The Intern: An MM Office Romance

by Akeroyd , Serena

  But when we were in the UK, when we were in London, I’d work harder to bring him out of his shell.

  And if that didn’t work, then, God help me, I had no idea what to do.

  “I’ll bring you some coffee,” I told him, not mentioning that I’d also bring him a sandwich.

  He blinked at me. “Why are you being so kind to me? I-I cheated on you.”

  My eyes flared wide at that, and I reached up to pinch the bridge of my nose. The desire to shake him hit me again, but Christ... he didn’t need me to do that, he just needed me to understand.

  Why did I feel like I was the worst person in the world to be standing here, understanding him?

  I was losing him. Inch by inch, he was fading before me, and if I didn’t stop it soon, it would be too late. Maybe even the trip to the UK would be too late.

  So, I forgot about the coffee, forgot about the sandwich I’d intended on encouraging him to eat, and instead, I grabbed his hand and tucked it in mine before I led him to the bedroom.

  I felt his tension grow with each step that took us nearer to the bed, but I didn’t acknowledge it, just climbed onto the mattress and settled down there. With our fingers still entwined, and with him not bothering to pull them apart, he followed me. Warily, but he was there, at least.

  With a sigh, I rolled onto my side and encouraged him to do the same. Now tucked against me, I murmured, “Micah, many things happened that day, but you cheating on me wasn’t one of them. You were forced. You were drugged. Your will was snatched from you. If I have to tell you that a thousand times, I will.” I kissed the crown of his head. “I will.”

  And though it wasn’t the vow I wanted to tell him, it was all I knew he could handle right now.

  It seemed to work.

  He relaxed in my hold, and for the first time since the rape, he rested. Actually rested. I did too. It might not have been dream-free, and the guilt was still there, but it was the best rest I’d had in a long time.

  That, for the moment, was all I could ask for.

  Twenty-Seven

  Micah

  With a frown, I watched as my cum drifted in lazy circles down the drain amid the suds from my shampoo. Now that was done, I reached for my cock and scrubbed it hard with the sponge, then rinsed. I did so three times, to the point where it was stinging with how briskly I’d touched it, but only then did it feel clean enough.

  It was stupid to feel dirty when I’d wasted so much soap on it in the weeks since the attack, but no matter what I did, even when I’d made it bleed a few days back, it still felt soiled.

  That pretty much summed up how I felt too.

  Dirty.

  Used.

  The adjectives had me nipping my bottom lip to the point where it stung, and I raised my face to the water, letting it drown me for a second before I heard Devlin call out, “Micah?”

  “Yeah?”

  I saw him hovering in the doorway, but he didn’t come in. Didn’t even look.

  Did I repulse him now?

  I wasn’t sure how I couldn’t, but he seemed to have those same starry eyes when he looked at me. Even if it was dampened with regret and guilt.

  That was, I knew, my biggest fear.

  That he was only putting up with me because of what had happened, but then, I’d remember I was being stupid. No CEO instigated what Devlin had for a man he didn’t give a shit about.

  I had to take comfort in that.

  Harried, he called out, “You’re going to need to hurry it along. We have to get to the airport soon.”

  The situation I found myself in was stressful, emotional warfare wasn’t my strong point, but I had to admit—Devlin before a flight was amusing. Enough to make me smile as I finished cleaning up.

  I was the one with claustrophobia, but he was the one who was so anal with the details it was a joke.

  We had four hours until the flight to London, and you’d think we were running late. I could practically feel the stress throbbing from him.

  Because he’d been so patient with me, I tried to be the same with him, even if he’d reminded me twelve times so far that we were flying today.

  I wasn’t sure if he thought the drugs had addled my brain or not, but I wasn’t that nuts that I’d forget I was flying into Heathrow for the first time in my life.

  Visits to Europe had been frequent in my childhood, but mostly, we’d returned to visit family in Sweden, and then had gone down to Germany or France, never Britain.

