Read Online Wreckless by Zara Cox - Free Book Online Page A

he didn’t want to meet for a drink. He’d sent a crude, succinct reply – throw in a fuck and I’ll think about it.
    Her reply – where and when? - had been immediate and surprised the hell out of him.
    They’d met here ever since, in the penthouse he’d bought for them to live in after they were married but had never had the heart to sell, emotionlessly fucking their brains out every Friday night. The hell remained visible in her eyes; the only time it disappeared was when she was caught in the throes of ecstasy.
    He looked down, surprised his fingers had wound themselves into her hair.
    Shit! He was getting his revenge--every time he made her scream out her orgasm, she paid him back a little for her betrayal. He should be happy.
    He was happy. And when the time came to call a halt to this thing, he’d cut her off without a single thought. Original tit-for-fucking-tat.
    She stirred beneath his hand as it roved over her silky-smooth rump, and he wondered whether to fuck her one last time before she left. His eager cock agreed with an impatient nudge. Hell, yeah.
    Reaching for a condom in the almost-diminished pack, he slipped it on and slid on top of her. Enzo was between her thighs and inside her warm cunt before she came fully awake.
    With a heartfelt sigh, she spread her legs wider for him. Another sigh, a soft dreamy cry of, “Oh, Enzo,” and she was there with him, eager for another mind-blowing ride.
    He must have fallen asleep afterward. Movement around the room pricked his consciousness, and he woke up to find her stepping into her clothes.
    He jerked upright. Had she intended to leave without waking him? The residual anger he’d carried around since he found out about her Vegas trip surged again.
    “What the hell are you doing?”
    She looked up in surprise, then shrugged. “I think it’s obvious, Enzo. I’m getting dressed.”
    “Why?”
    “Because it’s 3:30 a.m., and I have a flight to catch in a few hours.”
    He bit back the harsh words which rose to his lips and swung out of bed. If she wanted to leave, fine. He’d had more than his fill of her for the next seven days.
    “What time do you leave for Vegas?” he asked, pulling on his boxers.
    She shrugged on her jacket. “My flight’s at eleven. I have to be at the airport at ten.” She looked around for her hair clip, gave up, and ran her fingers through her hair.
    The look of exhaustion on her face tugged at something inside that he didn’t want to identify.
    From nowhere, take care of yourself , sprang to his lips, but he forced them down. Why should he care what happened to her in Vegas? What he should be saying was, Make sure you don’t fuck anyone else while you’re in Vegas or this thing between us is over.
    He didn’t say that either. Exclusivity wasn’t part of their deal. Changing the terms of the arrangement now would be unthinkable and smack of weakness on his part.
    But would she? He eyed her, his gaze drawn to the delicate perfection of her face. Would she check into one of those hotels with the sleekly oiled cabana boys and indulge in a quick fuck behind the potted palms? Or would she pick up a guest for a night of mindless screwing?
    Jesus, what the hell was he doing? Jealousy wasn't part of their deal either.
    He pulled on his jeans and yanked up the zipper with more force than necessary. The images his mind threw up caused his jaw to clench in anger.
    So, he didn’t trust her. Damned straight. Look where trust had gotten him last time.
    But it pissed him off at how deeply she’d embedded herself under his skin, so rampantly in his blood that he would count the minutes, hell, the seconds until Friday night rolled around again.
    “You ready?” he snapped, although he saw for himself she was. Her head jerked in his direction and wariness crept into her eyes.
    “Yes. I am.”
    He pulled her to him, rammed a savage kiss on her lips and stepped away. “Let’s go.” Grasping her elbow, he steered her out the door