Page 78 of Hot Girls Date Demons

Maybe just for now.

Because apparently my Demon husband wants to show me the world.

Literal worlds.

Earth first.

Nightfall after that.

And considering we're still in what Desmond adorably calls our “courtship season,” I figure a little traveling sounds nice.

Especially since every time he says “honeymoon,” his eyes get all soft and dreamy.

Which is hilarious because seven-foot Demons shouldn't look dreamy.

And yet somehow he manages it.

“Thinking dangerous thoughts again?”

I smile before I even turn around.

Because I know that voice.

And I know that scent.

Chocolate.

Cinnamon.

Home.

Desmond wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his chin on top of my head while I stand in my tiny apartment kitchen.

Well.

Former apartment.

Technically.

Because I haven't officially moved out yet.

“Just thinking,” I tell him.

“A dangerous pastime.”

I laugh.

“That's rich coming from the man who rode trains because he was lonely.”

“It was emotionally beneficial public transportation.”

I laugh harder.

“Sure it was.”

His chest vibrates against my back.

That purring thing.