Our friends looked to be sitting at the edge of their seats while Eloise and I approached the table—their curious eyes looking to know what transpired in our room after Eloise discovered who I was.

And I'm sure it's because Eloise strode through the restaurant like she was on a mission to open up a can of whoop ass once she got to our awaiting table of friends.

I suppose it didn't help that I told her I'd fuck her in front of our friends if she misbehaved. And if that wasn't it, it could be because she caught herself moaning when I planted another kiss on her lips, leaving her breathless when the elevator doors opened and I stepped out, leaving her standing where she was.

But I suppose the real reasons are that she feels blindsided that Isabelle failed to fill her in that me—her boss—the bosshole she despises with a passion is who she's holed up with all week. Who's also her dancing partner and the one walking her down the aisle of her best friend's wedding?

Oh, and everyone but she knows I was her one-night stand four months ago.

Even I'm still stunned by that one. Never in my life had I slept with an employee who works for me. Ever.

Rory's expression looks like he's worried he'll be stepping in and breaking up a fight between Eloise and me sometime during the meal.

Hudson and Shelby also looked like they were anticipating a fight to begin, where we'd be asked to leave by hotel staff.

Greyson and Amanda looked like they were studying our faces—mainly mine—looking like they were expecting to find some scratches or bruises on my face because of Eloise's aggressive personality.

Carina looked amused as could be. And Jace and Tallulah looked more than thrilled, like they knew the table was about to become loud—and embarrassing. And they couldn't wait to witness Eloise and me going at it like a married couple.

Of course, Aaron not only had a shit-eating grin on his face, but he also looked entertained. After what I had him do for me the prior week, and he fucked up by giving her a box of screws, he knows he now has a front-row seat to see how my week with Eloise will go.

He also looks like he thinks I'll invite him to join us in a threesome sometime this week, which will never happen. I've shared with him before, but I will not be sharing Eloise.

And then there's poor Isabelle, trying to read Eloise's expression. She also has a concerned look in her eye, like she's wondering if Eloise will be telling her once she gets to the table, she's leaving to go home.

So when Eloise flew by me on a mission to get to our table, I hurried after her before she embarrassed everyone. When I caught up to her, I made sure she knew not to make a scene by parking my hand firmly on the small of her back and reminding her that if she can't say anything nice, not to say anything at all.

Like she'll do that... I already know she'll be firing rounds. If not now, it'll be soon.

When we got to the table, I pulled out a chair for Eloise to sit beside Isabelle. Instead of sitting in the chair I offered her, she took the next seat over beside Aaron.

"Hello, you two," Isabelle happily greeted us as I sat. "Did you guys have a nice talk?"

"Oh, yeah, it was fucking nice, all right," Eloise grumbled. "It's always lovely when you're excited to get away from your boss' bullshit for a week, to spend much-needed time in paradise, only to find out you'll still have to deal with him. Instead of dealing with the motherfucker through emails, as I had been. I'm being forced to deal with him directly."

Strike one.

Aaron laughed at her remark, and everyone but Isabelle pursed their lips. "Eloise. Callum is not as bad as you think he is," Isabelle said, surprisingly sticking up for me. "You two just got off on the wrong foot. So give him a chance."

"Try working with him," Eloise hissed, glaring at her friend. "you'll think differently."

"You never know, Eloise. He may just be your future," Isabelle suggested, grinning from ear to ear. I know Rory's bride-to-be is just teasing her, but my twisted mind right now is thinking she's right. Because I could. The only problem is that even though I don't want another man touching Eloise, I still won't do relationships.

And that's fucked up.

"Glow sticks have a brighter future than being with Callum. They last longer in bed, too," Eloise satirized as the waitress came to our table, asking what Eloise and I would like to drink.

Strike two.

Eloise's eyes finally broke from Isabelle's, telling the young Hawaiian waitress, "I'll have a screwdriver since apparently everyone here loves screwing me."

Again, Aaron chuckled and then mumbled, "I wouldn't mind screwing you."

I wanted to reach behind Eloise and smack Aaron upside the head for that comment. But since she didn't look at Aaron after his remark, told me she didn't hear him. Instead, I raised my hand, showing the waitress three fingers, saying, "the best scotch you've got. Johnnie Walker Blue, preferably. Neat."

