He looks up at me, licks his lips, but doesn’t say anything.
“I do believe you’re speechless, Mr. Leighton.”
He gets up from his chair and comes toward me like a pouncing lion. He cups my face with both hands before crushing our lips together, stroking his tongue against mine, passion filled-kisses emerging between us.
“I don’t have a way with words around you, Ceci. With you, I am almost speechless.” His hands soften their grip as he continues. “With you, I don’t know how to act because I’ve never felt this way before. It’s like a blend of lust and fear. A mix of wanting to protect myself and letting my guard down all at the same time. It’s almost unexplainable, but the constant beating of my heart lets me know it’s a feeling I can’t ignore.”
His face is soft and genuine. I can feel his steady breaths against my blistering skin. I don’t know what to say…I don’t know how to react.
I swallow slowly as I take in his words. They’re so…honest. And raw. I’ve cracked him—he’s falling for me.
“I’ve been having the same inner battle,” I respond honestly. “But it’s a battle I no longer want to fight.” I smile up at him, hoping he understands what I’m saying. “I don’t just want to be an office relationship, I want more.”
“It is more, Ceci. Much more.” He rubs the pad of his thumb slowly over my lips before leaning in and kissing me once more.
He takes a seat back behind his desk, trying to recover. I offer to help him sort out the files and bring them back when I’m finished.
He gladly agrees since he needs to make a call again—and apologize for his sudden ‘disruption.’
I smile wide as I grab all the files off his desk and walk out his office door as if I’ve just stolen a million dollars.
An inner battle of motive and desire are fighting inside of me—struggling on what I’m doing—desire to get them without him knowing what I’m about to do.
My father’s files sitting only a couple of feet from me feed my motive to distract him. Anything to get him thinking about something else, divert him of what he was doing previously.
I overheard his phone conversation with his father last night while we lay in bed. He thought I was passed out, but I wasn’t. I heard every word.
“I want to work on some old cases. I think it’d be good for press.”
He stayed quiet while his father spoke, but from the excitement in his voice, it was easy to assume his father agreed.
“I want to look into cases over five years old. Get some fresh eyes on them and see if I can follow up on anything. Imagine if a breakthrough exposes a case that was never solved. The press would go crazy. Not to mention, branching out would be next.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He listened to his father speak some more. “I’m going to start with the ones you personally worked on,” he stated with amusement, “just to see if I can find anything.”
He laughed with his dad, obviously joking around with him, but I knew for a fact his father worked on my dad’s case.
This was my chance.
I slam the files on my desk. I scatter them until I spot the West, #178376 on a thick manila folder. Everything they used in his case is locked up in evidence, but this was a general run down of everything they found and how they had come up empty-handed. I peek out of my office before tiptoeing to the transcripts room.
I tap my foot anxiously as I photocopy everything. There’re a good one hundred plus papers, but I’m not leaving until every piece has been scanned.
After lunch, I place the files back into his office all neatly organized. He has a lunch meeting downtown and told me to order something if I wanted.
I eat my Chinese takeout while reading over scripts of my dad’s case—trying to make sense out of anything that happened that day.
* * *
Bentley is gone the majority of the afternoon. He’s texted me several times apologizing for the delay and finally told me I could go home if I wanted. Considering there isn’t much for me to do without him, I take him up on the offer.
I start walking down the hall toward the elevator when one of the reporters stops me.
“Hi.”
“Um, hi.”
“So you’re Mr. Leighton’s weekend fling, huh?” He licks his lips, as his eyes look me up and down. I shudder with disgust.
“I’m his intern, Ceci. Who are you?” I scowl.
“Oh, my apologies.” He puts a hand to his chest, pretending to act sincere. “I’m Mr. Littleton. You can call me Toby.” He continues eyeing me. “I just wanted to meet you.”
“Great. Well, now that you have, I need to get going.”
He looks at his watch, confused. “It’s not five ‘o clock yet. I believe that’s when you’re allowed to leave.”
“Actually, Bentley is running late from a lunch meeting and said I could leave.”
“Bentley?” His eyebrows rise in suspicion.
I clear my throat quickly. “Mr. Leighton.” I swallow as he flashes a cocky grin. Shit. This guy is a complete creep.
“Do we have another Hannah on our hands?”
I raise my eyebrows in question. “Who?”
“Oh, Bentley hasn’t told you?” he asks, amused.
“Clearly, he hasn’t if I just asked who she was,” I snap back. “Excuse me, you’re in my way.” I try to walk around him, but he steps in front of me again.
“She almost took this entire company down. Piece by piece, she dug her greedy little fingers into Bentley and stole insider information. The moment she went public with it, it almost ruined us for good. Not to mention what it did to Bentley.”
My eyes glaze over at his words. I had no idea. Of course, how would I? Bentley never told me. I never asked about previous girlfriends. I only knew about his modeling career based off the search I did beforehand.
“Well…thanks for the info. I’m not sure why you felt the need to tell me, but now I’m really leaving.”
Anger—at myself—fuels my power to push him hard enough and out of my way. He gasps and reaches out for me, but I’m already two feet ahead of him and fleeing to the elevator.
