Shelter in Place: Quarantine Romance Collection Includes New Novella

by Jamie Knight

  “You laugh,” Mahira went on, knowing she’d found a topic that tickled Tory in the midst of all the wonder and madness they currently inhabited together, “but butt sex can make you climax deeply if it’s hit at the right angle for long enough, trust me.”

  “I’m not really opposed to any beyond vanilla fun. For the right man, I’d do almost anything. And I do believe vanilla can be very exotic in the right context,” Tory managed to say, calming down as she braved her intention and realized it all at once.

  She had never done very much that was sexual, at all. But she had imagined doing plenty. And now she had someone very specific in mind to do it with – Harlan Dawes. Yes, he was technically her boss now, and she knew she really shouldn’t go there with him. But she was drawn to him and knew she would do anything he asked her to do.

  She only hoped that he would ask.

  Chapter 13

  Harlan worked out in the gym until a point just short of physical exhaustion. In making certain each rep performed with each muscle was never less than a hundred pounds, his workout was not terribly long but gave him the kind of definition and stature he never had in younger years.

  He waved his hand over a sensor and a door near the restrooms and changing area slid open to reveal a modern spa room with multi shower heads lining the walls. Harlan ordered a number six, then slipped out of his swimsuit and sandals, entered, and the door slid shut again and sealed with a hiss.

  The warm water on his muscles left him feeling soothed, relaxed and woozy.

  “Dry, please,” he commanded, and jets of warm air whipped past his body in a numbing embrace of warm air and white noise.

  He slipped on his swimsuit and a fluffy velour robe from a locker nearby and drifted out into the corridor. Then he paused, wondering if he was dreaming as he gazed towards the huge window out onto the city’s night.

  Tory’s hair was a wild cascade of gold and light falling over her bare shoulders as she stood enrapt with the view. Taking a few more quiet steps towards her, Harlan realized that she wasn’t standing there in a pair of tight jeans and a bra but that instead it was her bikini top. Her arms were raised high, stretched out as if to somehow capture the city and all its promises at once.

  In fascination, he ventured closer, noticing his reflection was there for her to see the entire time he approached, sending an irrational surge of adrenaline into his system. There was no way to hide what Harlan felt Tory had glimpsed and no reasons to hide anything, in knowing she was aware of his approach. They said nothing with words yet plenty in gesture.

  Harlan considered himself a hip reader, registering every thrust and swivel, the arch of a woman’s back that raised her tailbone to tempt and tantalize. He could feel his erection become a reality, straining against the snug fabric of his swimsuit, rising to meet nature’s highest drama and answer a poignant invitation made on a purely biological level.

  With their bodies in conversation already, no preliminaries were needed.

  “Don’t take your hands off the glass,” Harlan ordered sternly.

  She turned to him for the first time. Tory’ lips parted, opening her mouth as softly as a bud opened for sunlight. Their eyes locked for a part of a second that eclipsed all else and felt as if it would never end.

  “You have an amazing body,” he told her. “I love your curves.”

  “So do you,” she said. “I had been imagining what you might look like, under your suit. And when I was able to do so, I realized it was even better than what I had been thinking.”

  “So, you’ve been thinking about me, have you?” he asked.

  “I have, Sir.”

  “Good. Because I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

  Contact came all at once as lips softly crushed upon each other, Harlan’s left hand flat on Tory’s smooth belly, the soft curves of her body in denim pressed to the hardness in his swimsuit, his brawny right arm across her bare skin, hand sliding under the bikini top, his fingertips brushing the soft perimeters of her nipple. She pressed her body into his, granting him more.

  Both of his hands were on her breasts, smooth and then firmly squeezing, unable to take them completely in both hands but driving her to moan in desire. Harlan began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. When Tory reached to assist him, he brushed her hand away.

  “Don’t move,” Harlan whispered, as he went down on one knee and peeled her jeans down to her thighs, while rubbing his unshaven face in the fuzz over her tailbone, both hands smoothly exploring her thighs as he kissed and tongued along the fabric of her black thong.