Then my hand lowered to Eloise's thigh; I leaned into her ear, squeezed her thigh, and asked, "Where's your mute button?"

"I don't have one. Remember?"

I squeezed her thigh again, then when she stiffened, I slid my hand up her beautiful leg, underneath her sundress, and extended a digit to her pussy, sliding my finger on it with a bit of pressure, quietly letting her know, "I know it's here. And so far, you have two strikes against you. One more strike, and I'll finger fuck you right here," I warned, kissing her cheek.

Eloise's jaw clenched, and I chuckled at her reaction. Then I sat back in my chair. And as our group conversed about the wedding and what we'd be doing all week. My eyes drifted away from them to look at the view beside us. The Oceanside restaurant and sports bar we were at offered vitalizing views of the Pacific Ocean. And right now, the view was stunning—especially with the sun beginning to set over the beautiful Pacific Ocean waves crawling gently toward shore and drenching the sandy beach.

And the vision I imagined made my dick twitch with desire—kissing Eloise on the beach with the ocean waves crashing at our feet and the beautiful sun setting behind us. Not a sight I expected to imagine, and it dismayed me once I realized I envisioned being romantic—something I don't do, like doing, or even know how to be.

I try playing the part of swooning the ladies and getting them into bed, and that part works well for me, but being an actual romantic, making the woman's heart swell with fulfillment and delight, is not something in my blood.

Why try being a romantic when no matter what you do to make that woman smile and feel good, showing how much you care about them doesn't do a lick of good—leading you to heartbreak, anyway?

When the waitress returned with our drinks, she and I gave our food orders. I ordered the miso-marinated local fish with roasted fingerling potatoes, sautéed brussel sprouts, and shiitake mushrooms smothered with wasabi ginger beurre blanc sauce. And Eloise? Instead of ordering a meal as I asked her, she ordered pineapple spears and a Blue Hawaiian to drink with her pineapple.

At least she's eating something, I guess.

Eloise quietly sat in her chair, ignoring everyone as she stared at her screwdriver, stirring it slowly with her straw. I saw the wheels were rotating in her mind, and I'm sure she was thinking about what she could say next without it earning her another strike.

Finally, Isabelle snapped Eloise out of her daydreaming when she asked. "So, Eloise. You never told me which song you chose from the list I gave you for the wedding party entrance song, and they need to know first thing tomorrow."

Eloise looked at me, then at Isabelle, groaning. "I chose one, but now I changed my mind about that song choice. I'll get back to you on that either tonight or in the morning," she politely told her, but I still noticed a bit of harshness in her tone.

Isabelle's eyes lit up. "Oh? Which one did you choose? And why are you changing your mind?" she inquired, smiling.

"You're the one that I want. And I'm changing it because," Eloise flung her thumb my way, "I don't want this buffoon thinking I want him. So, now I'm thinking, maybe, MC Hammer's U Can't Touch This, or maybe even Who Let The Dogs Out." She paused and then pointed in the air, shouting, "Wait! How about the song, I'm so miserable without you, it's like having you around, by Billie Walker!"

I chuckled while bringing my glass to my lips. "You should have given me the song list you needed help with. If I had a shot at deciding, I would have chosen ACDC's You Shook Me All Night Long, or I'm Too Sexy, by Right Said Fred."

Isabelle laughed, "Ooh! I like that one! It would be great having all the guys strutting themselves onto the dance floor, stripping their clothes off!"

"No. It's bad enough I saw this one naked when I found him tonight; I don't need to see him without a stitch on, on your wedding night," Eloise groaned. She lifted her drink, wrapped her lips around the straw, and sucked every last drop of liquid into her mouth. Then, continuing, "The next thing Callum would think is that I'm drooling over him. The funny thing is, if I had a dick and saw him naked, I'd call him the boner-shrinker."

Strike three...

"I don't remember you thinking that way, all the times we fucked," I let the entire table know. "In fact. You kept begging for more when you thought I was done feeding the kitty."

"Maybe it was because you weren't meeting the expectations of the type of food you were trying to feed the kitty."

Strike four... lies...

"Or maybe it was because you talked a big game, and the tummy tickle I expected to feel every time your dick was inside me wasn't doing its job or what I expected it would do. So it left me begging until I got what I needed. Which was never..."

