His Off Limits Best Friend - Vivian Wood Page 0,1

before five,” he said.

“Oh, I know you will. Because I’m sure Sharon is just bursting at the seams to tie the knot with her meal ticket.”

“It’s Sandra,” he said, curtly.

“You just make one bang-up mistake after another, don’t you? First the SEALs, now her,” his father said with a deep sigh. “Although, you can’t really compare the two. The SEALs worked out for you, but that was sheer luck. You won’t be so fortunate this time around.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Connor said. He looked at the black screen of his phone. “I’m getting a call, I need to take this.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s wildly important. Don’t be late,” his father warned.

Connor’s knuckles didn’t return to normal from their blazing white color until he was safely parked at Sandra’s condo. He jogged up the stairs, foregoing the elevator. At least someone will be truly happy to see me, he thought.

As he walked down the familiar hall, he pulled out the spare key Sandra had given him when he’d returned. “My place is yours,” she’d told him with a smile. He debated where to take her for a surprise lunch. Luke’s Lobster Penn Quarter, or maybe Bub and Pop’s? He loved that she didn’t need to be constantly wined and dined, unimpressed by his family’s money.

When Connor walked into her condo, he froze at the door. A large man with skin the color of obsidian stood in the living room holding his shirt up to display perfectly carved abs. The man’s trousers were at his ankles. Sandra was on her knees, going to town on the man’s cock. Her red nails dug into the man’s thighs.

“What the fuck?” he said, involuntarily taking a couple of steps back.

“Jesus,” Sandra said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “What are you doing here—”

“Who the fuck is this?” the man asked, yanking up his pants.

“Who am I? I’m her fucking fiancé,” Connor said.

The man’s eyes grew wide. “I’m out of here,” he told both of them. As he squeezed by Connor in the hallway, he got a whiff of sex and L’Homme Ultime. By the time he turned back to Sandra, she’d already turned on the waterworks.

“Oh no,” he said. “Don’t you go turning this around—”

“Turning this around?” she said, tears gushing down her cheeks. She choked, struggling to find her words. “How can you say that? You can’t even give me a chance to… to…”

“To what?” he asked. “Finish him off? Swallow? What are you trying to say, Sandra?” He leaned against the console table and hung his head. But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Sandra once again on her knees.

“You’re such a jerk!” she shouted while snot bubbled at her nose. “You only like me for my looks, you’re always getting inappropriate with me, and now you’re trying to make it sound like—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked as he looked at her pointedly. The anger bubbled inside him and threatened to spill out. Calm. Stay calm.

“You barely know anything about me!” she yelled. “It’s not exactly cheating when you know the other person only wants you to be a nice little military wife.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Connor asked quietly. The rage burned deep inside. “I come here and find you blowing some guy, and suddenly it’s my fault? You’re a real piece of work, you know that? My father was right about you.”

Connor couldn’t stop the words from coming. He hated himself, hated his father, and hated Sandra for doing this.

“What did you just say?” she asked, grabbing onto his arm. He looked down at those blood red nails and saw them digging into the man’s muscled thighs once more.

“Take your hands off me,” he said as he turned to leave.

“Connor! What about us?”

He turned as a mean laugh tore out of him. “Us? That would imply there was something going on between you and me. Which there isn’t, as of thirty seconds ago. We’re done.”

“Wait,” Sandra said. She shifted her weight from side to side. “What about… what about the ring?”

He glanced down at her left hand and saw it was bare. Of course. “Keep it,” he said. “I can buy all the rings Tiffany’s can make, but I can’t buy loyalty.” He wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw her smile.

Connor raced down to his car, slid into the driver’s seat and let his forehead rest on the steering wheel. What the hell am I supposed to