Watching Eloise speak made my dick twitch. She was funny, confident, beautiful, and so fucking stunning I wanted to steal her away and find a place to fuck her.
Her hair was all twisted up in a beautiful updo, exposing her long, glorious neck. Her peach-colored dress brought out her gorgeous sun-kissed tan and enchanting green eyes. And the jewelry she wore, the ones I bought her, looked beautiful on her. The necklace and earrings accentuated her flawless neck, and one I'd like to be fucking devouring right now.
Everything about Eloise tonight has my mind racing with thoughts. And it's making me go crazy, and I'm not sure I like my thoughts.
What I do know about one of these thoughts is I didn't care to hear Eloise talking about adding a third wheel to our sexual playtime. Insinuating she'd be for a threesome if I ever brought it up. And as much as I enjoy threesomes, I don't want to share this one with anyone.
And it was something my mind had been only thinking about since she told me that before the wedding ceremony began.
A reason why I kissed her before she headed to her side to stand.
A reason why I couldn't keep my eyes off her during the ceremony.
A reason why I carried her down the aisle instead of accompanying her down the aisle.
A reason I lifted her over my shoulder and smacked and grabbed her ass.
And a reason why I still can't keep my eyes off her is that I don't want her out of my sight, for another man to come on to her. Something I know will happen sometime during the evening—she's way too gorgeous not to want to talk to her.
I just can't fathom the thought of another man's dick inside her.
And everything I've done since Eloise's words got under my skin is me showing all single attendees they better stay away from her. I don't know if it's working, but I do hope it has. Because the last thing I want to do tonight, or while in Hawaii, is get in a fight with some horny dude who thinks he'll be able to talk Eloise into fucking him.
Nope. Not fucking happening.
I wasn't prepared to give a speech. And with all these recent weddings I've been forced to attend, you would think my dumbass would know by now that the best man is supposed to give a fucking speech. It goes to show after forgetting to set up a bachelor party for Rory, and now this speech. I blocked out everything that had to do with weddings. And it shows how much I ignored what was happening during these weddings.
The look on Eloise's face says she knows how much I'm not prepared, and she's eating it up. I don't write speeches. She writes them for me.
Fuck... what do I even say?
Use your brain and heart, Eloise told me.
Well... here goes nothing.
"Good evening, everyone. I'm Callum, Rory's best friend since we were kids. Or, as Eloise, Isabelle's beautiful maid of honor, said, a menace." I looked at Eloise and grinned. "I may be a menace, but you, my dear, are still a hemorrhoid—my favorite hemorrhoid..."
Her eyes rolled. But she still smiled.
"Anyway..." I said, returning my eyes to the attendees. "Everyone at this table knows I'm not one for weddings, so when Rory came to me demanding I be his best man, I wasn't sure I could do it or even wanted to do it. Being asked to be his best man was like being called to jury duty. You don't want to do it, but you know you have to. However, I accepted because he is my best friend, and I love him and his new wife, hoping I wouldn't screw this up for them. So, with that said, I hope what leaves this mouth next will be acceptable and not too mushy. Me and mushy don't get along," I chuckled, and so did everyone in the room.
Rory patted me with a smile, letting me know whatever I said next, he'll forgive me if I said something out of line.
"I know everyone here would like to get this party started, so I'll keep this short." I stood behind the couple, looked down at them, over to Eloise, and noticed her eyes were glossy from tears pooling in them, ran my fingers through my hair, and said, "It sure has been an emotional day, hasn't it?" Then, I looked at the cake, chuckling as I pointed, "Look, not only is the maid of honor in tears, but even the cake is in tiers as well."
That made everyone laugh.
And I earned an evil glare from Eloise, making me chuckle.
Speak from the heart...
I can do this.
"Now, before I end this speech, I have to say the hotel manager asked that I instruct you all, for health and safety reasons, that none of you get up on top of the chairs and table during my standing ovation."
Everyone laughed.
Including me.
I looked down at the beautiful couple, grinning. "Okay, you two. Could you do something for me? Isabelle, I want you to please put your left hand flat on the table. And Rory? Please place your hand on top of hers. Enjoy this moment, my friend, because it's the first and last time in your marriage that you'll have the upper hand."