  I was looking forward to it, and I was pretty sure that during this horrendous waiting period where leaving depended on the cops approving our plans, it had been the only thing getting me through.

  Which was crazy, really.

  I hadn’t had to do much other than allow for the passage of time to tick as it did without anyone’s interference. Devlin did the rest. Well, apart from the conversation I’d had with my dean to delay my MBA studies.

  That had been easier than I thought, but news had spread around New York about what I’d gone through. It was one of the reasons why I didn’t want to leave the apartment. I knew exactly what they’d be thinking.

  How could a woman rape a man?

  Maybe, once upon a time, I might have thought the same thing...

  Because Devlin was stressed, I took a further moment to rinse off before I hurried through getting ready.

  The least he deserved for the past weeks of caring for me was that I didn’t stress him out pre-flight.

  He’d never said if he was nervous about flying or if it was just a quirk of his, and I hadn’t asked.

  It hit me then that I should have asked.

  Brow furrowed as I dragged on my jeans, sneakers, and a baggy jersey sweater that would be comfortable for the flight, I moved out of the bathroom the second I was ready.

  Staring around the bedroom that had become a second home to me, I packed up the last few things I needed while I was onboard, like my USB wires and my iPad, and set everything in the vanity case Devlin had bought me.

  He’d thought of everything. Hadn’t even delegated it to Lizzie, because one night in bed, I’d watched him grumbling over his computer as he looked at luggage.

  I’d never imagined it was for me, but being presented with cases worth fifteen grand for a quick trip across the pond had definitely come as a surprise.

  Even if, I wasn’t ashamed to admit, it was nice to be carrying Louis Vuitton once more.

  Maybe I shouldn’t let him buy me stuff, but it wasn’t as if he’d asked for permission. Devlin didn’t do things like that. He came to a decision then expected everyone to follow through with it.

  In this, I was more than okay with him taking charge.

  I didn’t think I would be okay with that forever, because I wasn’t the kind of guy who always said yes to appease people—I wouldn’t be with Devlin if that were the way of it—but for now, I liked that he was handling everything.

  I needed that.

  Needed him.

  With my small case in hand, I headed into the front hall and placed it with the other luggage. Then, wandering toward the kitchen, I poured myself a bowl of cereal that I quickly ate as I sought Devlin out.

  Not unsurprisingly, he was on his computer, scowling at something or other, and unaware that I was watching him.

  Did he realize that he’d been my rock?

  I hoped he did.

  Those first few days, there’d been a kind of internal wail in my head, one that I couldn’t escape. It made me want to tear through my skin, to get rid of the agony that was behind it, but how could I?

  She hadn’t hurt me.

  Physically, I was fine. It was why I was struggling with mirrors right now. I looked like Micah—I just didn’t feel like him.

  “Thought we were in a hurry,” I told him softly as I spooned up Cheerios.

  “We are.” He cast me a look, pinpointing me exactly which let me know he’d been aware of me the whole time. I hadn’t hovered in the doorway, had moved deeper into the
study, toward the back wall of David Hockney photos he had hanging there.

  “Why are you so anal about flying anyway?”

  He shrugged. “Force of habit. Plus, I like the lounges.”

  “You do?” I frowned. “Really?”

  “I have good memories of traveling with Mother and Uncle Forrester. He used to insist we be punctual because she’d take forever otherwise.” His mouth twisted, and I knew he was about to change the subject. “You didn’t get me any?” he complained, pointing at my bowl of cereal.

  My lips twitched. “Don’t lie. You already ate.”

  A twinkle gleamed in his eyes. “I’ll never say no to cereal.”

  “I’ll bet that’s a secret you’ll take to your grave. The mighty Devlin Astley eats Honey Nut Cheerios.”

  “The world can be shocked and awed another time,” he said dryly, before his computer started humming then abruptly turned quiet.

