Dirty Money(6)

     



 

As she extends her hand to me, I see perfect fingers tipped with a pale  peach manicure. Her hand is soft as she slips it into mine, but her grip  is firm. "I'm Ivy Smithfield," she says, and her voice is soft, slow,  and sweet. Fuck, it's giving me a hard-on just to hear her voice.

I'm glad I did this, because I want her. I want her in my bed, right  now, her long legs wrapped around my hips as I pound into her. She can  even wear those beige heels of hers. I'll let her put 'em on my  shoulders while I fuck her. She can tell me dirty things in that smoky  little voice of hers until I bust my nut.

Yeah, I like the sound of that, too.

Her cheeks are flushing with color and she gives my hand a little shake. "And you are . . . ?"

Right. Guess I'm too busy mentally boning her to do introductions proper. "Fucking happy to see you."

Her entire face flames red. That's fucking adorable. "I see." She tries to pull her hand out of my grip.

I hold on tight to it, because she's mine now. She didn't laugh at me  when I came in, like the receptionist. She didn't look at me like I was  fucking dirt for daring to step into her world. She came and gave me her  hand, just like I was a client that mattered. She's classy, just like I  thought.

And she's sexy as fuck.

She's mine. All mine. Anyone that looks at her sideways is gonna get a fist in their mouth.

I'm still eyeing her when she gives her hand a little jerk, and the  flushed look on her face gives way to mild panic. I don't want to scare  her-I want her in my bed. So I let her hand go. "Sorry. Name's Price.  Boone Price."

I wait to see if she has any sort of reaction to that. People that read  the financials absolutely know who I am. But she only continues to  smile, sweet and warm and friendly. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Price.  Welcome to Three Jacks." She gestures at the lobby. "Did you just happen  to walk in?"

"Something like that." I glance around. "Nice building."

She smiles proudly, like it belongs to her or something. "We're on the  historical register. The owners refurbished the place after it was  nearly condemned twenty years ago. It's got a fantastic history if you'd  like to hear it."

"Some other time." It just looks expensive and fancy to me . . . just like her. That's all I need to know.

She inclines her head. "Can I get you a cup of coffee or a bottle of water?"

"I'm good. Can I buy you a drink?"

The look on her face becomes shuttered, her smile tight, and I know I've gone too far. "I don't date clients, Mr. Price."

Good. I like that she's got a firm moral backbone, even if I'm scaring  the dickens out of her. I'll just have to cool my jets a bit. Just  enough to get her comfortable. "Of course. I'm just used to being a  straight shooter and all."

"I see." She gestures at the sea of desks in the back office behind her.  "If you'd feel more comfortable, I'd be happy to let you talk to one of  my associates-"

"I want you," I say flatly. When her mouth gets tighter, I put my hands  up in the air. "All right. I'm putting my foot in my mouth with  everything I say, aren't I?" I throw on a bit of the charm to make her  think my words aren't sincere-truth is, I mean every fucking word of it.  She's mine. All mine. But I've got to play it cool and sneaky until she  lets her guard down a bit more. "I want you to sell me a house. We  don't have to date. In fact, we can just pretend I never opened my fool  mouth and said any of that."

For now, we can pretend that.

She relaxes a little, but there's a bit of wariness still in her  posture. Ivy gestures at a nearby set of chairs in the lobby, and we  move over to them. As we do, she sits down and crosses her legs, and I  swear to god, I nearly bust a nut in that moment. She's effortlessly  beautiful, and I've never been filled with so much lust and  possessiveness for a woman in my life. I'm not a big dater, and now I  know why.

I was waiting for her.

As I sit, I notice a fine cloud of dust leaking from my hat. Actually, I  notice there's a trail of dust from where I was standing, now over to  this chair. Whoops. "Sorry about the dirt. I came in straight from the  field." It's been another long day in West Texas, but this time I found  myself a new spot for a well-and not on Bates's property. He can go fuck  himself.         

     



 

She waves a hand. "Work is work, and there's nothing to be ashamed of."  She pulls out a small notepad and a pen and writes my name across the  top in a girly, looping scrawl and then underlines it. "So tell me about  you, Boone. What are you looking for?"

