Handling Cynthia: A Second Chances Novella Read Online Free

look ridiculous with her little black dress.
    "What is your problem?" Rick asked, in answer to her sardonic comment. His eyes twinkled and a faint smile crossed his lips.
    Jordan sat beside her. "Bowling is so provincial."
    "Exactly," Cyn said. "I didn't want to say it, but yes."
    Jordan put his arm around her. "We prefer polo."
    "On Sunday afternoon, while sipping champagne from Baccarat crystal glasses."
    "How about beer in a plastic cup?" Trent offered.
    "No thank you." She turned to Jordan. "Is it wrong that I like nice things?"
    "It's never wrong to be who you are."
    "Aw, you're sweet. I would totally make out with you right now if you were straight." In the corner of her eye, Trent smoothed his tie and fingered the end.
    She was getting to him. Unless she was reading the signals wrong, Trent was still attracted to her. Time to up the stakes.
    She rose and checked out the bowling balls, selecting a black one marbled with purple. "Someone remind me how to play this game."
    "You roll the ball down the lane and knock over the pins."
    "Thanks, Ricky, that's extraordinarily helpful."
    She took Trent's hand and led him to the end of the lane. "Show me. I always throw the ball wrong."
    "Okay, give me the ball—"
    "No, I mean…" Facing the pins, she stood in front of him and maneuvered his left arm around her waist. "Use your right hand to guide mine."
    "Um, yeah. Okay." With his chest to her back, he held on to her right wrist. Her body clenched with desire, and she fought to suppress a shudder. His breath tickled her neck.
    "First, you don't throw it. You roll it. In fact, you don't even do that. You swing your arm toward the center mark and release the ball." He guided her arm back and then forward. "Swing and release. Got it?"
    "Mm-hmm." She leaned back against him and said in his ear, "Swing and release." His sharp intake of breath accompanied a rising bulge in his pants.
    Oh yeah, he still wants me.
    It wasn't fair to torture him, to make him hard in public. She cantered her hips away. With his hand still on hers, she aimed the ball and let it roll from her grip.
    The ball rumbled over the polished hardwood. With a hollow crack, the pins fell. A seven-ten split.
    "Ooh, that's a shame," Rick said.
    She turned, Trent's arms falling away, and looked hard into Rick's eyes. "Why is that a shame? I knocked down eight pins."
    "Because you won't be able to get the spare."
    "I wasn't going to get the spare anyway. I suck at this game." She set her hands on her hips. "And yet you dragged me here—when I could be in a ballroom with hotel quality hors d'oeuvres instead of nacho chips and cheese sauce."
    Rick scowled. He walked up and pulled her close. It still felt natural, being cradled in his arms, looking up at those soft brown eyes, the curve of his lips.
    The hint of a baby face he'd had when she met him sophomore year was gone now, replaced by high cheekbones and a strong chin. He was taller, his shoulders broader. All man.
    "You never complained like this when we were dating," he flirted.
    "We're not dating anymore."
    He ground his pelvis against hers. "You know you still want it."
    The rhythm of his body sent a flush through her, a conditioned response, more habit than desire. Unlike Trent, Rick wasn't hard.
    With a giggle, she pulled away. "You're an asshole." She looked into his smiling face, and a longing squeezed her chest. Rick had always made her laugh. Beneath his brash posturing, he was one of the sweetest guys she'd ever known. "I've missed you."
    His teasing eyes softened, glistening in the bright light. "You too."
    "Enough of the love fest," Bernie called from the next lane over. "Someone fucking bowl."
    ***
    Trent eyed Cyn, unsure what to make of her. When she had pressed her ass against his dick that way—she had to know what she was doing. She had to feel him getting hard. But it seemed like she was flirting with Rick and Jordan too, so he shouldn't make anything of it, right?
    Cyn was no tease. Jordan was