Dirty Girl (Dirty Girl Duet #1)

by Meghan March

  “Take that as a hell yes.” I slip my feet into my fins and I’m already over the side before I hear Juan’s shout of caution.

  I’m paddling for all I’m worth when I hear a second splash in the water behind me that must be Cav, but I’m too excited to wait for him. Come on, we’re talking a manatee. It’s only about thirty feet away from me, and I dive under the water to get a better look, making sure to blow through my snorkel to keep the water out.

  I mentally squee when I realize there are two of them. A mother and a calf float together in the water, and I’m awed by the experience. Seeing them in person is amazing. They’re so big and goofy looking and completely endearing.

  Knowing I need to keep my distance, I work to stay in place rather than indulge my instinct to keep swimming toward the pair.

  A flash of orange appears beside me—Cav’s borrowed board shorts. He’s a hell of a swimmer, and I’ve been meaning to ask him all day if he has tried out for roles that were water-based because my guilty Google searches didn’t tell me about any.

  I flail excitedly, but he doesn’t look as amazed by the manatees as I do. Needing to catch my breath, I swim to the surface and blow the salt water from my snorkel tube. Cav’s next to me before I’m finished.

  Cav pulls his snorkel from his mouth and says, “Come on, baby. We’re going back.”

  I shake my head, pulling my snorkel away as well. “Why? I want to see—”

  “Because you’re in such a hurry, you didn’t wait to hear Juan tell you he just realized there are jellyfish everywhere around here. We need to get you out of the fucking water before you get stung.”

  “Jellyfish?” Fear paralyzes my limbs, making my head duck under the surface, and I suck in salt water. I thrash to pull myself back up and emerge coughing.

  Cav’s arm wraps around me and he pulls me against him, keeping my head above water. “You’re okay. I got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, not even a fucking jellyfish sting. Understand me?”

  I nod, wanting to get the hell back in the boat. I didn’t know I had an irrational fear of jellyfish, but it’s really freaking clear now that I do.

  “Good. Juan is coming toward us, and you only have to swim a little farther.”

  “Okay. Okay. Let’s go.”

  I swim toward the boat, caught between wanting to be careful while making sure I’m not going to tangle with some barely visible monster with tentacles, and getting there as fast as humanly possible. I go for option two.

  We get to the side of the boat as Juan shuts down the motor and Cav lifts me up and over the edge. Sometimes his strength still blows my mind, and right now I’m really, really grateful for it. Once I’m back in the boat, Cav climbs in beside me.

  I reach for my beach towel, intent on wrapping it around me and forgetting this whole experience, except for the manatees, but Cav snatches it from my hands.

  “I need to check you for stings. Did you feel anything? Did they get you?”

  Confusion reigns as I shake my head. “No, I didn’t feel anything.”

  He gets to his knees in front of me, checking my legs and torso before lifting me to my feet and turning me around. Only once he’s satisfied that I escaped the jellyfish without incident does he wrap the towel around me.

  “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me, Greer.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear him and I wanted to see . . .” My words trail off as I see two red spots on his calf. “They got you? Holy shit. Oh my God, Cav. I’m so sorry!” I turn to Juan. “What do we do? How do we treat it? Do we need something special? Do you need to pee on him?”

  Cav spins me around in the rocking boat and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Shh. Calm down.”

  Juan comes over and squats down to look at Cav’s leg. “Tentacles didn’t stick. Just barely stung you. Let me get a bucket of seawater and you can rinse. Should only sting for a few minutes and you’ll be good.”

  I’m feeling all the guilt as Cav does as Juan’s instructed. “I’m so sorry. I got too excited.”

  Cav grabs my hand. “Hey. Stop. Baby, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt. Just a little sting and an itch. It’s already fading.”

  “But—”

  He squeezes my fingers. “I’d take a bullet for you, Greer. This is nothing.”

