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I’ve shared the first two scenes from Sinful Rewards 1.
Today, I’m sharing the third scene.
I gaze through the eyepiece. The view consists of rippling golden planes, almost like. . .
Tanned skin pulled over defined abs.
I blink. It can’t 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 man’s honed torso.
No. I straighten. This is wrong. I shouldn’t watch our sexy neighbor as he stands on his balcony. If anyone catches me. . .
I glance behind me. There’s no one here to catch me. Cyndi won’t know I looked. The hunk in three eleven north won’t know I looked. I’m not harming anyone.
I bend over and take another peek.
The sunlight casts interesting shadows across his stomach, accentuating the ridges of muscle, the dip of his navel. I dart my tongue over my suddenly dry lips. His skin is marred with silver scars, some round, some slashes, this proof of hard living, of survival, arousing me, tightening my nipples and moistening my pussy.
I shouldn’t lust after him. He’s the wrong kind of man, the leaving kind, too virile and feral to stay in one place for long. I can tell this from his stance, from his brazen exhibitionism. He wants me to look at him, to care for him. I tilt the telescope downward. His hips are slim. More scars are etched along the bones. Fine brown hair trails from his navel to. . .
My mouth drops open. He’s completely naked. And he’s erect. The biggest, thickest cock I’ve ever seen juts from brown curls. I adjust the zoom. A dab of precum glistens on his tip. Veins lift on his shaft. His balls hug his base.
He’s proud and strong and defiantly free, everything I’ve ever secretly yearned to be, the type of man the women in my family have always been attracted to, the type of man I should never have. I want him, need him, my body shaking with desire.
I can’t have him. I won’t make my mom’s mistakes, won’t settle for less than forever. My resolve doesn’t stop me from looking, from perusing him slowly, thoroughly, memorizing every inch of his glorious form, committing his fit physique to memory. I lower the telescope. His muscles are defined, his knees striped with silver and his feet braced apart as though he is preparing for an attack.
I’ll dream of his legs between my thighs, of his hips slamming against mine, his massive cock filling me, stretching me to the point of pain. He’ll drive into me hard and fast, and I’ll grip his back, digging my fingernails into his skin, holding on with everything I have as he ravishes me.
I tremble, my arousal uncomfortable and unnerving. I’ve seen naked men. I’m not a virgin. But I’ve never had such an instant reaction to a man, not even to Nicolas.
Because I haven’t seen Nicolas naked. Ignoring my feelings of guilt, of disloyalty, I allow my gaze to travel up the stranger’s body, over his thighs, groin, stomach, chest. A thick scar slashes through his right nipple and four letters are tattooed over his left pec—USMC—United States Marine Corps. He’s a military man, trained to protect, to kill. This should dampen my unseemly fascination with him.
I want him even more.
A larger tattoo stretches over his collarbone, the design depicting a sun framed by a pair of wings, the ink black and gray and achingly beautiful. The feathers are finely detailed, the softness appearing out of place on such a hard body.
The stranger’s spine is straight, his shoulders squared and his arms raised. A third tattoo encircles one huge bicep, the barbed wire in black ink serving as a warning. Danger. Do not enter. A wise woman would heed this sign.
I should heed this sign. I should look away. I can’t; my gaze is drawn to him. The man’s chin is square, brown stubble shadowing his golden skin. His nose is flattened, his nostrils are flared, his—
I step backward, my heart pounding. No, my luck can’t be that bad. I look into the telescope once more. It is that bad. Military-style binoculars cover the man’s eyes. These lenses are pointed directly at me.
He’s watching me. I move away from the window, retreating into the shadows. He saw me looking at him. He knows. Heat rushes over me, making the world spin. This stranger knows I’m a pervert. He knows I’m not the good girl I’ve allowed others to believe. If he tells Cyndi, Mr. Wynters, anyone. . .
I hold my breath, count to five, and release it, repeating the action until the fog surrounding me dissipates and my rational thought returns. He won’t tell anyone, and if he does, who will believe him? He’s standing on his balcony naked. This fact alone disqualifies him as a credible source.
Not that gossip ever originates from credible sources. I twist my lips, disgusted with myself for making this error. This is why I shouldn’t take risks. I take one look through the telescope and I get caught. My mom has one wild night with a bad boy and she conceives me.
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Sinful Rewards 1
Cynthia Sax
Belinda “Bee” Carter is a good girl; at least, that’s what she tells herself. And a good girl deserves a nice guy—just 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?
Buy Links:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sinful-Rewards-1-Cynthia-Sax-ebook/dp/B00I7V89H0
Barnes And Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sinful-rewards-1-cynthia-sax/1119055390
Google: https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Cynthia_Sax_Sinful_Rewards_1?id=g08ZAwAAQBAJ
iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/sinful-rewards-1/id814148703?mt=11
