Dirty Money
“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.
“A—all right.” I want to squirm with just how aroused I am. I’m mentally picturing leaning over him, my nipples brushing against his back, his arm. Him casually fingering my pussy as I cut his hair . . . God, this should not seem as erotic as it does. But I’m practically beside myself with need at the thought. “I’ll cut your hair naked.”
“Hair, too?”
“Well, that seems fair, don’t you think? I’m doing a lot of giving here.” And I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
He snorts and pulls his cap off, then rubs his hand through his hair. “Long as I don’t get a stupid haircut, I don’t care what you do with it.”
“It won’t be stupid,” I breathe, excited. My nipples are hard under my jacket, and it’s like he just went down on me again, not just promised to let me cut his hair. Calm down, silly nipples. “No weird haircuts, I promise. I’m just going to trim it.”
He nods slowly. “If you want.”
I smile. “Then show me your bathroom. I’ll strip down for you, and we can get started.”
Boone extends his hand to me and I melt a little. He’s going to hold my hand while giving me a tour of his place? That’s so sweet and oddly gentlemanly. I tuck the kit under my arm and put my hand in his, following close behind as he leads me through the trailer.
He opens a door down the hall . . . and stops. Sighs.
“What is it?” I ask, though I’m a little worried. Guys can have gross bathrooms. I peek around his shoulder, unable to help myself, and I’m puzzled at his dismay. It’s a bathroom. It’s clean, with a few bottles on the small sink, but it’s tidy.
“This ain’t right,” he tells me.
“Why isn’t it right?”
He glances over at me and I can feel him squeeze my hand. “Because here I am, inviting you over for a night of no-holds-barred sex, and I made you drive over to my trailer. And then there’s this.” He gestures at the tiny bathroom.
“What’s wrong with it? It looks clean.”
“You deserve better.”
I fidget, feeling uncomfortable. Does he not realize my place could be a twin to his? I wish that I could tell him that I didn’t care.
But he wants an elegant girlfriend. One that knows her way around society and how to impress people. One that can sell him a big fancy house because she knows about fancy things. And if that changes, I might lose him. I . . . don’t want that to happen. Not yet.
So I say nothing.
Boone frowns at his bathroom a moment longer, and then gazes down the hallway of his trailer. It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him that it doesn’t matter. Maybe I can tell him a friend of mine lives in a trailer and it’s no big deal. But before I can come up with a story that will make him feel better, he tugs me down the hall after him, and we’re heading back toward the living room.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I have an idea. Get your purse.” He releases my hand and grabs his car keys from the kitchen counter.
I move to the couch and pick it up, tucking the shaving kit back inside it. I’m a little confused by what’s going on. “Are we leaving?”
He nods slowly, giving me another heated look that makes my toes curl in my shoes. “Since I don’t have the big house yet, I’m gonna take you to a nice, fancy hotel and we’re gonna do this right.”
“I don’t need a hotel,” I protest. “Really. This is fine, Boone.”
“It’s not fine. You’re classy and deserve better than this.” He gestures at his trailer with a shake of his head. “Ain’t right for you.”
Isn’t it? I feel a stab of guilt at keeping my secret. It’s making me uneasy, because he’s so focused on how “classy” I am (a word I’m starting to hate) that I wonder how he’s going to act when he finds out I’m not anything like his picture of me. “Maybe we should just call this off, Boone. I don’t know—”
“No,” he says quickly, moving across the trailer to my side. Then, he’s looming over me, his larger-than-life presence eating up all the oxygen around me as he cups my cheek. “I want this. I want you, Ivy. You have no idea how bad I want this.”
A small smile returns to my face. “Don’t I? You tell me all the time.”
“Well, if you know how badly I want you, you should know that I want this to be right for you. It ain’t sitting right for me that the first time I fuck you is gonna be in some lousy, run-down trailer. You deserve the fancy sheets, the nice bed, the lobster tail, the works.”
“Oh, so now we’re going out to dinner?” I tease, and then gesture at my very low neckline, where my breasts are practically escaping my suit jacket. “I’m not exactly dressed for that.”
“We’ll get room service. Whatever you want. I just want to do this right.”
I shake my head. “However we do it is right. I promise you, I don’t need all that—”
He silences my protest with a hard, fierce kiss that leaves me dazed. When he lifts his mouth from mine, he nips at my lip one last time before saying, “This is how it’s gonna be.”
And what can I do but agree? “All right.”
Boone looks thoughtful. “How much does a fancy hotel suite cost a night?”
“Oh, I’m not sure.” Mostly because I’ve never stayed in one. Time to lie, again. “The last time I stayed in one it was about five hundred a night.” God, I’m such a terrible liar. He’s going to see right through me and wonder.