  He’s smiling, but I’m trying to comprehend what he just said. I’d take a bullet for you. He means every word, and it’s the most powerful thing anyone has ever said to me. My iron-clad grip on my heart loosens by degrees.

  “I don’t want you getting hurt for me,” I say quietly.

  “That’s not something you get to choose.” He lowers himself onto the cushioned bench seat in front of the cockpit and pulls me down beside him.

  I’m quiet the rest of the boat ride to the island, having lost my appetite for adventure for the moment. Cav picks up on my changing mood.

  “You okay?” he asks over the roar of the engine and the hull slapping the Caribbean blue water as we head toward the channel that will let Juan back in through the reef.

  “Yeah. Just . . .” I let my words trail off because I have no idea what to say.

  “Still freaking out?”

  I meet his hazel gaze. “Yeah. I don’t like that feeling. At all.”

  Cav’s arm tightens around my shoulders. “Everything’s fine.”

  “It’s not fine. You got hurt because of me. Because I didn’t wait and listen.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. If you take this as a reminder to look before you leap, then we’re good.”

  I force a smile to my lips. “I guess I need to do that more often, huh?”

  One of Cav’s eyebrows hitches up. “It wouldn’t hurt. But luckily, you’ve got me to catch you when you make those jumps. I won’t let you fall.”

  Do I really have him? Maybe for now, in this fantasy bubble. But what about when this is over? I’m waiting for a message from Creighton that the coast is clear and all the concerns have been contained.

  What happens when we’re back in the real world? Do Cav and I have a future? Those are the questions I should be asking, but I’m not ready to hear the answers yet.

  Instead, I lean into his heat and watch the beginnings of a beautiful sunset paint the sky.

  Every day we’re here, I’m more and more fucked. Spending so much time with Greer has done nothing but reaffirm the fact that leaving her three years ago, while inevitable, is the worst decision I’ve ever made. After we got back to the house following the jellyfish incident, she fussed over me, wishing she could google how to properly treat it. Juan gave us some pointers, but still Greer worried.

  She fucking worried about me.

  I haven’t had someone worry about me . . . in a long time.

  That fact just brings it home that Greer is one of a kind. I’ve been wanted for my fame, my notoriety, and my money, but with Greer, I know it’s none of those things.

  She’s the billionaire’s sister who wanted the maintenance man. A fact that still blows me away and reminds me how much time I wasted.

  Buttoning a light cotton shirt, I walk to the doorway of the bathroom where she’s putting on makeup in front of the mirror. She’s fucking beautiful. And she could already be mine if I wasn’t who I am.

  Hollywood and the movie business gave me the chance to flip the bird to the reasons that kept us apart, and this time I’m not letting her go, regardless of what comes next. I’m going to make this real.

  “I’m almost ready, I swear,” Greer says, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

  “Take your time. We’re in no hurry. And you know you don’t need to get all dolled up to eat dinner on the deck, right?”

  Her glare is too cute not to smirk at.

  “I’m not sitting across from you—looking all drop-dead gorgeous—without looking equally sexy. Or at least as sexy as I can manage. It’s called balance, Cavanaugh. Deal with it.”

  I think it’s the first time she has called me by my full name, and my brain
skips forward to some vision of the future where she’s telling me to suck it up and deal with her primping for the red carpet premiere of one of my movies.

  Fuck, having her on my arm for that would be a dream. Every time I’ve stepped in front of the flashing cameras for a premiere, I’ve wondered if she’d see the pictures. I wanted her to see the pictures. I wanted her to wish she was with me instead of that fuck Tristan.

  And now she is.

  Taking one last long look at her as she does something to make her eyes look even deeper and darker, I turn to wander the house. If I keep watching her, I’ll bend her over the bathroom counter, tell her to keep her hands on the mirror and her eyes on mine as I bury myself inside her.

  Soon.

  I make my way through the living room, loving how fucking untouchable we are here. The outside world can’t break into our bubble. Rea and Juan have followed my instructions from the first day impeccably—that we not be bothered with any calls they might receive—in exchange for a healthy tip to express my gratitude.

