My mind doesn’t fully wrap around what’s happening before it’s too late. My mouth invites him in, our tongues reuniting and fighting for control. His lips move around mine desperate and eager as if it would physically pain him to let them go. His hands release my wrist as one grips the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. The other hand wraps around me, his palm flat against the small of my back. His fingers press into the flesh, pleading with me to say the words he’s secretly begging me to say.
Bentley is a man who likes to hold control, but he wants to know it’s exactly what I want.
My hands lay flat against his chest, not sure if it’s to push him away or to grip his shirt and pull him closer. I can’t think when his mouth is on me. My mind is spinning at what I want and what I should want.
Perhaps I need to just stop thinking altogether.
“Take me to your place.”
Chapter Fifteen
Bentley
I can’t get my keys out of the door fast enough. Stumbling, I finally jerk the door open and press Ceci to my chest. I kick the door shut and throw my keys to the ground. I crush my mouth to hers, feeling the heat, and electricity spiral between us. I’ve craved her taste for over two years—her palpable desire—that belongs only to me.
I lead her down the dark hallway to my room, lips and body parts fighting to touch every surface. She whimpers against my mouth, earning a moan from deep within my throat. God. I’ve been dreaming about this for too fucking long. It doesn’t seem real right now, but I’m going to take my time with her—reunite with every inch of her body.
I grab the hem of her shirt and break away just long enough to pull it over her head. My lips find hers again as I grab the bottom of her ass and pull her up, legs wrapping around my waist. I place her on the edge of my bed, my body pressing on top of hers. I feel her crumbling underneath me, soaking up everything I’m giving her.
“You know I’m not doing this without hearing you say it first,” I growl against her ear, my left hand gripping her breast through her bra. She arches her back as my mouth kisses her neck, marking exactly where I’ve been and where I always want to be. “You need to say it,” I repeat, squeezing her breast harder.
“Bentley. Mm…god.” Her voice is pleading, but it’s not good enough.
I bend in between her legs and slowly unzip her jeans. I let my finger play with the button, finally popping it and exposing her barely-there panties.
I drop my mouth just above the panty-line and suck her skin hard. She moans as her body arches off the bed to meet my greedy lips.
“I need to know you want this, Ceci. If you want it, you’re going to have to beg for it.”
“I-I thought we were just friends…” she whimpers weakly as I begin ripping my own shirt off. She’s delusional if she thought we were just friends.
My lips continue grazing her skin, slowly brushing her panties down so my mouth can explore lower. I feel goose bumps rise as she shudders underneath me.
“We weren’t friends, Ceci,” I growl, roughly. I lower to my knees, yanking her pants down with me. I loop a finger in her panties and pull them to the side. As soon as I see her perfect, taut pink pussy, my mouth is on her. A moan rumbles up my throat as I inhale her scent and taste the deliciousness that is she. “We were never just friends.”
Her hands fist in my hair, squeezing with every lick my tongue drives into her. God, she tastes so fucking good. Better than I remember if that’s even possible.
I press my hands into her hips, forcing her to arch them up deeper into my mouth. She screams out at the intensity my mouth is causing her.
“Sweetheart,” I say, slowly licking my tongue up her stomach. “I need to hear you say it.”
“Say what?” she asks, breathy.
I smile, amused, because I know she fucking knows. “Say it, Ceci,” I demand, my tongue making its way to her bra, yanking it down to cover her nipple with my lips. I suck hard, getting a mumbled moan out of her. My hand reaches down to her swollen clit, rubbing my thumb in circles as she convulses. Her body jerks as she gets closer to release, but I slow down before she can.
And then, just before I pick the pace back up, her entire body jerks, moving out from under me.
“Stop,” she pleads. She pushes her hands roughly against my chest as she rolls away from me. She swings her legs off the bed, frantically looking for her clothes.
I’m off the bed and in front of her before she can put any clothing on. “What happened?” My voice is eager and worried I’m going to lose her.
“I-I can’t do this.” She shakes her head, but I’m not sure if she’s shaking it at herself or me. Her eyes are blinking more than normal, and I can tell she’s having an inner battle, one I’m sure I won’t be winning this time.
“Talk to me.” I grab her chin and force her to look up at me, her eyes swelling with tears.
“I don’t want to be this person, Bentley. I have a boyfriend.” Her breathing is rapid, her chest falling and rising quickly. Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, but I’m not apologizing for that.
“Please, take me home.” She pulls out of my grip and leans down to grab her shirt off the floor.
“You don’t have to go home, Ceci. We can talk,” I say sincerely. I don’t want us to leave on bad terms. This is the last fucking thing I intended.
“I don’t want to talk. I just…I need to think.”
“What’s there to think about? You know how I feel about you.”
She spins around, her face tense and bright red. “You broke me!” she screams. She shakes her head, defeated. “I loved you and you broke me. You let me walk away and you never told me how you really felt. If you loved me, you would’ve fought for me,” she declares, angrily. “And now it’s too late! I gave my heart away to someone else.”
Insert a hundred daggers into my fucking heart.
She gave it away to someone else?
I’m firing with anger. She has this all wrong.
