Excerpt of Wasteland by Lynn Rush

"One more dance?” She focused on me, her lips puckered out. “That song was half-way through, so it doesn’t count.”

“I should g-”

“Just one.”

She gathered me to her, flattening her breasts against my chest. So close she had to put one of her feet between mine so we could move. Her warmth seeped through her thin shirt into mine. Hunger for her forced the air from my lungs. The demon demanded to be let out.

“So, do you have a name?” Her minty breath washed over me, and I put my hands on her hips.

“What is yours?” I asked.

“Rebeka, but everyone calls me Beka.”

“You frequent this establishment?”

Her inner thigh skimmed my leg as she leaned into me more. My hold on her hips tightened, keeping her core from mine. The prickle of my demon sliced at my heart, urging me to pull her close. My heart pounded and body tightened. I couldn’t handle much more touching before I lost control.

“Yes. I’m here often.” She held my gaze. “Tell me your name.”

“I am David.”

We swayed in silence, her body dangerously close to mine, yet I absorbed every touch. I played with fire remaining in her embrace, but for unknown reasons, I dove in further.

“Where are you from, Beka?”

“Here. I was raised here. You?”

“Nowhere special. Passing through town.”

Her gaze inched down. “Just passing through? How long will you be here?”

“Not sure yet.”

Her teeth sank into her lip again.

I stiffened. That gesture with her mouth was too much. “I should be going now.”

“Will you be back?” She loosened her grip.

Frigid air seeped between us, and I wanted to pull her close again. She felt like heaven against me. “I might be.”

“Hope so.” She winked.

My gaze swept over her body, taking in the soft, delicate skin held captive by her tank top. With each breath her chest swelled. We hadn’t danced quickly, but she was winded.

A thin, black line of ink peeked out from behind her earlobe. The beginnings of a tattoo. Possibly marking her identity. Guardians bore a tattoo distinguishing them from humans. I drew in a breath, strengthening my resolve to remain in control, and cupped her cheek. She gasped and leaned into my hand like I’d hoped.

The fury of blazing heat streaming from her face in my grasp threatened to distract me. My pulse hammered. But I had to see the mark. A thin line followed the curve of her lobe and disappeared into the shadow behind her ear.

Her teeth grated her lip. Must be a nervous habit. But the action chipped at my resolve each time.

One quick taste.

I brought my other hand to her face, the side with the mark, and curled my fingers around her neck, moving my thumb behind her ear. Her hands cuffed my wrists, but not to push me away. Instead her stare bore into mine like a freight train. The flashing lights of the club bounced a coral, teal, and violet rainbow over her shimmering skin.

The people surrounding us blurred into oblivion, and the music faded into a storm of muffled pitches and tones.

I concentrated on her shining lips and took in the warmth of her body so close to mine. I wanted only the sense of touch to be awake while I reveled in the silky texture of her skin. For so long I’d touched nothing. If I was going to break my rules, I would enjoy it.

Her hands glided from my wrists down my forearms and up my biceps, sending a ripple of desire through my soul. I could resist no longer. I brushed my lips against hers and tasted melon. She heaved a sharp breath and clamped her fingers around my shoulders, holding me in place.

Scents of lilac permeated me. My heart hammered, and my demon pounded, wanting out.

Wanting her.

I turned my head, severing our connection. Too intense. Must stay in control. She let out a whimper. I pressed my mouth to her cheek and tilted her head.

I almost wished I hadn’t.

She bore the mark of a Guardian, immortal protectors of the humans.

I drank Beka in for three long breaths, knowing it may be my last chance to hold her close. Because if Beka truly was guarding Jessica Hanks I would more than likely have to kill her to get my Mark.