Dirty Money

by Jessica Clare

Ivy pauses as she pulls out the electric clippers and glances around the bathroom counter. “Did I?”

  I reach out and slide one of her bra straps down her shoulder. “Part of our deal was that you’d be naked, remember?”

  As I watch, the flush moves over her skin. It’s like it’s racing from her breasts to her cheeks, which is fascinating. “Oh.”

  “But I’m a gentleman,” I declare. “You can keep your panties on.”

  She gives me a wry look. “Boone, there are many words I’d choose to describe you, but I don’t think ‘gentleman’ is ever one of them.”

  “You like me all rough around the edges, though.” I move the other bra strap down her other shoulder, and lean in to kiss her skin, just because she looks so good. Smells incredible, too. Like fresh soap and soft, girly flowers. Love that.

  “I do, it seems,” she murmurs, even as I lean in to kiss her again.

  My arms go around her and I find the clasp of her bra and undo it, even as our mouths lock. One moment of hesitation from her and I’ll stop what I’m doing. I want her to feel she has some control and not that I’m charging over her like a bull. I leave the clasp alone and focus on kissing her, instead. I could kiss this woman all day, just because her tongue feels like heaven against mine. She moans when I deepen the kiss, her arms curling around my neck. One of her feet rubs against the outside of my thigh and I wish that damn foot was rubbing on my cock, it feels so good.

  She breaks off the kiss and I can’t resist getting one last peck in before she gives her head a dazed little shake. “I suppose we’d better get started.”

  “I suppose,” I drawl, though I’m more interested in kissing her than getting my beard cut up.

  Ivy gives me a nervous look, and then tugs her bra the rest of the way off. She tosses it onto the floor in a slow, casual motion, and then straightens on the counter, her back slightly arched. It’s almost like she’s waiting for me to pass judgment on her tits.

  As if they’d ever be anything but perfection.

  Her breasts are everything I’ve been dreaming they would be. Creamy, round handfuls tipped with the prettiest tight pink nipples that are begging for my mouth. Gorgeous. “You’re a real pretty sight, Ivy.”

  “I know,” she says confidently, but her skin is covered with nervous goosebumps. She picks up the electric shaver again and then crooks her finger at me.

  I lean in obediently. “Do I get to touch your tits once you’ve cleaned me up?”

  “I’ll think about it,” she teases.

  “Be kind to a poor, humble man.”

  She snorts. “You are neither poor nor humble. Now, hold still.”

  I close my eyes because I don’t want to see the travesty she’s going to make of my beard. The clippers buzz angrily and I can feel her movements as she works on my beard. Man, if this looks awful, my brothers are going to give me such shit—

  “Okay, done with the beard,” Ivy says a scarce moment after she started.

  “Already?” I open my eyes and she’s smiling at me.

  “Yeah, just wanted to clean up the sides a bit.” She strokes my beard, examining me. “We could get you a bit of beard oil and shape things, if you wanted.”

  “You gonna do it for me?” I say gruffly, because her touching me is one of the best things I’ve ever experienced. I’d probably be willing to let her turn my beard pink if she’d keep stroking it like she is. My gaze falls to those pretty, bouncy tits. God, I can’t wait to touch her.

  “I can. What do you think?”

  “I think those are the nicest tits I’ve ever seen.” My mouth is watering just looking at them.

  “No, about your beard, silly.” There’s a tremble in her voice now, even though she’s trying to keep things light. “We’re not doing anything with my tits.”

  “Not yet,” I drawl, and finally focus in on the mirror. Huh. I run my hand along my jaw. I’m not all wild looking anymore. I’ve still got a thick beard, but she’s cleaned up the sides and my moustache, and trimmed some of the stray hairs. I still look like me, just a bit tidier. “Huh.”

  “Do you like it?”

  “You managed to make me look even more devastatingly handsome,” I tell her playfully.

  She just grins and gives a little wiggle on the counter like she’s pleased. “I have a good subject.”

  “Do I get a prize?” I slide my hand down her arm, gliding over her soft, lovely skin. “Because I can think of something I’d like in my mouth right about now . . .”

