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Authors: Mandy Baxter

One Touch More (12 page)

BOOK: One Touch More
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“Sure.” Deputy Gates gave her a sad smile as he fished a business card from his pocket. He held it out to her and she took it between shaking fingers. “Here's my card. The number for my personal extension is listed at the bottom. Call me anytime. I'd love to talk to you—about
anything
.”
Panic surged as adrenaline pooled in Tabitha's limbs. Either Gates was a mind reader or he knew she was nothing more than a cowardly liar. She swore he had her number and was just waiting for her to give it up. “Thanks. I'll think about it.”
Without another word, she climbed into her car and forced the key into the ignition. It took a couple of tries, but the engine finally turned over and she fought the urge to put the pedal to the metal and tear out of there, squealing tires and all. Instead, she gave him a bright smile and waved as she backed out of the parking space and pulled out of the parking lot. It was only after she was past the security gate that she allowed a tear to trickle down her cheek.
God, Tabitha. You are such a coward.
 
 
“Hey, Tabs. How was your day?”
When she woke up this morning, Tabitha never thought that her day would take a downward spiral that crashed and burned and left no survivors. But damn, had it ever. “What are you drinking?”
Seth held up the bottle of Blue Moon IPA and she took it from his grasp. “Hey! I just opened that.”
Today had definitely been a three-beer day, but she'd settle for this one. Tabitha brought the bottle to her lips despite her brother's protest and drained half of it in a couple of swallows. “I swear, if I have to fish one more turd out of the swimming pool, I'm going to go postal. Toddlers and swimming pools
don't
mix.”
Seth laughed with all of the amusement of a twelve-year-old. “That's gross.”
“It's beyond gross.” Tabitha plopped down on the couch beside her brother and propped her feet up on the coffee table. “I'm so sick of bitchy, demanding guests, of smiling and nodding when I want to throttle someone. I'm tired of fishing disgusting things out of the pool and dealing with trashed rooms that I don't blame the housekeeping staff for not wanting to clean.”
Seth let out a deep sigh and averted his gaze. “You should quit. I'm working full-time. I'll cover rent, groceries, and utilities. You can focus on school and take a break.”
She cut him a look that said,
Yeah. Right
. “That's not possible, Seth, and you know it.”
“How do we even know that Joey will do anything? I mean, at this point, it's just as risky for him as it is for me. If he turns me in to Boise PD, they could arrest him, too. I don't think he'll talk. He's bluffing and holding it over your head to keep his cushy gig at the hotel going.”
“What?” She'd never told Seth about the threats Joey had made. “Seth, I—”
“Come on, Tabs. I'm not an idiot. Give me a little credit here. I know that he's making you set him up with rooms at the hotel. No way would you help him if he wasn't holding me over your head.”
She hadn't wanted him to find out. Didn't want to put that guilt on him. But one thing her brother wasn't was stupid, and Seth did have a point. Tabitha didn't want to push her luck or take unnecessary chances at this point. “I know you're not an idiot, Seth. I was just trying to protect you. But Joey isn't stupid, either. I'm sure he's covered his bases. And if Boise PD ever does arrest him, he'll turn State's evidence like he said and put it all on you. I'm not quitting my job on a hunch that he's bluffing. I can suck it up. This can't go on forever.”
“But I didn't do anything,” Seth remarked. “Not really.”
“No. You only hooked him up with the guy who's supplying that shit he's selling.” Tabitha couldn't help the accusing tone of her voice. She'd done everything in her power—things that weighed her down with guilt—to make sure that she and Seth could make a clean break from their past. Instead, Seth had kept in contact with the one man Tabitha couldn't seem to get him away from. The man who'd enabled her parents' bad habits and effectively ruined her and Seth's lives. While Tabitha thought she'd made the right decisions, done what she had to do to get Seth out of the life, he'd been going behind her back, working for the most dangerous man they'd ever known. While she and Joey were dating, Seth had introduced him to their parents' longtime friend. Joey promised Seth big-time rewards for the connection, but the only reward he'd given was a warning to Tabitha that if she didn't play ball, he'd give the cops something incriminating on Seth. He was on his second strike and still on probation. Any mark against him at this point would be bad. Worse than bad.
“Maybe you should let me take my chances.” Seth had done a lot of growing up over the past six months. A year ago, he wouldn't have cared what Tabitha had to do to get him out of a bind.