She's on a roll. Because that's strike five... she must want me to punish her.

"Oh shit... Callum! Did you lose your touch?" Aaron asked loudly, wide-eyed, looking over Eloise.

I set my empty glass down, and with my eyes on Eloise, I said, "Nope. I haven't lost my touch. We just have a brat at the table thinking she's being funny."

Our food finally arrived, and when the waitress set Eloise's pineapple in front of her, I said to her, "Hopefully, after you finish eating your pineapple, it'll make you sweeter to deal with the rest of the night."

"I doubt it will," she returned nonchalantly, picking up a piece of the grilled pineapple and taking a bite.

She's lucky our food came. After warning Eloise, I'd finger fuck her after the third strike, which she now has five, will have to be delayed until I finish eating. I'm fricken starving. Plus, I know I'll need all the energy I can get to deal with Eloise the rest of the evening.

Eloise didn't say a word as we ate, and she didn't interact in any of the conversations our table discussed what else our group wished to do while vacationing in Hawaii. Instead, she just drank her drinks, ate her pineapple, and scrolled through her phone the entire time—acting like she wasn't there with us.

But she must have known something was coming because when I finished eating my food and covered my plate with my napkin, Eloise excused herself, telling us she needed to use the ladies' room. She gave me a dirty look, like she was seconds away from putting me out of my misery, and then bolted away from the table.

Isabelle leaned to me, saying, "Eloise isn't as upset as she's leading us all to believe. I know her well enough to know it's an act. Sure, she's pissed at us for not telling her, but I also noticed the relief on her face. She's grateful knowing she has her "Cal" back in her life," she said, finger quoting Cal, then informed, "Cal is all she's talked about since she returned from Florida, wishing she'd run into you again," she giggled. "She's just acting mad because the man she's dreamed about, talked about, and wished to see again, turned out to be the man she's grown to hate. But I don't think she hates the boss as she claimed. For some strange reason, I think she figured out who you were a while ago and was afraid to admit it."

If that's the case, I'm sure she'll tell me when she loses her shit on me.

Greyson grinned at me, humorously saying, "It looks like you've got your work cut out for you trying to keep her in line this week. Was it worth keeping who you were a secret from her?"

I shrugged. "I'm not worried about having to deal with Eloise. And yes. It was worth it. Because the plan I have for her to keep her on her best behavior this week will be fun." I looked at Isabelle, grinning, "Your friend will no longer be the angel of darkness—the daughter of Satan by the time we leave Hawaii. Instead, she'll be a paragon of virtue—angelic and heavenly. I'm sure of it."

***

Eloise must have gone into the ladies' room to think and decided to make a U-turn. After thinking about what she was doing, she must have decided to change her tune about acting like a brat to her best friend and me. Because she surprised everyone when she returned to the table twenty minutes later, apologizing for her behavior towards Isabelle and making rude remarks to me.

It was a nice gesture on her part, but I knew she was up to no good. She knew she was in trouble with me for how she was acting and knew I'd discipline her for it, so I'm sure she felt apologizing to our friends and I would make me have a change of heart and leave her alone.

Wrong... if I let her get away with how she acted this time, she'll expect it whenever she acts up around me. And I won't fall for it. And I knew she was up to something because after apologizing, she insisted we head to the beach bar to grab some drinks and to watch the entertainment that was going on, on the beach—Hawaiian fire dancers.

She's delaying discipline, which is fine. I'll give in—for now. She apologized, so instead of embarrassing her in front of my friends and their wives. I'll wait until we get in our room.

It's the least I could do. Right?

So. When the girls got their drinks and headed to watch the show. I stayed near the bar with my friends and watched from there—both the performance and Eloise.

"Did you say something to Eloise to make her do a one-eighty?" Rory asked.

I shook my head, watching the guy dance and throw his fire torches into the air. "Nope."

"I wonder what made her change her tune?" he asked, picking my brain for answers.

"She's playing a game."

"A game? A game of being nice and acting like nothing was said?"

Rory must not know Eloise as I do, which made me chuckle. "Yes. A game. She's prolonging something I told her I'd do if she acted like a bitch in front of everyone."

"What are you planning on doing to her?"

"Discipline," I enlightened bluntly.

