“So what made you interested in journalism and criminology?” he asks suddenly. He’s staring intently at me as if he can see right through me, as if all my secrets are transparent.
“I’ve always been fascinated with them both, but for different reasons,” I begin, sinking lower into the chair as I make myself comfortable. “Writing is something that comes naturally to me, something that has been very therapeutic in the journey to adulthood. And criminology, well, what’s not to love?” I smirk, crossing my legs to expose the bare flesh. I want to get off this topic as soon as possible. It doesn’t work.
“So what are your plans for after graduation?” He eyes me curiously. I tense up at his question, knowing I need to be convincing in my lies.
“I hope to get a full-time job in something that merges both of my majors and interests together,” I say vaguely, hoping he stops grilling me.
“Hm…and what’s that exactly?” He tilts his head up, and I know he’s not going to quit anytime soon. Time to take back the reins.
“Why don’t you tell me how you got here, Mr. Leighton? I know you’re only twenty-six and fresh out of grad school, with a master’s in English. Is this what you planned for after graduation?” I speak in a low tone, laced with seduction, hoping it distracts him from asking about my future plans. And it works. I watch his eyes stare at my lips, as if he’s thinking hard about them.
“You’re quite the little investigator,” he muses, licking his own lips. “My guess is you already know the answer to that.”
I laugh out loud at his cockiness. “No, the only thing that comes up when I research you are photos of you with chicks in bikinis and information on Senior Mr. Leighton. Anything personal about you was zipped tight.”
That comes out much harsher than I mean for it to, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he laughs.
He fucking laughs at me.
“If that’s all you found, then I guess I have nothing to worry about.”
Now I’m curious as to what secrets he’s possibly hiding. It’s not easy for someone in the spotlight to keep personal demons unknown, but apparently, he’s managed somehow.
“So what’s your story? You have a Google page I can snoop through?” he asks with a cocky grin as he leans back in his chair and folds his arms. “Any stalker ex-boyfriends I need to be aware of?”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “I’m pretty certain that breaks about a hundred employment codes, asking about my relationship status.”
He smirks. “This is hardly a job—I mean, you come in on Saturdays.” He laughs before adding, “for free.”
“So?” I quickly defend. “Not all of us have a trust fund for financial security for the rest of our lives. Some of us have to do it the hard way, and in most cases, work for free to gain experience and work our way up.”
He leans forward in his chair in complete seriousness. And it’s not until he speaks that I think he’s about to chew my ass off. “Wait…wait a fucking minute! You mean to tell me that you don’t have a trust fund? I thought all the kids did.”
I scowl at the way he’s teasing me. “Since this isn’t a ‘real’ job, I don’t feel threatened to say that you’re a real asshole.” I grip the chair and stand up, his laughter ringing in my ears as I make my way to the door.
I don’t need his condescending shit.
“Wait.” He’s still laughing. Storming out, I feel his hand on my arm as I reach the door. I freeze in my tracks, my back to his chest. I can feel his heartbeat racing—it matches mine. My skin heats as his touch sears my flesh. The way his hand is still gripping my arm sends a shiver down my body, the attraction to him making it nearly impossible not to relax against his body. My body trembles and I know he can feel it.
“Ceci, I said wait,” he growls. His voice is no longer light and playful. It’s as if he’s turned a complete 180 degrees.
He spins me around, and I gasp at the closeness. My eyes skim his body, going from his hips to his chest, and up to his face. He looks much bigger up close, his muscles more defined. He’s built, and his biceps are about to pop out of his baby-blue button up shirt. He’s dressed more casually today, not in his usual suit and tie.
“I’m waiting,” I manage to say. I don’t want him to know how he affects me, but part of me knows it’s too late—he knows.
“I was only kidding,” he says genuinely, and I feel bad for getting upset. “I don’t know your past, so it was really arrogant of me to shove my wealth in your face.”
This guy is unreal.
I jerk my arm out of his grasp and lock eyes with him. “I don’t care how much money you have, or how little money I have, it doesn’t make you any better than me or anyone else. And I stand by my first observation—you’re an asshole.”
Instead of getting angry like I had hoped, he flashes a genuine smile and places his hand on my cheek. The connection instantly sends goose bumps over my skin—suddenly making it feel cold in here, but I know it isn’t. It’s evident the way my body reacts to him—the dueling attraction and feelings. I only wanted to flirt and mess with him, but it seems my own body has betrayed me.
“Don’t go. Our lunch will be here shortly,” he pleads.
His eyes go soft as he speaks. I feel mesmerized by his voice, so all I can do is nod. He grabs my hand and leads me back to the chair in front of his desk. I watch silently as he takes his seat back, and soon, we’re playing a game of chicken—who’s going to stay away the longest and who’s going to break.
If I play my cards right, he’ll be the one breaking, but I have a feeling I’m no longer in the driver’s seat.
CHAPTER 6
Cecilia
The mood lightens once our food arrives, and Bentley begins telling me more about the company. I ask him questions, and he happily answers them. I dig for as much information as I can—anything that will help lead me to the answers I want.
