<b> The Red Thread</b><br><br><b>It started with a lingering scent. That unmistakable combination of vanilla and smoke—the perfume she only wore for me. Except, it wasn’t me she was with anymore. Three years unraveled in three seconds when I saw her stepping out of his truck, a wicked grin on her face and an outfit I knew I’d picked for her but had never seen her wear. She looked up, caught my eye, and smiled like the cat that swallowed the canary.</b><br><br><b>The message was clear: <i>I’ve moved on, and I’m not sorry about it.</i></b><br><br><b>My best friend. My girl. Together. My body boiled in a horny rage as my tumescence only grew stronger and out of my control throbbing with every racing heartbeat. All of the sudden there was no other choice in my mind. I was on a mission from that point forward, it was something darker, more unsettling then I had ever felt before.—a part of me that wanted to play the game she’d started.</b><br><br><b>The next morning, he called. Apologies dri

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