“I broke you?” I question, loudly. “Well, you destroyed me! You were the only one I’ve ever loved, Ceci, and letting you walk away was the only thing I could do to make sense of how I felt about you.”
She freezes in place, the blood drains from her face as she responds. “You loved me?”
I close the gap between us and grab her arms, jerking her body toward me. “Yes,” I growl. “I still love you.”
Tears begin falling down her cheeks, her eyes staring up at me in shock. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear that?” she sobs. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“I was scared,” I admit. “Hannah fucked me over so bad. I didn’t want to get close to another person. I didn’t think I wanted to love.”
Her tears come faster as she chokes on sobs. I brush her tears away and lay a gentle kiss on her lips.
“I need some time.”
I swallow hard. That’s probably the worst fucking thing a girl can say. “How much?”
“I don’t know. Everything we do now will be tainted. It’s not fair to Brandon.”
Motherfucker. I didn’t need to know his goddamn name. My hands ball into fists imagining her being with someone else. The thought puts me into a blinding rage, my body fiery with jealousy and anger.
“Let’s go.”
I walk past her, scooping my shirt off the floor and pulling it over my head. I find my keys on the floor and dart out the door, Ceci not far behind me.
* * *
I don’t know what to feel once I drop her off at her house with neither of us knowing what to say.
I tell her to call me when she’s ready right before she walks out—for god knows how long.
I can’t blame her really. I should never have let it get that far, knowing she has a fucking boyfriend. One that apparently doesn’t live here, because she’s been spending her free nights with me. With me.
I can’t go home. Not with the scent of her still lingering in my place, reminding me th
at I can’t have her and that she isn’t mine.
I drive to the gym—the only place I can go when I feel like this. I let myself in and lock it back up. Maya doesn’t usually mind as long as I remember to shut everything down when I’m done.
I hit the bag hard, working on kicks and punches as the music blasts through the stereo system. When I’ve had enough, I move to the treadmill and run five miles. Before I got into kickboxing, I began working out a lot and really got into running. It was soothing and helped clear my head, however now, my head was anything but clear.
I drink some water and recharge, not yet done. My body is buzzing as the pain intensifies, but I don’t care. It’s not enough. I go to the weight room and work on my arms, legs, and abs. My blood is pumping fiercely through my veins, my body burning with pain.
I finally collapse on the floor, panting for air as my chest rises and falls rapidly. It’s the most intense workout I’ve ever had, and I still can’t get the taste of her out of my mouth.
That was ten days ago.
And not one fucking word.
Chapter Sixteen
Cecilia
When the hell did he fall in love with me? Why did he never tell me?
God, this was such a damn mess!
I collapse on my bed, my eyes sore and bloodshot. I don’t want to cry anymore. I hate crying. I just want to crawl into a ball and have my dad make everything better.
He’s been on my mind more and more as the ‘date’ gets closer. For two years, since Bentley’s told me about his gambling addiction and opening the lock box after ten years, my life’s been in limbo—just waiting for the day until I get all the answers that I’ve been begging for. At least, I hope that’s what I’ll get. There has to be something in that box that puts all the pieces together.
I wake up the next morning not feeling any better. I’m not even sure I slept.
I grab my phone off the dresser and see three text messages. All from Brandon. Crap.
Brandon: I was thinking of making a road trip down to see you. I have a few days off work. What do you think? Could you get a day or two off?
Brandon: Baby? You there?
Brandon: You must be at work, or asleep. Either way, I miss you. I can’t stop thinking about you. I hope to see you soon. Xoxo
Fuck. Me.
Brandon’s the last person that deserves to have his heart broken. Not only is he a complete sweetheart, he’s damn hot, too. He’s one of those real clean cut guys, wears nice, form-fitting clothes, and don’t even get me started on his gorgeous blue eyes. I couldn’t even believe he was single, nevertheless that he wanted to date me. And now I was going to have to break his heart. His perfect, sweet, and sensitive heart.
When the school year ended, we agreed to not be overly clingy. Brandon was always good about that, never smothering me. He knew I was kind of shy and timid when it came to dating, so he never pressured me into anything. He didn’t know much about my past, but he never drilled me for any information I didn’t want to share.
Brandon worked at his dad’s company and would be working twelve-hour days. We both knew there wouldn’t be a lot of time to talk between the both of us working, especially opposite hours—him eight a.m. to eight p.m., and I usually worked bar hours from seven p.m. to two a.m.
But now he was thinking of coming here. I have to tell him the truth.
“Cecilia? Good morning, darling.” His smooth voice stings my heart even more.
“Hi, morning. Sorry for missing your texts last night. It was on silent from being at the movie theatre.”
“Oh, no problem. I passed out early anyway. So what do you think?” His voice sounds hopeful, eager to hear me say the words.
“About you coming here?”
“Yeah, I figure if I leave tomorrow morning and make only a few stops, I can get there in about nine hours.”
I swallow at how happy he sounds. He hasn’t a fucking clue, and I’m about to rip his damn heart out.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Brandon,” I say softly.
“Oh. Do you have to work?”
“That’s not it.” I exhale deeply, bracing myself for the storm I’m about to walk through.
“Oh, what’s wrong?”
