After the Internship: A Novella (The Intern #4) Read online

  After the Internship

  An Intern Serial Novella

  From USA Today Bestselling Author

  Brooke Cumberland

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  Copyright © 2014 Brooke Cumberland

  http://www.brookecumberland.com

  After the Internship: A Novella

  Photography by K Keeton Designs

  Cover design by Perfect Pear Creative Covers

  Literary Editor Rogena Mitchell-Jones, Manuscript Service

  All rights reserved. No parts of the book may be used or reproduced in any matter without written permission from the author, except for inclusion of brief quotations in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, establishments, organizations, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously to give a sense of authenticity. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to another person except when loaned out per Amazon’s lending program. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then it was pirated illegally. Please purchase a copy of your own and respect the hard work of this author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9960811-6-0

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One — The wedding planner

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three — Long distance relationship

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five — Paradise—Or not

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven — Past, meet Future

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine — Murphy’s Law

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven — There’s more to the story

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen — Time to take action

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen — Two becomes one

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen — The honeymoon is over

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty — New Beginnings

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two — Saying Goodbye

  Chapter Twenty-Three — Perfect Endings

  Epilogue

  Other Books

  About the Author

  Signings

  Author’s Note

  Acknowledgements

  To my readers,

  This one’s for you.

  -B.C.

  Prologue

  Cecilia

  I COULD NEVER have imagined how drastic my life would change the moment I said yes to Bentley’s question. We lived a simple life in Omaha and traveled around the world for Bentley’s career. We kept to ourselves mostly with the exception of traveling to L.A. for events and interviews.

  I was now slowly getting use to Bentley’s lifestyle. I learned quickly that every move you make was documented by paparazzi. It only happened when we traveled thankfully, but ever since the press captured my engagement ring, they’ve been relentless.

  The summer I graduated college, we moved back to Omaha and bought a house together. Well, Bentley bought a house. I had yet to find a job, and being fresh out of college, left me limited options as a sports management major.

  Once we settled in, Bentley’s agent and assistant, Angie said it was now or never. I urged him to do it and that I’d be fine here searching for a job while he traveled. I knew the modeling industry wasn’t a nice one and, if he had the opportunity, he better take it or I’d forever regret setting him back.

  He didn’t accept that very well. He said he’d only go back into it if I went with him, knowing how often it’d keep him away from me.

  I tried to tell him that I’d be okay and that we’d be okay, but Bentley Leighton doesn’t take no for an answer.

  Deep down, I was thrilled he wanted to take me with him. I knew I didn’t want to be without him, but I also didn’t want to be the one to get in the way of his dreams. Traveling with him from state to state and country to country has been surreal—I never imagined, in my entire life, I’d be able to see the world with the man I loved.

  After opening my dad’s lock box previously, something in me changed. Not only did I finally have closure, but I also felt this eagerness to live life. Not everything had to be structured or planned out. Not everything had to be perfect, but things were perfect.

  Bentley had given me more opportunities than I could ever imagine. I never wanted to take that for granted, so when he knelt down on one knee, there was no way I’d ever want to spend my life without him. I knew I’d marry him. I knew he was my forever. I knew it was only ever Bentley.

  Growing up in the sheltered lifestyle that I had could never prepare me for what was to come. The press dug everything up about me as soon as word of the famous model, Bentley Leighton, was officially being taken off the market. They dug up my father’s case. They dug up how Bentley and I met. They dug up the stories that were once reported on my dad’s cold case murder. To the officials and society, it was still a cold case to them, and that was how it was going to stay.

  I tried to ignore it, turn off the TV when I saw it, and stopped reading all the magazines. I avoided the internet like the plague and tried to focus on the next step in our lives.

  Our marriage.

  Chapter One

  Cecilia

  The wedding planner

  “I SWEAR TO god, Celia. You make me try on one more goddamn dress—”

  “Please, Cora,” I beg, blinking my best doe eyes at her. “Just one more store.”

  Katelynn laughs next to her and rolls her eyes. “You said that two stores ago.”

  I turn and scowl at her. I’ve been dragging these two around all day, but I had yet to find the right dress.

  “This is the exact reason I eloped. You didn’t see me dragging you to a million stores,” Cora huffs.

  I sigh and narrow my eyes at her. “You also didn’t have a future monster-in-law breathing down your neck.”

  “Reason number two Simon and I eloped,” she says proudly.

  Shortly after their engagement, Cora called me from Vegas and announced her and Simon had gotten married. I about strangled her through the phone, but I was beyond excited for them. My first reaction was to ask if she was pregnant, but once she put that to rest, they both started looking for jobs. Once they had saved enough money, they bought a house in a small town outside of Omaha. I’m actually very impressed with how put together they are. They work perfectly as a couple.

  We walk into another store, and I immediately scan for the bridesmaid dresses. We have less than an hour before we have to leave. If Bentley’s mom finds out we’re shopping without her, I’ll never hear the end of it.

