Blindsided By The Boss

7 - Callum

Eight in the morning. Eloise should walk into her office any second. And like clockwork, she did. And she also did her famous middle finger salute to the camera.

I chuckled, muttering, "Good morning, sunshine."

So, what are we wearing today? Will it be another see-through white, off-white, pink, baby yellow, or baby blue blouse with a black push-up bra? And a pencil skirt showing off your amazingly slender body?

She removed her jacket, hung it up, then faced the camera, making me chuckle when she unbuttoned her shirt halfway down, then adjusted her breasts to help them peek through the opening of the shirt.

And there's the double-fisted two-finger salute. I knew that was coming next.

Today, she's wearing a light pink blouse, a white bra, and a white pencil skirt. My naughty nun looks hot as fuck—and like an Easter egg dipped in pastel colors.

"You're looking mighty sexy today, Eloise," I muttered, lifting my cup of coffee to my lips. "Nothing like the Mother Teresa you looked like the night we fucked like wild rabbits."

For the last few months, and ever since the nightclub incident, that's all she's worn—skirts and see-through blouses. I'm not stupid. I know what she's doing. She's doing everything possible to get me to come into the office. Still wanting to duke it out with me.

Well, my beautiful green-eyed, dirty, naughty nun. It's not working.

You're going to have to do something other than that. It's tempting, for sure. But nope. I know myself. If I were to go into the office and see up close what I've missed since our night in Florida, it wouldn't have anything to do with work. Instead, it'll be me bringing you into my office, bending you over my desk, and fucking the disobedience out of you.

And that I can't do.

Since her email telling me to fuck off again, I've been a little distant with her to give her time to cool off. Not that I want to, and not that I want to give her the satisfaction of thinking I'm listening to her. I only did it because I've noticed that when I get her all riled up as I have, her work isn't the same as when I've left her alone.

And it's been tough avoiding Eloise because I enjoy fucking with her. I enjoy pissing her off. And I enjoy her telling me off. And it's so unlike me to enjoy this type of thing with an employee. Or any woman, for that matter.

One and done. That's how I like it.

But Eloise. There's just something about her I can't just stay away from. And that's what's pissing me off. She's what's pissing me off. And the reason she pisses me off is that ever since Florida, I haven't been able to look at another woman. I also haven't gotten laid because of it.

For some reason, my dick, eyes, and mind only want Eloise. And that's a problem—a huge fucking problem. I don't do relationships, and it's angering me that my dick is telling me otherwise.

A mocking laugh bellowed from my chest just thinking about it. "A relationship. With Eloise? I don't think so."

I already know that once she sees who I am and what I am to her, she'll go nuclear on me. I saw the fury in her eyes and the smoke billowing from her ears when she destroyed the voodoo doll, so I can only imagine what she'd do to me after she sees I'm not Cal, I'm Callum—her boss. And because I've learned how she thinks, I can hear her now; she'll accuse me of spying and stalking her in Florida. She'll make accusations of me not believing her about her grandmother's death and that I followed her there to see if she was lying to have some time off work for a short vacation.

And that's not the case either—I was part of my friend's wedding. I did, however, send Eloise's mother flowers after they returned home, apologizing for her mother's death. And because Eloise is so hell-bent on thinking I have no heart, I didn't want her to find out I sent the flowers. So I signed the card from a family friend.