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

  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, sending 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 pressing 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.

  Our eyes lock, no words need to be said. She knows why I need this.

  I stand in between her legs, putting one of them on my shoulder. I stroke my cock up and down her slit, preparing her for what’s to come. She grips the outside of her thigh as I slam inside. Her body automatically arches as she gasps at the intrusion.

  “Jesus Christ,” I spit out, my own body shuddering. I pull out and drive back into her, harder and deeper. She screams out, grabbing and clawing the skin on my arms. Her body accepts mine and takes everything I’m giving her.

  “God…you’re so good…” she pants.

  “If you’re able to talk while I’m fucking you, apparently, it’s not good enough,” I growl, bending lower, almost touching her chest as I thrust harder into her. She’s flat on her back with one leg over my shoulder, her body almost bent in half, but god, she’s stunning.

  I crush my lips to her mouth as I drive into her harder, faster—barely giving her room to breathe. I just want to feel her—her to feel me. If this is the last time I have her, I want it to be all of her.

  “Bentley and I were more than friends. He’d take me anywhere and everywhere he could. He was aggressive and needy, and I ached for it every time.”

  Her words cut through me as I imagine the damage that’ll do to my career. I can’t react. I can’t give my own interview. Anything I say would be a ‘he said/she said’ scenario anyway. The press wouldn’t put me on a pedestal or take my side—they’d take the side that brought in the most drama, and unless they knew about the deception and lies Hannah told years ago—the ones that almost ruined my family’s company—my side won’t even make them blink. I have no power in this one-sided betrayal. I can’t even imagine what my parents are going to do to me now. Another Leighton scandal that I won’t be able to fix. This time, it’s too public to even try to fight it.

  I pull back from her lips and look at Ceci as her eyes roll to the back of her head as my cock is buried deep inside her, filling her. We’re both panting and sweating as our bodies heat up, both close to release.

  “Bentley...” she barely whimpers. I drive into her faster, feeling her pussy clench tight around my cock. “Ah, god...yes, yes...” She comes hard around me, her fingers drawing blood into my forearms.

  I follow behind, jerking and releasing fiercely inside her. My cock is so deep inside her delicious body that I can’t control the hot liquid that fills her completely.

  I wait for our breathing to slow and return to normal before pulling out of her and readjusting myself.

  I slide my briefs up and grab her panties that landed on the floor. She sits up and grabs them, her eyes filled with questions. She doesn’t speak, and I don’t offer answers. I know it’s only a matter of time before everything is ruined.

  * * *

  She doesn’t deserve everything that’s about to come her way. The aftermath of my past haunting our future—our lives—could potentially be her breaking point. I know she loves me, and she thinks it’s unconditional. However, I know she’ll walk away when it becomes too much being with someone that’s in the spotlight.

  “Bentley…” she whispers. I feel her eyes burning into me. I don’t look up, I can’t. I don’t want to see her look of pity. “We can talk,” she offers. “I don’t plan to read the interview if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  I swallow hard. She’ll want to believe everything Hannah says is bogus, but the truth is that some of it’s real. My past. The way I chased after women, let them use me for my name and cock, was something I became accustomed to, and I welcomed it after a while. But it’s the way Hannah’s using my past to further her future…

  “Bentley was a lost soul before I came around. He was still living the luxurious model’s life when he started working at his father’s company. He didn’t want to settle down. He didn’t tame his wild ways, but I had changed that. Or so I had thought. After a while, he became loyal only to me, even after the dozens of women that had a taste of him before me. He made me feel special—cherished. I was the only girl who was able to get Bentley for more than a weekend fling. He ditched the one-night stands and partying. That’s when I knew it wouldn’t last long. That’s
when I knew he’d eventually run. Bentley doesn’t do serious.”

  Her words echo in my mind over and over, as I imagine the fake frown on her pathetic face. She wants the world to feel sorry for her and envious for her all at the same time. She wants them to feel sorry for her and love her for being able to claim the infamous ‘Bentley Leighton.’ It’s all an act, but, unfortunately, some of her words are true. I wasn’t tame when I first met Hannah. I had more flings than I had suits. I woke up next to chicks I couldn’t remember the names. I partied harder than I ever did before...simply because I could. No one told me I couldn’t. In fact, it was accepted in the modeling industry. It was part of the job—networking, as I recall. I never did drugs or ended up on the cover of magazines as a drug addict, but I definitely had a rep as a playboy. Something I regret wholeheartedly as I think of what it’s going to do to my career and Ceci.

  I shake my head as I try to rid the words from my mind, but it’s no use. I can hear her wretched voice in my head as I imagine her telling the reporter all about our sex life.

  “Whatever she said, I don’t care. I knew your background beforehand, but I know who you are now. That’s all that matters,” Ceci says soothingly. Her words should calm me, but they only put me more in a panic.

  “Ceci, there’s more than just that. She’s...detailed. She talks about things you should never know about. She talks about our sex life, places we had sex, and…well, other things. If it were you and some douchebag was talking about—god, I don’t even want to know what I’d do. But I know I wouldn’t be able to handle it. I know if some guy talked publicly about you like that, I’d be a mess.”

  “I’m not you, Bentley,” she says calmly. “I have no doubt what she said would infuriate me, but it’s best if we ignore it. I know who you are now, and to me, that’s all the matters. Why can’t you accept that?”

  “Because it’s not going to stay quiet forever. You’ll hear it whether you want to or not. People will start harassing you for comments, or you’ll start to hear quotes here and there on the news or on the radio. It’s inevitable.”