  I’ve explained to Bentley’s mom—Mrs. Leighton—what kind of wedding Bentley and I want. All I get in return is a mumbled response—usually something about how awful my ideas are and how this wedding needs to be ‘elegant’ and ‘charming’—aka Leighton’s signature over-the-top society-approved event. Basically, she wants to show it off for the press.

  She insists on helping and even wants to hire a wedding planner, but I don’t want that. I don’t need that. I can plan my own damn wedding.

  She’s lived the prestigious life much longer than I have. I’m still getting use to everything—if I
can ever get used to it.

  Ever since our engagement was broadcasted, the paparazzi have been actively trying to dig out the details of our wedding. They weren’t bad at the beginning of our relationship since we were good at keeping out of the public, but now, with a ring on my finger, they think it’s fair game. We were fortunate in keeping most of our personal lives a secret while we lived in Lincoln, and since he took a break the first year we were back together, there were no issues at all.

  However, now that we were living back in Omaha, and Bentley was back to modeling fulltime, the media went crazy with our story.

  “Oh, I love that one!” I gush as I take a good look at Cora in the mirror. She’s wearing a strapless, light purple dress that sits mid-thigh in the front. The back flows longer, just past her knees. The fabric is light and flowy—perfect for our summer wedding.

  “That is definitely the winner,” Katelynn agrees. “The color works, the fabric isn’t heavy, and it’ll definitely push my boobs up.”

  I laugh at her remark. She’s been so great throughout all of this, knowing how Mrs. Leighton has been on my back about certain details and how she would like her son’s wedding to be planned.

  Katelynn tries on the same dress in her size, and before we leave, I quickly put a down payment on both before Mrs. Leighton can get her greedy hands on them and switch them out.

  Bentley’s been traveling lately, and I opted to stay home while I worked on wedding details. It was a short trip this time and he should be arriving home any moment.

  We say our goodbyes before I head back out to my car. I keep waiting for a text from Bentley to let me know his plane arrived safely, but I haven’t heard from him yet.

  I start driving back home when my phone rings and assuming it’s him, I pick up without looking.

  “Hey!” The smile on my face widens but quickly turns into a frown when I hear a female voice on the other end.

  “Cecilia, darling.” Mrs. Leighton. I cringe at the sweetness of her voice, but I know there’s discontent underlining in her tone. “Bentley is on his way home, and I think we should get together for dinner tonight. Smooth out some details that I’ve put together.”

  I bite my lip, really wishing I could tell her where to put those details of hers, but for the sake of being polite to my future mother-in-law, I hold back.

  “Sure. I’ll let Bentley know as soon as he gets home.” I force a smile even though she can’t see. “What time?”

  “Eight p.m. will suffice, dear. See you then.”

  Before I can agree or say goodbye, she hangs up. Just great.

  I park in the garage, noticing Bentley’s car is already parked.

  I begin searching around the house, calling out his name, but there’s no response. I turn the corner to the kitchen when a hand grabs me from behind, pulling me to their chest.

  “Oh, my god!” I squeal. Once I’m hit with his scent, I know it’s Bentley, and given the smirk I feel against my neck, he enjoyed scaring the living shit out of me. “What the hell? You didn’t call,” I groan as his hands find my hips and his lips coast under my ear.

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he whispers, amusement laced in his tone. “I believe I have succeeded.”

  My heart races as I melt my body against his chest, closing my eyes as his breath vibrates over my flushed skin. God, I missed him.

  He rubs his hands loosely over my hips and to my lower stomach—my body tensing at how close his hands are to where I really want him.

  “Sweetheart, you’re so stressed,” he says calmly. My eyes pop open as a shiver runs roughly down my body.

  “No, I’m not,” I lie while I allow the warmth of his body to consume me. His hands palm my breasts from the outside of my shirt, making my nipples fully erect for him.

  He leans in closer and whispers, “You’re a liar.” His lips lazily linger over my ear. My head falls to the side as his tongue darts out, licking just below my earlobe.

  “It’s just…I want certain things…and your mother…” Words fail me as I feel his erection pushing against my back and his mouth continues his delicious torture.

  “Let me help you de-stress. You’re so tense.” His voice is low and laced with seduction. He pushes our bodies closer together—if possible—letting me feel his hard and firm erection.

  I moan at his words—his mouth assaulting my neck—as both of his hands wonder down beneath my panty line. My eyes blink closed as my head falls back just as I feel a swipe of his finger against my wet and needy slit.

  “Mm…sweetheart. Your body is so ready. Always craving my touch,” he growls into my ear, his finger sinking deeper. “I love how wet you are for me. Did you miss me?”

  I feel his chest rising and falling, my own heartbeat racing at his words and touch.

  “Yes,” I pant. “God,” I moan, sinking my body into his. “I love how you do that to me.”