“This is starting to feel like an interrogation,” he says once we’ve finished our food. “I think it’s time for twenty questions—lightning- round style.”
I flash him a confused look, and he laughs. “I’m going to ask you questions as fast as I can, and you have to answer them all as fast as you can.”
“That sounds painful.” I giggle. “But I’ll try it.”
He smirks as he casually places his arms on top of his desk in front of me. “Okay, ready?”
I nod. “Bring it.”
He locks eyes with me as he begins his questions. “Favorite food?”
“Italian.”
“Favorite color?”
“Red.”
“Favorite thing to wear to bed?”
“A tank top and shorts.”
“First boyfriend’s name?”
“Malcolm.”
“Age when you lost your virginity?”
I try not to laugh at the absurd questions because he’s taking this so seriously, so I match his expression. I fold my hands on top of the desk and lock eyes with him as I answer.
“Sixteen and a half.”
He smirks.
“Favorite position?”
“This doesn’t sound very job-related.”
“No breaking the rules, Ceci.” Bentley rolls the sound of my name with seduction, making sure I listen to his made-up game.
I swallow.
“The roller coaster.”
I read an article about it in Cosmo, and it sounds like something that’ll get his attention.
And it does.
He raises an eyebrow at me, and I can tell he wants to ask me what exactly that is—because only girls really know names of positions—so I’m assuming he’s clueless on what exactly I mean.
“Don’t think we’re not getting back to that one.” He cocks a grin.
“We’ll see.”
He laughs.
“Worst grade you ever got?”
“B+.”
“Goody-Two-shoes,” he jibes. I just shake my head at him.
“The most interes
ting place you’ve had sex?”
I see the game he’s playing. One or two innocent questions before he pops in a sexual one.
“At work.”
I instantly close my eyes the second the words come out. Now he’ll get ideas in his head for sure.
I hear him swallow. Hard.
I open my eyes and see he’s adjusting himself. Now he’s hard.
Fuck, it’s hot to see Bentley all sexually frustrated. I never noticed a guy adjusting his pants as much as Bentley does, and for some reason, it turns me on.
It’s hot seeing what I do to him, and suddenly my body and heart are no longer fighting. They’re on the same level—matching heartbeats and sexual desires.
I grin and lean over the desk to where his hands are resting. “Are you all right over there?”
“I’d be better if I wasn’t rock hard and on the fast track to getting blue balls,” he responds bluntly. I can’t help but notice how thick he looks under his pants. I can feel my cheeks heat up, but I quickly remind myself I can’t show him that side of me.
I keep my stance, not wanting to show how much that affects me. “Hmm…I could Google some of those bikini bimbos and get their numbers. I’m sure one of them could help you out with your… um…issue.”
Bentley walks around the desk and aggressively grabs my hand. “You want to feel what you do to me, Ceci?” He wraps both of our hands around his thick, growing erection. “Do you want to know what you’ve been doing to me since the second I met you?”
My eyes halt on the firm bulge under our hands. I swallow in anticipation, but fear isn’t too far behind. I’m not used to boys—rather men—coming onto me so strong.
“You’re blunt,” I blurt out.
“Well, why shouldn’t I be? When I know what I want—who I want—I go for it,” he says, in all seriousness. My heart practically stops at his confession. I’m unsure how to handle him—if I can handle him.
Then again, I’m insanely attracted to him. I mean, who wouldn’t be? And if I make a scene now—something a young, inexperienced girl would do—I’d lose any chance of coming back and finding the information that I need. I couldn’t let him see that side of me.
Not that I want to make a scene, but I’m committed to doing anything that will get me what I need—to find the truth.
I surprise myself when I allow him to move our hands up and down his thick length, my breath hitching as I feel his shaft stretching under the heat of my hand. He’s so close, making my body burn and my mind spiral out of control. I moan as our hands stroke his shaft together. He’s just what I imagined—thick and large—larger than I’ve ever felt before.
“Do you feel that, Ceci?”
“Mm-hmm,” I moan, my eyes closing on their own accord. My entire body is trembling my skin covered in goose bumps, and my pussy is throbbing as I feel the fabric of his slacks around my hand.
I can feel Bentley’s face close to mine. I lick my lips in anticipation, but before his mouth can meet mine, his cell phone rings, startling both of us and making us immediately come apart.
“Fuck,” he growls.
He searches for his phone in his pocket and curses again when he sees the name on the screen.
“What?” he barks. “This is not a good time.”
He turns and faces the window as he shifts his pants back into place. I can tell he’s trying to tame himself, and I take that as my cue to get the hell out.
I need to stay focused. On task. I’m here for one reason and one reason only.
Or so I keep telling myself.
* * *
I sit, feeling anxious, continuing to read through open cases and scanning in the transcripts.
I feel Bentley behind me before I see him. My body gets chills when he walks in. I continue what I’m doing and ignore the fact that his body continues to get closer to mine.
