One Touch More by Mandy Baxter

bristled at the contact. After one encounter, her body had been fine-tuned to Damien’s touch.
    She was officially ruined.

Chapter Eight
    Damien shoved open the window and the heavy curtains billowed with the influx of cool air. The wind had picked up and the room filled with the crisp scent of early snow. Clean and sweet. Just like Tabitha.
    The weekend had officially come to a close. The last of Cavello’s drugs were sold and that left Damien with nothing but his tortured thoughts to keep him company. Oh, and the raging hard-on that had yet to go the fuck away. A chill brought goose bumps to the surface of his skin, but aside from the mild discomfort, the drop in temperature did nothing to cool his lust. He grumbled a curse under his breath and toed off his boots. Stripped off his shirt. Shucked his jeans and underwear. He glared down at his erection and stalked toward the bathroom. Instead of swiveling the shower knob to hot, he left the water cold and stepped directly under the spray. A sharp intake of air lodged in his chest, but he refused to turn up the heat or step away from the cold stream of water.
    And still, the stiff bastard between his legs stuck around to taunt him.
    Icy rivulets of water sluiced down his body and Damien’s muscles tensed. His nipples tightened and he found the sensation pleasurable rather than uncomfortable. What would it feel like to have Tabitha’s teeth graze his nipples? Maybe even the head of his cock? Nothing short of a bullet through the heart was going to calm him down at this point. His senses were still awash with her: her scent, the softness of her skin, the sound of her impassioned cries in his ears.
    Damien reached down and took the heavy length of his erection in his hand. His thumb brushed the engorged and sensitive head and he shuddered, sending droplets of water rolling down his abs and thighs. He stroked down to the base and back up, imagining that he was pumping into her and not his own goddamned hand. A haze of want clouded his thoughts and Damien thrust again, his pace increasing as he worked his fist over his erection. He braced his arm against the shower wall, a low moan vibrating through him as he came in violent spasms that brought him to one knee.
    Christ. A couple of pumps and he’d come all over the fucking shower. Pathetic.
    Pushing himself to stand, Damien reached back and turned the knob to the left. The water began to warm and some of the tension left his body, though his legs were still weak and felt like cooked noodles. Steam billowed around him, matching the fog that clouded his thoughts. Tabitha had blindsided him. An unexpected complication that he could never have planned for. He’d never wanted any woman with the sort of desperate, primal need that had driven him to behave so rashly with her. With a groan, Damien knocked his forehead against the wall. He’d treated her with so little respect, bending her over the bed without so much as an attempt at seduction.
    But she’d come so easily for him. Shattered under his touch like myriad shards of glass. She’d wanted him, too. He hadn’t imagined her eager response.
    Damien finished up his shower and dried off, wrapping the towel around his waist as he left the bathroom. The in-room phone rang, a loud digital trill that set him instantly on edge. No one should be calling the room. Cavello had his burner number and Gates knew to keep his distance when Damien was undercover. He lifted the receiver from the cradle and took a deep breath before bringing it up to his ear. “Yeah?”
    â€œDid you order a wakeup call for the morning?”
    Damien let out a slow breath as he recognized Bill Crawford’s voice on the other end of the line. His SOG supervisor rarely called when he was undercover, but if he needed to reach out, they had ways of getting around suspicious eavesdroppers. “No, thanks, I’ve got an alarm set,” he replied, letting the other