  “What’s that, sweetheart?” he asks softly but with authority. “This?” He rubs the pad of his finger over my sensitive clit, rubbing it in circles. I moan louder. “How about this?” He inserts his index finger as his thumb continues its circular pleasure.

  “Yes…” I pant. “All of that.”

  My back is completely pressed up against his chest, his erection jabbing into the dip of my back. He deepens his finger, making me jolt at the intense intrusion.

  One of his hands roughly skids under my shirt and up my stomach, landing over my breast. He moans deeply into my ear as he palms it, owning it.

  “Mm…Bentley, yes.” I breathe heavily as I accept everything he’s giving me. My body responds immediately to him, soaking his fingers in my arousal.

  “Relax, Ceci,” he demands. I’m trying, but it’s nearly impossible. He twists his hand, grinding his fingers deeper and harder against my aching pussy. God, I need him inside of me right now.

  My eyes flutter, blinking closed again as he picks up the pace. He’s guiding my hips into his hand, forming a rhythm that’s soon building up inside me—pleasure and need close to ripping me apart.

  “Bentley…yes. God, yes. I’m so close,” I pant, hardly able to control myself anymore. I reach down and circle my clit as his fingers work me harder. I reach up with my free hand and squeeze my other breast, desire hitting straight through my core.

  “C’mon, sweetheart. Let me hear you,” he coaxes, his lips vibrating against my ear. My entire body trembles as the orgasm builds stronger, my body tensing as it rips through me, shaking the pleasure right into me. “Good girl.” I feel him smile. “You have another one for me? I bet you do.”

  “Bentley,” I breathe out heavily, hardly recovered at all. “I-I…”

  “Shh, baby. I want to hear you this time. Scream my name,” he commands.

  “I can’t,” I plead, needing to catch my breath. My body goes limp into his chest, needing a moment to come down from the pleasure high I’ve just been sent on.

  He spins me around aggressively, my face completely flushed. He smirks suggestively as he bends to his knees. My eyes follow him as my brows rise in concern.

  “Bentley, wait—” I begin to plead, but he interrupts me with a harsh tug on my jeans. He yanks them all the way down, panties included. I grip the counter behind me, stabilizing my weight against the palms of my hands.

  “Spread your legs, sweetheart. Let me see you.” I do as he says, knowing I can’t argue with him. He rubs his hand up one leg spreading me wider as his the other hand works my clit. I’m completely distracted, unable to fight him when he’s in between my legs like this. “God, baby. You’re so gorgeous. So ready and greedy for me. I can see you dripping down your thigh already.”

  I blush crimson as he mentions how wet I am. It shouldn’t after all this time, but his words still have that effect on me.

  I respond in an achy and needy groan, craving his tongue on me. His perfect, smooth, fuckable tongue.

  “Taste me,” I beg. “I need you to.”

  “I know you do, sweetheart.” Hi
s voice remains calm as his fingers jerk inside me, twisting his wrist as he grinds deeper and harder against my G-spot.

  “Oh, god.” My hips buck at the tight sensation. His fingers work me into a frenzy, relentless in their need to please me. “Jesus, Bentley,” I pant. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be able to stand.

  He nuzzles his nose into the crease between my pussy and thigh, licking a trail around my swollen lips. Damn him, he’s fucking torturing me and pleasing me all at the same time.

  “Christ, Ceci…sweetheart, you’re so greedy for me. You want me to lick you, don’t you?” His voice is laced with amused seduction. He loves getting me worked up, begging and pleading him until he gives me exactly what I need.

  “YES!” I scream. He knows I do, dammit.

  “Say it again.”

  “Yes. Yes. God, please. YES!” I buck my hips toward him, leaning farther away from the counter and closer to his perfect, delicious mouth. “I want your mouth to fuck me, Bentley. God, I need it.” I’m ready to take control and drive his head in between my legs just as he dips his head and swipes his tongue once up my slit. I quiver at the way he teases me, his tongue taking all control from my body.

  “Mm…you’re so fucking good. So fucking delicious, sweetheart. Always.” His voice is rough, growly, as he grasps my thighs in his hands, keeping my legs parted and giving him full access to my aching pussy.

  He laps my slit again, dipping his tongue in deeper this time, but still leaving me sexually frustrated.

  “I’m about to fuck your mouth with my pussy if you don’t stop that,” I bite out.

  I feel his lips curl up in a grin against my skin. Of course, he’s amused.

  “Never mind, you’d enjoy that,” I groan.

  He nods lazily, lapping my pussy again, this time with a deeper and harder force. God, finally.

  “Don’t stop,” I plead. “Please don’t fucking stop.”

  He finally gives me exactly what I’m asking for. His hands spread me wider as his face drives deeper, his lips and tongue tasting, licking, and sucking me so damn hard I can barely hold the grip on the counter that is supposed to be holding me up.