Chapter One From ‘Dream Boss’



It was almost automatic how my fingers pinched the bridge of my nose the moment I entered our living room. Carter, my fiancé, had his clothes sprawled all over the floor as usual while he sat on the couch with one foot planted on the ground and the other cocked up on our glass coffee table. He was biting at his bottom lip and moving from left to right, in time with the movements of the heavily armed and suited character he played in his game of Halo. I shook my head, weaving around him, stuffing his clothes beneath my arm. This was not the thing I like to do after returning home from work on a Friday.

A sister was tired.

I mean, I do little at work besides answer phones and file documents but damn, can I come home, sit on the couch, and do something I like too?

“Myelle… baby, please move out the way,” he said. Carter leaned awkwardly to his left to see around me. That was where our mounted TV laid flush against the wall.

I shook my head then turned to leave the living room.

“Yo fuck you bitch, stay in your lane.”

“What you say?!” I spun around with the quickness.

He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of his video game headset and said, “not you baby,” before he blew me a kiss.

I stood there watching him, wondering why I put up with him.

He was lazy, hadn’t had a job in too long, and was so messy. Now, messy I could deal with but all the other shit, hell no!

Carter and I met almost two years ago when I brought my car to the auto-shop, where he was a mechanic, to get my brakes fixed. He approached me with the most confidence I’d ever seen in a brother. And he was fine too with a walk like Idris and a smile like Michael B. Jordan. He told me flat out he was attracted to me and it would make his world if I gave him my number. I didn’t give him my number that day, but I took his and didn’t call for like a month. But then I got lonely and horny and found myself scrolling through my phone in search of his number. We went out on a few dates and clicked. Our relationship seemed serious, so I suggested we take it to the next level while we dined on pizza and wine. The rest was history. So was my damn dignity.

Now we were engaged to be married, and he was driving me crazy now more than ever. But he was worth it… I think. Carter was a beautiful man from head-to-toe. He had this deep chocolate complexion that looked even more appetizing when it was all dewy from the sweating he did when we made love. He was so passionate, especially in bed. I just wished some of that passion would’ve rubbed off on his aspiring rap career.

He quit his job about a year after our relationship started telling me he wanted to focus more on his rap career and working as a mechanic was getting in the way. So, I promised to be there for him and support him. I meant it figuratively, not literally.

Now I paid for everything including the payments on my engagement ring. And that didn’t bother me.

What did was his inactivity.

“Why you just standing there?” he asked drawing me out of my thoughts. He paused his game and leaned forward to look me in my eyes.

“You don’t see this?” I pointed around the living room. “Your shit is everywhere?”

“Oh, this again,” he said, turning his attention back on his game. “I had a long day.”

I exhaled into my throat and pinched the bridge of my nose again to stop my creeping migraine. My head felt like a little monkey was in it banging against my brain with a cast iron pot. I knew I had to stop it before my migraine got worse, so I glanced over at the dining room table to confirm that my ibuprofen was still there. But instead of seeing the bottle of pills, I noticed the sealed box of wedding invitations. We’d gotten the invitations over a month ago and I asked Carter to handle them since he had more free time than me. They were supposed to be sent out the month before. The fact that the invites and envelopes were still in the box let me know he didn’t have that much of a long day.

“You didn’t even organize and label the invitations today Carter? That was the one thing I asked you to take care of.”

He dropped the back of his head against the couch and stared up at the ceiling like a teenager listening to his mother nag about him not doing his homework.

“You know we can pay someone to do that right?” he asked.

And he was right, we could. But I wasn’t trying to put any more money into paying for this wedding. I was the only one footing the bill… on everything. Besides, I wanted to take a DIY approach with at least one thing in our wedding.

“That’s not the point. I asked you to do it. You don’t even have to do much besides organize and label them and I’ve already printed out all the labels. You don’t have to write anything. Just organize, stuff, seal, and label.”

“Myelle, chill with this shit aight? I was at the studio all day. The last thing I wanted to do when I got back was work on some wedding stuff.” He wasn’t even looking at me at this point.

His eyes were fixed on the TV screen, lips hidden in his mouth, and all that could be heard was the clicking and clacking of him pressing buttons and moving the joystick.

I took a deep breath in and tried to keep calm. My first thought was to go over to the TV, pull the plug on his Xbox, rip the console off the wall unit, drop it in the tub, and open the faucet on that bitch. But that wasn’t my style though I wish it were.

“You need to take this wedding seriously. I feel like I’m doing everything by myself.”

“Well, baby you are the bride. This should be more your thing, anyway. I just gotta show up.”

I scoffed at his audacity then turned to storm out of the living room and into our bedroom. I dropped his clothes in the hamper then plopped myself flat on the bed.

My mama always told me that when a woman was preparing to get married, she had doubts about the decision she was making. She said that while men got cold feet, women were really the ones who were the most nervous. We were just more invested in going through with the union because we all wanted to experience the fantasy of walking down an aisle in white. That sounded a lot like me in that moment.

Carter strolled into the room soon after and stopped at the threshold, leaning his weight on the door’s panel. I balanced myself up on my elbows to look at him. He pulled his shirt up over his head to take it off, revealing his sculpted abs and arms rippled with muscles and etched with tattoos.

“What’s the matter baby?” he said in the sexy voice he always used when trying to get me in the mood.

“Uh-uh don’t even try that. You always do this whenever you know you’re wrong about something.”

He walked over and stood in front of me, nudging my legs apart with his knee. “So, you don’t want this dick right now is what you’re telling me.” He massaged the crotch of his pants before holding his bulge firm in his hand.

My eyes went right where he wanted them to go. “Nope.”

Carter dropped to his knees, parted my legs then showered my slim thighs with kisses. I moaned each time he pressed his soft lips against my skin. He paused for a moment to look up at me, flashing a grin then whispered, “liar.”

My man crawled on top of me and brushed his lips against mine, coaxing his tongue between them until I met my tongue with his. He kissed me deep while pushing me flat on my back.

Carter sexed me good that night like every other night we made love making my toes curl, having me bite my pillow, and scream my pleasure into his ear. He always blessed me with at least two orgasms before I drifted off to sleep and tonight was no different. He might not have been consistent with his aspiring music career or with our wedding planning, but at least I could count on him to make me come.

My girl Monique said Carter had me stupid and dickmatised.

She believed he was more of a distraction than a fiancé.

I hoped she was wrong.


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