Page 44 of A Chip on Her Shoulder

A wiser woman would have kicked the Devil out of her home, but I invited him to straddle my lower back and play with a rather lovely spot. As expected, he possessed a gentle touch, and he took fiendish delight in stroking my fur. The instant he figured out the spot made me purr, he chuckled and indulged me. “I see I am being cruelly used for your pleasure.”

Yep. “I like back rubs, too.”

“Women usually do. It’s not counting spots if I’m massaging you, is it?”

“Just keep your hands from wandering inappropriately.”

“Most cruel,” the Devil murmured.

“My brother will disapprove of anyone giving me a back rub, so you can indulge in your evil ways through quiet feuding with a chipmunk. While you’re rewarding me with a back rub, I’m going to plot revenge.”

“You don’t have a chip on your shoulder. It’s a mountain,” the Devil muttered. “It has been centuries since the last time I was actually concerned over how far a mortal would go.”

“Are you going to bitch and moan about the lethal poisoning thing again?”

“It is disturbing I feel I must, as you will not.”

“Well, yeah. I’ve the word of an archangel he can deal with the whole poison thing. Pain and suffering aren’t really my thing, but I’ll deal with it for the sake of some justice mixed in with a healthy dose of revenge. Maybe you’re the one who needs a back rub. Do you even know how to relax?”

“If I say I know how to relax, does that mean I won’t get a back rub?”

The Devil amused me. Had anyone told me I would like him a few days ago, I would have laughed long and hard. “I’ll think about it.”

“We are making your brother rather uncomfortable for some reason.”

“That’s because he’s almost as much of a pervert as he is an asshole.”

“I’m a pervert,” the Devil announced with pride.

“You’re a lecherous spot counter, it’s true. More rubbing, less talking,” I ordered.

“Bossy.”

I stretched, cradled my head in my arms, and waited for my owed massage.

If anyone learned that the Devil had magical hands meant for offering massages, he would be mobbed, I would be robbed of future back rubs, and I bet he could gather the souls of many in exchange for his work. It took him all of five minutes to reduce me to a purring mess.

“This is how you work a woman, Jonas. First, you buy her nice things. Your sister seems to have a strange appreciation for hot beverages perverted into becoming cold beverages. Find out what they like and make small offerings to test the waters. Should the tentative offering be accepted, you begin the next phase.” The Devil’s fingers dug at my right shoulder, and I melted under his touch. “Most women will turn into women-shaped puddles when properly massaged. This makes them rather pliable, although some have hidden swords rather than bone for spines, so they are only pliable for however long you’re massaging them. You need to be clever about the timing. Seduction attempts are far more likely to succeed should you pounce during a massage when she is happy, relaxed, and potentially more receptive to your pouncing. Weak men, much like that Lorenzo Gallo fellow, are unclear on the concept of how to make a more satisfying conquest. Really, it’s a much more intense power trip when you get a woman to beg through a drawn-out seduction. Of course, there is a time and a place for tortured screams, but it’s ideal if your woman wants to help you make the screaming happen with a mutually disliked target.”

My brother’s indignant squeak from his cage on the coffee table made me giggle.

“He is absolutely horrified I am educating him on the art of seduction while I have my hands all over you, his sister. It’s delightful. I am accomplishing so much through a single act. I haven’t had this much fun since my last visit to my dungeon to give some fucking assholes some personal attention.”

“You’re going to ruin your reputation if you keep this up,” I warned him. “You have ventured into gentleman territory, and your reputation very clearly states there is nothing gentlemanly about you. Yet here we are, with you trying to teach my brother to be a slightly perverted gentleman.”

“But will gentlemanly behavior result in me being able to count extra spots today?” the Devil asked. “Some sacrifices are worth making, especially if there might be some pleasant screams in my future.”

I could think of three types of screams, one of which belonged in the positive category and two which belonged in the fear and suffering categories. Upon close consideration, depending on how the Devil’s dates with his succubi went, I would consider being game for all three, although the Devil would have to earn his keep if he wanted me in any position where I might be screaming for any reason. “Do you count Gallo’s screaming as pleasant? Because I am not a good person right now, and I would be very pleased by his screams.”

“After today, his screams will be the sweetest of music in my dungeons. Does an extra good massage earn me an extra spot? I’d really like an extra spot.”

I pointed at a random spot on my upper arm. “Is there a spot there?”

“There is,” the Devil confirmed.

“You can count that one, but you have to massage until I nap, and then you can count that spot however long you like, just do your work between spot counting sessions. Try to leave some of my fur intact. Rubbing all my fur off would be rude and likely bar you from future spot counting sessions.”

“See, Jonas? I brought the goods to the table and received a prize for my excellent behavior. However, I have lost this war, because I absolutely do not want to indulge in spot counting without the subject of my attention being fully present. I have won, yet I have bitterly lost.”