You, I want to say. "In a house?"

She nods.

I shrug. "Haven't really given it much thought. Something classy, I think."

Ivy writes a note under my name. "Fixer-upper? Move-in ready?"

I shrug again. "Which do you think is better?" Right now, with the way  my cock is aching at her nearness? I'd live in a cardboard box if she  told me it was a good idea.

"It depends on your budget. Have you given much thought to how much you want to spend?"

I rub my neck. "Not really? I haven't paid much attention to the market.  That's why I thought I'd come to you." That, and because I want you.  Now that I've seen you, I need you.

She gives me another little smile, and I feel like I fucking won the  lottery. "We'll find you the right house. Bachelor pad or something for a  family?"

"You askin' me if I got a woman?"

Her cheeks turn bright red again. "I-I-I-"

I lean in. "I'm just teasing you, Miss Ivy."

She gives a high, nervous laugh that's adorable and a little shake of  her head. "It's so I know how many bedrooms you're looking for, Mr.  Price. That's why I asked." There's a curve to her mouth that's an  almost-smile, though, and I know I'm winning her over. I can be a  charming bastard if I need to be, dirt and all.

"I know, but I couldn't resist the opportunity to tease you." I glance  down at her list and notice again that her smooth, pretty fingers have  no rings on them. Another possessive surge rushes through me. She ain't  married. Just like I thought.

That means she's mine for the taking. Good.

"So-rooms?"

I stroke my beard. "Not sure how many yet. I would like a big place."

Ivy nods, scribbling notes in her pad. "In this area? Or is there a particular location you need to commute to?"

"Here's fine." San Antonio ain't that close to West Texas, but my  brothers like living here, and she's here, so that's good for me. I  don't mind a long drive, and I'm only out west when it comes time for a  new well, anyhow.

Behind us, the receptionist starts to put away the things on her desk.  "Will you be long, Ivy?" she calls out, giving me a pointed look that  tells me she doesn't approve of me taking up her friend's time. "Or  should I leave the lobby open for you?"

Ivy fumbles in her purse and pulls out a phone. She taps the screen a  few times before it reacts, and then she bites her lip as she notices  the time. "Gosh, yeah, it is getting late. Mr. Price, would you like to  set up a meeting time? Maybe tomorrow or the day after? You can email me  your list of needs and we can go over them-"

"I'll do you one better," I tell her, giving Ivy my most charming smile.  "How about I take you out to dinner and tell you what I'm looking for  in a property?" When she freezes, I add, "As business partners. Not a  date." I rub my stomach. "I haven't eaten all day and I'm starving."

"Oh." She hesitates and looks at her notes. "I'm not sure. I have a lot  to do tonight . . ." Her voice dies as a man comes strolling through the  lobby with sunglasses perched atop his head. He winks at Ivy in a way  that makes me grit my teeth, and then pauses to speak to the  receptionist. They put their heads together and laugh softly, and I'm  guessing they're laughing at me.

Hate burns in my gut. Ivy isn't like those assholes at all.

"Gosh, Mr. Price," the object of my desires says, shaking her head. That  long ponytail flips back and forth over her shoulder, tormenting me. "I  really shouldn't, because I really do have a lot of work I need to get  started tonight. Why don't I just get the basics of your information and  call you in the morning?"

I give her an easy nod, like I understand. She's gonna make me chase her. Fair enough. I can chase. "Tell me what you need."         

     



 

"Okay, we can wrap this up fast. Rooms? How many were you thinking?" Her pen poises over the paper.

I purse my lips, glancing over at the assholes laughing by the front  desk. How big of a house would I need to shut those two up? How many  rooms? "Forty," I decide.

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch that. Four?" Ivy says politely, writing.

"Forty," I repeat.

She blinks at the paper, and then looks up at me. Her pink, sexy mouth  is parted, and I have this incredible urge to kiss her despite the dirt  on my clothes. Ivy shifts in her seat and leans forward. "Did you say  forty?" Her voice has dropped to a whisper.