Page 14 of My Forbidden Boss

I laughed and took the stack from his arms.

Stepping through the threshold, I laid the bundle down and selected a dress on top. Changing into it, I considered how best to continue my tale.

“So… I know that I just presented this fantasy around bubble wrap, but let me tell you, that shit does get old after a while. The whole unpacking experience is like rummaging through a warzone. It slowly sets your teeth more and more on edge. Every single time you move around a bit, it is always answered by another burst of goddamn bubble wrap going off like a nest of machine-gun cover fire under your fucking feet. And the tape balls! Ugh! Don’t even get me started on the motherfucking tape balls. I’m going to buy a grill just so I can gather them all up and watch them melt.”

I emerged and started to show off the dress, but Brandon was too busy laughing, thanks to my mentioning a monster that he’d also encountered but hadn’t really considered in-depth as I had.

“The tape balls! I didn’t even realize how much I hated them until you said something!”

“Oh, I know! I’m going to wake up in the middle of the night, dreaming that I’m being chased down a cardboard corridor by a giant tape ball mutant… I’m really glad that you understand this. Apparently, there are two kinds of people in the world: those who know the true terror of tape ball tarantulas and those privileged enough remain in ignorance.”

He cackled, and I continued, ready to tell the world how intensely I had been abused.

“When those stupid fuckers aren’t busy getting stuck between your motherfucking feet… and it always happens right when you're already barely able to move. You’re stuck with this huge box of whatever propped in your arms, and you can’t see a goddamn thing because of it. You’re blindly trying to feel your way forward with your shins, which, of course, are already bruised to hell from doing this fucking nonsense all day. But what else are you going to do? Quit? Hell. Fucking. No! I did not get this far just to deal with a room full of the rest of these boxes that I’m too scared of or pissed off at to finish. Nope. And it’s not like I can just leave it the way it is… Were you over here when I had to move the coffee maker to my bathroom? I kept fucking hurting myself trying to get through the living room into the kitchen every morning. Fuck. That. Shit.”

Brandon was laughing to the point of tears but feigning aggression all the same. He shook his fist at some unseen ghoul atop the ceiling, gritting his teeth as he seethed, “Damn you, tape balls. Damn you all back to Hell from whence ye came.”

“Oh right, the motherfucking tape balls… those goddamn bastards. So, you tightrope walk your way through this tiny little gap between the boxes… all while you can’t see, right? Well, those little shits just start sticking to everything, including you. You’re stuck holding this goddamn box of… plates or books or fucking pillows. It doesn’t really matter what the fuck it is. They’re all either heavy as hell or so fucking big that I can’t fucking wrap my goddamn little arms around it to keep a hold on it.”

Brandon was rolling around, shaking with laughter.

“So, you have to kick yourself loose, which is a terrible fucking idea, by the way. It worked once for me. Just once. Every other time I just ended up with whatever box I was holding on top of my knee. I swear, I’ve spent half of my time in this town so far digging myself out from that cock-sucking canyon of motherfucking cardboard.”

I fought my own laughter back as Brandon’s howls filled the room.

“Oh, and when these sticky little bastards aren’t fucking latching onto your ankles, trying to bury you alive so that they can slowly cocoon you, the bastards are off attaching themselves to everything else.”

We laughed, losing our breath only to catch one another’s eye and fall back into uncontrolled heaves.

When we could breathe, our voices only offered more curses.

“Fucking tape balls!”

“Little goddamn tape ball demons.”

It was thirty minutes before either of us really regained any control over ourselves. Brandon was caught in a fit of hiccups, but he managed to speak through them, and, as soon as he did, I almost immediately was freed from my giggling seizure. Unfortunately, it was brought on by a sudden realization of self-consciousness.

“So… Tisha… Whatever happened when you said that you lost your mind a bit… swimming in the paper and, you know, just losing it.”

“Uh… What about it?”

I looked down at the dress we still had to discuss, wishing instantly that the conversation would veer back in that direction.

“What happened? Did you like… pass out in the pile of paper and wake up refreshed? Or did you eventually just calm down… or break down, I guess… Either way, how did that whole loopy scene finally end?”

I had nowhere to turn, but I was feeling exposed. I had no reason to lie to Brandon. Still, it also would’ve taken a considerable amount of confidence for me to just be totally comfortable sharing the answer to his question… the images from which were then dancing before my mind’s eye, making me blush a ruby red.

“How did it end? You know… It just kind of ended. I… uh… you see, I was feeling giddy and tired, exasperated but good. Um…”

His laughter died down as his gaze fell on me. My nervous embarrassment only escalated as I noticed him squinting, starting to see that something was going on. I tried to prevent it.

“Why don’t we, um… What do you think about this one?”

I twirled the dress back and forth but glanced back only to find Brandon eyeing me with suspicion.

“Tisha… How did your romp in the… Ohhh…”

His look of devious comprehension sent shivers of dread across my body. I kept twirling the dress, as if that had any chance of saving my embarrassment.

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