Rory nervously laughed, bringing his drink to his lips. "And how do you plan on doing that?" he asked, sounding trepidatious to know what I've got planned.

I turned his way and smirked. "Don't worry about what I've got planned for Eloise. I won't be beating or doing anything to hurt her if that's what you think I plan on doing. I'm not a monster."

"I never said you were. But we're thousands of miles from home, and the last thing I need to deal with, is two upset women for a week—both wishing to go home before the wedding. And if that happens, I'll kick your fucking ass."

"I can assure you that won't happen. Trust me. Eloise will be just fine."

I turned to face the girls, and when I caught Eloise eying me, I blew a kiss at her and winked. She truly is a beautiful woman—not just beautiful. But gorgeous. And tonight, she looks exceptionally bootylicious. Her amber hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, and the spaghetti strap flower sundress she wore showed her amazing curves and beautiful breasts. Her perfectly glowing sun-kissed tan, stunningly green eyes, and beautiful smile were worth giving her credit for what a knockout she was.

And instead of hanging out on the beach watching the flame-throwing show, I'd rather be in the room with Eloise. I want to be tasting her lips, feeling her smooth, silky skin, eating her delicious pussy, and putting her in a state of ecstasy that'll have her smiling all day tomorrow instead of insulting me all day.

I caught her looking at me again, so I waved.

"I say we give her what she needs," Aaron said.

"What's that?"

"Sensual gratification—a taste of you and me. I'd bet she'd enjoy having two studs filling her holes, eating her up, and giving many orgasms—the most orgasms she's ever had in one night."

I instantly saw red and turned his way, aiming my finger at him, furrowing my brows as I snapped, "You will stay away from her. Do you hear me? I refuse to share Eloise with you. She's better than that. All right?"

"I was only suggesting," he said with an oh shit look in his eye.

"Yeah, well. Suggest something else because Eloise is my girl. And I will not do any of the sorts with her. Got it?"

His eyes grew wide. "Wow... I guess I never realized you were that serious about her. I assumed you were confused and just talking out of your ass. Because you," he pointed at me, "never claim a woman as yours. And the last time you did, was with you know who."

"Thanks for not saying her name. But you need to know; this is no joke—she's all mine. And Eloise is not a toy. She's nothing like the other women we entertained."

"Fine. I'll never bring it up again."

"Good... thank you."

I didn't want to talk anymore about my thing with Eloise. So, after seeing men talking to her, I returned to the bar, had the bartender refill my glass with scotch, ordered Eloise another Blue Hawaiian, and then headed over to the firecracker looking to be lit and set off.

When I approached her, I wrapped my arm with her drink in my hand around her, kissed her cheek, and asked, "Are you having fun?"

"I was," she groaned, eyeing the drink I brought her. "Let me guess, a mood-altering drink to make me like you and to give you what you want."

I lifted the drink as I leaned over her, took a long sip to show her I didn't fuck with her beverage, and said, "You should know me by now that I wouldn't do such a thing." And it pissed me off she would assume I'd do that to her.

She snatched the drink from my hand and turned her head my way, the heat of her breath fanning my lips when she said, "The thing is, I don't know you. First, you were CEO Cal; now you're CEO Callum—my heartless prick bosshole who claims I'm his."

The corner of my lips twitched. "You are mine, sweetheart. What will it take for you to realize that?"

"Hmm," she hummed. "What will it take?" she quietly wondered. Then, after a few minutes of thinking, she said, "I think the day I'll accept hearing you say I'm yours will be the day you admit that I truly am—you know when you tell me and everyone else that you're officially in a relationship with me. Exclusive only to me. Until then. You cannot make me say you're mine. And you're not allowed to say I'm yours. So that means if I want to go on a date, fuck a man that isn't you, talk to men wanting to talk to me, I'm doing it. And there's nothing you can say or do about it."

Nope. Not happening. Eloise can be my girl, and I can be her man without us claiming we're in a committed relationship. Can't we? Because relationships are overrated, right?

In her eyes, probably not.

But that's okay because I always get what I want, no matter the situation. And Eloise is mine whether she says so or not. You can clearly see on her face that she wants to tell the world she's mine; she's just being stubborn, just to be the brat she is and loves being.

Eloise McKnight is Callum Harrison's girl... and that's a fact.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! 🤞🤞