Page 67 of Sacred Vow
“You won’t get any objections from me.”
“That’s my fucking problem.”
A few minutes later, after more than just a few objections, I reach for the door handle of Tilly’s apartment, pushing through it only to find Zeph and Chloe just moments away from fucking on the girls’ brand-new couch.
I shake my head as I lead Tilly into her apartment while making a mental note to have a chat with my son about the appropriate places to be fucking women. Though it’s not as though I’m leading by example, but that’s beside the point. I want my son to be a better man than I ever was, and that includes showing the type of respect to a woman that she deserves, even if she’s the one pulling the strings.
I lead Tilly right into her room, and as I glance around, she kicks off her shoes and beelines straight for her bed, but knowing just how uncomfortable she’ll be, I stop her barely an inch from her mattress. She stands directly in front of me, those big green eyes locked on me as I reach down between us, unbuttoning her jeans.
“I thought you said no.”
“I’m not fucking you, Tilly. I’m getting you ready for bed.”
Her cheeks flush the most stunning shade of pink, and as I watch her, a strange, raw adoration for this girl swells in my chest, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s not the only one who might be blurring the lines of our vow.
“Oh,” she whispers, her gaze falling away.
She steps out of her jeans, and not a moment later, she reluctantly climbs into her bed, scootching onto her side and curling into her pillow. “Caesar?” she questions. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For not breaking me.”
I nod and walk to the doorway of her bedroom before glancing back to see her soft, sleepy stare still locked on me. “Tomorrow night, hellcat. Ten p.m. Meet me at Vixen.”
And with that, I stride out of her apartment, and for the first time in my life, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing.
18
TILLY
Ice clinks in my glass as I sit at Vixen’s incredible bar, the slighted nerves making themselves known deep in my chest. It’s been a long day dealing with a killer hangover and feeling sorry for myself after practically throwing myself at Caesar in his car last night.
What was I thinking, calling him? I was supposed to be ordering an Uber, yet somehow I ended up calling Caesar. It wasn’t even my intention to have him pick us up, yet he came without me even needing to ask. He’s just a real man like that, and in being a real man, he kept his hands off me even when I was desperately grinding against him like a cat in heat.
Fuck. I really am falling for this man. Just the idea of seeing him tonight has a deep hunger booming in my chest. I don’t know what he has in store for our night, but considering I told him to set up our little playdate with his friends, I can only assume how this is going to go.
To be completely honest, at first, I really wanted this. When I was watching the pure heaven that other woman was in, Ineeded to experience it, and don’t get me wrong, I still do. Only when Caesar brought it up in his kitchen, my motivation had shifted.
I wanted to see how he would react to seeing another man’s hands on my body, seeing another man inside of me, having another man’s pleasure.
Will he be jealous? Will it drive him wild the way that it would do to me?
A grin pulls across my lips. I suppose we’re about to find out.
A body steps in behind me as the gentle caress of fingers dances across my shoulder, brushing my hair back as the familiar scent of Caesar’s cologne wraps around me. My eyes flutter closed, and just when I think the sensation couldn’t get any better, he drops his lips to the base of my neck, sending a wave of pure pleasure coursing through my body.
“Are you ready?” he rumbles, that thick tone doing wicked things to me.
I nod, and his hand lowers to my waist. “Come then.”
Caesar helps me off the barstool, his hand falling to the small of my back, and after leaving my drink at the bar, he leads me deeper into the VIP floor. “You sure you want this?”
My gaze shifts up to his, studying his stare and waiting for any sign that he’s hesitating even a bit, but when nothing comes, I simply nod. “You have no idea how sure I am,” I tell him, wondering who the hell these other men are, and if I know them. Would it be weird if Zeph was one of them? Oh, I wonder if Caesar has a brother, and if so, would he fuck like Caesar? And with that very thought, it occurs to me that I really don’t know much about the man that I’m very quickly falling head over heels for. How is that even possible?
“Where’d that pretty little head of yours just go?”
A grin pulls at the corner of my lips, and I shrug my shoulders, playing coy. “Oh, nowhere,” I tell him. “I was just wondering if you happened to have a brother?”