Rory's head dropped as he laughed, shaking it.
He knows it's true.
I reached for my drink, lifted it in the air, saying, "Everyone raise your glass and join me in a toast to Rory and Isabelle—here is to a lifetime of love and happiness and an adventure that'll add lots of wonderful memories. Congratulations."
I'm sure Eloise assumed I'd choke, and I probably did. But I thought I did all right for someone who has no idea how to be romantic or sentimentally express my feelings. I'm sure I could have said more if I had thought this out better, but I just wanted to get it over with to get Eloise in my arms and dance with her.
Christ... listen to me... what is going on that she's making me softhearted, sappy, and sickly sweet.
After the bride and groom's first dance and our bridal party dance ended, I refused to allow Eloise to exit the dance floor; I still wanted to consume the girl that was slowly ruining me. And as I held her in my arms, holding her close while gazing into her beautiful green eyes, my heart pounded like a hummingbird's wings, and the blood flowing through my body caused all sorts of weird sensations. The booming was so furious and incessant that my heart seemed to swell into a mallet and swing against my rib cage—a drum full of dirt that might burst at any moment.
"Are you going to behave now?"
I shook my head slowly, still soaking in the beautiful woman before me. "I don't think I can."
"Why?"
"Because." I sighed. "Ever since you mentioned how you'd possibly be interested in a threesome, I can't stop thinking about it."
Amusement appeared on her face, her lips slowly curving into a smile. "Why?" she pressed hard. "Are you trying to tell me you're interested in hooking us up with one?"
"Fuck. No," I stated firmly. "There's no fucking way I'd allow it."
"Why?" she pressed again, asking why like a five-year-old when you try explaining something to them.
"Because. I wouldn't be able to handle it."
She arched a questionable brow. "But didn't you say you've had threesomes before?"
"Yes," I groaned.
"So... what's the big deal?"
I can see it on her face and hear it in her voice. She's fucking with me, trying to pick a fight. And I think she's trying to get me to admit to something I'm still unsure about. Or it's something I'm not ready to accept.
I guess you could say I'm that fucked up in the head.
Fuck.
I don't know what's going on with me. And I still feel like Eloise put a fucking spell on me in Florida. And how Eloise is looking hot as fuck tonight, and how she's the most beautiful woman in the room, my mind is confusing me, causing me not to think straight.
"Because it is." I lowered my hand to the heat between her thighs, informing her, "This is mine." I shoved my hips into her, rubbing my cock on her as I said, "And this is yours."
Her lips twitched. "Are you trying to tell me you want us to be exclusive to only each other?"
Yes.
But that wasn't what left my lips. "No."
"No?" she asked, surprised. "So all this you're mine crap is just a game you're playing with me to see if I'd cheat?"
"No," I answered quickly, dragging my fingers through my hair. "It's not a game, Eloise. You are mine because I don't want another man touching or fucking you."
"You can't have it both ways," she scolded. As she should because I'm not making sense.
And I'm not. I know that much.
"Forget it, Callum. I don't want to talk about this anymore. I want to enjoy the rest of my night, and since we have one more night together to get through, I want you to know you don't have to worry about me hooking up with someone else. Okay?"
I'm such a fucking idiot.
I didn't want to argue with her tonight. So happy to hear she won't allow another man to work her, I nodded.
When she walked away, I headed to the bar and sat on the stool like a barfly, anxious to pound as many drinks as possible to get drunk—to get this night over with faster. As I sat at the bar thinking while sipping my scotch, I quickly spun the chair around when the D.J. announced the bride and her bridesmaids would be doing a dance before the bouquet toss.
Of course, I only held my gaze on Eloise, which made me smile, seeing her alluring smile and having fun. And I also couldn't help but laugh during their You Can't Touch This dance—something tells me that was Eloise's doing. Which only made it more hysterical. And when the song ended, and Eloise remained on the dance floor, looking to catch her best friend's bouquet, it affected the thing in my chest that controls a person's thoughts and emotions—because she's showing everyone—she's single.
That means if she catches it, for the first time in my life, I'll be on the floor trying to catch a garter to keep Eloise out of the arms of another man.
