The Billionaire's Intern (Maya Thompson) novel Chapter 21

The silence inside the car had been louder than any noise.

It clung to her skin long after they were dropped off at the hospital – the scent of expensive leather, the low hum of the engine, and most of all… him.

Damien Blackwood.

She’d been close to him. Too close.

Her skin still burned. Every nerve lit up like a fuse had been sparked and then left to smolder.

He hadn’t even looked at her-not really. Just a curt nod. A single word: “Morning.”

Low and smooth, like gravel wrapped in silk. Lethal and devastating.

But that brief contact?

That accidental graze of his thigh against hers, the heat of his body seeping through their clothes, the faintest brush of her shoulder against his chest-

It had sent something wild and shameful racing through her blood.

A jolt. A rush. A craving.

She hated herself for noticing.

She hated even more how much her body remembered.

She shouldn’t feel like this.

Not for a man like him.

Not when her baby brother sat just inches away.

Not when she was supposed to be grateful for a ride – not aching for the ghost of another brush,

the echo of his scent, the tension that crackled like fire beneath her skin.

It had been Jamie’s fault, really. He’d climbed halfway out, then shoved the door shut too quickly – pulling her right into Damien.

Shoulder to chest. Thigh to thigh.

A split second.

A half-breath.

…

ED

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Chapter To Close Enough to Bura 1

But her body went still, too aware of everything.

His scent was intoxicating – not cologne, not really. Just something clean and masculine and

sharp, like leather and midnight and power.

Her cheek had nearly brushed his chest. Her knee had pressed to his.

And his body?

Stone still.

Except for one small thing.

His breath.

It hitched.

Just once. Barely audible.

But enough to make her pulse race with something dark and forbidden.

She’d pulled away fast, cheeks burning, heart slamming against her ribs like a guilty secret.

And even after she’d settled, even after Jamie’s voice filled the space again, her hands refused to unclench. Her thighs were trembling and her chest rose too quickly.

And Damien hadn’t said a word.

But she’d felt it. That spark.

Beckett.

Holding a takeout bag. A rose.

She groaned inwardly. Her stomach twisted. Heat crawled up her spine – but not the good kind.

And then she’d felt Damien beside her.

Something shifted.

Not visibly. But viscerally.

The air turned sharper. The space between them changed.

He hadn’t moved, but his energy had. It coiled tight, crackling just beneath the surface.

When James asked, “Boyfriend?” with that too-smooth tone, her breath caught.

“No!” she’d blurted-too fast, too sharp-but Jamie jumped in with his usual brutal honesty.

“Pfft! He wishes! May already turned him down like, a thousand times. He’s weird.”

“Jamie-” she hissed, but it was too late.

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