Hell (3 page)

“Why not warn me while I was inserting my big-ass foot into my mouth?” Part of me was fuming; I’d just made a fool out of myself in front of them. But then again, the other half of me didn’t give a shit. Meeting this woman had been an experience like none other.

“Dude, relax. If she didn’t like you,
you
would’ve been kicked off this job site before I ever made it through the door,” Kevin interrupted my internal babble. Laughing, he punched my shoulder before walking around the desk Janelle had occupied and took a seat. Asshole’s shoulder shook while I rubbed the spot he’d hit. “I’ve learned my lesson. Fuck that, I still have the scar from the last time I tried to intervene in her romantic—”

Had to stop him there. The thought of her with
anyone
had the same effect on me as throwing a pile of wood into an open flame. It blazed through me fast and hard. I was not prepared for her. Never would be.

“I don’t want to hear that shit.”

“Tough. Janelle’s never been a saint.” His statement was blunt, and a small growl of disapproval burst from within. Walker continued on as if I hadn’t made the animalistic sound. “Unless she specifically asks for my help, I don’t get involved. To be honest, I love my nuts too much to put them in the way of her anger.”

The way he made that statement had me reflectively covering my cock while I grimaced.

“Let’s be honest here,” I started to say while he waved me over to sit. There was a chair across from him that I took. “I need this job. Starting off on the wrong foot was the last thing I needed. It was never my intention to disrespect her or put myself in the position I am now in.”

He tilted his head to the side as he appraised me. “And what position is that?”

“I’m attracted to the woman who’s responsible for signing my checks.” A smirk broke out on his face. “I didn’t know she was the owner, and she
was
egging me on. Honestly, I thought she wanted to play, so I played.”

“Trust me, Joshua...if for the slightest of seconds we thought you being here was a mistake, you would’ve never been hired. Regardless of who referred you to us. Moreover, I think this could be fun. Janelle needs a man that challenges her.”

“I’m not the relationship type of guy.” It had to be said, no false hopes or pretending to be something I would never be.

“A man that would never allow her to walk all over him,” Kevin continued as if I’d never said anything.

“That man isn’t me.”

“So if she happens to get asked out by one of our clients or picked up at a bar—” The thought alone had me fuming in my seat, hands clenched into tight fists as I tried to erase the image of her with a faceless man that played in my mind.

“Not going to happen.”

“Thought so,” Keven stated, a cocky look on his face. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted and was fed bullshit...I’ve never seen her react the way she did before leaving our office. Janelle’s a hard ass, very self-assured, and doesn’t back down. I think you’d be good for her. To her.”

“How the fuck can you be sure? We just met…”

“Trust me.”
I don’t know you.

A part of me wanted to fight that sudden attraction I’d felt toward her, but my cock wouldn’t or couldn’t deny her. There was just something about that hot-tempered bitch that I wanted. Under me, above me…I wanted to take and take, but something told me it would never be enough.

Fuck.

We didn’t talk much after that. Silence, and on my behalf uncertainty permeated the room while I filled in all the required forms needed in order to start my employment. What the fuck was I doing? This—chasing after a woman—was not me. I’d never be my father. Become a shadow of a man because of one woman.

Was it cold of me to see my mother as just another woman? More than likely, but I mourned her a long time ago. She was at peace while my father lived with the pain and emptiness her dying had left behind.

“I’ll need your driver’s license and social security card.” Kevin interrupted my thoughts, snapping me back to the present. Pulling my wallet out of my back pocket, I flipped it open and pulled out both items. He took them from me and stood, walking over to the copy machine against the opposite wall and made copies. All the while he held in his thoughts on the matter, and I could tell it was driving him insane.

“Let it out.”

“Nothing. Seriously, ignore me.”

It was my turn to raise a brow in challenge. “You’re enjoying my discomfort, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea.” After making a few copies for my file, he walked back to the table and handed me my I.Ds.

“This has got to be the strangest interview ever.” It was a statement. If this little rendezvous told me anything, it was that my life here was about to change. Never again would I be blessed with a dull moment.

“That’s on the two of you.” He stood and motioned toward the door, signaling the end of this meeting. Once outside, he extended his hand out, and I shook it. “Be here at seven tomorrow, sharp. Janelle will be watching your every move like a hawk.”

This time I let out a boisterous laugh. “That doesn’t scare me.” It had the opposite effect; I was looking forward to having her undivided attention. On my body, and one day, my cock.

“Word to the wise, bring her a cup of coffee and a bagel with cream cheese. It’ll gain you some brownie points.”

“Should I write Mistress Walker on the cup?”

A snort escaped him, and this time it was my turn to punch his shoulder. Fucker deserved it, in my opinion.

“You will be perfect, Timbers…just perfect for my too-uptight sister.”

“No comment.”

HELL

The drive home from the job site was all a blur to me. Nothing registered. How I made it onto the I-4, merging into the fast-paced afternoon traffic going over seventy miles an hour, I had no clue.

I was on autopilot.

Our first encounter replayed on a constant loop. The fire in her clear hazel eyes, the feel of her against me while she fisted my shirt—the taste of her on my lips while she nipped my bottom lip. Thoughts of her consumed me. Made me hard.

“Motherfuck,” I cursed aloud inside the cabin of my truck. My hand, the one that had been holding the wheel, released its hold momentarily and punched the dashboard. This couldn’t happen. Not to me. Not fucking ever.

Then again, how could I deny the desires she arose in me? With one look—a mere tease of her touch, she caused me to ache for more. More of her heat, the feel of her stretched around me and screaming out in pleasure. To hold her in my arms and watch as she submitted her release to me.

Admitted defeat.

I heard her moans, her screams telling me that it’s my cock, and only mine, that brought her to that edge and over.

My hips bucked up, dick rubbing against the zipper of my pants, and I let out a low hiss. “Fuck. Swear to God, the moment I get my hands on her…” I was throbbing, pulsating and needing to come.

Taking the next exit on the expressway, I reduced speed and took the immediate right toward my apartment. With the hand not holding the wheel, I squeezed my cock through the confines of my pants. The pressure felt good, but still didn’t compare to the feel of a woman’s touch.

The warmth of her mouth.

The softness of her hands.

The motherfucking tightness of her pussy.

Problem was that now that I’d seen Janelle’s face, felt her pressed against me, nothing else would suffice. I wanted…

“No. She’s just another pussy. Nothing special.” With that in mind, I turned the pick-up around and headed toward Church Street. This was the mecca for the young and trendy—those in need of a good party or quick fuck.

It was well after six, and I needed to get her out of my mind. Best way to accomplish that was between another woman’s thighs.

Whiskey Dicks was the first bar I encountered that looked remotely like my type of hangout. Simple. Rustic. Like they catered to real men, and umbrella drinks weren’t the norm. When hitting a bar, I wasn’t one to give two shits about ambiance or locale. All I wanted was a good beer and hot women.

The outside patio was packed as I strolled by; a basketball game played on one of the many TVs surrounding the walls, and the crowd was beginning to get rowdy. The city’s team played tonight, and many fans were cheering them on.

“Welcome to Whiskey Dicks,” a pretty redhead said while opening the door for me. A smile on her face and a shirt two sizes too small greeted me while she ushered me in. Her demeanor was friendly and a little suggestive, yet it did nothing for me. Not even a twitch. “Haven’t seen you before…tourist?”

“No, I’m just a transplant…getting to know my new home.” Her eyes watched my lips intensely while I spoke, and I smirked. This would be too easy. Tonight I might just have to lower my standards a tiny bit; pussy was pussy, after all.

Last woman I’d fucked had been the waitress with that god-awful high pitch in her voice. I was horny and had been a bit drunk by the end of the night. Bent her over the bathroom sink, taking what she blatantly offered me. Sure, I got off, but it had been lousy.

Her moaning was obnoxious and almost caused me to lose my hard-on. In the end, I just fucked her, came, and walked out before she could ask me for hers. One more minute of listening to her cheap porn-star-like moaning, and I’d gag.

She batted her long lashes and leaned into me just a tiny bit as we reached the hostess stand. “Where are you from?” The way she arched into me pushed her tits out, stretching the already taut material of her shirt across her chest, and I couldn’t help but look down.

Strike one.

Was this the norm for every service-industry female employee?

Her breasts were perky, too big for her small frame. It was more than obvious that they were fake; nothing like Janelle’s. Those were perfect. Felt good as she breathed me in and I pulled her supple body against my own.

And now, I was hard again, something the hostess noticed. She bit her lip, and I rolled my eyes. I was fucking hard. Needed to come, and yet she just wouldn’t do. Not my first choice.

I’d fucking kill to have my boss beneath me, bathing me in her juices.

“Unbelievable,” I mumbled too low for the redhead to hear. Even within the reach of easy pussy, I was thinking of her: fucking Janelle Walker.

There was no room for her in my life, and I’d prove that tonight.

“I could help you with that. My break’s in five minutes, handsome.” Strike two.

But not with this chick. I like my women natural, not fucking created by a surgical knife and implants. Liked them fun and easygoing, but don’t throw yourself at me. Give me a hard-to-get bitch any day, and I’d be a happy man.

While I didn’t promise flowers and sunset walks, I still enjoyed what every fucking male on this planet did. Women who knew their worth and made you work for a small taste.

Call me picky, I didn’t give a damn. At the end of the night, it was my cock that would be buried deep within their pussies. It was up to me who I fucked.

“Reno.” My answer was short. The flirting I’d allowed a mere second ago vanished.

Her smile dropped and morphed into a pout. “Will you need a table, sir?”

“No. I’ll just head to the bar.” Not giving her a chance to reply or make any more conversation, I walked around her and straight for my first drink of the night. Tonight couldn’t be a bust; I had to find the right one to take home.

Never looking back, I walked straight across the room and took a seat on one of the many empty bar stools. Music played in the background, low and the tune catchy. That was the second time today that I’d encountered a song I’d never heard before.

Tapping my fingers absentmindedly, I waited with as much patience as I could muster for my turn to order. Giggling a few seats down caught my attention. Tall, slender, and thin—too fucking thin—women stood leaned over the counter while ordering a bucket of Bud Light.

My eyes traveled down their bodies and again, nothing. Not a goddamned tingle down my balls.

Taking their bucket from the bartender after handing him some cash, they walked my way. Strode right past me with their tiny waists and nonexistent chests, smiling. I smiled too, and one faltered in her step.

“Evening, ladies,” I crooned lowly. In unison they let out a girlish laugh and sashayed toward their table. Every few seconds, they would turn my way to see if I was still watching. I was, but not for the reasons they’d hoped for. “That’s not the least bit attractive.”

How could a woman be so shapeless? No curves. No legs. Not even the slightest bit of an ass. What a motherfucking disappointment.

Now Janelle, that was beauty personified. The hot bitch had everything I would look for in a fuck buddy. Not that I’d ever had one, but for her I’d make an exception.

Intelligence.

Personality.

A natural sex appeal that made me
want
to become her willing fuck toy.

“What can I get for you, bud?” My eyes turned to look over at the man who’d addressed me and found the bartender watching me with an amused smile. Tall, tatted, and a mean-looking mug. He fit the job description in looks alone. “Or do you need a minute?”

“Corona with a wedge of lime.” Nodding, he walked away to get my beer while my eyes scanned the room. Surprisingly, the inside of the bar wasn’t as packed. Nothing like the chaos its patio area had become.

Even those inside had their attentions on the giant screens surrounding the place—it was as if they mentally wanted to win tonight’s game for the city’s team.

My money was on that other Florida team.

I heard the top of a bottle being popped off and turned back around to face my new friend. He moved with far more grace than I expected a man his size to have. The man was big. Easily mistaken for a linebacker,
tall
and had tattoo sleeves on both arms, colorful designs that stood out and almost had me asking who did his work.

Having four tattoos myself, I was always looking for a good shop. Because it’s true what they said: once you had one…you wanted more.

I started when I turned eighteen and got my first—simple and bold—my name in Old English lettering across the deep V of my hips. From there, I added a skull design on my chest, and both my parents’ names in cursive—my handwriting down my forearms.

The last took up my entire back.

An angel.

Beautiful and enchanting, she was dressed all in black with her fragile wings tattered. Her face was the picture of pure innocence, but her lips were quirked up into a saucy smile. Dangerous. Conniving. She represented how I saw the female species.

The bartender walked over and grabbed a fresh, uncut lime from a basket, and I smiled. Thank God! There was nothing worse in the world than ordering a drink that had citrus in it, and getting old and bitter-tasting fruit.

“Here you go.” Tim, as his nametag read, placed a bottle in front of me and turned to walk away.

“How much?” I called out after him. I’d never once mentioned opening a tab.

Tim paused just as he reached another client and turned my way. “On the house.”

A group of businessmen had been waiting on him, each one looking more miserable than the man to his right. After taking their orders, Tim turned to look over at me and yelled out, “No charge. Redhead at the door called over and forbade me from charging you.”

What the fuck.

Strike three. Now, she reeked of desperation.

“The hostess? When the fuck did she have time to do that?” Eyeing the bottle of beer as if it had a head and would bite, I pushed back from the stool and stood up. Tim came over seeing my intention to bounce and grabbed the offending bottle. This night was turning into a bust as I continued to compare each piece of ass to
her
. To my fucking Janelle.

My. Mine. Fuck.

Being possessive lead to all the other bullshit I’d avoided all my life.

“Yeah, the hostess. Called me over our headphones,” he said while pointing at the standard communication device most establishments used to confer with each other while on shift.

I nodded and pursed my lips. “Doesn’t like to be rejected?”

“No,” Tim deadpanned with some bitterness to his tone. “Sweet girl, but I wouldn’t touch her,
again
.” He walked away then and poured the untouched beer down the drain. The sound of glass clanking together was loud, and my eyes watched him while he washed his hands, grabbed a bottle of amber-colored liquid, and placed a couple of shot glasses in front of me. Once filled to the brim, he pushed one my way and tipped the other back. “Drink up. That one’s on me…you look like you need it.”

Tilting my head to the side, I appraised the overgrown brute. He was all right. At the very least, the bastard was offering me a free drink without asking for my dick in return.

“Thanks.” Raising my shot up, I tipped it his way before knocking it back. Fuck, that was good. Cinnamon with a kick. The taste exploded on my tongue, yet the alcohol went down smooth. No burn.

“Like it?”

Fuck, yes.
“What is it?” Slamming my shot glass down on the counter, I waved my finger in the air. “Another.”

He laughed before pouring us each another shot. “Fireball. Smooth going down, but it’ll kick your ass if you’re not careful.”

Lifting my shot, I held it up and asked, “What are we toasting to?”

“Your first time inside Whiskey Dicks. I have a feeling you’ll be a regular.” I laughed at that; motherfucker was on point. “And two…the fact you saw right through young and dumb up front. She’s something else.”

“Agreed. Too desperate for my taste.”

“Good. Now drink up, fucker, and welcome to Orlando.”

HELL

Four shots and three beers later, I felt a warm, soft body press against my back. With the game now over and everyone pissed over the loss, most moved the party inside. Fucking bar was packed.

“Haven’t seen you around here before, handsome,” a breathy voice whispered against the nape of my neck. Breasts were pushed up against my back; I could feel hard nipples sweeping me in a gentle caress each time she moved. “What’s your name?”

Tithing my head back, I was met by a pretty face. Hardly any makeup, pouty, glossy lips, and long dark black hair—young, I’d guess just turned twenty-one or had someone make her one hell of a fake I.D.

Yet the uncanny resemblance to Janelle made me not care.

“Name’s Joshua, pretty girl.” As if on cue she blushed, and I tenderly ran my finger down her cheek. The look was endearing. “What’s yours?”

“Laney.”

“Cute name.” Gently, I pushed her back and swiveled around in my seat to face her. Her dark eyes, wide and expressive, watched me. Appraised me in the same way I wandered her body. “Thirsty?”

“I could drink.” Her statement was blunt. Where had the shy girl of a few minutes ago gone? Was this her game? Her body moved closer, her hips pushed my legs farther apart, and she stepped between them. “What do you have for me?”

The heat from her skin and the exotic smell of lime and coconuts hit me all at once, and I pulled her in closer. This woman had me hard, and I planned to enjoy the feel of her beneath me soon. As if reading my thoughts, she fisted the hair at the nape of my neck and pecked my lips.

Soft lips caressed my own, and I snapped—smashing my own to hers and demanding entrance, which she gave willingly. My hands wandered, found her ass, and squeezed. The moan that escaped her lips took me back to earlier today when Janelle had released a soft mewl of her own.

I stopped.

Breathing heavy and wanting nothing more than to be buried deep inside this chick, I pulled back. I couldn’t continue this shit, and it pissed me off. Janelle’s face, the fucking way she smiled—taunted me earlier today—kept replaying on my mind.

I was fucked.

“I’m sorry, Laney, but I have to go.” Her face fell, and my dick was now becoming soft. “Can I buy you a drink before I go?”

“Only if I can get a raincheck on what you started.”

“I promise.” That’s when I made the mistake of standing. Laney semi-draped herself over me and began kissing the base of my neck. I let her have her fun, my eyes wandering the room, and that’s when I felt it.

Felt the heat of someone’s stare.

My eyes snapped toward where it came from and froze at what I found. Fuck. Kevin sat in a booth, surrounded by friends, yet his eyes were on mine. Not angry. More like disappointed.

An emotion I’d never felt grew within me. Guilt.

“Sorry,” I mumbled low and pulled her arms from around my neck. She was upset but didn’t say a word. Taking a few steps away from her, I pulled out my wallet and grabbed a hundred-dollar bill before tossing it on the bar.

“Tim.” At his name, he hurried my way. “This should cover my tab and the little lady’s drink. I got to go.”

He eyed me, then my fuming companion to my left. “You okay?”

“Will be.” Nodding, he extended his hand, and I shook it before turning around and leaving. I’m sure he will ask me the next time I come in just what the fuck happened. Two women in one night, and neither left on my arm.

Fucking Janelle Walker.