Dirty Money(24)

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 leans 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.