Read Online Reckless: A Bad Boy Sport Romance by Christina Clark - Free Book Online Page B

reached for his waist, returning him to his previous position. Xavier cocked his head back, his face falling. He jerked away from me, but I'd already seen it, clear as day. That reddish-pink splotch of a hickey and what looked to be the moldings of a bite mark on his left butt cheek.
    “What's that?”
    “It's nothing,” said Xavier quickly, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “Must be some bug bite from when I went out camping with the guys.”
    “You mean when you went to Sequoia 4 months ago?” I pushed myself to my feet, staring hard at him. “Might wanna get that checked out, then. That thing must be infected if it's been ailing you for so long.”
    “Whatever. Screw this. You've killed the mood,” Xavier groused, flouncing away from me. “I'm gonna jack off in the shower. Come join me when you decide you want to stop being a a bitch.”
    When I heard the bang of the slamming bathroom door, I was more stupefied by his sheer nerve than I was with what I'd just unwittingly walked into. It was like I'd surpassed all possible levels of anger and was now just curious as to what else I'd been so blind to all this time. As the shower hissed and smoke floated out from under the bathroom door, I walked over to Xavier's phone, perched on the edge of the coffee table.
    The thin, lightweight phone felt so foreign in my hands. I swiped right, shaking my head as I unlocked his phone. The arrogance of his password-less phone was just more salt to the wound.
    For the next 5 minutes or so, I scrolled through the graphic messages flooding his account from different women. I swiped past more images of Xavier's dick and random titties and asses than I could count. Another treasure trove came in the form of the 5 or so hook-up and dating apps he actively used on his phone. The list went on and on, each undeniable date stamp hitting me like an extra punch in the gut.

Chapter Twelve: Ace
     
    2016
     
    I tipped back my flask. The warm, oaky liquor swashed down my throat. When I lowered my flask, my ears were buzzing and the ground was swaying underneath me. I held my head upright determinedly, blinking until it stopped moving and the buzzing toned down a notch.
    I ran a tongue over my lips, cherishing every drop. This was the first drink I'd had in 4 and a half days, and boy, that felt good. I screwed the cap of my flask back on and slipped it inside the coat of my black suit, saving the rest for later. God knows I'm gonna need it.
    A newly-waxed Bentley Continental in white rolled up to the curb. Whitaker popped out of the passenger seat, looking like a giant fire hydrant in his red suit. Heaving a deep breath, I straightened my black tie and walked over to the car.
    “Hey, Warner, you gotta thank your cousin, Vinny, for us for hooking us up with this sweet ass ride.” Whitaker grinned at me as he opened the rear door. “Why don't you text me his address – I'd love to send the man a couple of steaks.”
    “Will do.”
    “Yo, what's good, Warner? You ready to go?”
    Hardwick and Baldwin nodded at me from the back of the car.
    “Where's Armstrong?”
    “He called, told us to to leave without him. He's hitching a ride with Cortez instead,” said Whitaker. “Anyway, wanna ride shotgun? Least I could do, man, if you're still hosting that after party –”
    “Naw, you go ahead. I'll ride in the back with these geezers.”
    I hopped into the backseat, slammed the door, and strapped myself in. As the car started moving, my head slumped back on the headrest. I leaned my head against the wall, the vibrations from the speaker bass thumping against my face.
    “Alright, Mr. Wilcox, we're all set,” said Whitaker eagerly from the front seat. He rubbed his hands together. “You can go straight to Bill Graham Civic.”
    “Very good, sir.”
    I kept my face a blank slate, but I was seething at the peppy excitement in Whitaker's voice. Motherfucker was glowing. The Bay Area has always ranked top 5 in my favorite places to party,