Page 5 of Sacred Vow
“Flattery will get you nowhere, young lady,” she chides in a teasing tone before scooping up the familiar menu that I all but memorized the first time I came here. “Now, what’ll it be?”
Chloe gingerly takes the menu from Rebecca and glances over it. I can’t help but look over her shoulder, and despite already knowing my choices for the night, I get fifty shades of giddy just looking at the options.
White. Virgin.
Yellow. Intrigued. Willing to be approached.
Orange. Willing to be touched.
Pink. Oral Sex.
Red. Vaginal Intercourse. Private.
Purple. Vaginal Intercourse. Public.
Violet. Bisexual/Gay. Open for same-sex experiences.
Light Blue. Anal sex.
Dark Blue. Multiple partners. Private.
Green. Multiple partners. Public.
Brown. BDSM. Submissive.
Black. BDSM. Dominant.
I love the system they have here. Every person who walks through the door wears a color-coded wristband that indicates to the other members exactly what you’re there for. Up until now, Chloe has gone no further than wearing an orange wristband, but the way she’s gazing further down the menu has me wondering what kind of kinky fuckery she’ll be down with tonight.
“Well . . .” I prompt after she’s spent a lifetime staring at the menu. “Any of those colors screaming out at you?”
Chloe worries her bottom lip and scrunches her face as she lifts her stare from the menu. “I mean, if I change my mind, it’s not like Ihaveto do anything, right?”
“That’s right,” Rebecca says. “You can strut your pretty little self in there wearing your tits as handbags with a black wristband strapped around your lady taco, and if all you end up doing is asking the bartender for a drink, then that’s absolutely fine.”
“Okay,” she laughs. “Well, I’m not about to dive that far into the deep end and wear a black wristband. I wouldn’t want to get any of the guys’ hopes up, but I think I’m down for a purple one.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rebecca encourages as I gape at my best friend.
“Okay, now really. Who the hell are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
Chloe laughs and rolls her eyes. “Shut up and pick your wristband before I change my mind.”
A stupid grin stretches across my face, and I turn my attention back to Rebecca. “I don’t really know what I’m down for so I’m going to go with green just to cover all bases.”
“That’s my girl,” Rebecca says as she collects the purple and green wristbands. “I can always trust you to enjoy a wild night. You know, you only live once. I’ve been telling my daughter this for years. Get out and be crazy while you still can. Experience all the insanity the world has to offer because one day you’re going to be mid-Eiffel Tower, and your tits are going to hang lower than your flaps, and you’ll realize that you just don’t have the energy anymore.”
My brow arches in question. “Mid-Eiffel Tower, huh?”
“Oh yes,” she chimes. “But a word from the wise, take care of those knees. They won’t stay young forever.”
“Noted,” I tell her.
As Chloe and I fix our wristbands into position, Rebecca glances down at her desk, adjusting her glasses. “Oh, would you look at that,” she says with a cheer. “Aspen had you both put onto the VIP list.”
“She did,” I confirm, though whether we go down to the VIP floor or not, it makes no difference to me. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a whole new world down there, but I usually find something to occupy my full attention before I’ve even had a chance to wander downstairs.
Rebecca takes both our wrists and within seconds, we’re each sporting a beautiful gold moth stamp that will gain us access to the VIP floor. “Okay, ladies,” she says a moment later, stepping out from behind her desk and striding toward the internal door that leads to the main floor of Vixen. “Go have an incredible night, but don’t forget to come back and tell me all about it so I can live vicariously through your wild sexcapades.”
