Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(33)

We go back into the house through another open door, and I fall more in love with Windsor’s place with every step. Yes, it’s way too big for one person, but it gives off this airy vibe of being on a constant vacation. I love it. It’s so different from my apartment and the street noise that I can’t escape, even way up in my ivory tower. I know I’m lucky to not be living in a shoebox-sized place in the city, but even the most expensive penthouses in New York can’t come close to competing with this.

Cav leads me into the dining room and the decadent spread of food along a buffet. It’s virtually untouched, which surprises me more than I let on. Even if the stick-thin women are going to turn their I’ll just have a wheatgrass smoothie noses up at this, why aren’t the men eating?

A quick survey of the room shows that the lines at the bar service are dominated by men, so apparently they’re all more worried about drinking than eating.

Cav has no such reservations. He grabs two plates and hands me one. “You’re not drinking on an empty stomach.”

“I’m going to be the only female eating in this entire place.”

Cav shrugs. “Fuck ’em, Greer. You don’t need to impress anyone. You’re already the most beautiful woman here. The guys can’t keep their eyes off you, and if I make it out of here tonight without putting my fist through someone’s face, I’ll count myself lucky.” He reaches for the first set of tongs. “Eat, woman.”

“Fine.”

The choices are decadent enough to rival one of Creighton’s parties. I stick to the veggies and seafood, and Cav loads up on meats and cheese. He grabs us both a drink before we set up at one of the tall tables lining the side of the room. They’re all empty except for ours.

Cav doesn’t seem to care at all, though. He digs into his plate with gusto. I’ve honestly never seen a man eat so much or so often as he does, but it explains why most of the guys I know don’t look anything like him. I assume it takes a lot of protein to keep his physique intact.

It’s almost laughable now when I think of Tristan. Tristan who could wear skinny jeans and be in no danger of sporting a dick print. I can’t even imagine Cav trying to get them on. He’d probably bust the legs wide open. And for sure, there’d be no room for the equipment he’s packing.

Speaking of his equipment . . . my gaze dips below his belt as he digs into his food.

“Eyes up here. You’re not getting the D until I’m ready to give it to you.”

My gaze snaps up to his. “How do you even know what I was thinking? I could’ve just been admiring . . . the fine craftsmanship of your belt.”

“Stole it from costume off a set. And we both know you’re full of it.”

I roll my eyes and grab a shrimp off my plate. “I’m not full of anything right now, if you’ll recall.”

Cav waits until I’m done chewing my food before he leans close and speaks low into my ear. “You’re gonna be full of something as soon as we finish eating.”

His words have an immediate physical effect on me, and now everyone at this fancy Hollywood party is going to get a phenomenal view of my hard nipples.

Before I can reply, another man stops by the table. I cross one arm over my chest in what I hope is a casual rather than defensive-looking posture.

“Where the hell have you been, man? Been trying to track you down for poker night for weeks. It’s like you fell off the damn planet.”

The man is probably an inch taller than Cav, and is as light as my man is dark. Sun-bleached blond hair gives the guy the look of a surfer. I can’t recall his name, but Cav clearly knows him well because they do that half-handshake, half-backslapping hug that must be encoded in male DNA.

“Bohannon, good to see you, man.”

Ah, that’s right. His name is Silas Bohannon, and I remember him as a surfer because that’s what he was in his last big movie.

“You gonna introduce me to this gorgeous woman?” he says, his aqua eyes on me.

“Not sure I should. You’re a little too smooth with the ladies.”

From his easy manner with Silas, Cav clearly isn’t worried, but still the words give me a hint that this very attractive man has no trouble finding female company.

“She’s safe from me. I’ve got my eye on a spitfire I haven’t been able to pin down.”

Silas’s attention drifts, and I follow his line of sight as it lands squarely on Windsor.

Hmm. Interesting. I can’t imagine she’d be stubborn enough to say no to this much man in her life . . . especially now that I’ve gotten an up close and personal look at pedophile Sean.

“Bo, this is Greer. Greer, Bo.”

I shake his hand, but it’s clear his mind isn’t on meeting me, despite being personable and polite. Cav notices his distraction as well.

“Persistence, Bo. She’s gonna give you a hell of a fight. You know she doesn’t want anything to do with another guy from this world.”

“She’s f*cking wrong if she thinks we’re all like limp-dick Sean.”

I toss in my two cents without thought or invitation. “I might be overstepping here, but sometimes a woman just needs to know what it’s like to have a real man in her life. Especially if all she’s ever known is the limp-dicked variety. Don’t ask permission. Don’t apologize. Just man up and go after what you want.”