"Hug, no. Kiss, yes," he ordered. "Now."

She laughed nervously, and he leaned forward.

A flash of cool energy zipped through him as their lips met. She was hesitant, and he kissed her gently, not wanting to scare her despite his raging blood. Her plump lips were perfect for kissing. He nibbled on her lower lip then deepened the kiss. She responded and opened to him, leaning into him. She tasted like honey, and he reveled in the warmth of her body, her hot mouth. He kissed her long and light, enjoying the sensations of her body as she became aroused. Her lips grew hungrier, her breathing quickened, her body warmer. She didn't have his cold control; she was the kind of woman who would give herself freely in bed and hold no part of her back.

"Dusty!" Darian's voice reminded Dusty of the world outside Bianca's body. He withdrew, not looking at the shocked man standing in the kitchen doorway.

"You have to the count of three to get the fuck out of here, Darian," he said in a low, even voice. "One."

Darian was gone. He was almost relieved for the distraction. He didn't need this type of drama, and she was too good for a man like him in her life.

He met Bianca's beautiful brown eyes. She gazed at him, lips parted and face flushed. Her raw sweetness threatened his resolve to keep his distance. He took in her features, gaze resting on her lips. He gave her a light kiss, unable to resist.

"I should go," he said and pushed himself away. He didn't want to, even though he had a ton of things to do.

"Yes, you should," she whispered, her voice husky.

Of all the places he had to be, this wasn't one of them, and yet, he couldn't leave this time. It had something to do with the beautiful woman before him who made him feel for the first time in years. Maybe it was his looming death, or maybe it was the energy from her cool touch that calmed him from the inside out, but he wondered what life would've been like had his family survived.

"Who was it?" she asked.

"Who was what?" he hemmed.

"Whomever you still mourn."

"You can sense that?"

She nodded. "Every time we touch."

He crossed his arms and glanced at his watch. He didn't have time for this, but he still couldn't find the will to leave her.

"My sister," he said at last. "She died when I was ten with the rest of my family. The White God adopted me. I inherited a hatred for immortals after what they did to my family, so he eventually made me his chief assassin. I have no mercy for any creature that preys on humans."




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