Dirty Money(19)

It's not my hand I want, it's her. It's Ivy. My need for her hasn't  lessened an iota since making her come. Just because I could walk away  from her doesn't mean that I'm not raging out of control. I hold her  panties to my face and inhale deeply again, stroking my cock with quick,  angry jerks. I can take the edge off, but it won't be enough. I know  that already.

I need her.

I want her.

I take the panties and wrap them around my cock, using the scrap of  cotton to get myself off. It doesn't take long, and then I explode, my  cum splattering on my clothes and my hand. I lie in bed for a moment,  trying to catch my breath. And then I'm just irritated with myself.

That was the saddest fucking thing ever.

I wish it had been Ivy's hand on my cock. Her mouth brushing over my  skin, her fingers curling around my dick. Funny how I've just come and  yet it didn't do a thing for me. I still feel that gnawing hunger for  her, that obsessive need, and I realize it's not about my pleasure.

It's about hers.

I need to see her come. I want her underneath me, her cunt clenched  tight around my cock as I bury myself in her. I want to see her tits  bounce when I fuck her. I want to see her mouth open in a silent cry  when I thrust into her. I want to see her reactions, taste her sweat,  lick her honey.

I want all of Ivy. It ain't about me anymore. It's about her.

I get out of bed and clean myself off, then change clothes into a ribbed  white tank and a pair of running shorts. I grab my phone, find Ivy's  texts, and send her a note.

B P: You awake?

I glance at the time. It's not too late. Elevenish. I'm wide awake,  still surging on the adrenaline from being around her earlier today.  Maybe she is, too.

Her response dings a moment later, and my heart speeds up like I'm some sort of damn schoolboy.

Ivy: I'm here. What's up?

B P: Thinking about you, that's all.

Ivy: Did you find a listing you like and want me to call about seeing?

B P: No. I just jerked off on your panties.

Her texts stop. I see the three dots that tell me that she's typing  flash up on the screen, and then they disappear. They flash up again,  then vanish once more. She trying to think about what to say to me?  That's cute. I picture her, all adorably flustered, her cheeks red.  Amused, I watch the three dots move back and forth, and then finally,  she answers.         

     



 

Ivy: Well.

Ivy: I guess I won't ask if I can have them back.

B P: You can if you come get them.

Again, the three dots blink, and then disappear. I laugh aloud, because she's just too damn cute. I love making her flustered.

Ivy: You can keep them. I don't know that I want them back at this point.

B P: That's a shame. I was just looking for any excuse to see you again. Maybe send me a sexy pic of you?

Ivy: A selfie?

B P: Yeah. You want me to send you one of me?

Ivy: No!! It'll probably be your junk and then I'm gonna have to explain that to my sister the next time she grabs my phone.

B P: That's cute. I like that you wouldn't delete it, but save it. ;)

Ivy: Ha.

B P: I also love how you don't answer me when you get all shy. You just keep trying to divert me.

Ivy: Did you want to talk about houses, Boone?

B P: See, there you go again. I'm trying to get you to come over because  I'm thinking about you, and you keep changing the subject.

B P: So let me be blunt.

B P: I've been thinking about you all night. I want you to come over. I want to taste you again.

I wait for those three little dots to start fluttering up on my screen  again while she figures out her answer. To my surprise, my phone buzzes  with an incoming call. Ivy. Hot damn. I pick up, doing my best to sound  all lazy and bored, when all I really want to do is grin with delight.  "Hello."

"You're serious?" Her voice is soft. "You want me to come over?"

"I am absolutely serious."

"Why?"

"Why?" I repeat, amused. "Why do I want you to come over? Because you're  smoking hot and just fondling your panties ain't doing enough for me?  Because I've had the taste of you on my lips all day and I'm hungry for  more? Because I like your smile, and your laugh, and I like that little  noise you make when you come even more. Because-"

"Okay." Her voice is so low and breathless that I almost think I'm imagining it.

"Okay?"

"Yes. I'll . . . come over."

