Handling Cynthia: A Second Chances Novella

by Dalling, Andrea

  Cyn stilled, hearing the break in his voice. Damn it, she hated that he was upset, and she could do nothing about it. Taking care of him had once been what fulfilled her most.

  But she wasn't his girlfriend anymore.

  ***

  In the restaurant's dim light, the hostess led the foursome to a black-lacquered, square table topped with glass. An ivory candle lit the fall-themed centerpiece, a mini pumpkin and an ear of blue corn.

  The waiter brought their drinks. Trent sipped his beer as he scanned the menu. Not a single entrée under twenty-five dollars.

  Rick had apparently picked the place to impress Cyn, which was fine for people drawing a salary. His grant and stipend covered tuition and living expenses but didn't leave much room for dinner at upscale restaurants.

  He turned to Cyn. "See anything you like?"

  "The ten ounce strip steak, except I can only eat a third of it. Want to split it with me?"

  "Good idea." He closed the menu with a quick exhale.

  Cyn's gaze wandered to Rick, sitting on her other side. She drew in her shoulders and lowered her eyes. Rubbing the heel of her hand, she gave a little sigh. Trent could see the struggle in her, and he sucked back a smile.

  "You seemed upset in the car," she said to Rick, "about Jessica."

  He looked at her intently. He set down his menu and leaned toward her. "The other women I've dated, we parted on good terms. I was proud of that. I totally screwed this one up. I let her fall in love with me, when I didn't feel the same."

  "It happens, honey. It doesn't make you a bad person."

  "She thinks I used her." His voice grew taut. "Says I manipulate people."

  Trent chuckled. Jordan turned red, fighting back a laugh. Rick's cheeks paled and his eyes went wide.

  Cyn pulled her chair next to him and held his hands. "You don't consciously use people. You persuade them. Weren't you named the top new salesman in your region last year?"

  "In my division, yeah. I worked hard so I could get the transfer to Allentown. But I don't manipulate my customers. I help them find the right solution, for the best price."

  "Of course you do. You would never take advantage of someone. Not intentionally."

  "But I hurt Jess."

  She shrugged. "Sometimes relationships don't work out."

  "I didn't realize how serious she was until it was too late. And then I tried to make it work, but I couldn't."

  Jordan's water glass jingled against his beer mug as he picked it up and took a long draft. Rick's mood must have worn off on him, because Jordan looked ashen, his eyes moist.

  Rick cleared his throat, his gaze lowered. Cyn leaned over and kissed his cheek.

  Damn it. Trent wanted to be angry at her for that, but he couldn't. He'd never seen Rick so wrung out.

  "Jess is wrong about you," Cyn said. "Besides, if you'd given it another six months, you'd have done something to piss her off and make her want to dump you."

  "That's true. I'm a selfish bastard."

  "Maybe sometimes. But you're also caring and protective."

  "The most loyal person I know," Jordan said hurriedly. "You'd do anything for your friends."

  "Yeah, I would." Rick met Jordan's eyes.

  The blood returned to Jordan's face, followed by a soft smile.

  Trent scowled. Cyn was right. Something was up with those two. "You guys are acting weird."

  Rick tensed. Jordan grinned and raised his brows.

  "Are you going to tell us what you're fighting about?" Cyn asked.

  Jordan rotated his beer mug, staring into the amber liquid. "Rick wants to move in with me while he looks for a new place in Allentown."

  Rick perked up. "Yeah, and Jordy doesn't want me to because…"

  "Because my design studio is in the spare bedroom. There's no room for him. Besides, his company will put him up in temporary housing for a month."

  "Which will be lonely and boring. And he lives ten minutes from my new office." Rick's mouth turned downward, and he looked at Jordan. "I'd rather sleep on your floor than in a hotel room bed."

  Trent took a gulp of beer. "No, you're not manipulative."

  "What? It's the truth."

  The waiter came and took their order. Cyn moved her chair back into place. Trent watched her from the corner of his eye, assessing her demeanor toward Rick. She hadn't crossed the line from friendship to flirtation, at least not yet. But the meal had just begun.