Sigh...
Eloise caught the damn thing. And from what I saw, Isabelle purposely made sure her friend caught her fucking bouquet.
Hudson stood beside me. "Drink up, lover boy. It's our turn."
Yeah, yeah. "Loverboy," I scoffed.
Hudson laughed. "You've been acting weird all day. And because of that, we've been trying to figure out what's happening with you. And after watching you around her, we all agree, it's pretty evident you've fallen for Eloise. So don't even try to deny your feelings about her."
I finished my drink, set my empty glass on the bar top, and rose from my chair. Then, ignoring his statement, I said, "Let's get the groom on his throne."
"Yeah, let's do that," he responded, sounding frustrated with me.
Believe me, Hudson. I'm frustrated with myself right now, too. I refused to admit to Eloise that I wanted her all to myself—an exclusive relationship between just her and me.
Again, I'm an idiot.
We got Rory onto his Throne, and when the theme to Lion King played in the speakers, we groomsmen lifted the chair high into the air and walked him through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Earning claps, whistles, and laughs from everyone. We carefully lowered him to the ground, and when he left the chair, Hudson and Jace shoved the chair out of the way, and we lined up in front of Isabelle.
The song choices we created to give everyone a chuckle was Single Ladies, Candy Man, Twist and Shout, Gangnam Style, and Grease Lightning. But we also had a surprise finale we included in our dance— (I've Had) The Time of My Life from Dirty Dancing, in which we'll reenact the scene where Patrick Swayze lifted Jennifer Grey.
I can't believe I'm doing this without complaining or being drunk. And there's only one significant reason why I am—Eloise. She's given me a reason to enjoy being where I am and doing what I am. And seeing how she's intently watching me dance, smiling and laughing at our dance routine, makes my heart swell so much more than it did earlier.
I have grown to love seeing Eloise angry with me, but what's grown on me so much more is seeing her happy and smiling. And if I were honest with myself, I'd say that I prefer that more than I do getting off on making her angry with me.
Our finale was ending, so we lifted Rory into the air, and he reenacted; Jennifer Grey's arms extended like a bird soaring in the sky. Then we carried him over to Isabelle, anxiously waiting in a chair for her husband to remove her garter to Prince's song Pussy Control.
"You better go out there to catch Isabelle's garter," Greyson suggested. It was more of an order, but little did he know I had already planned on it because I refuse to let Eloise dance with another man.
"I'm going out there, don't worry."
I better catch the fucking thing, too. If I don't, I'll do everything possible to ensure I end up with it.
And I mean everything...
I also glared at Aaron when I saw him entering the dance floor—the fucker winked and smirked at me. Then my pansy-ass started sweating when he continued walking toward the single men. I swear to God, if he catches it, he better hand it over to me, or he'll see my fist.
Finally, Rory proudly emerged from Isabelle's dress, with the garter pinched between his teeth. He rose to his feet, and so did Isabelle. Then, as all the men circled Rory, she covered his eyes, counting down until he flung the thing into the air. I had no idea how he'd launch it, in front of him or behind, so I silently prayed to be in the right spot at the right time when that damn peach-colored band left his hand.
With as much as I was sweating, I wanted to rip my shirt off, and just as I started unbuttoning it, Rory tossed the garter straight up in the air, and I flew into the air like I was Michael Jordan trying to make a slam dunk.
The next thing that happened was two grown men dropping to the ground, playing tug of war with a piece of fabric that had been attached to Isabelle's leg moments earlier.
"I'm going to kick your fucking ass if you don't let go," I warned Aaron.
He laughed. "Why should I? I'm just as single as you are. And the one who caught the bouquet is just as single as us."
"Aaron, I swear..." he chuckled, and the next thing I knew, I was on my back, lying on the ground. I shot back so fast as if we were tugging on a rubber band, and it snapped.
Aaron stood, laughing, and held his hand for me to grab. "You putz... I only came out here to be sure you ended up with the thing. And then, by you fighting me for it like a dominant asshole, I couldn't help but fuck with you," he said proudly, grinning from ear to ear.
"Asshole."
He slapped my backside, then gave me a push toward Eloise, saying, "Now, go dance with your girl."
