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 curve 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 Constructions, 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?
“You
wanted to see me?” At the sound of my voice, Janelle jumped in her
seat. A tiny gasp escaped through her plumps lips, her eyes widening
as our eyes locked. Gone was the secure seductress from earlier
today. The one who walked through the job site’s parking area, hips
swaying enticingly, while I held on for dear life to a slab of
granite that she’d kill me for if I’d dropped.
Giving
me shit while I couldn’t react. Not without consequences.
“Yeah,
I…” She cleared her throat, swallowing hard as her eyes traversed
my almost naked torso. It was my turn to be cocky.
“Eyes
up here, sweetheart.” She didn’t like that one bit, the furrow in
her brow and pursed lips telling me as much. “What’s up?”
Janelle
sat behind her desk, a file open in front of her. Yet, except for
those few papers strewn about, you couldn’t find any other sign of
work. Not a goddamned receipt, invoice, or contract.
Then
why did she look so tired? I’d
be more than happy to discover what ailed her and take care of her
every need. Teach her the pleasure I could give. How relaxed I’d
leave her after taking what so sweetly hid between her thighs.
Taking
in a deep breath, my girl squared her shoulders before standing up.
Then, when she stood, I took in that she’d changed clothes. Gone
was the sexy little number from before, the one that wrapped around
her fucking beautiful body like a second skin and held a tiny bow
across her hip.
I
wanted to bite that string, hold it tight between my teeth, and like
a rabid dog destroy it.
Now,
she stood before me in something that could be a bit more dangerous
for her—for the both of us. There she was; the picture of
come-inducing innocence.
Denim
fucking overalls.
These
were not the standard Dickies brand work ones that came to mind. No.
Fuck, no.
Janelle
didn’t do simple. These were shorts; indecent and showed more than
what was acceptable for this line of work. If she’d bent over just
a tiny bit, her ass would peek out.
And
my handprint would adorn the succulent flesh. I’d be fucked if she
showed herself to anyone.
My
eyes traveled up her body, and she shivered at my unapologetic
perusal. So much skin. Temptation. Damn woman knew what her coy
bullshit did to me.
“What
the fuck are you wearing!” This wasn’t meant as a question; more
like an angry demand for answers. Underneath her overalls she wore a
simple white tube top. Tiny. Cropped. Barely covered her breasts.
“Are you kidding me right now?”
I’d
attack her little ass. Who could blame me after all the cat and mouse
games we played?
“This
old thing?” Batting her lashes, Janelle smiled at me. Baiting me
into action.
“Are
you looking to get fucked? Because if that’s what you want—”
“More
like a ride.”
Her
naturally perky tits held up by what seemed to be Lycra, nothing
more. No bra strap. Just a quick tug—a pull, and I’d be savoring
her taste. Enjoying the heaviness and natural sweet aroma she exuded.
“Janelle,
walk away before I take what you aren’t ready to give.” I was
vibrating; my hands clenched at my sides as a raging war battled
within me. A man could only take so much. “Lord knows I’m trying
here, but you keep pushing. Enough already…bend over, or let’s
get out of here.”
“Eyes
up here, Yoshi,” she snapped, mock anger coloring her tone at my
abrasive words. But the quick inhale of air she took while I walked
closer didn’t escape my notice. Her hands shook slightly, as if she
wanted to reach out and touch me.
“And
if I refuse?” Another step, her body trembling—just a slight
uncontrollable shiver that she tried and failed to hide.
“Please.”
Fuck. That one word—her tone, and I was putty in her motherfucking
hands.
“Why
should I?” Then, it wasn’t just her body that shook—shivered
from anticipation. There wasn’t a single molecule of my DNA that
didn’t want her.
Felt
her presence.
Her
damn hold on me.
Tethered
in a way I had no way to explain.
“We
can’t…just please.” Her voice was soft, breathy as she tried to
put an invisible wall between us. She failed.
“I
love hearing you beg,” I admitted, and she didn’t disappoint.
There it was. That spark. The fire I’d come to expect from her.
“Plus, I’m enjoying this too much to stop.”
“Fuck
you.” Strike one. “And why should I beg? Men fall at my feet,
Yoshi. I don’t bow down to anyone.” Janelle ran the tip of her
tongue across her bottom lip and took her own step forward.
Challenging me. Her reactions were making me dizzy.
One
minute telling me to stop.
The
next daring me to take her.
That
entire room sizzled with our intensity.
Now,
she was within my reach. So close. A mere two steps away.
Pulling
her supple body against mine would be so easy. And she knew this, was
aware of my every breath—every twitch of my cock against the denim
of my jeans. Evading me as my hand reached out for her, and I growled
out my displeasure.
“Answer
me, Yoshi,” she taunted, while tapping that bottom lip I craved to
taste. “Why should I beg?” Another groan left me at the sight. I
wanted to grab her. Fuck her against that goddamned desk she was
always bent over. Another step closer, and now we were almost
touching.
Her
heat seared me.
Instead
of touching me, though, the sexy bitch decided to walk around me, all
the while running a slim finger across my shoulder blades and chest.
“Quit
fucking with me,” I all but snarled at her, body seizing, ready to
devour my prey. “I’m not into games, sweetheart…bend over or
move.” Because that’s what this was. A game. Survival of the
fittest. Motherfucking prey versus predator.
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