last one?”

Maeve paused, remembering the last and final option and eating her last bite of ice cream to console herself. She was about to sound extra psycho. “Five wasn’t an option, even from the beginning, I’d like to note. And after the jewelry, I let it go. I accepted that maybe I was the crazy one and you were definitely normal and there was no reason I needed to even go through with the first four trials. So that was when I decided to forget it altogether.”

“When we did the scene,” he said, putting the pieces together.

She hummed in affirmation. “I was relieved even though I was frustrated.” A dreamy smile curled her lips at the memory as she pulled the spoon from between her lips to get every last sugary drop. “And it’s always fun to put you in your place,” she said, glancing at him from beneath her lashes.

Galen’s eyes met hers and darkened. Then he was off his bar stool and sliding his hands around her waist and squeezing. “Maeve,” he murmured reverently. He lowered his head to her neck, and she paused, found herself tilting her head up to give him more room.

Having a demon boyfriend was pretty cool so far.

“What was the fifth trial?” he asked, and then pulled back with a grin.

That fucking tease.

“No, I’m not telling you because it was stupid anyway. Reading it almost turned me off the article altogether, but believe it or not, my resources were slim.”

“Then it should be no big deal to tell me what it was,” he pressed.