He wasn't quite sure what that meant by ' We will figure it out'. There was no 'we' as much as it irked him. There was no dragging her into this mess she didn't create. She truly didn't deserve to have his demon baggage at her door step. She didn't deserve it, she didn't deserve him showing up after all that time with all these selfish notions that things would go right back to normal. Whatever normal really was. They were hardly normal. He had to look away from her to focus his pale hardened gaze on something else. Of course it didn't last for long. He found her irresistible in so many ways, it wouldn't take long for that gaze to find her once more. He knew if he ever had a weakness it was her, it would always be her. He didn't shoot her insistent help down, but he also remained silent. He was not going to drag her into his madness. It was a deal he made with that demon, not her. It was him who broke and simply could not take his own reality anymore. Not Serafina. He would rather disappear and find her safe rather than have her wading through the muck of his own bad choices.

As they finally made it back to her place. Serafina revealed that her mentor was already dead killed by her familiar. It should have been him. "Regardless who killed him, I hope the man suffered." The Irishman admitted a little peeved he wasn't able to get his revenge on the man who took away everything away from him. He could feel his fists pull into tight fists to the point that he could feel it through even the callused layer of his hands, his jaw clenching. There was nothing he could do about the past or the fact that time went on without him. She offered being able to talk to her dead mentor and he believed there was no use arguing with the dead. He was so pissed he wasn't able to help her, to be there for her when she needed him the most. How he would have loved to be the one who showed that mentor a lesson. The way her voice was void of emotion only showed to him how much it bothered her. "You should send his ghost or whatever he is to where he sent me. Let him rot a little in the hell he chose for me." There was a darkness within his voice of a calloused killer that was lethal in every way when he needed to be.

There was a subtle warmth within that house of hers, it felt nice upon his cold wet skin. That rain had saturated him to his very core. But what made him instantly forget about all of that was her voice that told him to strip, in which he happily obliged. He liked the way her eyes watched him, the way he could still see the heat ignite within her eyes. She bit her lip and it almost drove him over an edge, everything that made him male beckoned for her. She could set him on fire from the inside with just one look. It had been so long since she had looked at him with that look. But then she just collected his things, turned and walked away from him. Tease.

How quick she was to try and slip away from him. He wasn't going to not pursue, every fiber in his being told him to do it. It had been so long since he had seen her, she wasn't about to just run away and retreat from him after she told him to strip. After that look. He was all too aware how her eye lingered upon his well-muscled body longer than she probably would have liked to admit. He missed her, he craved her there was no denying that and he did not hide it from his eyes. Their potent attraction was impossible to ignore. Of course, his timing seemed to be impeccable as the dark haired woman just so happened to be removing her bra. Perfect timing, indeed. He watches her shamelessly, almost hungry as he soaks up the soft curves and details of her back. Why couldn't they indulge one another? Surely his story wasn't that good. The warlock could truly entertain her before they did the word thing. Internally he uttered. Nonoononooooo as she reached out for the oversized shirt in her closet. Putting it on before answering him. His face etched into a deep frown. Of course, Serfina could look sexy in a garbage bag if she chose to wear one. He just wanted to see more of the view she teased him with. "You know very well I can do both." He also knew he could just as easily remove the shirt faster than she could put it on.

"We don't need to fix this mess, this is my mess. I made it, I need to clean it up." It was like straight up kindergarten 101. "But we could make a mess together?" The scoundrel of a man just could not seem to help himself. She clearly was showing way more restraint than he wanted her to. Was she not interested in him? He knew his charms must be a little rusty and truly he didn't even try all that hard. Maybe that was where he was going wrong. "Serafina." He spoke her name softly, so softly and sensual. He walked toward her with purpose while she was too busy ruining everything with more clothing. He was positive if he could just touch her, he could speak to those impulses she seemed to be refusing. He craved to feel the heat of her body near him. "Don't you want to get warm?" His voice held a promise, every word uttered from his lips sounded sinful. He reached out to touch her, to pull her into him. "I know just a way to fight off that chill." He remained poised to kiss her but reading her expression before he did. That slight hesitation was like an unspoken question, that one opportunity to say no before he could not stop himself. He was a man of impulse, his desires were strong, stronger than most. He looked at her in that heated way, a look of promise, a knowing look that said he knew how to make her world spin.

Brennan O'Connell