SINFUL REWARDS is book one in the BILLIONAIRES AND BIKERS series of twelve novellas that will be published over the course of a year.
Belinda "Bee" Carter lives in a condo with her best friend Cyndi; a very wealthy girl. Bee is poor but stylish; she dreams of great clothes, and lovely things. She works in the glamorous part of Chicago, in a rather dreary office, and in a few days, she will know if her job will be a permanent one; although there is another candidate, she is sure her boss will pick her. Bee grew up in a broken home and in abject poverty, and she is determined not to repeat her mother's mistakes. She is a hard worker, she's is dependable, conscientious, and dedicated; she will be successful.
And Bee likes to watch. Cyndi recently bought a telescope; one day Bee notices the sexy neighbour in the condo next door; she can't resist, she peeks. And looks, and gawks. The gorgeous neighbour, Hawke, is totally naked. And he notices her watching him. And she wants him, badly.
The owner of the condo complex where Bee lives is Nicolas Rainer, a billionaire. Bee has noticed him, and she has decided he is the One for her. He's rather mysterious, reserved, and very business- like; they are so much alike, in a way. Bee knows he sits in a little green space adjacent to her condo every day and does some paperwork; he never misses a day, his schedule never varies; he's as methodical as Bee. But one day, he forgets his phone when he leaves. Of course, Bea hurries to get Nicolas' phone before it's stolen to give it back to him. Will she finally get to meet her handsome billionaire...
SINFUL REWARDS represents the beginning of a herculean task for a single author: a novella each month for a year, but after this first instalment, no need to worry. I was very much looking forward to this new book, and it turned out even better than I expected! Ms. Sax always displays admirable writing techniques: her grammar, syntax, and vocabulary are always flawless; stylistically, she is always impeccable: the tone of voice always fits each character perfectly, as do they quirks and mannerisms, and the narrative style differs from the dialogue. In SINFUL REWARDS the author is at the top of her form and it's a joy to read from page one. The cliff-hangers are part of the deal, I expect them, and it's fine that way, because I'll be looking forward to at least one very special treat each month for a year!
Belinda "Bee" Carter is a good girl; at least, that's what
she tells herself. And a good girl deserves a nice guyβjust
like the gorgeous and moody billionaire Nicolas Rainer. He
is everything she wants in a man.
Or so she thinks, until she takes a look through her
telescope and sees a naked, tattooed man on the balcony
across the courtyard. Hawke is mysterious, the bad boy she
knows will bring only heartbreak. He has been watching her,
and that makes him all the more enticing.
But when a mysterious and anonymous text message dares her
to do something bad, she must decide if she is really the
good girl she has always claimed to be, or if she's willing
to risk everything for her secret fantasy of being watched.
Is her mystery man the reclusive billionaire with a wild
side or the darkly dangerous bad boy?
Voices murmur outside the condoβs door, the sound piercing
my delightful daydream. I swing the telescope upward, not
wanting to be caught using it. The snippets of conversation
drift away.
I donβt relax. If the telescope isnβt in the same spot as it
was positioned last night, Cyndi will realize Iβve been
using it. Sheβll tease me about being a fellow pervert,
sharing the story, embellished for more dramatic effect,
with her stern serious dad or, worse, with Angel, that
snobby friend of hers.
Iβll die. Itβll be worse than being the butt of jokes in
high school because that ridicule had been about my clothes
and this will center around the part of my soul Iβve always
kept hidden. Itβll also be the truth and I wonβt be able to
deny it. I am a pervert.
I have to return the telescope to where it was positioned.
This is the only acceptable solution. I tap the metal tube.
Last night, my man-crazy roommate had been giggling over the
new guy in three eleven north. The previous occupant had
been a gray-haired, bowtie-wearing tax auditor, his
luxurious accommodations supplied by Nicolas. The most
exciting thing he ever did was drink his tea on the balcony.
According to Cyndi, the new occupant is a delicious piece of
man candy, tattooed, buff, and head-to-toe lickable. Heβd
been completing arm curls outside and sheβd enthusiastically
counted his reps, oohing and aahing over his bulging biceps,
calling to me to take a look.
Iβd resisted that temptation, focusing on making macaroni
and cheese for the two of us, the recipe snagged from the
diner my mom works in. After we scarfed down dinner with
Cyndi licking her plate clean, she left for the club and
hasnβt returned.
Three eleven north is the mirror condo to ours. I straighten
the telescope. That position looks about right but then, the
imitation UGGS I bought in second year college looked about
right also. The first time I wore the boots in the rain, the
sheepskin fell apart, leaving me barefoot in Economics 201.
Unwilling to risk Cyndiβs friendship on about right, I gaze
through the eyepiece. The view consists of rippling golden
planes, almost likeβ¦
Tanned skin pulled over defined abs.
I blink. It canβt be. I take another look. A perfect pearl
of perspiration clings to a puckered scar. The drop
elongates more and more, stretching, snapping. It trickles
downward, navigating the swells and valleys of a manβs honed
torso.
No. I straighten. This is wrong. I shouldnβt watch our sexy
neighbor as he stands on his balcony. If anyone catches meβ¦
I glance behind me. Thereβs no one here to catch me. Cyndi
wonβt know I looked. The hunk in three eleven north wonβt
know I looked. Iβm not harming anyone.
I bend over and take another peek.
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