The Billionaire's Intern - Part 3. Maisey Yates
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the memory of how soft she had been beneath his fingers. The memory of how she’d touched him in the shower. How tender she had been. The way she’d cared for him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done that.
And he didn’t deserve to lust after her, given the nature of the touching. The fact that she’d practically been bathing him as if he were a mental patient, after he’d nearly… He had hurt her. And whether it had been intentional or not didn’t change the fact that it happened.
Didn’t change the fact that he had no right to lust after her. Or to say what he was about to say.
Knowing he didn’t have the right didn’t change what he was going to do. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, if his time on the island had taught them anything, it was that he was capable of doing a whole host of things most men would never dream of.
That reality haunted his dreams. And there was no altering it. All things considered, he didn’t see why he shouldn’t use it to his advantage.
He’d made a decision last night. Lying there, with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, with an erection so hard it ached, and no relief on the horizon. There was no redemption for him. But there was Addison. And he wanted her, whether he should or not.
And he was determined to have her.
“Good afternoon, Addison. Sleep well?”
Addison looked up from her position at the desk, one eyebrow raised, the corners of her lush lips turned down. “Go to hell, Logan.”
“Been there, got the commemorative parasite. Thankfully it was curable.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you jovial? And joking about tapeworms? This is unlike you. And particularly given last night…”
“I made a decision.”
“I hope it has something to do with the hardware for the brownstones. Because Steve has been calling me nonstop about it.”
“It has nothing to do with hardware. I’m sure you find that devastating.” He ignored the guilt that was already starting to gnaw at his gut.
“Not half as devastating as Steve will find it.”
“Do you still want to play with me, princess?” He already had a spot in hell reserved just for him. Right now he was sure the fires were being stoked hotter.
She blinked rapidly. “What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. You said you were stronger than I thought you were. Prove it to me.”
His words barely made a ripple on the calm surface that was Addison Treffen. And he found that irritating. “And why are you suddenly so eager to allow me to prove it? I thought you said you weren’t going to touch me.”
“Well, I realized something,” he said, pausing and running the tip of his fingers across the puncture wound left behind on his palm. “I already have. So why bother resisting? I didn’t want to touch you because I didn’t want to hurt you. Because I prize my control over everything else, and that means I haven’t touched any women since my return from the island. But I touched you. And it’s too late to take it back.”
She looked down, her focus very carefully not on him. “What exactly are you asking for? Because I feel like I’ve already made an idiot out of myself in front of you and I don’t really want to do it again.”
“Until you confess to killing someone with your bare hands, I think we can safely say I have more to lose than you do. If you decide to run out of the hotel screaming, it isn’t like I can easily chase you. And you have a direct line to the press. Just think of the damage you can do to me. Just think of all the heat it would take off the Treffen family. I’m the one with the most to lose here, Addison. And I’m still asking for this.”
“But you aren’t asking for it,” she said, her tone raw. “I feel you’re just going to make me say it again, and then you’re going to reject me.”
Heat burned in his stomach, flames licking down south, pooling in his groin. He leaned in, breathing in her scent, that fresh, rain-washed smell. She was too good for him. Too bright, too innocent no matter how strong she seemed to think she was.
But he was not a man of honor. He never had been.
Before the island, he’d been at best a harmless philanderer, at worst, irresponsible on a catastrophic scale. The kind of man who put others in harm’s way simply because he failed to think. And after the island? Well, some might say he was a murderer.
All things considered, the fact that he’d ever tried to resist her was almost laughable.
He reached out, cupping her chin with his hand. Her blue eyes went wide. Looking at her, the innocence there, was almost painful. Because he knew that just touching her was going to corrupt that.
It’s too late. You’ve already done it. You might as well go all the way.
“I don’t want to reject you, Addison. I want to keep you. I want to strip off all your clothes, push you against the wall. Bury myself in you. Wanting you like this, it’s like drowning.” He leaned in another fraction, his lips only a whisper from hers. “And I know what that feels like. To be trapped beneath the surface of the water, lungs burning. That’s what this has been like.” He allowed himself a moment to run the tip of his thumb over her cheek, before dropping his hands to his side again. “No good man could resist this. And I am not a good man. You deserve better.”
He moved away from her, knowing that if he didn’t put some distance between them he wouldn’t wait for her permission.
“Do I?” she asked, her voice unsteady. “My father was shot and killed in front of me. And he was an evil, horrible man. And…and I feel like I might be drowning too. Like I’m caught in the waves and I don’t know if I’m swimming deeper beneath the water or if I’m getting closer to the surface. I don’t know if I’m getting closer to salvation or death. I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel,” she said, tears glittering in her blue eyes. “How can I be sad that he’s dead, Logan? He was a bad person. And I knew it. I always knew it. But he was my father. And I’m…I’m so sad he was never the father I wished he was. I was never able to have the relationship with him that I wanted, and it’s because everything he was was a lie. I’ll never have that father. That fantasy is dead and over along with him. And I shouldn’t cry. Not for him. Not when he hurt Austin’s fiancée, my mother, countless women. I shouldn’t be sad. But I am and it doesn’t make any sense!”
Her shoulders shook and she took a deep breath, her expression so lost and desolate he felt it, deep inside him. She was adrift, and didn’t he know that feeling.
If he was another man, a better man, he would pull her into his arms and hold her. But he wasn’t another man, or a better one. He was just him. And it was probably better for her if he didn’t try to comfort her. He wasn’t qualified.
She was better off if he didn’t touch her.
Brilliant. Since it’s too late.
Yeah, well, fair point. Still, he stood rooted to the spot with his arms pinned at his sides. Because he’d forgotten this. This human connection thing.
Or maybe he’d never had it, and before he’d never noticed the absence because he’d never stopped to look at other people. He’d touch them, take what he wanted, and moved on. He was starting to wonder if he’d always been a monster. And it had simply been the island that brought it out. That had made him face it.
Maybe there had never been more in him. Maybe this was all he was.
He watched her shiver, shake apart from the inside out. Holding herself because he was too damn broken to go over and do it for her. Because it was best if she never thought she could count on that from him.
It would be best if she never counted on anything from him.
“If it helps,”