  ***

  Cyn cut into her steak and wrinkled her nose. Medium well. Trent had insisted, because undercooked steak could carry disease. She loved that he was looking out for her, but…it seemed a shame to grill the life out of a gorgeous hunk of beef.

  Still, the texture was like butter and the seasonings popped in her mouth. "Mmm." The sound slipped out of her involuntarily.

  Trent gave her an I-told-you-so-grin. He caressed her forearm, and a shudder of desire rocked her.

  She looked over at Rick and Jordan, but they were absorbed in conversation. Good. She didn't want them to see how Trent affected her.

  Maybe she was being overly sensitive about that. Rick's mood had lifted. He'd stepped outside to make a phone call during the salad course, and Jordan checked up on him a few minutes later. When they came back, Rick looked happy and excited. Better than she'd seen him all weekend.

  Was it time to tell them she and Trent were a couple? For that matter, were they a couple? So far, they were a hookup, bordering on a fling. Too soon to call it a relationship.

  She knew Trent wanted to tell them. But really, she was looking out for him more than herself. He and Rick still hung out every few weeks. With Trent dating Rick's ex, that could change things between them. Guys had some kind of code, didn't they?

  Her skin prickled. This should be Trent's call. The realization crept over her. She wasn't protecting Trent's relationship with Rick. She was protecting her own.

  Her heart grew heavy. Trent was right: she and Rick had been flirting. Even though neither of them meant it, the interplay was reassuring. When Rick looked at her with that same admiring gaze that had made her melt at sixteen, she felt powerful.

  It wasn't fair to Trent. True surrender meant she belonged to him and only him.

  She looked over at Rick, envying the medium rare tenderloin that came with his surf and turf. Not to mention the broiled lobster tail.

  He smiled. "Want a bite?" He tore off a piece of lobster with his fork and held it up to her.

  Her mouth watered. Would Trent mind? It was just a taste, after all. She let Rick feed her, savoring the earthy sweetness and the hint of drawn butter.

  "Mm, that is yummy." She sipped her water. "Broiled to perfection."

  "You always said lobster was better than sex."

  She raised her brows. "Better than sex with you, at least."

  Rick leaned in and met her eyes, his voice sultry. "I'll take that challenge."

  "Really? You want to prove you can do better?"

  "We were kids, Cyn. Fumbling around. Of course I can do better."

  "I never complained. I'm just saying, that's really good lobster."

  Trent's hand on her knee brought her attention back to him. She sucked in her lower lip.

  Damn it.

  The memory of the spanking he'd given her that morning tensed her muscles. She'd resented it at the time, but now, she longed for that feeling of being mastered. Images swam through her mind: Trent making her face the wall, or tying her to the bed, or maybe binding her wrists to the shower rod. Apprehension knotted her stomach, and desire pulsed through her. She gulped, her body trembling. She sipped her water to regain her composure.

  Trent stroked her shoulder, and she bowed her head.

  "You okay?" Rick's voice pulled her eyes toward him.

  "She's fine," Trent said.

  "What is your problem? She's upset."

  "No, I'm fine, really."

  "You don't have to worry about her. I've got this. Cyn's with me now."

 
; Rick's jaw stiffened, and his Adam's apple bobbed. "What do you mean, with you?"

  "Just what I said."

  Rick's face flushed. "Since when?"

  "Since last night."

  Rick turned to Cyn. "This true?"

  Her mouth grew dry. The cold hardness in his face made her tremble. "Sort of."

  Trent squeezed her hand.

  She swallowed. "I mean, yes. It's new, and we're still figuring things out, but yes." An inadvertent smile crept over her face.

  Rick looked back at Trent. "Did you make a move on her in high school?"

  "I never touched her while you two were together."

  "Ricky." Jordan touched Rick's shoulder. "It was a long time ago. Be happy for them."

  "Cyn doesn't look happy."

  "Because you're upset, and she's worried," Jordan said. "Tell her it's okay."

  "This what you want?" he asked her.

  Her breath stopped. She wanted to speak, but her mind couldn't process the question. No matter what she said, it would make someone unhappy. Trent or Rick. She had to choose.

