Page 8 of Mr. Big Stuff

“They challenged each other. And instead of seeing the fussing as their language they let what the world says is dysfunction get in the way. But from my view, they had a rhythm. Harmony. And even now, everyone living in that building believes they shouldn’t have divorced.”

I found this all fascinating. My dad dying right before my high school graduation prevented me from seeing the full breadth of his marriage to my mom. Sure, I saw their interactions and heard some of their talks, even the more tense ones, but I was too wrapped up into being a teenager to consider whether their marriage was healthy or not. I just know Mommy loved him and grieved him still.

“Marriage can be an interesting struggle or a beautiful peace,” I murmured without thinking. I wanted to experience the beautiful peace but may never have the chance if I couldn’t get my life together. The silence that surrounded us reminded me of myself and I felt shy under his perusal. To have opened up to him in this short span of time of knowing himandhim being my boss was foolish.

“You ever been married, Ms. Copeland?”

I felt my cheeks warm under his scrutiny, and his eyes shone with interest.

“No, never. Have you, Mr. McCullough?”

“Never. But I want to.”

We watched each other with neither of us looking away until his phone buzzed from inside his coat pocket, finally giving me a moment to breathe outside of the intensity of his stare, his intelligence, his energy. He apologized about needing to respond to his message and I used that time to think about what the heck was happening and in such a short amount of time.

I had a million and one not appropriate questions to ask my boss, but given we moved into this territory, those questions still wanted answers. I wouldn’t ask them though.

We talked a bit more before we headed back to the office, and I got back to work. That night a delivery was waiting for me on my porch. I smiled, took a shower and, buried two fingers inside of me with one hand and with the other held my new lover—this one named Raymond, against my throbbing clit until my pussy massaged my soaking wet fingers.

Chapter6

Tracey

A few days later…

“Mr. McCullough …”

My new boss looked up from his laptop and gave me a serious expression. Maybe another one of his unspoken rules involved being interrupted while he was working.

“Yes, Ms. Copeland?”

“I’m getting ready to head out but wanted to provide you with an update first if now is a good time.”

He seemed to then realize the time.

“I didn’t even realize the time. It slipped away from me. You know you only have to work until five—not six, right?”

I nodded my head. “Yes, I realize that, but I know you have a deadline to meet for your big event and there seems to be a lot of work piled up. I wanted to make sure I understood your system so that I can breeze through the numbers for you … I hope I didn’t overstep?” I added the question because of his confused expression.

“No, not at all. I’m just surprised.”

“At what?”

“It’s really nothing. I’m just not used to getting that go getter mentality out of the people that work for me.”

“Ahhh, I see. Well like I told you before, I am eager to do my job, Mr. McCullough.”

“I see that now.”

We stared at each other. If he didn’t stop looking at me like that, I would turn him around in his chair and get on my knees and suck him so that his eyes would close, and my body could cool down from all this forbidden want.

“Well anyway, I heard back from someone at KIB and Mr. Berry would like to meet with you tomorrow at noon at KIB downtown. He knows it’s Saturday but it’s his only free day.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“No, sir.” Watching his expression, my smile fell. “I thought this would make you happy.”

My mind searched for where I went wrong. I’m pretty sure I did what he wanted.

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