  Moving around his desk, he started out of the office, and retreated to the kitchen where he poured himself a bowl twice the size of mine and proceeded to eat it.

  “I think that’s a mixing bowl.”

  He shook his head. “It’s my cereal bowl.”

  I had to laugh, watching him as he hummed, wondering how I hadn’t figured out that all the cereal in the cupboards was for him. Not me. I’d just never thought Devlin would like the stuff.

  With a body like his, he couldn’t exactly have a sweet tooth.

  I liked that I was wrong.

  There was still so much to learn about each other, but things like these were painless, but a joy to store away.

  “Are you ready for the flight?” he asked, his gaze on the cereal.

  “I’m ready to be in the UK,” I corrected.

  “You are? You’re excited to visit?”

  “You know I am,” I told him softly. “But mostly, I’m just ready to be away from here.” I heaved a sigh. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough for these past couple of weeks, Devlin.”

  “You don’t have to,” he muttered gruffly, putting his bowl on the counter in front of him as he stared at me with eyes that I knew held as many battered emotions as mine.

  He was going through a war of his own—I hated that, even if there wasn’t much I could do to resolve it.

  “Yeah, I do.” Unable to stop myself, I moved over to him, and slid my hand behind his neck. “When someone sticks by you, you should never take that for granted. Especially when your whole family has dropped you—I know that nothing can ever be taken as read.”

  I watched as grooves furrowed into his forehead, before he murmured, “You know the guilt I feel is real, Micah.”

  “I do. It’s tangible,” I whispered gruffly.

  “But the worst thing about the whole situation is seeing you spiral down and not being able to help, and knowing that I’m partly to blame.

  “I have the side of me who sees that, and who wants to help. Then, I have this other side of me, the one who stares at you and sighs and turns into a vapid fan boy because you’re so pretty, who just wants to hold you and never let go—”

  My tongue felt too big for my mouth as I quickly inserted, “I like the sound of that.”

  He shook his head. “You think you want that, but you don’t. I’m trying not to overshadow you, trying not to cling—and all of those things are very unusual. I’ve never given a fuck before.” His jaw clenched. “Never wanted to. Everything about you makes me feel like I’m living on a live wire. You’re young. You must want to have fun, and I’m not exactly that.

  “I’m pretty sure you’ve always got one foot out of the bloody door, and I know that’s to be accepted in your situation—”

  I knew my eyes were on stalks because it was to be ‘accepted’ that I’d have one foot out of the door?

  Frowning at him, uncertain why he’d think that, when I was the one who should be feeling that way, I pushed myself into him, not stopping until I was flush against him and he had no choice but to hold me.

  When his hands were pressed flat to my back, only then did I sigh, and whisper, “This is the only place in the world I feel safe right now. If you think I’m going anywhere, then you’re the crazy one. Not me.”

  His body practically throbbed with tension, but he released a sharp breath that whistled past my ear. “We’ll get through this. Won’t we?”

  I didn’t have an answer to that.

  How could I?

  I was hoping I’d feel better with a change of scene, was hoping that a different take on things, a trip to somewhere I’d always wanted to visit but hadn’t been able to go would improve my frame of my mind.

  I wasn’t in the habit of making false promises, so I just told him, “I don’t want to be anywhere else but here. Even though I’m kind of stoked about London, I couldn’t do it by myself. If I didn’t have you, I really would lose my mind, Devlin. You’re the only thing keeping me hanging on.”

  “So both of us are worried about the other walking out?”

  “Essentially,” I mumbled.

  “Let’s focus on other things then, hmm?” His voice sounded different. Sure. Confident. Devlin, the businessman. Not, what had he called himself? The fan boy.

  I wasn’t sure how he could still feel that way, but I was grateful for it.

  “Yeah,” I confirmed.

  His hands moved to mine as he pulled back, and he squeezed them before rumbling, “Whatever happens, I’ll get justice for you, Micah.”

  For the first time, my smile felt genuine. “I never doubted that you would.”