  Trent's hand grew clammy in hers. She looked over to see him staring into his plate. He needed her reassurance. Rick was angry, but Trent was hurting.

  "Yes. I want a future with Trent."

  In her mind, a door slammed shut. She was no longer the girl she had been at eighteen. Time to let go of it all, good and bad. Rick had been the balm that eased her through the rough times, but she didn't need that anymore. She wasn't trapped in a life dictated by her parents. She was her own woman, free to choose. And she chose Trent, she chose submission. Because that's what she wanted for herself, for Cynthia, and no one could stop her from living the kinky, non–politically correct life she desired.

  Trent rested his hand on her knee, his thumb stroking the soft flesh inside her thigh. Her heart opened, and her head grew light. Flying. It was that feeling she'd had in high school, when love was new. Except with Trent, it wasn't just new, it was right. Tears sprang to her eyes, relief that she'd found her way back to him. Reality was so much better than fantasy could be. Of course they had things to work out—why had she let that worry her? She was with him, and he adored her, and that was what mattered.

  She looked at Rick. "I was never unfaithful to you."

  Rick nodded. "It's weird, that's all. I can't picture you two together."

  "I can picture it," Jordan said. "Eww, girl parts."

  She threw a roll at him across the table.

  Rick's brow furrowed, and he turned his gaze to Jordan. "Did you suspect this?"

  "You are so clueless." Jordan shook his head.

  Rick sat up and jutted out his chin. "I'm not clueless about you."

  Jordan punched Rick's shoulder and smiled.

  Cyn had no idea what that meant, but if Rick and Jordan were friends again, she was happy.

  Rick turned to her and grinned. "Mom is going to be disappointed you're taken."

  "Maybe not. It means I'll have an excuse to come visit now, like when I'm in town for the holidays with Trent's family."

  "The fearsome foursome is back together," Jordan said.

  Trent scowled. "Just so there's no confusion, there will be no group sex. Cyn is mine."

  Jordan gave him a smirk. "I don’t think there was any confusion about that, dickhead."

  She squeezed Rick's hands. "So you're okay about this?"

  "Of course. But if he hurts you, I'll kick his ass."

  "Trent won't hurt me." Trust sang in her heart, and her shoulders straightened. For the first time, she felt at peace with this place, this town that had confused and overwhelmed her as a teenager. Those old feelings cracked apart and fell away like a chrysalis, releasing her into her new life, a life of confidence, a life with Trent. She was free to be true to herself and her desires, and she wouldn't let fear hold her back any longer.

  Chapter 11

  In her hotel room, Cyn changed into a deep purple negligee and ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it. Last night with Trent, it was such a relief to let go of her worries and follow his orders. No need to figure it out. Just hear and obey. The thought filled her breasts to firmness, aching nipples pressing against lace.

  He had asked her to trust him, and so she would turn off her thoughts to give him control. The relentless chatter in her head was stopping her from enjoying the moment. Surrendering to Trent would solve that problem.

  She took a black bag of toys from her suitcase and set it on the desk. Trent had been pleased when she told him about it. Unzipping it, she gazed inside at a length of nylon rope, wrist restraints, a blindfold, a flogger, and a crop. Her fingers caressed the leather, loving the smooth feel and craving the sting of it.

  She sat on the bed and waited, trying not to think about the punishment to come. The thought aroused her, but a thread of annoyance wove through the other sensations. Instead of trying to suppress it, she allowed it to wash over her.

  She hadn't been disloyal to Trent. A grown-up, independent woman should be able to joke around with an ex, without inciting her boyfriend's jealousy. Trent was being ridiculous, but because he made the rules, she would have to submit to the punishment.

  And yet…she had agreed to the rules. He had warned her of the consequences. Informed and complicit, she had slipped, engaging in behavior she knew would displease him.

  Shame warmed her skin. She drew an unsteady breath to slow the thudding of her heart. Although she feared the penalty she would pay for her disobedience, she ached for it all the same. The longer he made her wait, the more her clit throbbed with anticipation.

