"Jack?" she called as she entered the room. He didn't answer, so she approached the shower door and opened it.

Jack stood facing her in the center of the shower with all the jets trained on him. His arms were up, fingers threaded through his hair, eyes closed. Her mouth went dry. He looked like a god standing there all wet and naked. She wanted him again already.

But she was pissed.

"Jack? You're a really moody son of a bitch, you know that?”

His eyes opened and she saw something in them for a moment—something dark and painful. It was gone as quickly as she'd glimpsed it. Like storm clouds rolling through on a summer day. In its wake, he didn't look so much like a luscious, drenched god as he did a lonely man.

She hesitated, then stepped into the shower and walked toward him. The comforting warmth of the water hit her, wetting her hair and skin.

Jack pulled her to him as soon as she was within arm's reach and held her against his body. He plunged his hands into her hair and buried his face in the curve of her neck.

Mira let out a deep sigh of pleasure, feeling him pressed against her and his arms around her. She let her hands roam his warm, wet muscled back and shoulders. "What did you mean?" she asked near his ear. "What did you mean ... you're sorry?”

He only forced her mouth to his and nipped her bottom lip, demanding she let him in. She opened her mouth and his tongue swept in to brush against hers. That same fire she'd felt in the living room rushed through her body. It was like Jack had opened some floodgate inside her. She practically had to stop herself from climbing his body and impaling herself on his cock.

Jack tangled his fingers through her wet hair and took her in a rough, near-bruising kiss, as commanding and overwhelming as the man himself. It left her breathless and her mind fumbling for coherent thought.

"Mira," he groaned ragged against her ear. "I want you again.”

"So, take me. I'm yours.”

"No condom.”

"Jack, if it's STDs you're worried about—”

"No." He shook his head. "It's near impossible for our kind to catch those. I'm worried about pregnancy.”

"Oh, that. Don't I wish. Jack, you know, Ben and I tried for years and never conceived. I don't really think that's an issue.”

He held her gaze for a moment before speaking. "Ben wasn't like you, Mira. Ben wasn't a witch like me. A witch and non-witch are damn near infertile. A witch and another witch on the other hand ..." he trailed off.

Realization dawned. "Oh.”

He nodded. "Very fertile.”