  “I haven’t even touched your hair yet,” Ivy murmurs, shifting a little closer to me when I lean in. “And I’m covered in your beard hair. Look.” She gestures down at her gorgeous thighs and there’s a few stray sprinkles of my hair on her skin, but not enough to thwart a man. “So you need to wait.”

  I sigh. “All right. If I must.”

  “This time I need you to sit on the toilet, I think, so I can work on your hair.” She dusts her legs off and hops down off the counter, sauntering across the enormous bathroom to the toilet and gesturing at it.

  I groan but do as she asks. I lower the seat, adjust the towel around my neck, and give her a grumpy look as she comes to my side with a comb and a pair of the world’s tiniest scissors. I’m getting tired of all this grooming—

  Or I am until she moves between my knees and then starts to comb my hair. It puts her naked, delicious breasts right in front of my face.

  Well, now. This just got a lot more interesting.

  She raises her arms and starts to clip my hair. As she does, her breasts move higher, and then jiggle with the motion of her hands. I groan, tempted beyond belief. Does she know how it feels like eternity since I last touched her? I ain’t a patient man, and she’s presenting me with something impossible to resist.

  I reach out and brush my hand over the tip of one of those delectable breasts.

  Ivy gasps and her hands jerk against my hair. “Boone,” she protests weakly.

  “Don’t care,” I tell her, and wrap my arms around her waist. I pull her against me and nuzzle one of those sexy little breasts, because I’m tired of waiting. “I want you,” I tell her, peppering kisses onto her skin.

  She moans and I feel her hands clench against my shoulders. “You shouldn’t touch me,” she breathes. “I think I just cut off a big chunk of hair.”

  “Don’t care,” I repeat. She can finish this groomin’ shit later. It’s time for me to claim her. Now that I’ve got my mouth on her? I’m not going to let her slip out of my grip. I rub my mouth across one of her nipples. It’s tight and hard, but her skin is so soft and smells so sweet, and I can feel her entire body tremble when I do that. I graze my mouth over it again, then drag my tongue over the tip.

  Ivy cries out, and I hear the scissors and the comb drop to the floor. A moment later, she’s ripping the towel off my shoulders and running her hands over my skin.

  Guess I’m not the only one that no longer cares about my hair. Good.

  I tongue her sweet nipple for a moment, teasing it with little flicks before I give it a nip. She whimpers my name, her entire body shuddering, and then I move over to her other breast. She practically drags my head to it, one hand tangling in my hair. Not shy any longer, my Ivy. Love that. Love how she can forget everything when I touch her.

  I need her in my bed, now.

  I push to my feet and a small protest escapes her as my mouth leaves her skin. She gives me a dazed look, her brows drawn together. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” I tell her, caressing her lovely cheek. “Other than we ain’t in bed and I’m fixin’ to amend that.” I lean in, squatting down a little. “Arms around my neck, baby girl.”

  She does.

  I haul her against me, those hot little breasts rubbing up against my bare chest. Goddamn. She wraps those long legs of hers around my waist and lean
s in, running her mouth over every inch of my skin she can get her hands on.

  Jesus, this woman. She’s amazing.

  I plant my hands on her ass and haul her into the next room, over to the bed. I want to throw her down onto it and cover her with my body, but I need to be gentle and go slow with Ivy our first time. I gotta find out her boundaries, what she likes, what she doesn’t, and what spots make her crazy. So I set her down gently on the edge of the bed and kneel between her legs. I put one arm around her waist and start to kiss every inch of her skin: her neck, her collarbones, her ear, her shoulder. “Take your hair down for me,” I command her. “Wanna feel it all over me.”

  She nods and reaches behind her head, pulling out pin after pin from her hair. It seems to take forever, but then she pulls out a band and gives a final shake of her hair . . . and then it’s loose and spread across the bedspread. And she’s fucking beautiful. She gives me a shy smile. Her long, silky hair gleams like sunlight, and I can’t help but take a handful of it in my grip and rub it across my face. It smells clean and soft and just as good as the rest of her.

