I pull her up, wrapping a hand behind her back and one behind her neck. Heavy breaths and silent pleas linger in the air as I carry her back into the bedroom.
“I thought you said we’re going to be late,” she says breathily as I lay her on the bed.
“Who fucking cares? You need me and I need you. The rest doesn’t matter.”
She’s exposed so flawlessly, brushing her hand up her stomach and resting over her breasts. She’s teasing me, eyeing me hard to see what I’m going to do next with her.
“Jesus, Ceci...you drive me so fucking insane, I can’t stand it.” I lay over her, resting my palms on both sides of her face. “So. Fucking. Insane.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me to her. Her lips cover mine, consuming me before I can protest. Her kiss is needy and urgent as if she hasn’t tasted me in months. The way she pants in my mouth let me know how much she wants me.
I break the kiss and run my lips down her jawline, her body arches as I kiss down her neck and below her collarbone.
“Grab the bed and hold on.”
She fists the sheets, gasping as my tongue runs a line down her stomach. I bend down, kneeling on the floor as I take her pussy into my mouth. I push her legs wider as my mouth and tongue lap her clit, her body shaking underneath.
“God, Bentley...that’s fucking incredible,” she pants, barely audible. I pull her clit into my mouth, sucking hard as she jerks her hips. She releases the most delicious sounds, a mixture of pleasure and torture, as her body battles between wanting more and needing her release. Her voice is raspy, almost a growl as she cries out.
I lick up her slit, twirling her clit around with my tongue as I insert two fingers. I drive deep and hard as my mouth continues working her. I lap her pussy over and over until her body trembles and her sweet flavor fills my mouth. I groan as I taste her—our mixed juices captivating me on a temporary high.
I finally come up for air as her body slowly comes down. I kiss her thigh gently before crawling over her body and applying sweet kisses to her heated skin.
“Christ, I can’t believe I get to experience that for the rest...of...my...life.” I dramatically drag out, letting each word linger on my breath as I smile down at her.
“You’re going to kill me with that perfect mouth of yours, so I’m not sure how long I’ll actually have.” She keeps her smirky pout in place as I lay over her.
“That’d be one interesting tombstone—Death by orgasm.”
“Orgasm-overload would be more like it.” Her face heats as my breath brushes against her ear.
“That’d be one hell of a way to die.” I grin against her neck. “However, I’m going to be dead if we don’t leave soon.”
We finally get ready for the day, two hours behind schedule. Angie’s called my cell thirteen times, left me four voicemails, and texted me eight times. I am so fucked.
Angie surprisingly didn’t chew my ass out. At least not in front of everyone. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did later, though.
Ceci came with me today. She patiently waited and watched as people dressed me, posed me, and ordered me around. On days I have shoots, this is what my days consisted of. Not all days were constructed this way. Some shoots were on location or with other models. Sometimes I was able to take her out and enjoy the scenery in between shoots. This week would be similar to that—each day bringing something new.
* * *
The rest of the week was perfect. Ceci and I started and ended the day as we always do—naked and out of breath. I made sure to take a break every couple of hours in between interviews and shoots to kiss her and remind her that I’m hers. Some of the shoots were with other models, specifically women. Ceci has never said anything to me about it, but I know it makes her a bit uncomfortable. She knows it means nothing, but I know I’d feel the same way if the roles were reversed. In fact, I know I wouldn’t take it as well as she does. I’m sure I’d be right next to her, making sure his hands didn’t unnecessarily touch her somehow. It’s probably for the best the roles are, in fact, not reversed.
I watch as she yawns, her eyes heavy as she sits in the seat next to me. We were in for a long flight, but knowing we’d spend a good two days in bed when we arrived home got me through it. Those were always the best days.
“I can’t wait to get you home,” I whisper softly. “Once we leave LA, we get two uninterrupted days—phones off, food delivered and a whole lot of steamy sex. Forty-eight perfect hours.”
She giggles lightly, shaking her head at me. “I don’t know...that sounds like that could be my death sentence.”
“I promise to be gentle...at first, anyway.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if your mother comes pounding on the door looking for me.” She sighs. “I don’t know why I even bother pretending to plan this wedding anymore.”
“Sweetheart.” I lift her chin so she’ll look at me. “I want you to have exactly what you want. My mother’s just trying to stick with her image. She thinks if her son has this extravagant wedding, it’ll somehow push her farther up the social ladder. Just remind her and tell her what we what.”
She scowls, lifting her upper lip at me. “That’s way easier said than done. She’s a bull. She doesn’t listen.”
“Then make her listen,” I suggest. “It’s the only way you’ll get through to her. I’ll talk to her, but it won’t do any good until you stand up to her.”
“You want my future mother-in-law to hate me?”
“She won’t hate you. I promise.”
“You know I don’t do well with mothers. Look how long it took to build a relationship with my own mother,” she scoffs.
“All right. I’ll talk to her.”
“Let’s just ditch the whole thing and elope like Cora and Simon,” she suggests playfully, but suddenly, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.
