Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(3)

“One more sec. Gotta get the good stuff.”

She’s back in moments with a matching bottle of vodka and a shot glass. “Okay. I’m not saying I’m not gonna puke, but after last night, I can use a little hair of the dog.”

Something occurs to me. “Do you need to go to work?”

She shakes her head. “Nope, going to e-mail them to tell them Fernando the Brazilian Strongman and I are running away to Rio where he’s going to keep me so well f*cked, I won’t be able to walk, let alone work.”

I tilt my head and study her face. With a choking laugh, I say, “You really did go to the circus, didn’t you? Oh my God, you f*cked a carny?”

Banner’s eyes dart sideways, telling me she was lying about “hearing” that strongmen can deliver a good pounding. “I got sick of the techie guys at work. I needed a man with arms bigger than mine. Preferably bigger than my thighs. I’m not apologizing for my walk on the carny side. It was awesome. The all-you-can-eat elephant ears were a bonus.”

I cover my face with both hands and peek through my fingers. “Oh my God. Where the hell did you find a circus in Manhattan?”

This time her gaze darts to the floor and her cheeks flush.

“Banner?” I drop my hands and pin her with my best tell me right now look.

Her voice is a mumble when she next speaks. “Jersey.”

Of course.

“And why aren’t you still in the strongman’s bed?”

I need to hear more. Preferably the whole story, because at least Banner’s life is more ridiculous than mine, and it has a shot at distracting me from everything I want to forget.

She coughs and speaks into her hand. “What was that?” Lowering her hand, she admits, “They had to pack up and drive to Pennsylvania. No more strong cock for this girl. It’s heartbreaking, really. Fernando was amazing. I didn’t understand a single word he said because my Portuguese is nonexistent, but who needs words when you’ve got an eleven-inch cock with the girth of jumbo summer sausage? My * may never be the same again . . . but at least I’ll have the memories.”

She finishes on a wistful note, and I’m so damn glad that my best friend is absolutely nuts.

“I love you, B.”

“Love you too, girl. Now, uncap that bottle and let’s get day drunk.”

I twist off the top and lift the bottle to my lips and chug. The vodka slides down my throat in a cool rush. Smooth. Silky. Deliciously mind-numbing.

Best. Idea. Ever.

Banner regales me with stories of the strongman, and I work on blocking out every memory involving Cav. She doesn’t ask for details because she’s that kind of friend. The kind that knows instinctively that I wouldn’t be swilling vodka like it’s water while sitting in the back of my brother’s private jet unless something had gone sideways in the worst way possible.

Or at least, I thought she took the hint that I didn’t want to talk about it. But no, my sneaky best friend decides to wait until I’m five shots in and my capacity for lying is nil.

“So, what the hell happened? You were here and the gossip rags slapped the label of Cav Westman’s hot new girlfriend on you, and then you freaking disappeared. I about lost my mind worrying. I stormed your brother’s office, and Cannon told me you were safe but laying low, and escorted me out of the building. Nothing else. I’ve been waiting impatiently for you to call, and now you call and want to get wasted. You gotta tell me what’s going on, woman.”

“Can we shelve this conversation for later?”

“Nope.” Banner pops the p. “Spill.”

I take a deep breath and give it all to her in one fell swoop. “Cannon shoved us in a plane and sent us to some tiny island off the coast of Belize where we f*cked and ate and laid in the sun for the last however many days until Creighton showed up to drop the bomb that Cav . . .” I pause because I haven’t shared the mob connection with Banner, and I doubt Creighton would want me to. Quick thinking has me changing my words to something vaguer. “Well, he’s been lying to me since the beginning. About everything.”

Holding up a finger, Banner grabs the neck of the bottle of vodka and pours another shot. “Get ready to chug, girlie, because that deserves more liquor.”

I lift my bottle in a toast and pour more cool vodka down my throat. One shot, two shots . . . maybe more. Who knows at this point? All I know is that the bottle isn’t empty yet, and I’m still conscious.

When Banner slams her shot glass on her table, she crosses her arms in front of her and adopts a serious expression.

“So he broke your heart . . . but did he break your ass?”

Thank God I’ve finished swallowing because I would have spewed vodka all over this silky duvet and the screen of my phone.

“Jesus, B. Really?” I open my mouth to protest that he didn’t break anything, but she keeps going.

“It’s an important question. And I’m already getting drunk and it’s not even ten a.m., and therefore I deserve an answer. Are you still a back-door virgin?”

Glaring at her through the Skype connection, I flatten my lips before I burst into drunken giggles. “I can still feel the twinge in my ass, if you really want to know the truth.”

Banner’s eyes get huge. “No. Way. You did it! My little girl has finally grown up and taken a cock where no cock has ever gone before! This deserves to be tweeted. We must memorialize it on the interwebs.”