Chapter Ten
Bentley
I CHECK MY watch constantly as I sit in my lunch meeting that runs three hours over. I normally schedule my conferences for during the week, but Mr. Welter flew in specifically for me.
I invite Ceci over that night. Although, I saw her that morning, I already miss her—miss touching and kissing her. I hadn’t ever missed a girl like that before. Never.
No matter how many times I see her, it’s never enough. I want more. More of her. Everything inside me screams to stop—stop letting her get close, stop letting her in.
But I don’t.
I let her sledgehammer my thick walls, step over the debris, and get right under my skin. Something I swore I wouldn’t do again after my life was almost destroyed before, but I don’t feel in control of it anymore. My heart has completely taken over, ignoring all the flashing red warning signs around me.
We’ve fallen into a comfortable routine—cooking dinner, foreplay, eating dinner, and end up either on the living room floor, the shower, or sideways on my bed.
* * *
I wake up the next morning with my arms and legs wrapped up in Ceci. Her back is pressed against my chest and all I can think about is how breathtakingly beautiful she is. Her messy locks are spread wildly on the pillow and her bare skin glows in the sunlight that’s shining through the windows. Her face looks soft and pure as it relaxes against my arm that’s wrapped under her. She looks absolutely…stunning.
She’s an addiction I never knew I wanted, a feeling of never having enough, never touching enough, never smiling enough. She made me that person. That love-sick puppy dog that craves her like my last meal. That person I swore I’d never be—that person I never wanted to be.
She startles awake, and I instinctively wrap her in closer to me, not wanting to let her go.
“Good morning.” I
kiss her shoulder softly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mm hmm,” she moans, squirming against me. “I don’t even remember falling asleep…”
I smile lightly. “You passed out pretty quickly after—”
“Oh, my god…my body. My legs,” she interrupts. “They feel like jelly.”
I rub a hand up and down her arm, feeling the goose bumps rise as I touch her. “Sorry about that.” I grin.
She turns around, not even self-conscious about the sheet falling off her exposed chest. “You are so not.” She smirks.
“Well, you’re the gymnast. Perhaps you just need more practice.”
She slaps my chest and wrinkles her nose—the most adorable fucking thing she does. “I don’t think my body could handle more practice. I think it needs rest. And perhaps a massage.” Her eyes light up, signaling exactly what she wants.
I lean down and kiss the tip of her nose. “I would love to, but I’m out of lotion.”
She bursts out laughing and it takes me a moment to think about what’s so funny.
“Oh, my god…no…not…stop laughing,” I laugh with her. “That sounded really bad.”
“Sorry,” she apologizes, continuing to laugh. “I hang out with really immature guys. It’s not my fault I find that funny.”
“Wait…you hang out with guys?” I narrow my eyebrows at her, only teasing, but wanting to know the truth.
“Yes…is that a problem?” she counters.
I cup her breast aggressively making her wince. “Not at all.” I grin. “As long as they’re gay.”
I shift on top of her and kiss the corner of her mouth. She smiles weakly, keeping her eyes closed.
I lick a trail up her body, stopping at each breast to pull in her nipple. She moans as the pressure increases.
“You like that?”
“Yes, more,” she pleads. She arches her back, exposing more of herself for me. I mouth her breast, sucking harder as my other hand moves down her stomach and don’t stop until I reach her juicy slit. I curl a finger inside, synchronizing the rhythm with the movements of my mouth.
“Oh, god! Yes! Don’t stop.”
I increase the pressure, adding a second finger inside of her. My mouth moves up her chest, licking a trail up to her lips. She moans in my mouth as her hips buck at the intensity. My fingers ride her hard and quick, curling up deep inside her.
“Harder! Yes! Yes, oh, god!” she screams as I continue finger fucking her.
“What do you need, baby?” I encourage her. “Tell me.”
“You, please! God, I want more!”
I grind my fingers in her as hard as I can, deep and slow as she arches her hips harder into me.
“Bentley! Don’t stop.”
“Jesus…” I growl against her ear, edging her on. “I love it when you scream my name, sweetheart.” I push a third finger in. “The sound of your voice when you come could cure cancer.”
I kiss her softly as she rides out her climax. She’s completely beat, so I tuck us back in and fall back to sleep.
* * *
I hear ruffling in the distance, but my eyes are too heavy to open them. I tighten my hold on Ceci, double-checking she’s still next to me. Her body is warm and molds just perfectly against mine.
“Oh, my god!” A high-pitched squeal jerks my body into overdrive. My eyes widen at the sight of my parents in my bedroom doorway.
I grab the sheet and quickly cover us up. Ceci frantically presses back against me, shielding her naked body from my parents’ eyes.
“What are you doing here?” I scold. Ceci covers her heated face with one hand, keeping her head down. Her cheeks heat as her eyes close in humiliation.
“You never showed up for brunch,” my mother scowls. “We were worried about you when you didn’t answer your phone.”
“After the tenth time calling you,” my father adds in.
“Can you please give me a minute to get dressed? I’ll meet you in my office.”