“I apologize for that earlier,” he begins in a more natural tone. He doesn’t sound as tense, but he’s not demanding, either.
“It’s fine.” I wave him off, not turning around to look at him. “It was a weak moment. It’ll never happen again.”
I hope that he accepts that and walks out so I can continue reading through files.
He grabs my chair and jerks it around, so I’m forced to face him. My eyes widen as I brace myself for what’s to come.
“I wasn’t apologizing for that.”
I look up at him, and his eyes are no longer soft. He looks angry—hungry, almost.
“I was apologizing for having to take the fucking phone call.”
“Oh.” I sound weak, but I can’t help it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to say. All I can think about when he stares at me like that is how good it would feel to have his hands all over me.
Shit.
Focus.
Stay focused.
“Ceci,” he growls, leaning his face in closer to mine.
Fuck focused.
“I just want you to know, in case your mind is racing a thousand miles an hour like mine is—that I don’t do this. I don’t go around groping my interns or people I work with.”
I swallow.
I know he’s trying to be genuine, but I just can’t take this serious side of him. It’s making me uncomfortable and antsy.
“Oh, so I get to be your first?” I smirk.
He grabs me harshly and pulls me up, so we’re now standing chest to chest.
“Perhaps you didn’t hear me correctly,” he barks. “I’ve never been like this with someone I work with, and definitely not someone I just met. I was trying to be nice instead of a fucking asshole and tell you so you wouldn’t think I was just using you.”
“Well, aren’t you? I mean, for your…” I look down at his reviving bulge, “needs.”
“I don’t need interns to take care of that for me,” he spits back.
“What makes you think I’m not using you? You think you’re the only person capable of doing so?” I challenge, and I see the amusement in his eyes. He thinks I’m full of shit. So I continue playing. “Women like sex just as much as men do.”
“Is that so?” He grins. “I have yet to meet another woman who can keep up with me.”
My eyes roll. I may not be as experienced as he is in the world of sex, but I’m not afraid to accept his challenge.
“Let me be your first, then.”
Bentley’s mouth slams to mine before I can react. He’s devouring me as if I’m his last meal, and his hands are firm and gripping me tight. I reciprocate his moves, dancing my tongue with his, and grinding my body against his.
I can feel him growing harder and hungrier with need. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling the same way. I’ve never been with a guy before that knew what he was doing, and I have a feeling Bentley knows exactly what he’s doing.
His hands wrap around my waist as he pulls me closer to his chest. Our mouths explore each other, both fighting for the control that we crave, but I surrender and let him take the lead. My body is seizing in about a hundred places as I melt into his touch and lips. Being with a guy that I am so physically attracted to is something new for me. I’ve liked boys before, but never felt this way and to this extent. This must be the difference between a boy and a man—Bentley gave no apologies for his domineering behavior, he took what he wanted, and I willingly gave it.
It’s new, but now that I’ve had a taste, I am more than willing to dive in.
He quickly breaks the kiss, catching his breath against my lips as he rests his forehead on mine. His eyes are closed, and I can tell he’s having a battle with himself, just as I am. Part Devil and Part Angel are having a full-out wrestling match in my head.
The throbbing in between my legs proves which one will win. I’ve never felt such desire before. It’s been awakened…and now it wants to be fed.
He backs away while licking his lips. He never takes his eyes off mine as he makes his way out the door and out of sight. I stand there, wondering if that really just happened.
* * *
Before I leave, I knock on his office door to let him know it’s time for me to go.
He’s sitting in his chair casually, as if he’s been waiting for me.
“I’m…um…heading home now. I scanned in transcripts and decoded some of the files. Perhaps you can teach me something new next week?”
I really meant it as a teaching question, but soon realize he could take it as something else.
“For the job, I mean,” I hastily clarify and he laughs.
“Absolutely. I’ll teach you whatever you want to know.”
“Great.” I smile weakly. “Well, I’ll see you—”
“Wait,” he interrupts. “I set up an email account for you. In case, I need to get in touch with you before next Saturday.”
He holds out a business card where he’s written down the information. I walk toward him and grab it, studying it carefully. “Why would you need to talk to me? I mean, it’s not like I do any real work around here.”
“That may be true, but you are scanning in files that haven’t been evaluated in years. I might need some of your new, profound knowledge.”
He’s eyeing me carefully, and I know he’s full of shit. However, I pocket it willingly and thank him.
“I’ll see you soon, Ceci.” His voice is filled with amusement, but for some reason, I don’t think he’s joking.
In fact, I think he’s dead serious, and that scares the living shit out of me.
CHAPTER 7
Bentley
The Invitation
I wake up Sunday morning with the taste of her still on my lips. I don’t want to go another week without talking to her, so I start thinking of excuses to email her.
My mind is preoccupied the entire time I’m having brunch with my parents. It’s a tradition we do every Sunday, and although it makes me feel like a child that I’m ‘told’ to go, I like that we make time for each other since the rest of the week is busy with work.
Alphas & Millionaires Starter Set Page 47