“And let you go to prison? Seth, if they find anything to charge you with, you won't be spending a few months in the Ada County Jail. There will be federal charges.”
“Hey, at least I'd get three squares a day.” She glared at his joking tone. “Seriously, this is something you should think about. I don't want you to have to deal with Joey and his bullshit. You need a clean break, Tabs.”
She'd been thinking about it. For weeks. How many times had she looked at the FBI's phone number, her fingers hovering over the keypad of her phone? Searched the Boise PD's Bandit anti-narcotics web page? Sat in the freaking parking lot of the U.S. Marshals Service's home base? She'd thought about it and thought about it until her freaking brain throbbed from all of the thinking. And now, she didn't just have Seth to worry about, but Damien as well.
For shit's sake, Tabitha. What more can you do to screw up your life?
Chapter Twelve
After talking to Gates and getting the lowdown on Tabitha's visit to the courthouse, Damien decided it would be best to give her a little space. But now that Friday night had rolled around once again, he found himself bouncing back and forth between excitement and worry. A combination he rarely felt and didn't like at all.
He'd never been so anxious to see someone, and at the same time worried over what would happen when he did. As he unloaded the heavy suitcase full of Stardust and his duffel from the trunk of his Shelby, he thought about putting a phone call in to Dr. Meyers. Because if ever he needed his head shrunk, it was right fucking now.
As he hauled his stuff through the lobby, a scowl curled his lips as he recognized the guy who worked nights—and not Tabitha—at the front desk.
“She's off tonight.”
Damien checked the guy's name tag—Dave—as he typed something on the keyboard. “Who?”
Dave gave him a wry smile. “Tabitha. I got the feeling that I wasn't who you were expecting to see behind the desk.”
Jesus, was it that obvious? Damien spent his life fooling hardened criminals into believing that he was one of them and he couldn't even hide his infatuation from an innocent desk clerk? He might as well turn in his badge now.
“But don't worry. She told me you'd be in tonight and I've got your room all ready to go. Is your crew working on the roof over at the new Village complex in Meridian?”
Damien wasn't at all familiar with the local landmarks or neighboring cities, though he'd heard some talk in passing about this place or that. It didn't matter where he said he worked as long as he kept up the pretense that he worked for a roofing company and left it at that. “Uh, yeah. We'll be on and off the project for at least another month or so.”
Dave continued to make small talk, but Damien couldn't manage more than a grunt or two in response. His brain was buzzing, too full of Tabitha. Where was she? What was she doing? Had she discovered what he was really doing by working for Joey?
“Here's your key,” Dave said, sliding the little paper envelope closer to Damien's hand. How long had he been zoned out?
Real smooth
. “Can I help you with anything else this evening?”
Dave's flirty smile didn't go unnoticed. Maybe he could coax some information about Tabitha out of the über-friendly front-desk clerk.
Good God. He might as well be some middle school kid passing notes in class.
Did Tabitha talk about me at lunch today? What did she say? Also if she likes me, check this box
. Can you say loser? “No, thanks. I'm good.”
“Okay, well, don't hesitate to call if you need anything!”
He held up a hand in acknowledgment as he walked away from the front desk. What he needed was a fucking lobotomy to get Tabitha out of his head. Maybe Dave could grab a butter knife from the breakfast room and give him a hand with that.
The night dragged by on broken legs, painfully slow and debilitating. Damien played the part of amateur drug peddler, doling out the packages to customers based on weight, cost, and the individual dealer's ability to move product. He made small talk when he could, manipulated each and every person through the door into offering up some piece of information, no matter how small. It didn't get him any closer to Lightfoot, unfortunately, but Boise PD and the Idaho State Police would have a heyday when he wrapped up his investigation.
At the back of his mind, though, he fixated on a singular thought: Tabitha and what he could do to get her to the hotel ASAP. A week apart had been torture. True, their current circumstances were less than conventional, and didn't he just feel like a king-size dick for it, too. Their lunch date hardly made up for the fact that he'd thrown himself at her not once, but twice. And truth be told, he could think of nothing more than doing it again. He'd order her to get naked before he laid her out on the bed and enjoyed her in the way he'd been dying to, coaxing those sweet sounds from her once again.
Christ. If he'd thought his head was fucked up before this gig, it was nothing compared to the tangled state it was in now.
