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Dirty Money(36)

By:Jessica Clare


I . . . can't tell him. So I undo my skirt and let it fall to the floor,  and cock my head as I gaze up at him. "I was just thinking about when  you wanted that blow job."

His eyes gleam. "You offering, baby girl?"

"Would I bring it up if I wasn't?" I arch a brow at him, trying to be coy instead of sad.

Boone rubs his knuckles along my jaw, studying my face. "You're not too  tired? I didn't bring you here for the blow job, you know."

I laugh. "A turnabout? That's not what you told me earlier."

"That's because I play dirty." He winks at me and then leans in to brush  his lips gently across mine. "Doesn't mean I'm heartless. You're tired  and not feeling well, and the last thing I wanna do is push you to do  something you ain't interested in."

"Why wouldn't I be interested?" I slowly pull my silk camisole off, and  then I'm only in my panties and bra. "Why wouldn't I want to touch you  as much as you touch me?" I smile. "Actually, you've gone down on me  plenty of times and I haven't even returned the favor."

"That's because I like the feel of your pussy on my lips, and I like the  taste of you even more." His hand drops and he cups the front of my  panties, rubbing my folds through them. "Actually wouldn't mind going  down on you right about now, baby girl."

"We are going to shower," I tell him in my sweetest voice. "And then I am going to give you a blow job. Don't distract me."

"Yes, ma'am," he drawls, a grin on his face.

I unhook my bra and turn away, removing it with a flourish before  shimmying out of my panties. I saunter toward the bathroom, naked, and  turn on the shower. The water's cold, so I wait by the tub a moment,  feeling a little nervous and a lot excited as I hear Boone stripping off  his clothing in the other room.

Then he appears in the doorway, all tanned skin and rippling muscle, and  I lose my breath. The man eats up a room when he enters, and I feel  small and fragile as he comes to stand next to me. He drags his hand  through my hair, then rubs a handful of it against his face, and for  some reason, that's the most erotic thing I've ever seen. I gasp at the  sight, my nipples hardening immediately.

He's completely naked, his cock thick and erect. I want to touch him all  over. It's my turn to explore. I crook a finger and saunter into the  bathroom, toward the spray of hot water. Bathing him might be a  pretense, but I'm excited just thinking about running my soapy hands all  over him. He's had his hands on me, pleasured me, kissed every inch of  my skin, and now I get to return the favor. The shower is one of those  plastic, boxy ones with a rippled door instead of a curtain, and for a  moment, I wish it was a sexier, more open shower. It'll have to do,  though. I push the door aside, step under the hot water, and glance over  at him, soaking my hair.         

     



 

Boone is two steps behind me, and his hand skates down my back even as  he shuts the shower door behind him. "You are perfection, you know  that?"

I turn, then slide one wet hand up his chest. "You get under the spray and I'll wash your back."

"You do know I'd be just fine with dropping to my knees and licking you  until you come on my face, don't you?" Boone strokes a gentle knuckle  down my cheek. "There's no need for being reciprocal or anything,  because making you come is entirely my pleasure."

"Not entirely," I tease. "And this isn't entirely about you, either." I  let my hand trail down his chest, heading toward his cock. "I want to do  this. I want to see how you react when I touch you, when I put my mouth  on you." I press my hands on his hips and then slowly lower to my  knees. His back blocks the spray from raining down on me, and I gaze up  at him, feeling powerful and in control despite my vulnerable position.  "I might be touching you, but this is most definitely for me."

He groans and his hand moves over my wet hair. "That so?"

"It is." My sassy words fade in favor of a low, tingling excitement that  pools between my thighs at the sight of his cock just inches from my  face. I examine him before I touch him, just because this is my first  time up close and personal with a dick. His skin is a darker shade here,  almost plum-colored on the head of his cock, and ruddy along the shaft.  A dark nest of curls shields his balls. There's a vein that dances  along the length of his shaft, zigzagging under his skin, and I trace  one finger along its path.