My mother clenches her pearls as she flashes me a disapproving look. My father grabs the door handle and pushes them both back into the hallway. I wait until the door clicks before finally exhaling.
“I am so sorry.”
She uncovers her face finally. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. Getting caught by your parents.” She swings her legs off the bed and begins looking for her clothes.
“Are you angry?” I sit up and watch as she frantically searches for her clothes that I know are lying on my living room floor.
“No, I’m just embarrassed.”
“I know. And I’m so sorry. I should’ve remembered to call them and let them know I wasn’t coming. I’ll go speak to them and ask them to leave. Okay?” I grab a pair of shorts and shirt from the closet. “Your clothes are in the living room, by the way.” I kiss her gently on the forehead before heading out to scold my parents.
I brush a hand through my hair as I prepare for a lecture for missing Sunday brunch.
I close the office door behind me as I lean back against it. Both of my parents are standing and staring at me—practically glaring daggers in my direction.
“It’s not what you think—”
“It’s exactly what we think,” my mom huffs, cutting me off. “Is she another Hannah?”
“NO! She isn’t like that at all. She’s not just a one-night stand,” I defend. “You met her already,” I remind my mother.
My father grins wide and my mother takes notice, jabbing him in the gut with her elbow.
“Yes, but after what happened last time, your dates don’t usually last longer than one night.”
“Thanks for making me sound like a pig.” I cross my arms in disbelief. Most parents would approve of their son being in a relationship.
“We’re still dealing with Hannah,” she reminds me. “What did we tell you?”
“Patricia,” my father warns, but she ignores him.
“Did you at least do a background check on her? Make sure she’s not another one?”
“Oh, my god…” I groan, brushing a firm hand through my hair. “Not every girl is going to be like Hannah. She’s not like that.”
“And how do you know, Bentley? You need to be careful. You aren’t just a typical guy—”
“Yes, I know.” I roll my eyes at the same lecture she’s been giving me for two years. “She’s an intern,” I spit out needing to get her off my case.
My father’s eyes go wide. “Your intern?” he asks slowly, and I know I really fucked up now.
“Yes, but it’s not like that,” I say quickly.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing, Bentley?” he scowls. “Apparently you aren’t ready, son, putting the company at risk. Not to mention breaking a hundred company rules.”
“It’s not like that,” I say again more firmly. “She isn’t Hannah. I’ve checked her out already. She attends the University of Nebraska. She’s a senior and is graduating this semester.”
My mother walks toward me and places a hand on my cheek, her eyes finally going soft. “Just be careful, son.” My father follows suit and doesn’t even look me in the eye as I step out of the way for them to leave.
I exhale as I hear my front door closing. Flustered, I pace the floor until I regulate my breathing. This couldn’t have been worst timing.
“Ceci?” I call out as I walk down the hallway back to my room. “They’re gone now. It’s safe to come out.” But she doesn’t respond. “Ceci?”
I push my bedroom door open and look around, but she isn’t in here. “Ceci?” I call out again with fear laced in my voice.
I run to the door and whip it open to see that her car is gone.
She left.
Chapter Eleven
Cecilia
I CRY MYSELF to sleep every night until it overcomes me, and I have no other option, but to pass out. The hurt, the betrayal, the lies. I’ve caused it all.
I overheard Bentley’s mother yelling at him. Hannah.
Why did she do it? Did Bentley love her? Who was she exactly? Answers I didn’t deserve to know. Answers that would soon force my lies to crumble down around me.
I can’t hurt him. Not after what he’s already gone through. I don’t know anything about this Hannah chick, but I know enough from Toby and his mother’s screams to know she’s bad news and that she royally fucked Bentley over.
I ignore every call and email from Bentley. I know I have to deal with my consequences soon. I know he won’t just let it go. Let me go. But I’ll have to convince him, though.
* * *
It’s taking me days to read and dissect everything in my dad’s files. Although it’s a summary of it all, I find myself Googling the terms to even know what they mean. I don’t want to rush through, it’s my only piece of hope—I’m reading it thoroughly, word by word.
Simon knocks on my door Friday afternoon with a suspicious grin and a grocery bag. I narrow my eyes at him as he lets himself in.
“Come in,” I mock. “What are you doing here?”
He spins around and eyes me carefully. “I’ve known you for years, Celia. Long enough to know when something is wrong. You’ve been off all week.”
I tilt my body forward, chancing a glance inside his bag. “And you’ve brought me cookie dough and ice cream?” I tease.
“I’m not a chick,” he retorts. I raise my eyebrows at him and he sighs in defeat. “But you’re a chick, so of course, I brought you junk food.”
“I knew there was a reason I keep you around.”
“Well, I’m kidnapping you. Pack a bag and meet me at the car.”
“Wait, what?”
“You haven’t told me to fuck off all week, so that’s when I know there’s something wrong.” I laugh at his bluntness.
“Fine,” I groan. “Meet you in five.”
Simon lets me dig into the cookie dough on the ride to his house. I’ve been sleeping over at Simon’s for years. His parents are super laid back, and I secretly think they are hoping something happens between us, but it’s never going to happen. Simon is like a brother to me.
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