Damien's last customer had left fifteen minutes ago and he wasn't expecting anyone else until tomorrow night. A muffled curse escaped his lips as he snatched up his cell and dialed the number he'd retrieved from Tabitha's phone the previous week.
“'Lo?” Tabitha's sleepy voice answered, and the husky timbre raced across Damien's skin in a shiver.
“I want to see you.” No use exchanging pleasantries—or giving his name, apparently—at this point. He wanted her here. Now. Ten minutes ago. “Get in your car and get over here.”
Silence answered him and Damien's heart pounded in his chest. Why couldn't he just quit being a demanding dickhead for long enough to ask her nicely?
Way to fuck up the only thing in your life you
don't
want to ruin. Idiot
.
Tabitha's voice was like a caress when she answered, “Give me ten minutes.”
“Hurry.”
He disconnected the call and tossed his phone onto the bed.
The next ten minutes might as well have been ten years as he waited for Tabitha to show up. He'd considered running down to the lobby and buying a package of condoms from the hotel store. He needed to fuck like he needed food to live. But the front-desk guy already seemed to know that something was going on between him and Tabitha. It wouldn't be a good idea to flaunt his need of a booty call in front of her coworker. He wasn't interested in disrespecting her in any way. And really, it was a little presumptuous on his part to assume that's where the night would lead. Sure, they'd fooled around, but that didn't guarantee a repeat, no matter how badly Damien wanted that to happen. He needed to calm the fuck down and let things unfold. Naturally. It was just a sign of how badly he wanted her that he felt like he needed to rush out and buy a case of Trojans. Overeager much?
The minutes continued to tick by at a slog. What if she'd fallen back to sleep after his call? For all he knew, she'd been talking in her sleep, agreeing to his ridiculous command. Wound tight as a fucking spring, it wouldn't take much to send Damien rocketing into the stratosphere. His skin clung to his frame, too goddamned tight, and his breath sawed in and out of his chest as though he'd been running circles around the hotel parking lot.
A derisive snort sliced through the quiet. He was keeping his cool like a boss.
When a soft knock came at the door moments later, his heart seized up in his rib cage before beating out a furious rhythm that sent the blood zinging through his veins. He stalked across the room with all of the collected calm of a disaster movie victim fleeing from a comet hurtling toward Earth, and threw open the door.
Jesus Christ, every time he laid eyes on her, she seemed more beautiful.
Her blue eyes glistened, still a little sleepy, and her short, blond hair was tousled in a way that made her look as though she'd just been fucked. Which, strangely enough, turned him on while simultaneously causing a pang of jealousy to flare in his chest. On the right side of her nose, a tiny jewel twinkled. He'd never noticed the piercing before; she obviously didn't wear it to work. Tight, black leggings hugged her legs, leaving nothing to the imagination, and a worn, too-small Soundgarden-concert tee barely skimmed her waist along with a short, black leather jacket. A pair of fawn-colored sheepskin boots rounded out her outfit, and she'd never looked hotter. Just the sight of her made him hard.
“Hi.”
His eyes dipped to where the cropped top of her shirt revealed her belly button, and Damien couldn't form a coherent response to save his life. He'd never wanted a woman the way he wanted Tabitha, and that mindless need was slowly ripping his composure to shreds.
With a mechanical step to the right he opened a path for her to come in. She placed a hand on her hip, cocking it to one side and said, “Should I be expecting anyone else to stop by tonight?”
“No.” The word worked its way up his throat, grating on his vocal cords like gravel. “Worried I might misbehave?”
A sweet smile curved her lips. “Maybe a little.”
He couldn't help his own answering grin. “Get in this room. Now.”
 
 
When Damien gave her a command, Tabitha found herself helpless to deny him. A man she'd once sworn she'd keep her distance from, now her body responded to the gruff timbre of his voice, drawn to his side like lapping ocean waves are drawn to the shore. She'd been a wreck all week. Thinking about Damien. Worrying. Wondering where he was. What he was doing. Who he was with . . . A week of sleepless nights had her collapsing into her bed, exhausted, only to be woken by his call. The gruffness of his voice sparked her to life with the first word he'd spoken, and the decision to throw on a pair of boots and get in her car was one of the easiest of her entire life.