  A table is already set up on the patio, a candle flickering on the white tablecloth between two plates. I can hear Rea in the kitchen, finishing up dinner preparations.

  Snapper, shrimp, and lobster with coconut rice and vegetables. Fresh pineapple-coconut ice cream for dessert, all at Greer’s request.

  “Mmm . . . that smells delicious.”

  I turn to see Greer behind me, her borrowed purple dress hitting high on her thighs, her dark hair wild around her shoulders. Greer undone—that’s the look she has right now, and it’s completely at odds with the smooth sophistication she exuded in New York. Both are sexy, but this is more . . . real.

  “Are you ready to be served?” Rea asks.

  “We are, thank you. Would you like a hand?”

  “No, sir. I have it all ready.”

  Greer weaves her fingers through mine and together we walk toward the table. The ocean is dark, and the only light on the patio comes from the candle on the table and the glow of iron fixtures attached to the cement walls of the house.

  “Romantic,” she whispers.

  “Rea did a hell of a job.” And from the aroma wafting off the plates she’s carrying behind us, she knocked dinner out of the park as well. She sets them on the table as I pull out Greer’s chair for her.

  “Everything look good?”

  “It looks amazing,” Greer replies. “Thank you.”

  “I’ll bring the wine, and then I’ll leave you two alone.”

  She bustles away as I seat myself across from Greer.

  When Rea returns with the bottle and departs with a smile, we unwrap the cloth napkins from around our silverware and dig into the meal.

  Greer’s moaning with pleasure over the lobster, and I want her moaning like that on my cock.

  Soon. She has no idea what she’s in for. Tonight, I’m going to show her exactly what it means to be mine.

  All day, I’ve been wishing I could call Banner and beg for advice. My best friend would get my head on straight. I asked Cav if we could pretend that this was real, that we were an us, and I got the tropical island fantasy version of it.

  So, why am I panicking now? Because pretending this is real is pulling me down a path that terrifies me. This was supposed to be a fling, and then I had to go and change the rules, putting my heart in jeopardy.

  I’ve always struggled to be a live in the moment kind of girl. My brain doesn’t stop at oh, today is a great day, I should enjoy this. No, I’m always thinking about what happens next. And for me and Cav, what’s next is a gray and murky space.

  Without cell service or Wi-Fi, I can’t throw this problem at Banner and get her slightly crass but real advice. WWBD. What would Banner do? I can hear her voice in my head.

  He’s hot as shit, Greer. Fuck the hell out of the guy. Get as many orgasms as you can and save those memories for a rainy day with your vibrator. And make sure to give me all the dirty details. But whatever you do, don’t let your heart get involved, you silly little sap.

  The voice is right. I need to take everything I can from this moment and hold the memories close like I did the ones from three years ago. Ride the high, but fortify the walls of my heart to protect against the inevitable crash.

  The entire time my mind is furiously working at problem solving, I’m also caught up with staring at Cav.

  Never in a million years could I have anticipated that we’d be having a candlelit dinner with the sound of the ocean waves crashing on the beach only feet away. Even my fantasies are never this creative.

  Several minutes have passed since the last word of conversation, and he’s staring at me as well.

  “Your dinner okay?”

  I look down at my plate, which I’ve nearly cleared already.

  “Amazing. I could eat like this every day. It’s easy to get spoiled by the food here.”

  “It’s easy to get spoiled by a lot of things here,” he replies. “Especially having you naked in my arms every night.”

  I shiver at the memories of Cav waking me up in the most decadent ways. Losing sleep in the middle of the night isn’t a concern when orgasms are a guarantee.

  It also makes me want to heed the advice I think Banner would give.

  “I’ve gotten spoiled by that too. And the orgasms. You make me greedy.”

  Cav’s hazel eyes are golden-green tonight, and at my words, they take on an intense light that’s becoming familiar.