"I'm not pushin' ya too hard, am I?" She still sounds a little reluctant  to my ears. "Because I only want this if you want me, too. It ain't any  fun otherwise-"

"Quit talking, Boone, before I lose my bravado." Now she just sounds exasperated.

I laugh then. She ain't turned off, she's just shy. "I'm shuttin' up."

There's a breathless little chuckle on her end, and then I hear the  sound of rustling. "I'm getting a pen and paper. Give me your address."

I glance around my trailer. "I feel obligated to warn you that this ain't a palace."

"I know that. That's why I'm trying to sell you a palace," she teases.

"I'm serious, Ivy. It's a trailer. Kinda a shit show of a trailer, to  boot. Lots of girls don't like that sort of thing." I've found that out  many a time. Girls are real hot to go back to your place with you until  they find out it's on wheels. Then they find a real quick reason to  leave. I gaze around at my place, trying to see it in her eyes. It's  messy, but it ain't falling down too much. I can straighten up a bit  before she arrives and make it suitable for her if she can get past the  whole "trailer" part.

"I don't care that it's a trailer, Boone." The laughter is gone from her  voice. "Do you really think I'm that much of a snob? I happen to-" She  hesitates and then sighs. "Actually, never mind. I just want you to know  I really don't care if you're living in a cardboard box, Boone. We're  getting you a big impressive house just like you wanted, and even if you  wanted to stay there, your house doesn't change who you are."

She's a real peach, defending my shitty digs. I like this girl more and  more every day. "You are real sweet, Ivy. But you know, if I wanted to  stay here, that means you can't sell me some fancy house-"

"Which is why I'm going to come over there before you change your mind."

"Lies," I drawl. "You just want your pussy licked again."         

     



 

She makes an outraged sound. Again, she's fussin' but she ain't denying  things. I love that I've figured her out. I give her my address and she  promises to be over shortly.

Time to clean up around here and find where I stashed those condoms. Not that it matters too much if I have them or not.

Long as I get her off, I'm good.





Chapter Eight



Ivy

I can't believe I'm doing this.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," I say aloud to the empty car. "Tell me  I'm crazy." It's silent, of course. Silent, but judging me.

My Geo Metro putters down the gravel road toward Boone's trailer. I  thought long and hard about rushing to the office and borrowing one of  the Town Cars for tonight, but ultimately opted against it. I can't  afford to lose my job just because I'm horny, and I'd definitely be in  trouble if I got caught taking one of the work cars after hours. So I  have a story planned-this will be my sister's car, and mine is in the  shop getting the tires rotated. Or something. My false veneer of Elegant  Ivy Smithfield will be retained despite this impromptu makeout session  at his place.

And really, I shouldn't be heading over. I absolutely should not. But  it's like I've lost all impulse control when it comes to this man. The  moment he starts talking dirty to me via text, my hand goes into my  panties. And when he suggests I come over?

How can I possibly say no?

Lucky for me, Wynonna is out with friends and won't be back tonight. I  left a note just in case she comes home early, but it's almost too easy  to do this. Shouldn't it be harder to have an illicit relationship with a  guy? A few roadblocks to at least give me pause? Instead, I'm shucking  clothes the moment I hang up the phone and take a quick shower. I shave  everything, just in case. Everything. By the time I step out of the  shower, my pussy is completely bare and I'm feeling edgy and aroused,  because I want to see Boone's reaction when he notices what I've done.

It feels deliciously naughty and utterly scandalous as I slip into a  pair of silky panties. They feel completely different now that I'm bare,  and I'm getting turned on already. I put on a matching silky bra and  decide to wear one of my work suits with my highest pair of heels, since  Boone seems to find them sexy. My wet hair goes into a quick updo and  then I'm ready.

Ready to go sleep with my client. My biggest client. The one that could turn my floundering career around.

I inwardly wince because when I put it like that, it sounds so stupid to  go and chase after him. Wynonna would think I'm crazy. My bosses would  think I'm a slut.

But if I don't go, Boone is going to think I'm being a chicken.

For some reason that's what decides me. Boone's opinion is important to  me, and so I button my suit jacket (with no silk tank top underneath so  there's miles of cleavage) and grab my purse.