Welcome to the Blog Tour for Dirty Girl (Dirty Girl Duet #1) by Meghan March hosted by Inkslinger PR ❤
Check out my review for this first installment (that DOES end in a cliffhanger) as well as a little sneak peak that will definitely have you drooling for more!
Enjoy your visit, lovelies ❤
Desperately seeking rich, famous, single guy with a giant cock to make my lying, cheating, should’ve-been-born-dickless ex-boyfriend realize what he’s just lost.
Oh, and I give great head. Just sayin’.
No man in his right mind would answer that ad.
Except thousands did.
My name is Greer Karas, and I should never be allowed near another bottle of booze again. Because when I drink, my friend and I do stupid things. Like take a page out of my older brother Creighton’s playbook and post something completely asinine on the Internet. Waking up with a giant hangover to find my humiliating personal ad has gone viral is not my finest moment.
Cue my look of shock when one of Hollywood’s hottest new bad boys, Cavanaugh Westman, comes knocking at my door and drops his pants to prove that he does indeed have a giant cock.
What he doesn’t have is an explanation for why he disappeared from my life without a word three years ago, only to show up on the big screen two years later, killing bad guys in action flicks.
And now he wants me again.
What the hell do I do now?
Disclaimer: This is a DUET as in it ends in a CLIFFHANGER! Enjoy! 😀
I fell in love with Meghan’s writing in her Beneath Series and the Flashbang series – her way of writing is not only pretty but it is powerful and definitely, almost always worth a re-read!
So even though I really hate cliffhangers, it was the fact that it is Meghan’s books that made the decision for me to actually read this book! And boy, did Meghan NOT disappoint!
Cavanaugh Westman is the man who got away for Greer Karas (sister to Creighton Karas from the Dirty Billionaire Trilogy) – and one drunken decision of posting an add online (from what I read, very similar to what her brother did, but can’t say for sure since I haven’t read the trilogy!) – bought the one man who stood her up three years ago – the one man who was the one she fell in love with, though she would deny it with her dying breath!
“… I knew she needed a man to keep her out of trouble. Seems that some things haven’t changed. As soon as this project is wrapped, I’ll be on that jet to New York, and Greer Karas and I are going to get reacquainted. Intimately.”
Now Greer being the sister of a billionaire, of course the ad went viral. Of course she became the talk of the town. Of course it bought back the one man she hasn’t let go off – but does that mean she falls on to her knees thanking fates, you are getting it wrong – she falls to her knees for an altogether different reason! *tehehehe*
Greer is a woman scorned, and even if her physical tendencies end up over ruling her sense, she doesn’t really give it up that easy! She isn’t exactly the submissive kind, nor is she is the naive one – and that is something I absolutely adored about her. She gave Cav the run for his money and that is so much fun to read about!
“Three years ago, I walked before I could dirty up her pristine little world. But now? All bets are off.”
Now Cavanaugh is a famous actor – which is a far cry from the janitor he used to be when he first met Greer. While he is as self-assured and confident he was three years ago – now (he believes) they on equal footing.
Damn, if you don’t want to do exactly what Cav wanted – I mean he is literally one of the HOTTEST heroes I’ve had the pleasure of reading in a really LOONG time! Even with Greer’s backbone, it wasn’t really hard to see WHY she ended up doing exactly what he wanted – in the physical sense.
Cav’s devotion jumps out of every single emotion he feels, every decision he makes and not to mention, every single way he shows it – and that is only because of the way Meghan wrote him. Perfection from every single pore of him and that is one commendable job that Meghan did.
Now, let’s just say that Cav is keeping secrets, but whilst I guessed one of the reason WHY he left Greer hanging – in no way culd I have guessed the MAIN reason for him leaving! *like seriously water sprouting out of the mouth kind of shock here*
“Life doesn’t always give us second chances, but this one is mine and I’m taking it. And her.”
Now, coming to the slight issues that I had (which tbh, were quite overshadowed by Cav’s Perfection!) is that this installment, whilst having some really good bed hopping scenes, was somewhat low on the”getting to know” part of the book, and that fact that this is a Second Chance Romance, it really needed that part more than it needed the physical aspect. but since it’s duet – I am keeping my hopes up high that together, this duet would answer everything – especially with Cav’s perfection in line 😛
The story continues in Dirty Love – and honestly, after THAT CLIFFHANGER, I really can’t wait 😀
“I would lie, cheat, and steal to call this woman my own.”
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ .5
No. Fucking. Way.