  A relieved sigh escaped him, and he beamed a genuine smile back at me. “Okay, then it’s time I showed you England’s green and pleasant land.”

  I arched a brow at him. “Is that a quote?”

  “From a song.” He wafted a hand. “Jerusalem. Never mind.”

  “There’s a song called Jerusalem about the UK?”

  His nose crinkled. “We’re British. We used to think the world revolved around us.”

  “Apparently,” I said dryly, then I reached up and gave him a quick kiss. One that encompassed my gratitude and the need I had for him. “But if you think I’m leaving for the airport four hours ahead of schedule, you’re crazy.”

  His grin was sheepish. “What do you think about leaving three hours ahead instead?”

  Twenty-Eight

  Devlin

  London, UK

  Yawning, I got out of the car, shuffled to the side, and stretched as I waited for the driver to grab our bags and for Micah to climb out behind me.

  Jet lag didn’t usually affect me, but the past few weeks had been more wearisome than I could have expected, seeing as I hadn’t been actively working at the company.

  But dealing with the investigation, handling the bullshit with the press, then finally learning that the bitch had been indicted on a slew of charges, all of it took its toll.

  On Micah especially.

  For myself, I’d been scared that one of the Rhodes’ family would somehow make the evidence disappear. Short of setting an armed guard on the NYPD’s evidence locker, there was nothing I could do aside from wait for the blood tests that came back loaded with Rohypnol and Viagra, and make a thousand copies of the footage of her actually accosting Micah in his cubicle.

  I never wanted to see that footage, but knew it might be required when the court case came around.

  It was no wonder Micah was withdrawn and quiet. For three weeks, I’d lived with his ghost, and when Rhode had been indicted, not even that had lifted much of a smile.

  I was hoping London would be a change of scene. For all he came from wealth, I knew he’d never traveled to the UK, so there’d be some cool things for him to see, and for all that NYC was a wonderful place, I preferred London.

  Always had.

  As I stared up at the Kensington house, a place I visited infrequently thanks to most of my time being spent in the States, I stretched just as two men came darting around the corner.

  O
ne of them I knew quite well as he was an author in our stable. Kurt Jenner’s biggest releases had just been made into a movie, and as a result, Astley Publishing would be ticking over very nicely on sales of his Black Blood novels for the next few years.

  I recognized Sawyer Bennett, simply because Kurt had been outed last year as living in a household of six. It made the French ménage à trois seem rather prudish…

  Pounding the pavement as they were, when Kurt saw me, his cheeks bright pink from exertion, I arched a brow as he flopped over, grunting, “Sawyer, stop.”

  We’d all been neighbors for years, even if I didn’t visit often. I was well aware that the five men had lived together since university, but I’d believed them just to be friends... What went on behind closed doors, eh?

  “Devlin? What the hell are ye doin’ ‘ere?” The braw Scottish accent had my lips twitching into a grin.

  For all that I was at home in the US, this was my rightful place. To hear a thousand accents, a hundred different pitches, to evade the slight monotony of the American voice.

  Considering I’d decided to fall for an American with said tone, it wasn’t like I could avoid it, but it was a pleasant auditory experience nonetheless.

  “I’ve come to visit,” I said wryly.

  Sawyer scowled at me—ever his charming self. “Ye live in New York now, isnae that right?”

  “I do,” I confirmed.

  Kurt, who’d been flopped over trying to catch his breath, stood up long enough to elbow him in the side then flop back over. “I told you about that Rhode bitch and the accusations she was stringing around.”

  “You believed me?”

  Kurt snorted. “I’ve had to deal with Rhode several times... more’s the pity.”

  I frowned. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  He shrugged. “Not my place.”

  Uneasy with that, uneasy with just how many authors might have been insulted by that cow, I muttered, “What’s with the running? I thought you hated it.”

  “He does,” Sawyer said grimly.

  Kurt pulled a face. “You know we’re... involved now?”