His gaze devoured her as she stepped into the room, the heat in those golden-brown eyes enough to make her sweat. Any words she might have wanted to say lodged themselves in her throat, but really, was it necessary to say anything? She knew why he'd called her and why she agreed to come.
As she walked to within touching distance of him, Damien reached out and wrapped his large hand around her waist. A low thrum of desire settled in her abdomen and Tabitha knew that if he were to slide his fingers between her thighs, he'd find her wet and more than ready for him. She was completely shameless in wanting him like she did. The tension of his arm stopped Tabitha dead in her tracks, and a low groan rumbled in Damien's chest. His palm curved a path over her hip and settled on her ass. “What are you wearing under these pants?” he asked low in her ear.
She looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes and murmured, “Nothing.”
His free hand settled on her opposite hip and he took a step to his right so that he stood fully in front of her. Lord have mercy, he towered over her, his heavily muscled frame overwhelming and magnificent. Tabitha shivered as he traced a path up her torso, his fingers skimming the curve of her breast. “And under this shirt?”
Shameless. “Nothing.”
“Were you naked under the covers when I called?”
Tabitha shuddered at his words, loving the game he played. No man had ever talked to her this way before, and it gave her permission to be as brazen as she dared. “Yes.” Up and down, up and down, his fingers brushed her torso beneath her jacket, teasing the swell of her breast until her nipples hardened and she ached for him to touch her there.
Damien's body went rigid with each question asked, a slight tremor transferring through his touch into her skin. His barely veiled restraint caused Tabitha's breath to race in her chest, and with every intake of breath, her breasts rubbed torturously against the rippled muscle of his torso. If he didn't do something—
anything
—soon, she'd go out of her mind!
As if he sensed the maddening desire building up inside of her like carbonation under pressure, Damien took a step back and regarded her, his gaze raking over her with a hunger that sent her heart beating madly. With an arm's length between them now, Tabitha's body chilled in the absence of his touch. She moved to close the distance and he said, firm, “Stay where you are.”
Under his spell, she had no choice but to do as he told her.
For a moment he just looked at her. Her skin tingled with his appraisal, flushed with heat as though his hands were still on her. With a slow breath, Damien reached out, took the strands of her hair between his fingers. “Your hair is like silk.”
The wonder in his tone caused Tabitha's chest to swell with emotion. Such a contrast to his hard, commanding presence. He let the strands fall through his fingers and cupped her face in his palm before tracing the shell of her ear. A featherlight caress brought chills to the surface of Tabitha's skin as he trailed his fingers past her earlobe and down the column of her throat, skirting the neckline of her T-shirt.
Anticipation coiled in her stomach as every nerve ending in her body grew hypersensitive. The quiet in the room was deafening, the only sound that of their quickened breaths. “Look at me.”
She brought her eyes to his and fought the urge to drop her gaze. Was this how prey felt in the clutches of a powerful predator? Or perhaps a lowly wolf in the presence of its alpha? He reached beneath her jacket and with the pad of his thumb circled one nipple. Tabitha's lips parted on a sharp intake of breath, the sensation so intense despite the thin layer of cotton fabric that separated her skin from his.
With his left hand, he cupped the back of her neck, as if concerned she might suddenly look away. Or bolt. He held her fast, slowly circling her nipple as he studied her reaction with an intensity that caused Tabitha's breath to come in desperate little pants that ended on a quiet whimper. She could come like this. With nothing more than his eyes on her and his thumb teasing her nipple to a diamond-hard peak.
“Does that feel good?”
He had to have known that he was driving her crazy. But it was part of his game, wasn't it? The control he needed to exercise and the commands that Tabitha needed desperately to obey. “Yes.” The word burst from her lips in a low moan and Damien's nostrils flared as his grip on her neck tightened and his thumb brushed along her jawline.
“Tell me.”
“It feels so good,” she said between pants of breath.
An unexpected sting of pleasure coursed through her body as he pinched the pearled peak through her shirt. “And that?”
“Yes,” she moaned. “Do it again.”
Damien crushed her to him in a searing kiss. Tabitha's body melted against his as he cupped her ass in his hands and lifted her up to meet his height. She kicked the boots from her feet as she shucked her jacket and wrapped her legs around his waist. He thrust up as he pushed down on her hips, forcing the thick length of his erection against her barely clothed and aching sex.
BOOK: One Touch More
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