Page 23 of Reluctant Rebel

“I am such a catch,” he told his reflection in disgust. “Not that I want to be a catch,” he then said sternly, shaking a finger at himself.

He quickly brushed his teeth before flicking the taps on behind him. The shower hissed to life, steam billowing up and over the glass. He stepped in and promptly let out a long sigh as hot water cascaded over his body. Tension slowly melted away, and his mind began to wander.

The shower had always been a place for mental gymnastics for him. Some of his most intricate laws had been created within the expansive shower stall. Three glass walls rose to the ceiling, giving a panoramic view of the bathroom. The floor was tiled with white and grey marble, while the walls were a mesmerising mosaic of blue and green tiles, creating a tranquil atmosphere. The shower head itself was a large, luxurious rainfall. Because the meeting had been derailed the day before, he faced the daunting task of rescheduling as soon as he stepped out of the shower.

He groaned, resting his forehead against the tiled wall. He didn’t want to deal with the inevitable questions and the disappointed looks. But they needed to discuss their next steps, and without a meeting of minds, they would remain floundering where Z was concerned. But how was he supposed to act around Jinx? Should he treat her like a subject, a distant acquaintance, or a friend? The possibilities swirled in his mind, making it difficult for him to focus on anything else. Maybe he should ignore her?

“Yeah, do that. And have Sabre to deal with,” he muttered, lathering his body with his favourite soap.

What he really wanted to do was make sure she was okay. Was her night as restless as his own? A part of him hoped so. He quickly scrubbed his body, telling himself he was a selfish jerk who didn’t deserve someone as beautiful as Jinx. And just like that, her lovely smile popped into his brain. Her dimpled cheeks were swiftly followed by images of the gentle curve of her neck and her pert behind.

His breath quickened as he recalled the softness of her skin where he had touched her, not to mention the sizzling electricity that sparked between them. Unbidden, his hand slid down his chest, droplets of water trailing in its wake. He imagined her delicate fingers in place of his own, tracing the contours of hissix-pack. A low groan escaped his lips as his arousal grew. Steam swirled around him, heightening his senses.

When his hand met his pubic hair, he hesitated. He felt skeevy as hell and really damned hypocritical. But he couldn't help it. Thoughts of her touch, her scent, her smile, even her hair, all of it sent his body into a frenzy. He felt like one big walking erection. It wasn’t like he could act on his thoughts for real, so would it be so terrible to indulge in a fantasy or two in the privacy of his own shower?

He stuck his dripping head out of the stall so he could peer around his empty bathroom. “Hello?” he called. “Is there anybody here to judge me for yanking on my dick to thoughts of a weretiger one-fifth my age and whom my guardian loves like a sister?” He cupped his ear, listening hard. “No? Okay then.”

He pulled his head back in and immediately braced one hand against the slick tile wall. “It doesn’t count if it’s fast,” he told himself as he grabbed his hard shaft, squeezing it at the base.

Images of Jinx filled his mind—how her small but perfect breasts would press against his chest, the hard tips rubbing erotically against his naked skin as she sank to her knees in front of him. Her lips would be so soft as they pressed against his, and her fingers would tangle in his hair as she moaned his name.

The sound of his palm vigorously working his dick could be heard over the falling water, and he’d never been so grateful that Sabre declined to stay in the room next to his in favour of Brax’s. When fantasy-Jinx swallowed his cock, gagging prettily with tears of lust leaking from the corners of her eyes, he let out a guttural roar. His release bordered on violent, painting the tiles white as his body trembled and he rode out the waves of pleasure.

He caught his breath, leaning against the glass for support. “So fast it almost didn’t happen,” he assured himself. Hefinished showering and dressed, eager to distance himself from fantasy-Jinx and the fresh guilt that gnawed at him.

He’d only just added some bread to the toaster when there was a knock on the door. He contemplated not answering. He didn’t want company when he was still all flushed and tingly. What if they realised that he’d had a self-induced orgasm just minutes before? But his upbringing won out, and he squared his shoulders, opening the door to reveal Marius. Marius was one of the loyal guards who had been with him before his ‘death’ and throughout the intervening months with the rebels.

“Your guests are here,” the werewolf said.

Mikhail frowned. “What guests?”

“Your brother and his guardian. The strange zombie man and the young vampire,” Marius listed off. “And the weretiger.”

“Don’t forget me, the famous angel assassin, sent to save the world and make it a better place,” Sabre said, breezing past Marius.

A muscle ticked in Marius’s jaw as he tracked Sabre’s movements. “And the assassin.”

“My guardian,” Mikhail corrected firmly. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect towards Sabre, no matter who it was from. Sabre and his rebels had been undergoing a period of adjustment since his return. His comrades had taken responsibility for his safety while he was away. And although he knew Sabre wasn’t exactly jealous of them, she did resent theneedfor them. Mikhail didn’t blame her.

“Of course, My King,” Marius said, bowing slightly.

“Kiss arse,” Sabre muttered to Marius.

When Mikhail glared at her, she merely smiled toothily back. “Thank you, Marius,” Mikhail said, opening the door wider for the rest of his unexpected guests. When Jinx walked past him, he held his breath. The last thing he needed was another erection. “What are you all doing here?”

“The little issue of our murderous brother,” Brax answered dryly, grabbing the toast when it popped and buttering it. “Where’s the rest of the food?”

“There is no rest,” Mikhail replied. He strode over to Brax, plucking the toast from his hand and taking a huge bite.

Brax scowled at him. “That was mine.”

Mikhail chewed loudly, shoving half the toast into his mouth. “It was never yours. You weren’t invited.” His words were muffled, and crumbs flew past his lips, landing on the floor and Brax.

Brax stared at the wet crumbs on his sleeve in horror. “You are fucking disgusting.”

When he tried to wipe them on Mikhail, Mikhail dodged easily, laughing and spraying more crumbs. Only when he bumped into Jinx did he realise his shenanigans were being witnessed by his rejected mate, her best friends, and two angels. “He started it,” was all he could think to say, pointing at Brax.

“Real mature,” his brother shouted casually from across the room. He held up Mikhail’s loaf of bread. “Anyone want toast?”

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