Page 24 of Sacred Vow

TILLY

H ow many girls get to say they screwed their fuck buddy’s hot dad in an exclusive sex club and it absolutely blew their mind? Not many. Not many at all!

Just the thought of it has me laughing to myself as I cut across the college campus on Saturday afternoon.

It’s been a long day, and after spending a few hours in the study hall, trying to prepare for the huge assessment I have early in the week, I’m finally heading back to my small apartment that I share with Chloe.

I have crammed as much information into my brain as I can possibly handle, and now that my head thoroughly hurts, I can’t wait to get home and unwind with a bottle of wine. On second thought, maybe I need something a little stronger.

I get halfway across campus when my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out before finding a new text from Aspen.

Aspen: Caesar Di Rozé????? Girl, he’s fine! Who would have known you were such a hussy for the silver foxes? Not gonna lie, you shocked the shit out of me with that one!

A laugh bubbles up my throat, and my thumbs immediately start moving across the screen.

Tilly: Damn. That Izaac sure has a big mouth. Do you two literally tell each other everything?

Aspen: Duh! He couldn’t even wait until he got home.

He was dishing all those juicy details before he’d even made it back to his office.

I bet I knew all about your sexcapades before Caesar had even touched you.

Though you should ask Becs about him. She’s experienced that one first-hand, and all I can say is .

. . WHOA! Congrats, girl. If this is an ongoing thing, you’ve hit the man-meat jackpot!

I start thinking of how to explain this strange relationship between me and Caesar when the sound of someone coming up behind me has me glancing back.

“Hey,” the guy says, his feet pounding against the pavement as he jogs toward me. “You’re Tilly, right?”

“Uhhhh, yeah,” I say slowly, clutching my bag just a little tighter. He doesn’t strike me as the type who’s going to mug me in broad daylight, but you never know with these frat boys. They’re unpredictable, and that makes them dangerous.

As the guy gets a little closer and comes to a stop just a few feet away, I realize that there’s something familiar about him, only I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I’ve seen him somewhere, but I’m certain I’ve never had a conversation with him.

I’d remember that. I’m usually pretty good with faces.

“I’m Jordan,” he says as though I’m supposed to know who that is.

“Okaaaay.”

His brows furrow, and he almost looks offended. “I’m Zeph’s friend. He would have told you about me.”

I shake my head, knowing damn well that I would have remembered a conversation about one of Zeph’s friends. After all, I’m always on the lookout for friends of the guys I’m hooking up with, just in case one of them might be Chloe’s type.

This guy definitely isn’t, but there’s no doubting that those rare times when the stars align are always incredible.

We have the best times together, and it’s even better when those times end up with both of us getting railed.

Separately, of course. Chloe isn’t the super adventurous type, but I’m sure she would be for the right guy. Assuming she’s comfortable, of course.

“Apart from shamelessly mocking one another, Zeph and I don’t exactly do all that much talking.”

“Oh,” he says, a hint of irritation flashing in his eyes and sending off alarm bells inside my head and reminding me where I’d seen his face before.

He was the guy sitting next to Zeph in our psychology class, the friend who seemed pissed off that Zeph wasn’t giving him his undivided attention.

Perhaps the guy is hot for Zeph. Who knows?

Zeph is more than a catch. Any guy or girl would be lucky to have him.

“Well, he does plenty of talking, and he said you’re always down. ”

My brow arches, and I stare back at the guy, watching as the irritation in his eyes begins morphing into something else entirely—something that has me inching back.

“Always down?” I ask, making a mental note to have a little chat with Zeph about what type of information he shares about me.

I’m more than used to guys running their mouths, but Zeph didn’t strike me as the kiss-and-tell type.

This guy certainly does, though. He seems like a lot of things I have no interest in.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Jordan says, discreetly stepping toward me and tightening the space between us as his gaze sails up and down my body, looking at me like I’m his next meal.

“Zeph said you’re a little firecracker. You go off for him, so what do you say?

Why don’t you come back to my place, and I’ll put you to work? ”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t start acting all high and mighty. You were all too happy to fuck him before you even knew his name, so what’s the problem? You’re down for that shit, aren’t you?”