Chapter Seven
Cecilia
Past, Meet Future
WE FIRST LAND in L.A. for Bentley’s conference with his agency. We usually spend a day or two here in some nice luxury suite before heading back to Omaha.
“I wish Omaha was this warm in winter,” I whine, unpacking a few t-shirts from my suitcase.
“And then you’d complain about it being too hot and not having a white Christmas and all that.” I can feel him smiling against my neck as he wraps his arms around me from behind.
“You’re probably right, but after a long winter already, I’m happy to soak up the sun here for now.”
I zip up my suitcase and turn to wrap my arms around his neck. “I think I need a vacation from our vacation.” We spent half the day on the plane, and I was beat just from following Bentley to his shoots all week. I was ready for some major R&R.
“I’m glad it was a vacation for you…I, on the other hand, was working,” he says in amusement.
I glare at him, trying to hide a smile. “Yes, I saw how hard you were working. Dressing in designer clothes, free food, and girls all over you. You really have it bad.” I roll my eyes dramatically, keeping a serious face.
He begins tickling me, making my body convulse into spasms as I try to pull myself out of his grip. “You think you’re funny, do you?” he taunts, chasing me around the bed.
“Stop!” I laugh, falling down on the bed. He’s laughing at me as I squirm for freedom, his greedy hands continuing their evil torture.
“Take it back,” he says, trying to look serious, “and I’ll stop.” He cocks a smile.
“Fine, fine!” I surrender. “I take it back…” But not really. His hands finally stop, locking my wrists in his palms. “Now let me go,” I beg, trying to sound serious, but the devilish grin he’s displaying makes it hard not to smile back at him.
“I don’t think so.” He pins me against the bed, keeping my wrists locked. “We aren’t quite even yet.”
He bows his head and puts the cloth of my shirt in his mouth, moving it upward and exposing my skin. He begins lightly kissing my lower stomach, sen
ding chills down my spine as the roughness of his beard rubs against my flesh. I know exactly what he’s doing—thinking he can get me all worked up—but it’s not going to work.
“Nice try…I’m not falling for the bait,” I warn him, lying completely still. I feel him smiling, not giving up on his plan.
He maneuvers his lips lower by my panty line. I try to concentrate on anything but his mouth, but it’s nearly impossible. Instead of moving the fabric down, as I expect him to, he continues lowering his mouth right over my pussy. He mouths it, biting the lips right through the fabric of my shorts.
His hands never leave my wrists, his upper arms pinning my hips down. I could get out of his grip if I tried, but I know he’d put up a fight—that’d I’d end up losing.
“Mm…” I hear him moan, his mouth continuing its blissful torture. The sensation feels incredible considering his mouth isn’t even touching my bare skin. The fabric rubbing against my clit as he moves his lips is intoxicating and has me close to convulsing.
“Ahh, oh, god…” My back arches, putting his mouth on me deeper. “Mm, yes.” It’s too late before I realize I’m giving into what he’s doing to me. Dammit.
“That a girl,” he encourages. His mouth moves to the top of my shorts, his chin pushing them down. He grips the top of my panties with his teeth and pulls them down half past my thighs.
Sweet Jesus…he just pulled my panties down without even using his hands.
I’m fully exposed to him now as his mouth captures my pussy again. His tongue runs up my slit twice before pulling my clit into his mouth, sucking hard until I come in his mouth. “God, Bentley…”
My body relaxes against the mattress, surrendering to him. Okay, he wins. For now.
* * *
By morning, I feel so much better. I must’ve gotten over twelve hours of sleep. Bentley’s side of the bed is empty, but I know he has to be near. I walk around the bed and out of our room to find him and Angie sitting in the TV room.
“Morning,” I say softly, not wanting to startle them. “Or rather, afternoon.” I smile as I make my way to them.
They both turn around and face me. Instead of seeing Bentley’s bright expression, I see panic, fear, and anger.
“Ceci…” Bentley whimpers out. His jaw ticks as his eyes flash a wave of concern.
I walk closer and get a glimpse of the TV. It’s then I realize what they are both watching—CTV News—Celebrity TV News.
“What is it?” I ask. His expression is firm and tense.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He bows his head as he continuously shakes it back and forth, fisting his hands in his hair. “God, I’m sorry.”
“Bentley, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong.” I kneel in between his legs, forcing him to look at me. “What happened?”
He brushes his hand over his face, obviously stressed and overwhelmed. He doesn’t say anything, which scares me even further.
Angie grabs the remote and turns the volume up. The sound of a reporter jerks my attention away from Bentley and to the screen where a collage of Bentley’s pictures parade over the screen.
The reporter is talking about his career and how this exclusive interview could shamble it into pieces.
“What’s she talking about?” I ask to anyone who’ll give me the answers. “What interview?”
“It’s Hannah.” Bentley finally speaks up, disbelief written all over his face.
“What about her? I thought that was taken care of years ago,” I say, needing more clarification.
