Sinful Rewards 10 Read Free

against the mattress. “People depend on me.”
    I depend on him. My mom and Cyndi depend on him. Guilt fills me. He’s talking about us. Hawke is now our sole income earner, providing for three households, a responsibility I thrust on my honorable man.
    â€œI see.” I lower my gaze, ashamed.
    I see he’s risking his life for the dollars we need, carrying this massive burden without any complaints, while I sit on my ass and wait for the paparazzi to disappear, for a prospective employer to call back, to offer me a job.
    I’m a shitty lover. My eyes burn with unshed tears.
    Hawke makes a strangled noise. “Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart.” He presses his lips against my forehead. “I’m not in any danger. This situation occurred overseas. The hostiles are far away.”
    They’re far away today . I jut my jaw. Tomorrow, Hawke could face the enemy.
    Because we need the money.
    â€œI’m your partner, Hawke.” I tilt my chin upward, determined to fix this, to find a way to earn cash quickly so he never has to risk his life again. “You can depend on me.”
    â€œI do depend on you.” He skims his lips over mine.
    â€œI’ll protect you.” I cup his rugged face with my hands, needing to touch him. “But you have to do your part too. Don’t take any unnecessary risks or become distracted.”
    â€œI’ll be careful.” Hawke turns his head to the left and then the right, kissing both of my palms, his expression solemn. “I won’t do anything crazy.”
    He rolls off me and I miss his warmth immediately. “Don’t put yourself in the line of fire either,” I add, thinking of the possibilities.
    â€œNo one will be shooting at me today.” Hawke takes care of the condom. “You don’t have to worry about me.” He struts naked into the bathroom, his ass cheeks clenching and unclenching. “I’ll come back to you.”
    â€œYou’d better come back to me,” I grumble, hugging the pillow. Water runs, my exhibitionistic male showering with the door open, daring me to watch him.
    I wiggle to the foot of the bed and peer into the bathroom, unable to resist the sight of my man standing under the shower, water running over his closely cropped brown hair, his tanned skin, his bulging muscles. Steam softens his rough edges, creating a dreamlike image.
    I’ll do anything to have another moment like this, to keep him safe. The things I previously thought were important—fashion, money, pride, belonging—mean nothing if I lose Hawke.
    To protect him, to give him the ability to turn down high-risk assignments, I have to be his equal and make some money fast. My lips flatten. I know what I must do.

Chapter Two
    I PREPARE FRESHLY squeezed orange juice and bagels spread with cream cheese for both of us. Hawke dresses in his usual hideous black T-shirt, ragged blue jeans, clunky army boots; devours his breakfast in less than a minute; gives me a mind-blowing kiss; and strolls out the door.
    I clean the condo, shower, don a white blouse and black pants, delaying the inevitable until I can’t wait any longer. My designer goods, the gorgeous rewards given to me by Friendly, have to be sold.
    Wishing to hold my beautiful red Salvatore Ferragamo purse in my arms one last time, I remove it carefully from the plastic storage box. God, it’s exquisite. I sit on the bed and pet the luxurious leather, running my fingers over the seams, memorizing every detail, the tiny stitches, the finely crafted handles, the gold zippers, the new-purse scent.
    Tonight, this limited-edition purse will belong to someone else, a woman who can afford both fashion and rent, who doesn’t have to worry about her man taking dangerous missions.
    That woman isn’t me, not yet, perhaps not ever. I straighten my shoulders, pull my laptop closer to me, and submit my listings to a classified ad website