A barking laugh tears from the back of my throat, and all I can do is gape at him. “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke?” I question, crossing out my mental reminder to speak with Zeph and changing it to something a little more . . . stern.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Jordan grunts. “I thought you were down. You’re always riding Zeph’s cock, so stop being a little tease. You know you’re just going to end up on your knees anyway, so why fight it? Unless you like that.”

I shake my head, barely able to believe the audacity of this man, but then, he is a man, and this type of behavior isn’t all that uncommon. Most of them just do a better job at hiding their misogynistic entitlement.

Anger booms through my chest, and I lift my chin, letting him see just how wrong he is.

“Wow. One conversation with your friend about a woman you’ve never met, and suddenly you think you’re entitled to her body.

Remind me to send out a blast to every woman on campus, making sure they check their drinks for roofies when you’re around. ”

He steps even closer, but this time I don’t bother backing up. I don’t want this guy thinking he has any kind of edge over me. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

“What’s wrong, Jordo? I didn’t immediately fall to my knees and beg you to flop that little pre-cummy pin dick out after all, but calling me a slut on the sidewalk?

” I ask. “Let’s get one thing straight. You and I, never going to happen.

I would prefer to fuck a rusty drainpipe than to even consider letting you touch me in any kind of way. ”

“Zeph—”

“No. No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head.

“What happens between me and Zeph is none of your damn business. We’re friends and yeah, I ride his cock all fucking night, but that’s because we have chemistry.

He’s fun, and you are certainly not that.

Besides, Zeph would never approach a woman on the sidewalk, belittle her, and demand access to her body.

I don’t know where the fuck your entitlement comes from, but you need to check it before it lands you behind bars.

You’re giving rapey vibes, and if I’m being completely honest, you look like the kind of guy who’s going to rub my left labia for a solid ten minutes and then ask if I came. ”

Anger flashes in his eyes, mixed with just a hint of hurt, and I relish in his pain. Striking down a man’s ego isn’t usually my thing, but this guy more than deserved it. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“You sure?” I ask. “How have your past conquests turned out? Did any of them come begging for more? Perhaps you need to break that down with a therapist. Though just a little FYI, because I know you probably haven’t believed any of the women you’ve spoken to before me, but they weren’t lying when they said the clit was a real thing.

It’s right there at the top. Just open your squinty little eyes and you’ll find it.

It’s like a magical little bean that helps women orgasm.

OH! That’s a real thing, too, you know. The female orgasm is a beautiful thing.

I know some of you guys don’t believe it exists, but I assure you, it does. ”

Jordan looks at me as though just the idea of getting any closer disturbs him, and a wave of pride crashes through me. “You’re a fucking bitch.”

“I’ve been called worse. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to get on with my day, preferably far away from men who think it’s acceptable to demand a woman suck their dicks on the sidewalk. Mmkay, thanks. This was fun, but I’m out.”

I don’t waste another second, turning around and scurrying away while keeping a sharp eye on my peripheral, making sure the asshole doesn’t feel the need to settle the score.

It takes me no time to reach my apartment, and by the time I’m pushing through my door, I’m all but bursting from the seams, desperate to tell Chloe exactly what just happened.

I find her a second later, curled up on the couch, clutching an open bottle of wine, looking as though she just sucked a lemon.

“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, kicking the door closed behind me before flicking the lock and sliding the deadbolt into place. “You look as though someone just pissed in your Cheerios.”

“Me? Speak for yourself,” she grumbles. “You’re the one who just came bursting through the door as though you were looking for a fight.”

“That’s because I almost just had one,” I tell her. “Some asshole just demanded I suck his dick on the sidewalk because I so happened to suck his friend’s. I swear! I just had to put the fucker in his place, and then I practically ran home while making sure he wasn’t following me.”

“The fuck?” she grunts, her face twisting with disgust as she flies to her feet, her gaze sailing over me as though checking to make sure I’m in one piece. “Who the fuck just does that? I swear, men are fucking pigs sometimes.”