“She...she went to the press. She exposed herself as being involved with me years ago—leaving out what she did of course—and revealed that we were intimate together. She did a full interview with pictures and descriptions of our nights together. The tabloids ran with it, magazines claiming I’m still hooking up with her, and that our engagement is now in jeopardy.” I swallow hard as I take in everything he’s saying. “They took everything she said in the interview and dramatically twisted it online.” He rubs his hands forcefully over his face, showing just how much stress he’s under. “She’s only doing it to further her career. That has to be the only logical explanation why, after all this time, she’s talking now.”
“What career?” I ask softly since the tears that are threatening to take over are making it nearly impossible to speak. “I thought she was a journalist or something.”
“Yeah, she was. She’s been trying to get into acting, I guess—trying to nail an audition. Apparently, she hasn’t been successful and is now using me to get herself there.”
I breathe deeply, trying to remain cool. This is about Bentley. It’s his name on the line. “What can we do? Can you sue for slander? Or get the articles down? Or rebuttal?”
He shakes his head. “Not sure.”
Angie finally speaks up. “I’m working on doing damage control—making sure to handle the press. They’re going to do anything to get a comment from him or even you—anything they can use as a story or comment.” She sighs. “It’s a fucking mess.”
“Bentley...” I grab his face and kiss his lips lightly to distract him from the TV. “It’ll be fine. I mean, it’s old news. You were together years ago.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Angie intervenes. “It’s juicy gossip with a high-profile model, and they’ll run with anything they can get.”
“But how do they even know it’s true? I mean, couldn’t anyone make shit up?” I question, sitting on the edge of the coffee table.
“She has proof,” Bentley interrupts.
“Proof? What proof?” I ask hurriedly, panicking that Bentley has some crazy sex video that she released or something.
“Pictures,” Angie answers. “Pictures of them together, looking like a couple, going to charity events,” she rambles on. “It’s enough proof to take what she’s saying as true.”
“Shit,” I whisper, panic rippling through me as I take in how bad this can be for Bentley’s career. “Can something like this blow over?” I ask, hoping she tells me it’ll be old news by next week.
“Not likely.” She deadpans.
Bentley begins rubbing his palms over thighs; his telling sign when he’s stressed out.
“Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems,” I say, trying to comfort him.
“She...told them everything,” he responds, his tone flat. I give a puzzled look and he continues. “What Hannah…what she said is pretty detailed and explicit. She went into our sex life. She told them intimate details about us. I don’t want you reading that shit. It’s awful.”
I gasp unintentionally. I hadn’t thought about that, but now it makes perfect sense. Of course, she would. After what she did before, it shouldn’t surprise me she’d use him again.
“God, Bentley...” He must feel so humiliated. I hardly know what to say.
It stays awkwardly silent for a few moments
“You’re going to need to stay low for a while,” Angie finally says. “The paparazzi will try to get a glimpse of you or to goad you into saying something. They’ll use whatever you give them and run with it.”
“I wouldn’t say anything,” I confirm.
* * *
Once Angie leaves, we just sit silently, neither of us knowing what to say. I sit at the edge of the couch, wishing I could get the reporter’s voice out of my head. They’ve basically pegged Bentley as a ‘typical man-whore model, who can’t keep it in his pants,’ which is complete bogus considering how long we’ve been together. But as Angie explains it, tabloids will use anything to make a buck. Considering Hannah was more than willing to spill, they were more than anxious to broadcast the story.
Bentley stands up and begins pacing. I anxiously rub my hands together before standing up to speak.
“Bentley? Are you all—”
Before I can finish, he grabs my neck and pulls me to him. His grip is firm, needy. I feel him before I see him, his mouth on mine before I have a chance to protest. He slams me against the wall, his body pre
ssing hard into mine. One of his hands is firm on my hip while the other grasps my neck. He’s aggressive and needy in his touch, completely taking me off guard.
“Bentley…” I whimper, unable to keep up with his demanding lips.
“Not now, Ceci. I need you,” he pants, slamming us against the wall, holding me hostage. He pulls me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. He pushes back against the wall and walks us to the dining room table. He gasps in my mouth, our lips never parting as his tongue fights for control. I try to stable the pace.
“Wait…” I plead. I push my hands on his chest, barely breaking away. “We can talk,” I offer.
“Don’t push me away,” he breathes, crushing our lips back together. “I don’t want to talk. I just want you,” he moans, desperation in his tone. I finally give in and allow him to devour my lips.
I pull back slightly and pull my shirt off over my head. I ring my hands around his neck and pull him down to my mouth, my legs tightening around his waist. His hand moves to my back, unhooking my bra and pulling the straps down and off me. I can feel the urgency in which he needs me, so I let him take full advantage. Whatever he needs for whatever reason, I let him take it.
Chapter Eight
Bentley
CECI GIVES ME just what I need—clarification. I need to have her, be inside her deep, and fuck her hard. We weren’t making love this time, no—this was desperate and needy.
I lay her back gently on my table, scooting her legs to the edge so they hang down. I finger her panties and slide them down her legs where they pool to the floor. I pull my own briefs down, stroking my cock in my hand as I take in her gorgeous body in front of me.
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