Nobody has to tell me to dance with the one girl who's driven me wild all week. So if I hear one more person tell me that Eloise is the girl I want tying me down, I'll lose it because I already know she is—and I'm pissing myself off that I can't admit it to anyone—not even to her.
"I should have known you'd end up with the garter."
"Did you think I'd allow someone else to get it?"
"No. But I have to tell you that you and Aaron looked ridiculous fighting over it."
I lifted a brow as I asked, "Were you hoping he'd be the one to end up with it?"
Please say no. Please say no. Please say no...
Her face lit up brightly, her eyes twinkled, and she smirked before saying, "Actually, I was."
I stopped moving. I stared into Eloise's eyes, and when I felt an ache in my chest, I asked, "Can I ask why?"
"I had to talk to him about something."
Fuck that... if she thinks I'll give in to her infatuation with having a threesome, she's got another thing coming. And she's going to learn that right now. I lifted Eloise, throwing her over my shoulder, and then as she protested about hanging over my shoulder, I marched us out of the wedding venue and to a secluded area in one of the cabanas near the beach. She screamed and hit me, all the while demanding I put her down.
When I did, she pushed me and shouted, "Jesus, Callum! What's your fucking deal?"
Instead of responding, I stepped toward her and pulled her in for a kiss. At first, she fought the kiss, but when my tongue glided along her bottom lip, she sucked it into her mouth and intensified the kiss like she was in charge.
I pressed her harder into my mouth when I deepened the kiss, letting her know I was in charge. My mouth took over hers more possessively to let her know I didn't appreciate her telling me she wanted to dance with Aaron.
She gasped for air when her mouth left mine, panting, "Fuck, Callum... why do you have to act like this? What did I say now that caused you to turn into a fucking caveman? And embarrass me in front of everyone inside the venue?"
"What did you need to talk to Aaron about?"
She gripped her hips, looking down at her feet. "Well, since this pertains to you, I'll tell you," she said, returning her eyes to me. I swear, if she brings up what my crazy mind thinks she will, I'll silence her with my mouth again. "Screws," she hinted.
"Screws?" I repeated as a question.
"I realized something today. Remember when I accused you of being in Chicago instead of New York?"
Fuck... "Yes... I do..."
"You sent Aaron to spy on me, didn't you?"
"I did," I said, shame in my voice. "He fucked up, though. The screws were his idea—not mine."
"And that's supposed to make things better? Accusing him of fucking up when it was you who sent him to invade my privacy?"
It does make me feel better. Yet it doesn't, so no, "It doesn't. I panicked after hearing you accepted to go out with Mason. So I sent him to make sure Mason kept his hands and mouth to himself. Aaron was supposed to report back to me about how the date went. And he was only supposed to step in if he saw Mason getting too close to my liking."
"And do what?" she angrily shouted, piercing my ears.
See, things like this are why I don't do relationships anymore. But this is one thing Eloise has every right to be upset about. I was in the wrong.
She's right about one thing, though. I invaded her privacy. And now I owe her for being a shithead.
I owe her big time.
"I don't know. I wanted Aaron to come up with something. Not diss me in the process by giving you screws." I framed her face with my hands, looked her in the eyes, and, coming from the heart she claims I don't have, I sincerely said, "I apologize. I should never have sent Aaron to spy on you. That was wrong of me. Please forgive me."
I dropped to my knees and looked at her pleadingly when she said nothing.
"Please, forgive me, Eloise.
It may be dark where we are, but I still saw her eyes roll. If times were different, I'd be a smart ass and tell her what she told me once when I rolled my eyes at her, "keep rolling your eyes; maybe you'll find your brain," but now isn't the time to fuck around, returning the mock.
Instead, I need her to accept my apology.
"Get up," she ordered.
"I can't."
"Why..." she groaned, huffing. "You look ridiculous on your knees, making it look like you're proposing to me."
"Is that what you want? Me to propose to you?"
"No. I want you to get up so we can return to the reception."
I pointed my finger at the ground. "I'm staying right here until I hear you've accepted my apology."
"Oh, my God, Callum. I accept your apology, now get up. I don't want to miss any more than I already have."