  “Your ice cream is going to have to wait because I want my dessert first.” He stands and picks up both our empty plates. “Get up here. I want your legs spread so I can eat that pretty pussy.”

  Blinking at how quickly Cav stole control of this moment and changed gears, I find myself standing and then coming around to his side as he clears the rest of the dishes.

  When he returns from inside and the fastest dinner cleanup I’ve ever seen, I’m still not sitting on the table like he ordered.

  “You must want me to remind you what I do to bad girls who don’t follow the orders I give them.” The deep, forbidding tone of Cav’s voice promises that I’m going to love what he’s planning. “Bend over the table and lift up your dress.”

  Shivers ripple through me, and they have nothing to do with the breeze coming off the ocean.

  My logical mind fights the order for a second too long. Cav reaches out, his hands gripping me around the waist, and pulls me where he wants me. One hand fists my hair and the other presses against the small of my back until my chest connects with the tablecloth.

  “You like when I put you where I want you, don’t you, baby girl?”

  “I don’t know,” I whisper, my fingers curling around the opposite edge of the table.

  “Don’t lie to me or yourself,” he says, his voice low as he flips up the skirt of my dress. “It’s just going to make your punishment last longer.”

  “Is it really punishment if I like it?” I have no idea where the devil inside me came from who uttered that question.

  Cav turns my head to the side so I can see his face. His expression is wicked. “You’re my bad, dirty girl.” His other hand moves from the small of my back down to the bare skin of my ass. “And tonight I’m going to show you just how dirty you were made to be.”

  His eyes gleam as he releases his grip on my hair and lands a strike on my left cheek. The burning sting that I’ve become well acquainted with under Cav’s hand warms my skin, and heat builds between my legs.

  Three more sharp smacks come before he stops.

  “Spread your legs,” he orders.

  I follow his command, uncaring who could see the depraved sight of me bent over the table, Cav turning my ass red.

  “Finally, my dirty girl is following orders. Almost makes me feel guilty that I’m going to do this.”

  As my mind struggles to keep up with his words, a whoosh of cold air rushes toward my clit and Cav’s palm connects.

  “Ahhh!” I jerk against the table, but I’m pinned in place b
y Cav’s hand in my hair and I can’t move any further.

  When his hand comes back, I tense, but instead of delivering another strike, he cups my pussy.

  “When I tell you I want your ass on the table and legs spread so I can eat this cunt, the only question you should be asking is how wide. Understand me, baby girl?”

  His expression dares me to contradict him, followed by a smirk of triumph. He can feel the wetness his filthy words produce dripping onto his palm.

  Dammit. How can I protest something he knows turns me into a panting mess?

  Cav’s thick fingers stroke my clit, and my hips press against them, wanting more pressure. More everything. Without warning, he pulls back and delivers another slap to my clit.

  This time it’s my moan echoing across the water, and I’m shameless because I don’t care who hears me.

  He circles my clit with one blunt fingertip. “Now, what exactly am I going to do with you tonight? Fuck your face? Pound into your pussy so you’re still feeling me when we sit down for dinner tomorrow night?”

  The daring devil inside me speaks before thinking. “Yes. All of it.”

  His thumb slides back toward my ass. “And this. You’re ready for a hard cock up this tight little ass.”

  Heat zings from my hard nipples to my clit, and I’m equal parts terrified and excited.

  Bold, Greer. Grab every moment you can.

  “Yes. To everything.”

  Cav’s groan is gratifying, but I miss his fingers as soon as he moves them away.

  “Wha—” The question on my lips is cut off as he pulls me off the table to a standing position, only to pick me up once again and sit my ass on it.

  “Wide.”

  One word. One order. That’s all it takes for my body to respond to him in ways it has never responded to another man.

  I’m so screwed. But at least I’m going to enjoy it.

  I spread my legs like the shameless dirty girl he calls me as Cav lowers himself to his knees and grips each of my inner thighs with a palm.

  “Fucking beautiful. I love the taste of this sweet pussy.” And he devours me.