Page 17 of Jackal's Pride

“Am I supposed to sit in that?” I turned as he scoffed. “I won’t fit.”

I lowered my head and bit back a chuckle. It was right on the tip of my tongue to say something about his massive cock but of course he wouldn’t get it. Didn’t keep my chest from tickling with the need to laugh though.

Cute.

Heat spread across my cheeks as I thought of how oddly adorable he was. Then my smile waned as I noticed the strange affection I was having for this entire situation.

“You’ll fit,” I assured him. I had one of those rounded porcelain tubs. He’d fit but he’d have to sit straight up with his legs bent up.

I saw that he was still dressed. “Have a change of heart about clothing so soon?”

The clothes came off after that. I splashed the water with my palm encouragingly as he stalked near me. It was a job itself not to stare between his legs, but gawking at the sinewy muscles of his abdomen and chest was equally frustrating.

Because holy shit! This man was flawless. It physically hurt to gaze at him. My core clenched in response to every muscular inch of him. I focused on the water at that point, swallowing slowly as he stepped into the tub.

Why did I get myself into these situations? Didn’t pride ever get tired of testing me in some way?

“What is that smell?” His lips curled upward into a snarl as he sat down in the water. As I thought, he fit but it was a sight to see. Not that I expected him to lie back and relax, anyway. Stiff and uncomfortable was what I envisioned from the beginning. He propped his elbows on his knees.

“What? The bubble bath? It’s strawberries and cream scent.” I really did add a lot. He was already covered just by sitting in the water.

He started blowing air out of his nose like he was trying to blow a booger out, then reached up with his hand to cup it. Soap clung to his fingers. “Jack—” Too late, he was already smearing it in his eyes.

He flinched. “It’s burning my eyes.” He continuously rubbed more into them.

“Stop, you’re making it worse,” I told him pulling his hands away from his face. His eyes were squinted shut but his face turned in my direction.Cute,I thought again briefly. “Splash some water over them.”

He spread his legs and grabbed a huge clump of soap. “What water? It’s all fizz.”

I lost it. I fell to my knees and snickered.

“Are you laughing?” His voice was equally shocked and angry. “Do something.”

“Here,” I said through tears. Grabbing a washcloth on the rack next to me, I bent over and stuck it under the faucet. It was easier than trying to stick his head under it—he was too big for that. I wet the cloth twice and wrung it out over his eyes before he stopped nagging.

I reeled in my smile when his bloodshot eyes pinned me with a scowl. Okay, that was a little mean. Soap in the eyes were brutal, even for entities.

He tried to stand, and I gripped his bicep. “Where are you going?” I asked him.

“I bathed, now I’m getting out.”

“You have to actually wash yourself.”

He just blinked at me. I groaned. “Let this be the demonstration. I’m going to wash you so you’ll know what to do from now on. And that’s a command.” His lips twitched, revealing his white canines, and I remembered. “Oh, and you’re brushing that mouth. No more rats for you, Mister.”

“I’m going to—”

“Kill me,” I finished for him again. “These threats are getting old.” I squirted some of my body wash on the washcloth and lathered it until soap was visible on it.

I started at his shoulders as he sulked, running the cloth down his arm. I repeated the process to his other having to bend over him as I did. My hair fell onto his chest and he reared back like I slapped him. I whipped the ponytail onto my back but as I grabbed his hand and slid the cloth between his fingers, it fell onto him again. He sucked in a breath and slowly gravitated back toward me. I dropped his hand into the water and tilted my head so that we were eye to eye.

My body tingled with awareness. The heat emanating from the water dampened the skin on my neck. He reached up, curled my hair around his fist one time before placing it on my back again. Heat pooled in my lower stomach.

I placed the cloth on his neck, running it along his collarbone slowly. He watched every little thing I did. It wasn’t irritating nor was it bad. It was strangely intimate. My flesh was fevered now instead of just warm. In addition, his penetrating stare reached between my thighs. A terrible yearning took root inside me.

I engrossed myself with cleaning his chest. The way the suds ran down the ridges and brawny layers on his abdomen, and the way he sucked in when I reached his stomach. I peeked up to see the shadowy, almost pained expression on him. His eyes were terribly dark and glassy when they were normally so bright and green. He latched onto my hand that was scrubbing him. “I can do it from here,” he whispered, his voice strangely husky.

Embarrassment slipped through my features, my mouth frowned before I could process that I was indeed disappointed. He thought I’d…

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