  “You’re fucking beautiful, Ivy.” I move in to kiss that pouty mouth of hers again, pushing my body between her thighs. She’s under me on the bed, and she feels perfect. “And you’re all mine. You know that, right? That once I claim you, you’re mine forever.”

  “I know,” she says in a small, breathless voice, and it makes me even harder to hear her acknowledge that.

  I kiss her fiercely, my tongue dragging against hers in a rough claim. With every thrust into her mouth, I rock between her thighs, pushing my cock against her panties. I want her to feel every inch of me, to know what it means to be claimed. To be mine.

  And I want her to love it.

  She moans against my mouth as the kisses grow deeper, clinging to my shoulders. Her little fingernails dig into my skin, but I love the sharp feeling of it, especially when she scratches at my back. It’s like she can’t control herself when I touch her. I love making her crazy like that.

  I kiss down her neck and over to her breasts again, teasing one with my fingers while I nip and suck at the other. She arches against the bedspread, her hands moving to my hair as I pleasure her. When her breasts are pink from the scratch of my beard and her nipples are red from all the sucking I’ve done, I start to kiss lower. I want to make her come like she did in the car. I need it.

  Already I’m addicted to her.

  I kiss her rounded, soft belly even as I tug on the waistband of her panties. “Time to get rid of these.”

  “Yes,” she moans, and she’s no longer shy. Now she’s just eager. She lifts her hips and I take the invitation, pulling the panties down her hips and thighs.

  There’s my girl. I stare at her bare pussy, my mouth watering at the sight. It was pretty before, with neat little curls shielding her folds. But smooth like this? I can’t stop staring. I run my hand over that smooth skin and then cup it.

  She whimpers my name, arching up on the bed again.

  “I’m gonna lick ya, baby. Patience. I just need to admire your handiwork first.” I trace a finger along her pink, dusky folds.

  “Do you like it?”

  “I like it,” I tell her, and then part her folds with one fingertip and rub her clit. “But I liked it the other way, too. You’re fucking sexy no matter what you do . . . and you’re wet as hell right now.” It’s like a hot little lagoon under my fingers, and I can’t wait to drink her up. “Now, tell me what you want me to do, baby.”

  She makes a little mewing sound and spreads her legs wider, which is so sexy it nearly fries my brain. “I want you to keep touching me.” She sounds breathless, and her hand steals down to rub over her bare pussy. “And your mouth. God, your mouth. I want that, too.”

  “You’re gonna get both, sweetheart.” And I’m gonna make her come so damn hard.

  I lower my head and rub my face against her bare, smooth mound. Her excited little cries and the way she moves against me make my dick harder than a rock. I love how shyly enthusiastic she is. Like she thinks she should be all ladylike, but the moment I touch her, all bets are off. Even now, her hands are fisting in my hair and I know she’s just moments away from shoving my head down against her pussy in a silent demand for my mouth.

  Thing is, she doesn’t even have to ask. I’m more than willing to give it to her.

  I lower my mouth onto her and give her sweetness an exploratory lick.

  “Oh god, Boone,” she moans, and her body jerks in response.

  “Love it when you say my name,” I tell her, and drag my tongue over her sweet pussy again. “Maybe we should play a game.”

  “G-game?” Her voice is quivering almost as much as her thighs.

  “Yup. Like, I’m not gonna be able to stop myself from kissing you here,” I tell her, and punctuate my words with a few demonstrations. “But if you want me to stop playing and really work this pussy over? I’m gonna need you to say my name. That’s how you’re gonna tell me that you need more.”

  “You shouldn’t call my girl parts ‘pussy,’” she breathes, her hips rolling slightly as her head goes back on the bedspread. “You make it sound so filthy.”

  “Baby, the things I’m going to do to this pussy are filthy.” My classy woman has no idea just how filthy this roughneck can get. “Or would you prefer I called it your little cunt?”

  “Oh god, no,” she moans, but she rocks her hips again.

