The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 126

Chapter 63: Exposed and Desired-2

But then she nodded. Once.

And followed.

Her heart was pounding, her pulse fluttering beneath her skin-like a bird trapped, desperate to break free. Every step toward the dock felt heavier, charged. Like “slow and gentle” hadn’t just been a promise.

It had been a warning.

Damien guided her toward the dock where three jet skis waited, engines rumbling softly against the gentle tide.

Harper didn’t hesitate. With a practiced flick, she slipped off her button-down and shimmied out of her shorts, revealing the full curve-hugging glory of that bikini. She looked effortlessly confident, sun-kissed, and ready for her magazine cover moment. Then she tossed on a life jacket and tied her hair tighter like a woman on a mission.

Ashcroft strolled up beside her, all lazy charm and ease, then shrugged off his short-sleeved

floral shirt in one smooth motion-like he’d done it a thousand times in front of an audience.

Holy hell.

Even Maya’s mouth parted slightly.

His torso was a work of art-defined pecs, a six-pack that glistened under the sun, and a full sleeve tattoo on his right arm, intricate and dark, curling from his shoulder down to his wrist. His skin gleamed bronze and taut, muscles flexing with every breath like he’d just stepped out of a photoshoot.

Harper let out a dramatic gasp. “Holy hell! Sexy Billionaire just entered the group!” She gave him a playful once-over. “If you weren’t the boss’s best friend-and practically my future honorary cousin-I’d be drooling right now.”

Ashcroft flashed a shameless grin. “Three workouts a week, sweetheart. Gotta maintain the

“1

merchandise.” He tossed her a wink. “So go ahead, Ms. Lin-drool all you want. I live to serve.

Harper fanned herself, then burst out laughing.

Then Damien moved.

He said nothing-just unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off.

13

hapter pet Exposed and Despril 2

And the air shifted.

Maya’s breath caught.

Damien didn’t just look good-he looked unreal.

Claim

His chest was broad and solid, his muscles cut so clean and precise it was like someone had sculpted him. His abs weren’t just defined-they were an eight-pack, ridged and hard, glistening with a faint sheen of sweat and salt.

The V-line. God.

It disappeared into his low-slung swim shorts and Maya had to snap her gaze upward before her thoughts got completely hijacked.

No tattoos. No distractions.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify