Dirty Money(46)

And when he teases my nipple again, at the same time he pounds into me? I  do come, and I come hard. I scream out his name, arching on the table.

"Ivy," he rasps, and then he pulls out of me. I watch, fascinated, as he  takes his cock in hand, slick with the juices from my body, and strokes  it hard. A few pumps and then he spatters my stomach with hot liquid,  his eyes closed, face contorted with the force of his pleasure.

I fight to catch my breath, panting, as he milks his cock over my belly  and thighs. It's obscene, filthy, and erotic all at once.

"Damn," he breathes when he's finished. He opens his eyes and gazes down  at me. "You are the most beautiful mess right now, covered in my cum."

I sit up on my elbows, giving him my best saucy look. "Want me to roll  over and get your leavings all over the boss man's table?"

"You filthy little thing," he says with a chuckle, and leans down to  kiss me. "But then we'll really have to burn the damn table."

I giggle, because it is filthy and I like the idea far too much. I'm  turning into some sort of deviant around him . . . and I love it. "You  still want to burn this place down?"

"Unless you want it?"

I shake my head. "I think it will make a lovely park."

His eyes gleam with amusement. "You wanna light the first match?"

"Love to." I sit up and he pulls off his shirt and begins to towel me  off with it, a look of intense concentration on his face. He's so tender  and yet . . . I'm worried. "Boone?"

"Hm?" He glances up at me.

"Where do we go from here? You and me?"

He finishes cleaning me off and tosses his shirt into a wastebasket,  leaving me with a lovely view of nothing but deeply tanned muscle. He  caresses my jaw and gazes at me thoughtfully. "Well, I thought tomorrow  I'd rent out that helicopter again and find us another black-tie party  to go crash. Because I still want to show my woman off."

There's a lump in my throat. "There's not much to show off, Boone."

He shakes his head. "That's where you're wrong, Ivy. I'd show you off  because you're the thing I'm the most proud of. You're beautiful, and  smart, and funny, and sexy, and way too good for a dumb roughneck like  me. I'd show you off because all those other bastards would be insanely  jealous they wouldn't have an Ivy of their own. I want them all to be  jealous of my fiancée."         

     



 

"You're the most wonderful, crazy man I've ever met, you know that?"

Boone just grins at me. "Long as you love me, baby, I don't care how crazy that makes me."





Epilogue


There's a lovely little park downtown now, where the Three Jacks office used to be.

I like driving past it as I leave my own office, even though it's  several blocks out of the way. I just like seeing it, all sod and baby  trees instead of the big glass doors, and Jack Jack's Viper and Winky  Jack's stupid Lexus that he always parked in the handicap spot even  though he wasn't handicapped. But that's all in the past. Three Jacks is  gone, burned down in a blaze of glory. I'm told that one of the Jacks  retired and the others are "working independently," whatever that means.  Don't know, don't care. I have my own business now. Price-Smithfield  Real Estate is a tiny office, just big enough for me and Farah and an  assistant. We don't need more right now, but I'm hoping in the future  we'll expand to include more people.

Well, after the baby comes, of course.

I pat my rounded belly as I drive to the dorms to go visit my sister. I  cried buckets when she left for college, but Boone thought it would be  good for both of us. Wynonna could have a little independence, and I  could have a lot more Boone-time without my sister hovering like a third  wheel. I love my sister, but I also love my alone time with my new  husband. Plus, it saves my sister an hour drive each way, which gives  her more time to study.

Two semesters in, and I can safely say that she's loving college, and  I'm loving the fact that she's there and not living with me.

Wynonna's waiting at the curb for me when I pull up, and she jumps into  my Town Car the moment it stops. "There you are! I thought you were  going to be late again!"

"Just taking the long, scenic route," I tell her as I pull out onto the  road again. I glance over at her, noting her braided, purple-dyed hair.  Wynonna's changed a lot since she went to college-she's put on a bit of  weight, dyed her hair every color imaginable, and has made a ton of  friends. She's no longer the sad-looking waif sitting on the trailer  step. "You look good. Sushi for lunch okay?"

"Sushi is always okay," Wynonna gushes, and then she reaches over to pat  my belly. "Look at how big you're getting! How many weeks are you now?"

"Thirty-two," I tell her. "Not too much longer, now." I rub my stomach  and the baby kicks. "Boone's already decorating the baby's room. He's so  excited."

"He's decorating?" she asks, surprised.

"Well, hunting." I grimace. "He's dead set on the baby having a few, uh, trophies in his room. We're discussing it."

"Oh, ewww. That's gonna scare the baby."

"Or his mommy."

She laughs. "I guess you can take the redneck out of the woods, but you  can't take the woods out of the redneck." She fiddles with the radio for  a moment, and then turns it off, deciding on silence. "How is that  super hot brother of his?"

"Which one?"

Wynonna shrugs, staring out the window.

"Clay?" I prompt. "He's too old for you. Knox? Gage? Also too old for  you. As for Seth? He's the right age but he's also lazy. The others are  all taking a more active part in the family business, but Seth just  wants to go get drunk." I shake my head, because it's something Boone  has lamented about over and over again. "Only thing he's good for is  worming."

"Whatever that is." She wrinkles her nose. "Speaking of, summer's coming up. Can I stay in your guesthouse?"

"Of course." I look over at my sister, surprised. One of the selling  points of the "modest" twelve-million-dollar ranch that Boone and I  eventually bought was that it came with a deluxe guesthouse on the  private lake, ideal for my sister or any other visitors. "You know you  don't have to ask."

"Can I bring a friend?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me. "Me and Stephanie want to hang out at the lake and work on our tans."         

     



 

I shrug. "You're an adult. As long as your grades are good, you can do as you please."

"You're so mellow now," Wynonna teases. "Is it the baby?"

I smile dreamily into the traffic. "Sure."

In reality, the baby's only a piece of it. It's Boone. Boone and his  endless, enthusiastic loving, his wild ideas, his boyish excitement over  anything and everything. He's changed my world in the short time that  we've been married. I keep waiting for the fire between us to fade a  bit, for us to get sick of each other, but we're obsessed. I think we're  closer than ever before, with the baby on the way. He's helped me get  my business on its feet and I've encouraged him to take a more active  role in his own business. We bring out the best in each other-and okay,  sometimes the worst with our stubbornness-but we never go to bed without  a round of dirty make-up sex that makes me forget what we argued about.

Does he have crazy ideas? Sometimes.

Okay, a lot of the time. Most people live inside the box, but for Boone,  there is no box. That's as exciting as it is frustrating, but it's  never boring.

Actually, Boone is anything but boring. Just last night-

"Oh, gross." Wynonna wrinkles her nose. "You're thinking about him again, aren't you?"

"Who?"

"Your husband. You've got that dopey, lovesick look on your face like  you always do when you're thinking dirty thoughts about him."

I can feel myself blushing. "Is it a crime to be head over heels in love with your rich, sexy husband?"

"I guess not," Wynonna mutters. "Just . . . quit having sexy thoughts about him. Don't make me toss my sushi, all right?"

"I'll try," I say drily. My phone buzzes with an incoming text as I park  the car and Wynonna hops out. I take one look at the screen . . . and  my face gets scalding. I press it against my breast. "Why don't you go  get us a table and I'll be in in a second?"

She rolls her eyes, looking so much like a teenager. "So you two can  sext? Seriously, Reba. That's gross. You're pregnant. Be all motherly!"

"I'll do my best," I murmur as she heads into the restaurant. Then, when  it's safe, I peek at my phone screen again. My husband just sent me a  dick pic and a text. Miss you. Show me ur stomach, baby girl.

Ivy: Don't most men just want to see a picture of their woman's tits?

Boone: Yeah, but I jerked off on those earlier this morning, so I'm pretty aware of what they look like.

Ivy: You should know what my stomach looks like! It sticks out all over the place!