  “Sounds to me like you like it,” I drawl, and bury my face in her folds, licking and nibbling at every inch of skin. I deliberately avoid her clit, because that’s part of the game. I want to make her beg for it, just because it’s so fucking delicious when she does. “Maybe it makes you all wet when I say ‘cunt.’ Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth down here and find out.”

  I tongue the opening to her core, and yup, she’s incredibly wet and juicy. She might not like to say filthy words, but she sure does like it when I say them.

  Ivy moans again, and her hands tighten on my hair. “You’re terrible,” she breathes, one of her heels digging into my shoulder.

  I don’t move other than to press a few light kisses on those soft pink petals, because I’m waiting for her to ask for more.

  A long moment passes, and her little heel digs into my shoulder again, like she’s trying to shove me forward and plant my face against her pussy again. When that doesn’t work, she says my name in a soft protest. “Boone.”

  “That gets a reward,” I tell her, and push her folds apart with my fingers, exposing her clit. I drag my tongue over it, hard, and then circle around it. All the while, she makes little choking noises of delight. “You gotta keep saying my name to encourage me, darlin’. You know what I like.”

  “You’re terrible.”

  She makes it sound like a caress instead of an admonition. “Doesn’t matter. You love it.” Her smooth little mound is so plump and pretty I can’t help but give it a little nip. “Love this sweet cunt of yours.”

  Ivy whimpers, and I can feel her getting even wetter. Yep, this woman definitely loves dirty talk. It’s like she can’t let loose herself, so she’s gonna get all hot and bothered when I do.

  Which is fine by me.

  So I go into great detail about her pussy. I describe it in great, filthy detail and all the things I want to do to her. How I’m going to use my mouth. How I’m going to use her body. Where I’m going to put my fingers and my tongue, and then I demonstrate those things for her when she calls out my name again. All the while, she’s getting wetter and juicier for me, and my own cock is aching in my pants like it’s going to explode.

  But my needs are secondary to hers. She needs to come first, and then I’ll worry about myself.

  “I ain’t hearin’ my name, darlin’,” I murmur as I press light kisses on her mound. My thumb strokes the inside of her soft thigh, tickling her skin.


  “Boone,” she says dutifully, and so I give her a lick.

  Just a light one.

  She makes a sound of frustration.

  “Let me rephrase,” I say, between nips. “I ain’t hearing my name with conviction.” When she moans a protest, I drag the tip of my tongue along her slit. “Sometimes a man needs a bit of encouragement.”

  “Oh please,” she says derisively, her hands tightening in my hair again. “As if you ever needed any kind of encouragement—”

  “Just for that, I oughta spank the naughtiness out of you.”

  “Boone,” she moans again, and this time there’s a bit more oomph to it. It’s frustration and need all bundled up into one, and it sounds real pretty to my ears. So I reward it, stroking a finger against her core even as my tongue goes to her clit and teases it.

  “Now that’s more like it,” I murmur against her skin, and slick my tongue over her wetness. She tastes beautiful, and it’s a pleasure to put my mouth on her. I push my finger into her heat, and she’s tight, impossibly tight, given how wet she is. My balls tighten against me as I imagine pushing into her warmth, her cunt so tight around my cock it’s like a fist. Fuck. I need this woman bad.

  Ivy cries out as I thrust my finger slowly into her. “Boone! Oh god, Boone.”

  Fuck this game, I decide. I need to be inside her, but I need to make her come first. So, enough with the playing. I dedicate my mouth to her clit—licking and sucking alternately. I drag my tongue against the small nub of flesh. All the while, I slowly thrust one finger into her, then add another, because she needs to stretch if she’s going to take my cock.

  My name turns into a string of whimpers on her lips, and her body jerks with every push of my fingers into her warmth. Her entire body is trembling, and her hips are arching, so I wrap one arm around her thigh, holding her in place while I pleasure her.

  A moment later, she screams, her hands rough on my hair. I can feel her head thrashing on the blankets—not that I can look up, because I’m focused on my task. Her cunt is tightening hard around my fingers, and I don’t stop thrusting. I want to wring out every bit of this orgasm, and so I suck on her clit harder.