Sinful Rewards 1 Read Online Free PDF Page A

wants to see you.” Dru touches her right index finger to the corner of her lips, drawing my attention to the drop of liquid clinging to her freckled skin.
    It’s very similar to the drop of liquid I saw beaded on the tip of the tattooed stranger’s huge cock. I stare at her mouth. It’s almost identical.
    Which means . . .
    Nothing. I shake myself. Because this is Dru, and Dru is skilled at deception. Just last Wednesday, she slipped a gold pen into my purse and then told our boss I was stealing office supplies. Mr. Peterson believed me when I said I wasn’t. He deserves my loyalty now. I meet Dru’s gaze squarely.
    â€œI’m willing to do whatever it takes to land this job.” She smirks.
    Is sucking off our boss something she’s willing to do? Maybe. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her, and she’s a foot taller than I am.
    But Mr. Peterson would have to cooperate, and our rule-following manager lives and breathes the employee handbook. Clause 3.2 clearly states there is to be no fraternization between employees. He would never violate that rule.
    Dru is merely making trouble, starting more hurtful rumors, and I’d be an idiot to listen to her. “You won’t land this job.” I stand, knowing this for a fact. “It will be awarded to the most capable employee. Mr. Peterson is a smart man. He knows which one of us has worked hard and which one of us hasn’t.”
    â€œYou’re so naïve, Bee.” Dru laughs. “Greg may be a smart man . . .”
    I grit my teeth. I hate it when she calls Mr. Peterson by his first name, as though he’s a friend and not our boss. It’s disrespectful.
    â€œBut he’s still a man,” she continues, her tone condescending. “Men want only one thing, and that isn’t a hardworking employee.”
    â€œI guess we’ll find out on Friday if you’re right.” Arguing with Dru is a waste of time. I know the truth. That’s good enough for me. I straighten my shoulders and march into Mr. Peterson’s office.
    Our manager leans back in his chair, the desk in front of him cluttered with paper. His ink-stained fingers are linked over his rounding stomach, his eyes are half-closed, and his expression is drowsy.
    I smother a laugh. If there was ever a man least likely to be an office lothario, it is Mr. Peterson. His brown hair is starting to thin, his complexion is ruddy, and his suits never fit him, the sleeves a little too long, the pants a little too short.
    Dru’s aspersions about his character are ridiculous. She’s desperate because she knows I’m the employee he’s hiring full-time on Friday.
    â€œYou wanted to see me, sir?” I smile, eager to please him, to be everything he wants, to show him that he’s making the right decision by choosing me.
    My boss’s gaze lifts slowly. “Please sit down, Belinda.” He waves at one of the mismatched guest chairs.
    I perch on the edge of the nearest seat, my hands folded on my lap, a smile fixed on my face, and I wait for his next words. I’d sent over eight hundred applications to various Chicago-area organizations before Mr. Peterson took a chance on me. Patience is one of my strengths.
    â€œWhat’s the status of the mailings?” Mr. Peterson meets my gaze.
    â€œThe last reminder notice should be sent today, two full days ahead of schedule,” I share proudly. I will have addressed all but two of the notices, conquering both Dru’s list and my own.
    â€œGood.” My boss nods. “I’m impressed with your work ethic. You should be very successful in life.”
    My smile wavers. This sounds as if I’m leaving. “I’ll be very successful here, sir. I’m fully committed to the organization.”
    â€œYes, ummm . . .” His gaze shifts from mine as though he doubts my words. He shouldn’t. I’ve worked my ass off, coming in early,