I blinked. What was wrong with me? That was far too tender a sentiment, and while yes, it was true, I needed to temper it with another, less savoury truth. For my own wellbeing …

I let my mouth curve into a lopsided smirk. “It’s far too much fun to negotiate the terms of your tasks with you … to watch you squirm as you try to work out a way around what I require of you.”

“That’s so magnanimous of you!” she replied, voice loaded with sarcasm. Her body moved against my palms as she wriggled, her own lips tilting upwards at the corners, her eyes glinting with that calculating gleam that … damn it, I enjoyed eliciting in her far, far too much.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked, clawing my fingers into the giving flesh of her waist just enough to still her.

“You just said you like to watch me squirm,” she breathed, arching just enough that her breasts brushed against me. My cock stirred. I gritted my teeth.

Maddening female!

“Tell me about Ratty-Man,” I growled, and thankfully, those words stopped her in her tracks.

“Ratty-Man?” she asked, mystified. Then her face broke into a delighted grin. “You mean Chad? Oh my God, he does have a rat face, doesn’t he?” A giggle erupted from her. I fought against the muscles in my face that longed to mirror her delight back to her.

“Yes, Ratty-Man. I am assuming he is the … ex-boyfriend? The ‘lying, cheating, thieving’ one?” She nodded, the smile slipping. Chad was very rapidly moving up the list of humans who would be first in line for a phone message from FiendPay when I went wide with it.

“What did he do to you?”

Her eyes darted between mine and then away. “It was such a long time ago, I …” Her words broke off when I tightened my grip on her, leaning closer, putting my mouth next to her ear.

“And yet, whatever he did is still raw enough that the Soul Token was practically vibrating out of my pocket with your unhappiness.”

“You can … that thing lets you know when I’m …”

“Tell me what he did to you,” I rumbled.

She sighed. “I was a stupid, naïve girl, and I let him trick me into thinking he loved me … but it turned out he actually only loved my art.”

My brow furrowed. “Is that what he stole? Your art?”

She shook her head. “No … well, not exactly.” She gnawed on that plump lip, and suddenly, words were spilling out of her.

“We met at university and dated for a year. We were both studying for a Bachelor of Fine Arts. For our final class, we had this complete arsehole of a professor. The entire grade hinged on us developing a gallery-worthy collection.”

She unconsciously plucked at one of the buttons on my shirt, making my stomach muscles dip when her fingers brushed me.