Boone sucks in a breath, and his hand tangles in my wet hair. For a  moment, I think he's going to force my head down toward his cock, but he  doesn't. He's determined not to push me farther than I want to go.

Luckily for him, I want to go all the way.

I curl my fingers around his length, feeling how thick he is. My fingers  can't quite meet around his shaft, and I squeeze him just to see his  reaction. A tremor rushes through his body at my touch, and as I glance  up at him, I see his nostrils flare, and his jaw clenches, like it's  taking everything in his power not to disturb me in my exploration.

But . . . I kind of want to be disturbed. Not that I want him to pull me  away, just that I want him to be so turned on by what I'm doing that he  can't help but intervene. So I decide that is my new goal-I'm going to  make him so crazy with lust that he's going to lose control. I want him  as wild as he makes me.

So I continue my exploration, letting my wet fingers glide from the head  of his cock to the underside of it, tracing along his skin. I caress  his shaft as I move my fingertips over it, and then go further down and  explore his balls. They're not the prettiest of body parts, but I like  that his skin is incredibly soft here, and when I touch him, I can hear  him suck in a breath.

His skin is scorching hot against my hand, the scent of him muskier  here, and I can't wait to put my mouth on him. I extend the tip of my  tongue and give him a cautious lick, catching a few beads of water off  the side of his cock shaft.

"That is the best damn thing I have ever seen," Boone says hoarsely  above me, and I look up to see he's holding on to the lip of the plastic  wall of the shower with white-knuckled strain.

"You like it?" I ask, a playful note in my voice. I repeat the action,  this time tracing the tip of my tongue all around the head of his cock.  Not all of the beads here are water, and I can taste a salty tang of  pre-cum. I flick my tongue over the divot to get more of his taste, and I  can feel his entire body shudder in response.

"Fuckin' love it," he grits out.

Encouraged, I wrap my hand tight around his length and focus on  pleasuring him with my tongue. I try different things to see what he  likes and what he doesn't. The slow drag of the tip of my tongue over  his skin makes his body twitch, but when I lick him like an ice cream  cone, he groans and murmurs filthy things under his breath. My lips  brushing over his cock make him exhale sharply, and when I pump him with  my hand? He ducks his head and the hand on my head leaves my hair and  clenches into a fist that he presses against one thigh.         

     



 

Poor thing's desperately trying to hold on to his control. It makes me  grin and feel even more shamelessly wicked, because I want to tear it  away from him.

I lick the head of his cock again, and then close my lips over him.

"Oh, damn," he breathes. "Oh, baby girl. Have mercy on your man."

There's not an ounce of mercy in me as I swirl my tongue over him,  figuring out how to give him the most pleasure. He likes it when I rub  the flat of my tongue against him, and he really likes it when I suck  and drag him deeper. I focus on taking as much of him into my mouth as I  can, relaxing my jaw and working on him with my tongue. I'm surprised  when the head of his cock bumps against the back of my throat and he  hisses out my name between his teeth.

"Get up," he grits a moment later, gently pulling me off of him.

I release his cock from my mouth with an audible pop and look up at him in surprise. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He drags me to my feet and pulls me against him in a hard,  fierce kiss. "I'm getting a fucking condom because I want to come inside  you, not on your mouth."

"Oh." I watch as he shoves the shower door open and storms out of the  bathroom, dripping water everywhere. A moment later he returns with a  condom packet, ripping it open with his teeth and then rolling the  sleeve of it down his length. It's amazing how fast he does that, and I  barely have time to register that he's getting back into the shower with  me when he pulls me up against him and begins to kiss me again.

I moan against his mouth, because his hand is sliding between my wet  thighs and stroking my pussy. There's no slow build between  us-everything seems to explode after a few small touches, and I'm left  aching and full of want. I squirm with need when his fingers sink deep  between my thighs, pushing into my core.