Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(17)

I shut her up the best way I know how. After the gag, that is.

Crushing my lips to Greer’s, I take what I want from her. It feels like coming home. Fuck, I’ve missed this. Missed her. So goddamned much. The tension that’s been dogging me loosens now that I’m tasting her again.

Her sharp teeth nip my lip, hard, and I draw back.

“You kidnapped me! You’re insane.”

“Only because your brother keeps security on you, and I had to get you out undetected. I wasn’t trying to scare the hell out of you. What else was I supposed to do? Ask your brother’s permission? That’s not how I work.”

I lift her from her seated position, arms and legs still bound, and carry her to the bench seat on the left side of the cabin. Settling into the plush leather, I turn her sideways on my lap. We have a few minutes before takeoff, and I’ll need to strap her into her seat without the captain noticing the restraints. Then again, he’s paid well not to ask questions.

Squeezing tighter, I pull her into my body, crushing her against me. “Goddammit, I missed you, baby girl. How the hell could I fix this if I couldn’t even get to you? You walked out, and I had no other option.”

The last thing I expect to see is tears in her eyes, but they appear, turning her dark gaze glassy.

“But you did scare the hell out of me! I thought I was being stolen and sold to some fat sheik.”

I smooth her wild hair out of her face. “Fuck, baby. I’m so goddamn sorry. I’d take that back if I could. If anyone ever tried to take you from me, I’d lie, cheat, and kill to get you back.”

Greer buries her face in my neck, and I expect an emotional scene. Instead, I feel teeth against my shoulder just before she bites down.

Wrapping my fist around her hair once again, I tug her head back.

“Listen to me. I swear on my life, I would never let anything happen to you. Three years ago, you knew I wasn’t like any guy you’d ever met before. I’m still not like them. As far as I’m concerned, you belong to me, Greer, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting your brother stash you somewhere I can’t get in contact with you. There’s only one person I trust with your safety—me. I will always protect you.”

She unleashes a sound somewhere between a howl and a scream of frustration as she struggles against me.

Fuck it. I’m following my gut.





One moment I’m thrashing against Cav, determined for him to feel something approaching what I went through in that damn bag, and the next moment I’m facedown on his lap with my sleep shorts tugged down.

I don’t have time to react before his palm lands on my ass with a slap. I suck in a breath to scream, but it doesn’t make it to my lips.

He lands smack after smack on my ass, and I forget about everything else except for the spot every strike lands. I focus on the pain, the burn, the need for more.

How is it possible this is calming me down and centering me rather than sending me into another blind rage?

I shift against Cav’s lap again, but this time, it’s because of the growing heat between my thighs.

There’s something wrong with me. I shouldn’t react like this.

But there’s no getting around it because I am. I love how he takes me in hand and doesn’t ask permission. Cav is giving me something I didn’t know I needed until that exact moment.

By the last few strikes, I’m arching into his touch. Seeking it. Needing it. How is it possible for me to forget all of his transgressions the moment he puts his hands on me?

Whether I’ll admit it to him or not, I can at least admit it to myself—I missed him. All of him. Why do I crave his kinks? Is this why I’ve never been satisfied with a sexual relationship before? Because I needed this . . . dirty little extra? Or is it because I just needed Cav?

I arch up, expecting another blow, but instead his palm lands softly on my ass and kneads my skin. The burn intensifies with every squeeze. When his fingers slip between my thighs, I know exactly what he’s going to find, and I nudge them open wider.

Shameless in this moment, I want him to feel how wet he makes me. I want my man to know how badly I need him right now, how badly I want him to fill me up with his fingers, and then his cock, and help me block out these last days of confusion and frustration.

I want to forget the bombs of truth Creighton dropped on us and go back to being the us that we were in Belize before that morning. I want all the things I told him I wanted—the things I thought I could actually have for those few days.

Can that ever be my reality? Or is this doomed to be nothing but a fantasy?

When Cav slides a finger through my slickness, I know this is no fantasy. This is real, and I need him. Now.

I open my mouth to beg, but Cav pulls my shorts up, flips me over, and settles me on the seat beside him.

The cockpit door, already half-open, swings open the rest of the way.

“We’re ready for takeoff, Mr. Westman. Please make sure your seat belt is fastened.”

The pilot doesn’t make eye contact with either of us, and I’m grateful. A flush spreads along my cheekbones as I think of what he might have witnessed had Cav not been so quick to move me.

When Cav buckles me in and the plane begins to move forward, my hands are still bound behind my back. “I’ll get you loose after we take off, as long as you think you can behave.”