"Well, if I'm not, I'm reading all the signals wrong," he drawls, leaning in close. It's as if he's going to kiss me, but he keeps talking, instead, his lips lickably close.
"Signals?" I pretend innocence. "Have I been sending you signals?"
"A few."
"Such as?" I lick my lips because I want him to notice that small action and close the gap between us. I'm hungry for his mouth on mine.
"Such as the fuck-me pumps you're wearing," he murmurs, so close that his breath skitters over my face. "And the fact that when I lean in, I can see all the way down the front of your suit, right to that lacy bra. You dress like that for all your clients?"
"If I did, I'd sell a lot more real estate," I tell him, and then whisper, "Can you see that my nipples are hard?"
He groans and licks his own lips, and I'm hit with a surge of unholy lust. I want this man, bad. I nearly come out of my skin when he leans in closer. Our lips are less than an inch apart, but he still doesn't kiss me. "Ivy," he murmurs. "I think I'm going to stick my hand under your skirt anyhow to check on those panties. You won't panic since I'm warning you, right?"
"Warning me . . . or declaring me as your property?" That sexy, husky voice doesn't even sound like mine, yet it's coming out of my throat. I've never thought of myself as a vixen before. I'm definitely more of a Betty than a Veronica, and a Mary Ann than a Ginger. But in his eyes? I feel like the most exotic, erotic woman in the world.
"Same thing." His hand moves from my neck to my shoulder, and then he slowly traces one of the lapels on the front of my suit.
I remain utterly still, my body tense with anticipation. I can feel myself breathing hard; I want him to touch me. I think I want it more than anything.
His hand trails to my skirt, and then he looks at me. Our eyes lock and his expression is that intense, possessive one I've seen before, and makes me shudder.
Then, he goes under my skirt and cups me between my thighs.
I suck in a breath, because that one simple motion is more intense than anything I've ever felt.
Boone's eyes go wide and he rubs his fingers over my mound. "You shave?"
"I did a little housekeeping," I say hoarsely.
He moves one finger deliberately against my cleft, outlining it through the silk of my panties. "You think of me while you do it?"
I whimper, because he knows I did. How can I not? This man has totally claimed me. "Of course."
"You are the sexiest damn thing I have ever seen," he tells me, and then his mouth is on mine.
It's an impolite kiss. Some kisses are gentle and hesitant, almost as if they're asking permission. That's not how Boone Price kisses, though. His kiss is deliciously savage, his tongue plundering my mouth. It's like he wants to claim me with every flick of his tongue against mine, every caress of his lips. He kisses the hell out of me even as his finger drags back and forth over my panties. I cling to him, my arms going around his neck. I want to straddle his hand and rock against it, but his mouth and his tongue are leaving me just as dazed as his fingers.
It's complete and utter sensory overload.
And I want more of it.
He rubs his mouth over mine again, and his beard drags against my skin. His beard. That reminds me . . .
But then he rubs me through the panties again, hard, and I moan into his mouth. My knees go weak and I sag against him, boneless under this onslaught.
"Gonna make you come a dozen times," he rasps, kissing my jaw and then moving to my ear. His beard drags against my sensitive skin and I shudder as he licks my earlobe, the dichotomy of sensations just adding to the feeling of being overwhelmed by him. "And I'm gonna lick up all your juices as I do."
"A dozen?" I breathe. "That seems . . . like overkill."
"I'm a man that likes to do things right." He sucks on my earlobe, and another wave of pleasure rushes through me.
I have no doubt he'll do things right. Despite his uncouth appearance, he's been melting me from the moment we met. I can't resist him or his demands . . . and I don't want to.
"Can't believe you shaved this for me," he murmurs, nipping my ear. His fingers stroke over my bare pussy, and it feels like the panties I'm wearing are nonexistent. "Love how naughty you are under all those prim clothes."
I do feel naughty. He makes me feel that way. I'm swept up in the excitement of his world and I want to show him that I'm not just someone he's pushing into bed. I want to show him that I'm going there eagerly. "I brought something over," I tell him, stroking my hand over his beard when he lifts his head.
"Something kinky?" He arches an eyebrow.
"Not exactly?" I slide out of his grip, but I do notice that his hands smooth down my sides as I move away, and it sends shivers through me. I open my purse and pull out the shaving and grooming kit that I brought and show him the bag.
He looks at me, confused. Takes the bag. Unzips it and studies the implements inside. "You gonna . . . shave my balls? Really?"
"What? No!" A horrified laugh escapes me.
Boone chuckles and re-zips the bag. "Well, you came over here all shaved and pretty for me. Was wondering if you had some sort of bare-skin fetish I wasn't aware of."
I'm a virgin. I don't know that I have any fetishes . . . yet. But I don't point that out. "It's a trimming and hair clipping kit. I thought maybe we could do a little something with your beard-"
The look on his face grows shuttered. "You want to shave my face? What's the matter? I ain't pretty enough for you?"
I'm a little taken aback at how offended he is. "Not at all-"
"But I'm just not good enough looking for you to show around to your friends?" His body is stiff with anger. "Are you fucking serious, Ivy?"
Where is he getting this? "That's not what I said-"
"You didn't have to. I know where this is going and-"
"Will you let me finish?" I snap at him. "Before you go apeshit over some perceived insult?"
His brows go up, but he's silent.
I hold the kit against my chest. "I'm sorry about the cussword."
"I'm just kinda impressed that you didn't back down." A reluctant smile curves his mouth. "But fine, finish insulting me."
I roll my eyes. "What I was trying to say is that I like your beard and I find it sexy. And I was wondering if I could trim it or condition it for you so it's less flyaway and looks even more sexy. If you don't want to change a thing, I don't care. But I'm a girl and we like grooming things." I give him a prim look. "And that includes boyfriends."
The spark returns to his eyes and I can see the tension slide away from him. "So you're doing it because you want me more sexy for you?"
"I'm selfish like that."
He rubs at his jaw thoughtfully. "And it ain't an attempt to change me because you're embarrassed of me?"
"Not at all."
"Then let me meet your sister."
I freeze. That's the one thing that cannot happen. Not only will Wynonna let it slip about our financial situation or our background, but she'll throw a fit that I'm seeing Boone in the first place. "That's going to have to wait until after I sell you the house, because my sister does not approve of me dating a client. Since I don't plan on giving you or the commission up, it'll be a few weeks."
He gives me a skeptical look. "But you swear you ain't hidin' me."
"I swear I'm not." I think for a moment, then decide to sweeten the pot to push him over the edge. "But if you need convincing, I'll give you an IOU for a blow job in exchange for letting me play barbershop."
The look in Boone's eyes goes hot again. "An IOU for a blow job," he repeats.
"Yes. You can name the time or place." Look at me, so clever. I'm making it sound like this is something I'd do for him, when in reality, I've been thinking about what it'd feel like to explore him like he did me. I've never given a blow job before, but I'm dying to try out my skills on him.
I mean, if he turns me down, I'm still going to give the man a blow job. There's no question about that. I'm licking my lips just thinking about how he'll taste and feel. He's made me into a ravenous woman. He makes me want to be a bit more naughty and bold.
"So you wanna fuss with my beard, and if I let you, I get a blow job?" He gives me a skeptical look. "This don't exactly sound fair to you, baby girl."
"It's fair because we're doing the shaving for my pleasure. Seems only fair that I return the favor and give you pleasure."
"Man can't argue with that." His gaze rakes over me. "But I want you to be naked while you fuss with my hair."
Heat jolts between my thighs at the mental image. "You do?"
He nods slowly.