I reached to her hips, gripped them, and pulled her closer to me. "We can go back. But I want to do something first. I want to show you how sorry I am for involving Aaron in something I had no right to do."
Her lips formed into a slight smirk, which said she was about to fuck with me. And that's okay. She can do or say whatever she wants; I deserve it.
"On second thought. You look kind of good on your knees—looking vulnerable. It makes me feel like I'm the dominant one, and you're the submissive one."
"If you want to reverse the rolls tonight, we can do just that."
"Actually. No. I enjoy it the other way. I had fun trying to be dominant the other night, but I prefer it the other way," she admitted, surprising me. Because in her emails, it sounds like she likes being dominant.
Then again, maybe she talks to me the way she does to protect her heart, self-image, or emotional well-being?
"Until we get back to our room where I can properly show you how sorry I am, will you let me give you an orgasm right now?"
"I really want to get back to the party." Damn, I terribly need to fucking taste her right now. And I really want to bring her back to the reception smiling. "But... I could use an orgasm right now, too. So if that's what you want to do, I'm not stopping you."
Thank fuck.
I lifted her dress over me, and when I raised my hands to lower her panties and felt nothing, I groaned excitedly. "Eloise... why aren't you wearing any panties?"
"Because I didn't feel like it."
"Uh-huh... liar." She now knows me well enough to know that sometime during the wedding, I'd find time to pull her to the side and fuck her or what I'm about to do now—eat her fucking pussy.
"Okay. You got me. I removed them because—"
I didn't give her time to finish telling me her reasoning. Instead of talking, I wanted to hear her moan, so I lifted her leg and put it over my shoulder, and my mouth dug straight into the pie, shutting her up instantly.
Her hands rested on my head, and she happily purred, "Oh, Callum..."
I was desperate to give her an orgasm that would have her leaving this spot feeling like she was on cloud nine, and I slid my tongue repeatedly up and down between her pink, wet folds. Kissing, sucking, and flicking her clit with my magical tongue.
Her purrs and moans, kneading fingers, and gripping and pulling my hair through her dress thrilled me to the utmost degree. And it made me feel selfish not to want to give her an orgasm just yet. I wanted my mouth dug deep into her pussy for as long as possible until my lips and tongue were raw and swollen. And where everyone will know what we snuck out to do when we return to the party finally.
Only, I knew we had to get back to our friends before they thought my fucked up ass did something terrible to Eloise.
So speeding things up, I slid a couple of digits into her warmth, curled my fingers, and worked her insides, focusing on the one spot I knew excited her every time—her g-spot. All the while tongue fucking my favorite pussy.
"Ride my face," I commanded. "Ride it until you come all over my mouth."
Her hips rocked back and forth, and when she began see-sawing my face faster, I picked up the speed of my tongue and fingers, knowing she was on the verge of giving me the arousal I desperately wanted to drink.
"Oh, fuck, Callum. I'm about to come!"
"Keep going, baby. I want you to keep fucking my mouth until you release those sweet juices," I instructed Eloise, shivering when my lips tickled pussy.
And that's all I needed to do and say because the next thing she did was screamed my name while removing every strand of hair on my head when she gripped and pulled. Tugging hard when she climaxed.
I kept my mouth right where it was until my tongue soaked up every bit of the arousal she released.
My digits went right into my mouth when I removed them from her pussy, cleaning them off as I stood. I pulled her to my mouth and kissed her until she begged me to stop.
"Wow, Callum," she panted, gasping for air. "That was just what I needed. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I hope that will tie you over until the bride and groom say they've had enough for the night," I said, securing her to my side and kissing her head before I guided her back to the venue.
"They're going to wonder where we ran off to," she giggled.
"It won't take them long to figure it out."
"Why do you say that?" she asked, pressing her head deeper into my side.
When we got inside, and everyone was eyeing us, I grinned at her. "You've got sex written all over your face." Then I lowered my mouth, quietly saying, "It's extremely red."
Her head snapped backward, and she giggled when she looked at me. "Well, we both must look like we just got done doing fucking. Because you look like Ace Ventura, and your goatee is very wet."
I hope you enjoyed the chapter!! 🤞🤞