Page 17 of Sacred Vow

Chloe laughs and shakes her head in exasperation. “So, what does that mean for Zephyr? Do you keep hooking up with him?”

“I, uhhh . . . don’t really know. Caesar doesn’t seem to mind that I’m screwing his son as well. He encourages it even. It’s like a dirty little secret. Is that bad? I kinda want Zeph, but I want his daddy too.”

“Well, that’s not fucked up at all.”

I roll my eyes and crash back to the couch, bringing my phone up to check the notifications. The Vag Destroyer has left me more than a few messages, and honestly, they’re all fucked up.

Ever since my unfortunate live-waxing performance over the weekend, I’ve had more than my fair share of new followers who are all hoping for a repeat performance, but apart from the typical trolling, I haven’t had to worry too much. But this guy is going in hard.

“Look at this,” I say, turning my phone to show Chloe the slew of comments The Vag Destroyer has left under my posts.

“Ugh,” she says, before reading a few aloud. “They’re not even creative. You fucking whore . Dirty little slut . Oh wow,” she continues, scrolling down a little further. “This one is . . . wild.”

My brows pinch together, and I glance back at my phone to see what she’s referring to. “Ew,” I say, reading over it. “ The way I’d tie this bitch down and fuck that pretty little cunt until she bled .”

“Gross. Why do men have to be like that?” Chloe mutters, disgust thick in her tone.

I scoff. “I can guarantee The Vag Destroyer has in fact not destroyed a single vag.”

“Not if he’s talking like that. It’s giving rub the left flap for twenty minutes and then asks if you came vibes.”

I can’t help but laugh, and as I delete his comments off all of my pics, my phone rings, and I glance down, having absolutely no idea when Zephyr’s number was added to my contact list.

A stupid smile pulls across my lips as I hit accept and lift the phone to my ear. “I don’t recall ever asking for your number, let alone putting it into my phone,” I say in greeting.

“It’s a modern-day miracle,” Zeph chimes, not the least bit sheepish about being caught out. “Whatcha doing? Wanna come ’round? I might actually feed ya this time.”

“No shit, huh? Who would have known you’d be capable of acting like a decent human being? Are you going to cook or just grab handfuls of food and throw it at me like a caveman?”

Zephyr laughs. “I’m not a neanderthal. I can cook.”

“And here I thought all you wanted was to throw me down and fuck me like a savage.”

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I fully intend to do that too. But don’t get ahead of yourself, just because I said that I can cook, doesn’t mean I will. You and me, we don’t do that dating shit, remember? I’ll order in. Or Dad can cook if he really wants to.”

My gaze shifts to Chloe. “Your dad’s going to be there, huh?” I say, a grin resting on my lips at just the thought of getting to see him again so soon. “You know he’s fine, right? I wouldn’t mind a little Di Rozé sandwich.”

“Don’t push me, Tilly. You keep talking like that, and I’m going to have to fuck the attitude right out of your mouth.”

“You won’t see me putting up a fight.”

“Goddamn. You and me, this is going to end messy.”

“Hey, I like messy. What I don’t like is attachments. As long as you’re not catching feels, then I’m happy to drop to my knees anytime you want.”

“Fuck,” he groans. “I need to fuck that mouth. Be here in twenty.”

“Yes, sir.”

Zephyr ends the call, and I jump straight back up from the couch. “Looks like I’ve got myself another wild night,” I tell Chloe, darting into my room and finding something to wear.

“It’s going to get ugly,” she calls after me. “There’s no way this ends well.”

“Oh, I know,” I say, secretly thrilled by the risk of getting caught. It’s dangerous, and there’s nothing I love more than a wild game. “I’m counting on it.”

I find a shirt that says I might be a handful, but so is this ass and pull it over my head, knowing that Caesar will probably have something to say about it.

Hell, Zeph probably will too. After all, I know I’m more than a handful, but my ass certainly isn’t.

What can I say? I’m a sucker for a misleading shirt.

After finishing getting ready, I grab Zephyr’s Range Rover keys and my phone off the coffee table before prancing toward the door with an excited thrill pulsing through my veins.

I could quickly get addicted to Zephyr and his daddy.

Chloe’s right, this is going to get ugly, and yet I can’t seem to pull away.

“Have fun secretly fucking that boy’s daddy,” Chloe says as I traipse out the door.

“Oh, I will,” I laugh.

I reach Zephyr’s car in no time, quickly unlocking it and climbing in.

I don’t love the idea of borrowing people’s cars, but he freely gave it up because I was running late for class.

And while he didn’t tell me when he needed it back, I probably would have met up with him at some point today.

I don’t like being responsible for other people’s things, though I couldn’t in good faith pass up the opportunity to drive this thing. It’s fucking gorgeous.

After buckling up, I go to press the push start when my phone chimes from the cup holder I shoved it in, and I quickly scoop it up to find a new text from my grandmother.

A fond smile lifts the corner of my lips. I love my grandmother. We’ve always had such a close bond, but after introducing her to an iPhone last year, I’m starting to wonder if I need to introduce some boundaries.

That woman is an open book, and she doesn’t care who knows it.

I cringe as I open her text, never knowing what I might find, but when I see a beautiful photograph of her sitting on a fallen log, all I can do is smile. That is until I read the caption that comes along with it.

G’ma: This won’t be the only wood I’ll be riding tonight.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I go to respond when another text comes through.

G’ma: Oh, sorry, sweetheart. That text was meant for your Poppop.

Tilly: I bet. Have fun riding that wood!

I immediately feel sick the second I hit send, and as I shake my head and go to start the car, another text comes through.

G’ma: I should clarify. By wood, I mean your Poppop’s penis.

Tilly: Please stop!!!!!!

G’ma: Okay, cherub. Love you. I hope you’re out there getting some of that good, hard wood. You won’t be young forever!

What the fuck is my life?