“We need to talk first,” I explain. I can hear his breathing starting to pick up, his nerves obviously sensing that something is wrong. “I’m not who I portray myself to be.”
“What are you talking about? You’re fucking scaring me.” Brandon hardly ever swore unless it was in light fun. He was usually so gentle and sweet, but I could feel the rage building up in his words.
“I screwed up two years ago, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. You don’t know this about me, but my dad was murdered when I was eleven years old. Ever since, I’ve been selfishly trying to put the pieces together and have hurt some people along the way.” I finally exhale, pain rippling through me as I talk about my father again.
“Cecilia, I’m so sorry.” His voice cracks, sympathizing with me, but I hate that he is. He shouldn’t.
“I’m in love with someone else,” I blurt out. I close my eyes as I imagine his face, pain etched all over his perfect face. “I always have been.”
He stays silent, but I can hear his unsteady breaths. “I’m so sorry, Brandon.” I pause, giving him a moment, but I need to get this out. He should know the truth. “It was a messy, forbidden, hungry love that before I had a chance to fix what I had done, it was too late. And so I went to college and tried to start fresh, and that was when I met you.” I slowly exhale, lifting my eyes upward so I don’t cry with him on the phone. “And you…are so great. You were exactly what I needed, and I’m so happy we found each other. But I’d be lying to myself if I said I could stay with you while being in love with someone else. You deserve so much more, and I wish I could give you that. But I can’t.”
“Wow…” he finally breathes out. “Talk about a messy kind of love.” I can imagine him pacing, his breaths blowing through the phone. “I want to come tell you in person, Cecilia.”
“God, no. Please don’t, Brandon. I—”
“I love you.”
I close my eyes, but it’s too late. The tears escape, streaking down my cheeks. They grow heavier, pouring out of me like a leaky sink.
“I needed to say it,” he explains. “Even if you don’t feel the same way, I love you. And it’s hard to be mad at someone just because they can’t love you back.”
“You have no idea how much I wish I could. You’re an absolutely amazing guy. But I can’t be that person for you. I’d never be good enough for you.”
“You are good enough, Cecilia.” He pauses, clearing his throat. “Just not the right one.”
I grin, shaking my head at how he’s always so damn nice even when someone is ripping his heart out.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “God, I’m so sorry.”
I’m an awful, awful person. I’d do anything to take back what I’m doing to Brandon. Even though he’s being strong, I know his heart is breaking. But that’s just how he is. He never wants to make anyone hurt or feel bad. He’s always a light in someone else’s darkness.
I tell Cora all the details and she flashes me her mischievous grin, silently telling me ‘I told ya so,’ but she doesn’t rub it in my face. She knows I’m torn, hurting for two men right now.
Bentley—not knowing what my decision is and if I can let him back in.
Brandon—for breaking a perfectly kind heart in two.
How can I be with Bentley right after breaking up with someone? Wasn’t that a rebound? Tearing someone else apart just to be happy with someone else was making me sick to my stomach.
“Just take a few days to yourself. If Bentley really loves you, he’ll wait. He’ll wait until you’re ready,” she says, hanging my shirts up in my closet.
“What if I’m never ready?” I lay back on my bed, staring up at the blank ceiling. “What if I forever live with remorse and guilt?”
&nbs
p; “You won’t. You just need some time to adjust and to really think about what’s going to make you happy. No distractions.” She grabs another handful of my clothes, swinging it over her shoulder and walking back to the closet.
“What are you doing?” I finally ask, leaning up on my elbows.
“They’re going to get wrinkles, Celia. That’s why they invented this thing called a hanger.” She smiles at me as if I’m a moron. Who knows? Maybe I am.
“Celia, you’re in love with him. He’s in love with you. Why not just make it that simple?”
“Before Bentley, I never even thought I could love someone. I didn’t feel any of those emotions with Jason, and we slept together numerous times. When he moved away, it barely fazed me. So why did he have such an impact on me? Why is he different?”
“You don’t always get to chose who you love. Sometimes love chooses you and you just roll with it. Don’t question love, or fate butts his ugly ass in and messes everything up.”
I narrow my eyes at her, wondering if she’s ever going to take her own advice with Simon, but I know this isn’t the time to bring it up.
Could it really be that simple? Could I just say yes to Bentley and we’d be…happy?
I take her advice and take some time to myself. Not speaking to Brandon or Bentley allows me to clear my head—just focusing on what I want and on me. I need to stop feeling guilty and just let it all go. I didn’t sleep with Bentley…Brandon doesn’t hate me…perhaps I wasn’t completely tainted.
* * *
I wake up refreshed and decide today’s going to be the day. I’m going to go to Bentley and tell him I chose him. That I’ve been in love with him, and I’ve never stopped. I’m going to tell him I want everything he has to offer—whatever that may be.
My nerves are making me shaky and anxious as I drive into the gym parking lot. It’s been ten days since I’ve last seen him, and I can’t help the giddy feeling that overcomes me with seeing him again.
I haven’t been back to my kickboxing class in weeks, but I know he teaches some others today. And this is something I need to say to his face, not over the phone.
The Intern: Vol. 3 Page 10