Hell

HELL

By: Elena M. Reyes

Summary
:

How do I dominate and enamor the woman who’s in charge of signing my paycheck?

That’s the one question Joshua Timbers has been asking himself since he first stepped foot into his own personal Hell. JT, or Yoshi—as his tormentor likes to call him—has lived a life of hardship and loss since an early age. Being the product of a single-parent home, he’s accustomed to hard work and lonely nights.

Seeing the strong man that raised him suffer after the loss of his mother made JT’s own heart harden. All that mattered was seeking instant gratification to curb his enormous appetite.

Until the blessed day he met his fallen angel, Janelle.

Beautiful, and with balls bigger than her entire crew, Janelle is accustomed to the leering looks of men, even though she’s their boss—the owner of Walker Construction, alongside her brother.

Her beauty is untouchable to everyone, but how far will Joshua go to bend his hellion to his will and make her his?

Copyright © 2015 by Elena M. Reyes

Malfunction Erotica

(The House of Malfunction)

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Edited By: Marti Lynch, K.I. Lynn, N. Isabelle Blanco

Cover Art By: N. Isabelle Blanco

Photo credit: 123RF/
@
:
Svyatoslava Vladzimirsk
a

What was hell?

If you asked a member of any church today, they’d say it was nightmarish—a dark and gloomy place filled with horrific images and boughs of endless pain. A place where demons roamed freely, feeding off the dregs of the deceased.

A part of humanity that lost its moral compass: the common sinner.

These pour souls sinned in order to achieve greatness; sold their very essence to attain the vanity-filled dreams everyone covets. And now they lived in eternal pain.

Then there were those we called our loved ones. Targeted, they lost the small morsel of their souls that made them good. It made them an easy target.

At the very least, that was what the religious people of the world claimed. Wanted us to believe.

Neither of those descriptions meant shit to me. Religion never mattered much. Not when you’d lost so much and witnessed firsthand just what losing faith did to a person.

I wasn’t most people.

Most had chosen to believe the words drilled into their minds from an early age, but I knew better. Hell wasn’t somewhere dark where the eternal flames glowed and the sinners were condemned to—to pay for the unforgivable deeds of their past life. Acts that were unforgivable in the eyes of the church.

Stealing.

Killing.

Coveting.

In my reality, though, that was a blatant lie.

Hell was here, surrounding us day in and day out. We paid for our sins in life, not death. One way or another, karma would collect those that wronged another. No one, no matter who the fuck they were, could escape this bitch named life.

Problem was that no matter how much I looked at my current situation, I was at a loss. What the fuck had I done to deserve
her
?

My hell, the one that tortured me while both awake and asleep, wasn’t dark or terrifying. It wasn’t painful in the general sense. Well, that was unless you counted the pain my cock had suffered to be life threatening. I guess it could be considered cruel; she loved to torture me when I couldn’t react or make her pay.

“You are here to work, not fuck me. My pussy’s not on your daily task sheet!”

I’d never been so hard…so fucking swollen, as I’d been in her presence. Twitching and pulsating against the zipper of my Levi’s, I hurt, and she refused to right the wrong she’d created.

“I don’t fuck my employees…not even the promising outline of your big cock will change that.”

You see, my personal hell was all wrapped up in a lustful package. A body created by God himself, made for the sole purpose of fucking up my quiet and ordinary life. This woman brought me down to my knees—demanded that I pay on a daily basis for the lustful thoughts and impulses she, herself, caused.

“Worry about making sure all the drywall on this floor is up; drilling me isn’t on the agenda and never will be.”

And I would gladly repent daily, on my knees at her temple, if she would just give in to me.

My version of hell was a woman. A cock tease.

A woman whose inner and outer beauty surpassed the normal standard society had deemed appropriate. Janelle was a temptress, my personal mistress.

Rendered me incapable of both speech and function at times when all I wanted was to make her mine. One day Janelle would break me, of that there was no doubt. Problem was that in pushing me past my breaking point, she was losing her power over me and becoming my target. My prey.

When that day came, I would take her without mercy. With no remorse because by then she would be as consumed in her need for me as I was for her.

This woman, angel, or my personal demon, has had my dick hard, leaking and begging for her attention since she first entered my life all those glorious months ago. Now, it was her turn to be miserable.

To feel an eighth of the demands my body made whenever she entered a room. I would make her beg me. Come from a mere look.

Janelle would cry out for me one day, and only then would I gift her my cock.

Her time was up.

I was coming for her.

Chapter 1

“Motherfucker,” I grunted while picking up the last sack of plaster from the company’s truck. The first ten were fine, but after taking over fifty down, your arms were bound to hurt. My arms—the muscles trembled from exertion, but it was part of the job, even if I was the foreman at this job site.

The position demanded respect, trust, and for the most part I had everyone’s, including the owner’s. That was before I gave my notice. I
was
their leader, yet today, I was the company’s bitch in more ways than one. Assholes.

“Quit bitching, kid.” Tony, the owner, laughed from just outside the small portable trailer that held the company’s office. He stood there in all his annoying glory, watching me do the grunt work while taking a sip from his coffee mug. “It’s the least you can do. You’re leaving, and I’m fucked.”

Deep down, I knew that he would miss me, and not just as his employee. The man had been a huge part of my life. He was my late father’s good friend and my self-appointed godfather. For the last twenty-eight years he’d been there, and now, I was leaving.

“Shut it, old man. My ass hurts at this point from all the bullshit you’re dishing as punishment.” Taking the small towel I kept in my back pocket, I brought it up to my face and wiped away the sweat that was making it hard to see. It was fucking hot today, too dry for me.

“When did you turn into such a whiny pussy, Joshua?” This coming from a man who’d never gotten his hands dirty from an honest day’s work. The company had been passed down to him—a complete success with a steady and growing clientele. Don’t get me wrong; working for him has been a pleasure, but my time was up.

My move from Reno to Orlando was something I’d been planning for the last year.

“Fuck you.”

“You’re just not my type, kid…too skinny and demanding.” A mature reply to that would’ve been to join in on his joke and take it all in stride
.
After all, today was my last day, and he would be left in a tough spot. Tony needed to find a suitable replacement before the week was at its end.

Did I feel guilty for that? A little, yes, but it was time to leave and make my own fucking way in this world. With no family or significant other to tie me down, I was free to do as I pleased.

Flipping him the bird after tossing the last of the heavy bags down with the others, I turned around and faced him. “Tony,” I called with an innocent smile.

“Yeah.” He eyed me curiously, taking a small step inside the office as if afraid of my retaliation.

“Kiss my ass, and you owe me a beer.” His boisterous laughter filled the ground floor of the job site. Workers turned our way, most shaking their heads while packing up tools. “I expect something for all the years my old man and I have given you.”

Instead of a rude reply, Tony shocked me by setting his mug on the desk by the door and walking over to me.

He reached out once close and pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you, Joshua. You’ve been a great employee, like a son to me. Your dad would have been so proud of you, of the man you’ve become, just like I am.”

“Thank you.” I squeezed him once before letting go. More than anyone, Tony knew how affected I was by my father’s death. He was all I ever had.

“Clock out and meet us at The Gas Lamp in two hours. My treat.” Nodding, I reached into my pocket and tossed him the truck keys. They belonged to the company. “Why are you giving me your truck keys?”

“Not mine.” I shrugged and tried to walk past him to get inside; his hands on my arm stopped me.

“They’ve been yours since I gave you the promotion and raise.” What the fuck is he talking about? “I’m not taking them back.”

“I don’t get it.”

“That truck is yours, Joshua. My gift to you.”

“But what about—”

“Don’t worry about it. Now get out of here before I do something embarrassing and call the crew over to sing you a goodbye song.” Fucker. Tony tossed the keys in the air and I caught them easily. Inside the office, I clocked out and looked around the room.

There was no denying I would miss this place, but it was no longer my home. A need for more had grown within me over the last few months, and I was done fighting it.

It was time to move on.

HELL

During the drive to the restaurant hours later, I found myself contemplating the last year—the many changes I’d been faced with and the one tragedy that had molded me into what I was today. A cold and sometimes uncaring asshole.

My father, Carl Timbers, passed away suddenly of a heart attack while at one of our job sites. He crumbled right before my eyes, clutching at his chest as his pain intensified. It was one of the most horrific moments of my life.

Not being able to save him—I was helpless and left with the job of calling for help.

Never leaving his side, watching him and the clock as the seconds ticked by. I watched him fade. He passed away on the way to the hospital, and all I could think about as the paramedics worked on him was
“and then there was one.”

Alone.

Dad never remarried after Mom’s death, and I will admit that we were lonely. That maybe the companionship of a woman was needed, but my father refused to let anyone taint the memory of my mother by claiming her spot.

He did the best that he could with what he had, and I respected him for that. The man had taught me all he could about life, but the one lesson I remembered most was how much it hurt to lose someone you loved. Seeing the years pass my father, taking his youth and then his life, had left a void in me.

That thought alone—of repeating his mistake, of giving my heart to another—was something I refused to do. I would live the rest of my life trying to make him proud. A woman was only good for temporary companionship, nothing more. There was nothing worse than those who were delusional and the demanded more.

Never fuck the same woman more than three times.

Never do relationships.

Never fall in love.

After the tragic loss of my father, I found myself feeling lost and desperate for a change. That urged me to push away my grief and get the fuck away. Away from the memory of all I’d lost.

Pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot, I found an empty space not too far from the entrance and pulled in. Tony’s car was parked a few cars away from mine. I noticed this as I got out and made my way toward the entrance.

I still couldn’t believe that he’d given me the company’s truck as a gift. It was a beauty; the F-250 barely had ten thousand miles to its name and drove like a dream. He’d purchased it after I accepted his promotion, and I loved the fucking thing.

“Lovable asshole,” I muttered while pulling the door open and walking inside. The place was packed, a flustered blonde standing at the hostess stand. Cute, but too young for me. I liked my women old enough to at the very least be able to purchase a drink.

She was new. This was a favored hangout spot, and I’d never seen her before.

“Welcome to The Gas Light…how many in your party?” Bianca, as her nametag read, spoke without glancing up from the computer screen in front of her. Rude, and that took her down a few notches for me.

“Eyes up here, Bianca.” At the mention of her name, her eyes snapped up and met mine. They widened slightly, roaming my face, and then traveled lower. “My party’s already here, but I will need to be—”

“I’m so sorry, sir.” Strike two. I hate being interrupted.

“Can you point me in the direction of where the Wright party is located?”

Bianca stared. Didn’t move her eyes from mine, and it was a bit unnerving. I was in no way an egotistical man, but I was aware of the effect I had on the opposite sex.

Women were drawn to me and the added benefits the many job sites had gifted my body. The physical exertion of a hard day’s work did marvelous things to the physical form, made it hard and strong. They saw me as handsome yet approachable, were pulled in by my light brown hair and green eyes.

It was all fun until they wanted more. Giving them more of my cock and the hard fuck they craved wasn’t the issue. But my heart was a no-go. The clinginess and whining put me off; I didn’t want or need a woman to be happy.

In this town, pussy was easy to find. Dime a fucking dozen.

“I’m sorry,” the hostess said with a shy smile, “can you repeat that one more time? Maybe if you got closer, I could hear you over the roar of the music.”

This place was a favorite of ours because of the live bands and great drinks it served its clientele. Simple décor and artwork set the relaxed mood throughout. The place served the kind of food one would find in all the trendier and most upscale restaurants in the city, yet its eclectic music and attentive staff made it less stuffy. Comfortable, not pretentious.

Comforting and always a good time until tonight, that is.

Sighing, I ran a hand over my face in agitation. “The Wright table…can you point me in their direction? Is that possible, or should I just call and ask them to come up here?”

“Fuck, you’re hot. Are you here with anyone?” Bianca blushed, her ears turning pink while she tried to get ahold of herself. “I get off in a few hours…maybe you’d like to join me for a drink?”

I didn’t need this tonight—tired and irritable was how I found myself. All I wanted to do was to let go and relax with some friends.

Maybe at the end of the night find a willing pair of lips to blow me—a pair of tits over the age of twenty-one to lick and bite. A tight pussy to fuck.

“How old are you? Eighteen?”

“No,” she huffed with an attitude. “I’m nineteen, and the bartender here is a friend of mine. He hooks me up.” Like that made it all better. Underage is underage, and I didn’t touch that shit.

“Not interested.” Stepping back from her podium, I pulled my phone out of my back pocket and slid my finger over the screen. A hand—her hand
—r
eached out to stop me. Glaring at her, I pried her fingers off my arm and took a few steps back.

Strike three.

Don’t fucking touch me unless I ask you to or I’m fucking you.

“Where are you?” Tony answered after the third ring. He spoke loudly, the noise level around him making it hard to hear.

“I’m here, but having a hard time communicating with the little girl up front.” Out of the corner of my eye I saw her flinch, but that’s what she was. How she acted.

She needed to learn that a real man liked to chase, not be given everything. Let him hunt you. Consume you, but only after he’d put the work in. While I didn’t do relationships, I still enjoyed the game of hide and seek.

Let me wear a woman down until she came to me begging for a good fuck.