  A loud click signaled his key card unlocking her door. Her stomach cart-wheeled. She sank to her knees, head bowed, eyes lowered, wrists crossed behind her back. The Berber carpet was rough against her flesh.

  He entered and approached. He laid his hand against her cheek, brushing his thumb across her lips. His touch sent a thrill to her stomach.

  "Beautiful Cyn. The sight of you on your knees for me…I'm humbled by this gift. I can't wait to give you pleasure, to show you how desirable you are."

  "Thank you, sir."

  "I'm going to test you tonight. I expect absolute obedience." He lifted her chin so she could meet his eyes. "Do you understand?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Good."

  She swallowed, her body shrinking at his stern tone. Maybe once they knew each other better, got into a rhythm, these games would be fun. For now, it was nerve wracking, knowing she'd have to stay focused to understand what he wanted and to comply with his demands. He wouldn't be patient after she'd pushed his boundaries all day. Now was the time for him to take his power back.

  "You displeased me this evening. The way you behaved with Rick—it seems you still have feelings for him."

  "No, sir. I'm sorry if it seemed that way."

  "I expect you to prove that. To show you belong completely to me."

  "Yes, sir, happily."

  "Good. Get undressed."

  With a hint of irritation she didn't dare show, she took off the beaded silk negligee she'd spent an hour picking out in an upscale boutique. She folded it, then faced him, naked while he stood fully clothed. Her vulnerability sent a heady mix of shame and desire pulsing through her.

  He kissed her neck, hands roaming over her body. Every touch, every glide of his tongue, heightened her desire. His mouth found her nipple, and the sensation engorged her clit. She clutched his head in her hands, pressing into him.

  "You like that, baby?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Want me to make you come?"

  "Please, sir."

  He stood upright and picked up the rope. "First things first. Arms out in front, wrists together."

  Her tongue shriveled like an autumn leaf. She obeyed, pressing her lips together as he bound her. The rope was tight, but no so much that it cut off her circulation. He tested the knots, and they held.

  Her breath grew ragged, and her eyes burned with humiliation. She wanted t
o beg for a reprieve. It was all too much, this feeling that she had displeased him, that he had authority over her body, that she had no choice but to obey.

  "Go and face the wall," he ordered.

  She trembled, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

  He took her in his arms. "Shh. I know this is frightening. The punishment will be harsh, but when it's over, things will be right between us again."

  She relaxed into his powerful grip, breathed his spicy scent, losing herself in the sensation of him. Her breath evened out. "Yes, sir."

  "Go," he repeated.

  Knees weak, head down, she faced the rippled, tan hotel wallpaper. Her jaw grew heavy as she braced herself for what was to come. Would he use the crop, or maybe the flogger? Her heart knocked in her chest until her ribs ached.

  "You knew what I expected of you this evening, and you disobeyed. You flirted with Rick, and I won't tolerate that." He ran his hand over her back calmly and soothingly, reaching down and squeezing her bottom. "You're so soft, so beautiful. I treasure you, Cynthia. But you must never forget your promises to me."

  In her peripheral vision, he took off his shirt, exposing hard pecs and firm abs. Desire flowed through her as his musk filled her nostrils. Thick muscular arms warned of the pain he could inflict.

  He folded his shirt and set it on the dresser. Then, he removed his belt and doubled it over. He didn't set it down as she expected. A chill like cold rain rushed down her spine.

  "Trent!" she cried.

  "Silence. You've been a naughty girl. This is the price."

  Her heart thumped wildly. A scream sat in her throat, ready to unfurl. He wouldn't really do this, would he?

  Tears sprang to her eyes. No one had ever struck her with a belt before. "Please, I don't want this."

  He stroked her hair. "Do you remember your safe word?"

  "Yes, sir."

  He kissed her neck. "I love you, Cyn. I'm not doing this to hurt you, but to remind you of your duty to me."

  She nodded and swallowed hard. Instinctively, her wrists pulled at their bindings, but there was no play in them. She was utterly in his power.

  He continued to rub her back. "Do you need a minute?"