Can you photoshop real life? Because that’s the only way I can possibly be seeing through my peephole what I’m seeing right now.
Cavanaugh Westman. In the flesh. Outside my door.
The knock stopped me mid-shuffle on the way to my coffeemaker. So that makes me an uncaffeinated, makeup-less, messy-bunned, legging-wearing couch surfer who hasn’t showered in the two days I’ve spent holed up in my apartment.
He can’t see me like this.
I’ve had so many fantasies of how it will go when I finally came face-to-face with Cav again. I’ll be wearing something sexy, yet classy. Perfect hair, makeup, eyebrows. I’ll adopt a casually disinterested mien. He’ll be devastated when he realizes what he missed out on by standing me up that night and disappearing without a word.
There’s no way in hell I’m answering that door. Cav Westman can sit out in my hallway all day. Not opening it.
But Cav reads my mind, the bastard.
“Open the door, baby girl. Your message came through loud and clear with that ad.”
A barely audible gasp escapes my lungs.
“That’s right, I know you’re standing there. So, open the door, Greer.”
His deep, gravelly voice stirs memories I thought I wiped out of my brain. Apparently not.
I rush to the couch to grab my phone. I need to text Banner. Need to freak out with her and schedule an emergency spa day so I can be all the things I need to be before facing him again.
My thoughts come to a screeching halt. I do not need to impress Cav Westman. He’s nothing to me. And I can prove it right now by opening the door. He’ll see exactly how much I don’t care about his opinion.
Before I can change my mind, or look down at my shirt to make sure I’m not sporting any stains from yesterday’s coffee, I reach for the dead bolts and unlock them before I twist the doorknob and tug.
As soon as the door is open, I know I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Through the peephole, he was marginally distorted. On the billboards and movie posters plastered to the sides of buses in the city, he looked like a total stranger. But Cav in the flesh?
I lose my grip on the door and it swings open.
How does he not look older? No new lines bracket his mouth or crease the corners of his eyes. Instead, a new scar curves along his jaw, giving him a sexier, more dangerous look. His shoulders are impossibly broader, making his hips seem even narrower.
His hazel eyes flash as he takes me in—at least they haven’t changed. Today they’re more tawny gold than gray or green. Guessing what color they would be was part of the game I played with myself before. His dark brown hair is sexy and disheveled, longer than the buzz cut he had before, but everything else is the same. Worn jeans, a plain T-shirt, and scuffed boots. Strong, bold features that many a man would find impossible to carry off, but are the reason millions of women would line up to have Cavanaugh Westman’s babies.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, reminding myself that I no longer have some naive fantasy of being the one for Cav.
His gaze returns to my face, and I know his inspection of me can’t be nearly as flattering as mine of him.
I’m waiting for him to say something . . . anything. Like an apology or an explanation for disappearing three years ago, but instead I get something completely different.
His hands drop to the button of his jeans. “Based on your ad, the inspection isn’t quite complete.”
If my jaw could drop to the floor like a cartoon character’s, it would.
Oh. My. God. I never saw what he was packing before, only a grazing handful the one night I finally got bold, but he put me off, promising me a night that never happened.
I stand like a slack-jawed moron and force my gaze to his face.
“What are you doing?”
His wicked grin—one he uses so rarely, even in the movies of his I’ll never admit I’ve seen—wipes away the three years between our past and present.
The hiss of the zipper comes next.
I keep my gaze on his face as his eyes dare me. To look or to stop him, I’m not sure which.
“Apparently you’ve changed your requirements for wooing, baby girl.”
The endearment on his lips brings back another wave of memories, but the flex of his bicep against the sleeve of his T-shirt steals my attention.
Oh. My. God.
He’s gripping his cock, stroking it, isn’t he? All I have to do is look down, and I’ll have more than one question answered.
“You know you wanna look.”
The dare is there again. And he’s right. I want to look. So I do.
Oh. My. Hell.
Well, let’s just say Cav knocked that requirement out of the park. The sight of his long, thick cock in his big, capable hand sends heat rushing south through my body, pooling between my thighs. My nipples, sans bra, strain against the material of my shirt. Cav’s gaze drops as well—to my chest.
The room pulses with a desperate intensity. Hanging between us is the night we never had. The one he walked away from.
I have two choices. Take what I want, what I asked for, or hold on to the rejection he dealt me three years ago.
My brain short-circuits on one thought—life is short, and you never know if you’ll get a second chance.
So I step forward, wrap one hand around his neck and the other around his cock, and kiss him for everything I’m worth.
Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at firstname.lastname@example.org.