Page 100 of Sacred Vow
TILLY
Ismile as I make my way down the stairs and into the small reception area at Vixen, butterflies swarming through the pit of my stomach. I don’t know why I feel so nervous about this, though I’m starting to wonder if this is just the standard reaction my body will have every time I meet Caesar here.
“Oh, Miss Tilly,” Rebecca, the sweet receptionist with the wild younger years, says with a wide smile. “I was starting to wonder if something had happened to you. I haven’t seen you for—” She cuts herself off as she takes a closer look at me, understanding dawning in her eyes as her gaze shifts over the fading bruises lingering on my skin. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. There I go, always opening my big mouth. Is everything alright, dear? I hope you’re not in any trouble.”
I give her a soft smile, her welcoming nature making me feel as though I could sit right here with her all night and tell her everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. Though something tells me that she’s the type to pull a pink gun out ofher purse, fix a balaclava over her head, and insist that we go deal with my problems.
“Everything is okay, and yes, I am fine now,” I tell her. “There’s nothing to be concerned about.”
Her lips press into a hard line, her gaze narrowing before I see the exact moment she decides that she knows what happened. “I hope you gave that bastard a piece of your mind.”
Well shit. I suppose she’s seen more than enough over her long and wonderful life to read between the lines. She’s not someone who can be fucked with or lied to. She sees right through the bullshit, and I find myself nodding. “He got what was coming for him,” I confirm.
“Good, now pick out your wristband and go have a fun night. Then after, if you feel the need to chat, I’ll be right here.”
Unable to help myself, I step around her executive desk, and as if knowing exactly what I need, she pulls me right into a warm hug, reminding me of the ones I would get from my grandmother and somehow making everything okay. “Thanks, Rebecca.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she says, pulling back and picking up a purple wristband—the one that indicates that I’m down for a public setting, though since finding Caesar, my wristbands haven’t really mattered because we already have an understanding between us. He knows my limits just as I know his. “Now get out of here.”
I do as I’m told, not wanting to get on Rebecca’s bad side, and soon enough, I’m sitting at the bar on the VIP floor, the gold moth stamp decorating my wrist. There aren’t many people here. It’s Friday evening, but it’s still early, way before the usual late-night rush. There’s almost a calmness about it, and as the bartender makes his way over to me, I place my purse on the bar.
“Let me guess,” the bartender says. “Pink Moscato?”
“You know me well.”
He laughs to himself, clearly very proud to have remembered my drink of choice. Though I’ve got to give it to him, I’m not always that easy to read. Depending on what Caesar has in store for me, I often take a shot or two, but tonight isn’t about being wild and exploring limits; it’s just about me and him. It’s about feeling, being together in a place that excites us. It’s about fun.
The bartender places my drink down in front of me, and I quickly take a sip as I twist in my seat and look around the club. Usually Caesar beats me here and collects me from the bar, but so far, nothing.
“Who are you looking for, sweetheart?” the bartender says, restacking the glasses.
“You know Caesar?” I ask. “Sexy daddy vibes?”
“Uhh, yeah. I know who you’re talking about. I saw him just a moment ago. He was speaking with the bossman,” he says, before pointing across the VIP floor toward the private rooms. “There was something about needing one of the private rooms for tonight.”
A smile lifts the corner of my lips, and I try not to laugh into my Moscato. The particular room he’s pointing at is a BDSM room, and it’s full of whips and chains, just like I teased him about in my text. There’s no way he’s about to use them on me, not tonight at least, but I wouldn’t put it past him to tease me about it. My heart booms in my chest as I try to figure out what awaits me.
I stare at the open door, waiting to see if he’ll appear, and when the seconds turn into a few minutes, his game becomes clear. He wants me to find him tonight, and if that’s the game he wants to play, then I’m more than willing to be his eager little participant.
After getting to my feet and lifting my Moscato off the bar, I stride across the VIP room, my heart booming out of my chest as I try to figure out what awaits me.
I hover in the open doorway, and my gaze sweeps through the private room. I’ve never been in here before, and it thrills me. It’s like a scene out of a kinkier version of 50 Shades of Grey. There’s a wall of toys: whips, cuffs, spreaders, and ball gags, while the opposite side of the room boasts a big X frame. I don’t even know what these things are called, but I’ve seen more than enough movies to know what they’re used for.
Caesar doesn’t strike me as the BDSM type. He’s kinky and likes to explore, and I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of bending me over and teasing me with a whip, but I can’t picture him wanting to dress me up in bondage harnesses and shove a ball gag in my mouth. It’s not his style, but that doesn’t mean I’m not at least curious about the treasures that hide in this room.
Stepping over the threshold, I stride into the private room, crossing to the wall of toys and slowly scanning over them. There’s no sign of Caesar here, but I’m sure it won’t take him long to figure out where I’ve gone. He seems to have a radar for me at all times.
My gaze shifts over the toys, figuring out what intrigues me and what firmly belongs on my hard-pass list. I cross the room, making my way over to the big X frame, and I sweep my fingertips across the small hooks. Then, as if on cue, the overhead lights slowly begin to dim until all I see is faint shadows.
It’s not complete darkness, just some very serious mood lighting, and when I hear the soft thud of the door closing, a thrill sweeps through me.
It’s showtime.
I remain over by the X frame and slowly turn as I hear Caesar moving through the room, passing the wall of toys. “About time you showed up,” I purr, heat pulsing through my body and reminding me just how desperate I’ve been for this over the past twelve days. “I was starting to think you’d bailed on me.”
No response comes, and as the sound of his movement fades away, my back stiffens, trying to figure out where the hell he is. The music out on the main floor is too loud, and it’s impossible to keep tracking him, but it only adds to the thrill.
My gaze sweeps through the room, peering through the darkness as I try to figure out his game plan, but when I feel his breath on the back of my neck and his fingers sweeping down the inside of my arm, a wide smile stretches across my face.
