Page 52 of Claimed By Rage

REBEL:

your 2 busy

im on the way

RAGE:

I’ll pick you up, Celia. Don’t leave.

REBEL:

send us a pic. I bet ur soaking wet

(wink emoji)??

The flowersdefinitelyweren’t Rebel’s idea. I’m smiling as I temp the water and get undressed. My phone pings while I scrub my hair, and I reach outside the shower door to grab it.

Rebel sent me a picture in a private chat. I nearly drop my damn phone. “Shit.Holyshit.” He’s lounging in bed shirtless, the colorful tattoos inked across his chest on full display. There are no words, only thick outlines filled with deep greens and blues and reds. I can’t make out the design, so I refocus on his face.

He’s ridiculously handsome when he smiles.

Staring directly at the camera, he takes my breath away. The snakebite in his bottom lip catches the flash from when he took the photo. His hair is messier than usual, both falling into his eyes and sticking out at the same time. From up close, I realize that his irises aren’t gray—they’re hazel, with deep, dark brown roots near the center.

REBEL:

ready 2 see me?

I blush furiously, feeling younger than I have in years. I don’t text people often, and I never,eversend photos unless it’s for a client.

But this time, I make an exception. Snapping a selfie, I giggle as it sends. Three bubbles pulse while Rebel types his reply.

REBEL:

damn baby

gonna give me a (heart emoji) ♥? attack with that smile

show me more?

He knows I’m in the shower. I didn’t exactly try to hide it.

REBEL:

ive got more for u 2

Another picture pops into our chat, and this time, Idodrop my phone. “Ah!” It lands on the top of my foot, making me hiss. “Shit! Fuck!” I scramble for my phone, but it’s sitting at the bottom of the shower, soaking wet, just like me. The screen is dark. The buttons won’t work. Those texts and pictures are gone forever.

But the sight of Rebel’s dick, flushed red at the tip, his hand gripping the thick shaft, with not one piercing butthreeglinting in the light, is burned into my mind.

My flush deepens and I swallow hard. I bet a picture doesn’t do him justice. I bet his cock is just as pretty as he is.

And now, he probably thinks I’m ghosting him after seeing his dick.

“Fuck. Me.”

I rush through the rest of my shower, anxious for whatever comes next. Because if I’m being honest with myself…

A breakfast date and a little flirting doesn’t sound bad at all.

---