Dirty Love (Dirty Girl Duet #2)(37)

Cav gives Windsor a hug and thanks her for the invite, and I do the same, picking up on the tail edge of their conversation.

“Thank you again for letting me borrow the dress and shoes. They’re beautiful, and I’ll get them back to you as soon as I’ve had the dress dry-cleaned.”

Windsor waves a hand. “Don’t bother. That dress looks a hundred times better on you than it does on my sister. Keep it. Consider both it and the shoes a gift.”

I squeeze Cav’s hand in my surprise. “Can I at least pay you for them? I—”

“Gift, darling. I don’t want anything at all from you, except maybe your promise that you’re going to keep Cav happy. I’ve never seen him like this, and frankly, it’s a good look on both of you.”

“Deal.”

Cav’s hand squeezes mine in return, and it’s a promise I hope I can keep.





Greer has been quiet ever since Windsor told her to keep me happy. I know Greer well enough to guess her brain is turning that one over and over in her head. We have no clearly defined future. Every time we’re together, it’s somewhere removed from her normal life, so I can’t imagine it seems real. Having her here, in my world, has made it very real for me.

I can see her staying here. Living in my house. Coming to parties and events with me. Making a life and building a future. But there’s so much pulling her back to New York, I don’t know if I can make this a reality or not. Greer’s brother will be the biggest hurdle, but I’m willing to take on Creighton Karas to have her with me.

That’s assuming she wants to be here. It’s a different world for her, but she has blended into it so effortlessly. She didn’t stare wide-eyed at the people at the party. She held her own and talked to them like they were normal. Which they are, for the most part.

Greer is used to dealing with money and power and status, which makes her even more ideally suited for living in Hollywood and all the bullshit that comes with it most of the time. I couldn’t have picked a woman more perfect for the life I’m living. I just have to figure out how to get her to stay.

But right now, I need to get her out of her head because the creases between her eyebrows tell me she’s drawing in and worrying over everything rather than enjoying the moment.

If we were in my car, I’d have her spread her legs, pull up her skirt, and make her play with her * until she was on the edge of coming. I’d make her hold off until we got to the house and she could come with my cock buried deep inside her.

I glance at the driver, pleased that his eyes are firmly fixed on the road. Greer’s already in the middle seat, leaning against me, so I pull her tighter to my side and slide my hand up her thigh and under her dress. The heat from between her legs is impossible to miss. I lean down and speak low, directly into her ear.

“Is it the plug keeping you wet for me, or are you thinking about everything I promised I’d do to you when we got home?”

Greer’s eyes cut up to mine before looking meaningfully at the driver.

“Answer my question.”

“Both.” Her response comes out on a whisper.

“Are you ready for a cock up your ass? Last time, you took it like such a good girl.”

She shifts against me, and I take advantage of her movement to run my thumb over her slick * lips.

I groan at how wet she is. “You couldn’t be any more perfect, could you? Always wet for me, always ready to take my cock any way I want to give it to you. Win had it wrong; you don’t have to do a damn thing to keep me happy. I’m the lucky bastard who wants to do everything I can to keep you happy.” I pull my hand out from under her skirt and unbuckle her seat belt to draw her into my lap.

I’ve never wanted this kind of closeness with anyone, but with Greer, it seems I can’t get her close enough. It’s as if I know there’s no way in hell I deserve to keep her, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do everything in my power to bind her to me anyway.

I see her in every part of my future, whether I deserve to have her there or not. If we were in Vegas, I’d drag her in front of an Elvis impersonator and get my ring on her finger as fast as I could. Is this how her brother felt when he pulled his Vegas wedding stunt?

Impossible. Because I’ve got three years of wanting tied up with this woman. Greer’s it. She’s the one. She’s been the one since the first day she sat down and talked to me in the student café. I knew then I couldn’t keep her, but now . . . now, things are different. Years stand between me and the sins of my past. I’m not the same man I was then. Now, I’d argue that while I may never be good enough for her, at least I can give her the kind of life she deserves.

“I love you, Greer.”

The words come out, and even though they’re not the first time I’ve spoken them, it feels like it.

Her hand, already anchored behind my neck to help her keep her balance on my lap, flexes.

“I meant it before and I mean it now. I want you in my life. Here. I’ll do whatever you need to make it happen. I won’t wait another three years. Hell, I don’t want to wait three months, but I will. Move out here, live with me. Be with me.”

I hadn’t intended to have this conversation right this moment, but now that the words are out, I can’t pull them back, nor do I want to.