"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.