  Tory’s breath became gasps as Harlan firmly grasped her hips and pushed his tongue in beyond her thong. After basking in her moans of pleasure, high on her scent and wetness, Harlan needed more.

  Slipping out of his robe and swimsuits he took hold of her again, her hands still pressed against the glass and night sky. Harlan’s huge hard-on found its way between her thighs, her body seeming to melt upon his as she turned to kiss him again.

  Harlan’s fingertips slowly and softly sought the tiny rising node of her pleasure as his longer middle finger sought entry into her tight, wet pussy hole. Then he noticed the unfamiliar in this young woman whose heart now pounded violently behind her breasts.

  “A virgin,” he said to himself, almost certain he had gained another inch while slowly and forcefully rubbing the length of his engorged member between her legs, his middle finger on her again, swirling its slow magic.

  “That’s a good girl,” he said, continuing to make her feel good. “Just give in and let your body be free for me. I know how to take good care of you and your wet little virgin pussy. Cum for me, Tory.”

  Obediently, her first orgasm with him began, her body clapping down on the tumescent huge stiffness threatening to break and burrow and sate itself within her. Tory’s moan’s lengthened and rose in pitch until becoming the siren call to Harlan’s own teeth grinding exaltation that went on and Tory’s body let go in a freefall of pleasure.

  “That’s right,” he said, in a near growl. “Cum for your boss. I know how to treat your right.”

  Still hard, Harlan took advantage of Tory’s wetness. With kisses and a firm hand over her ass, another twisting her left nipple short of viciously, he opened and entered her as she gasped and trembled. Harlan couldn’t resist bunching her golden locks in his fist and pressing himself as deeply as possible inside her tight pussy, then holding it there as long as possible before he began thrusting.

  “Do you like how my big cock feels in your little pussy?” he asked her.

  “Yes, sir,” she moaned. “I love it.”

  “I love cramming your little pussy full. I’m stuffed so deep inside you.”

  He felt himself throbbing and pulsing as her pussy walls gripped his dick tightly. Then he pounded hard and fast while she moaned out his name.

  “Harlan. Harlan. Harlan.”

  The flesh slapping unified efforts of their bodies to find orgasm again held them both until Tory’s next orgasm delivered them both to blissful satisfaction.

  He pulled out his cock just quickly enough to cum on her gorgeous, curvy ass cheeks.

  “Fuck yeah,” he groaned, as he emptied himself onto her pale skin. “You made me cum so much. Good girl, Tory.”

  That had been the best lovemaking he’d done in a long time. If he truly admitted it to himself, it was probably the best ever.

  Moments later, Tory lay on the crumble of her jeans, marveling at how amazing he had made her feel. Harlan smiled at her and kissed her one more time before giving her the robe.

  “There’s a great shower down here,” Harlan told her. “Come try it out.”

  In silence, they stood before the hot jets of water, trading smiles, and looking at each other nude in the steam.

  “I want to show you something. My favorite spot to sit and watch this city,” Harlan said as they dried off.

  The elevator opened to Harlan’s lounge on the top floor. As Tory walked down th
e steep steps, she gazed out at Harlan’s view of the city.

  “It’s amazing,” she said.

  “Yeah, but wait until you go outside,” he told her. “Sit down for a minute.”

  Harlan went to his kitchenette and began to look for something.

  “I know Spring is coming. But a little hot chocolate is great up here where it can get windy at night.”

  He microwaved skim milk and stirred small bars of chocolate in the hot milk, then put them back in the microwave.

  “C’mon. That will take a couple minutes,” he said.

  Outside in the breeze, they walked with the glowing panorama of the city around them. Near the building’s modern helipad, a shaded table and chairs were set up to overlook the Avenues.

  “This is where I like to come to get away from the studio for a bit or have my breakfast if I’ve spent the night here. Sit down. I’ll go get our cocoa.”

  Inside, Harlan put the hot mugs on a tray. About to go back out, he paused and put the tray down.

  Standing at his monitor, he commanded the AI to pull up the security cameras downstairs in the corridor, recreation center and gym. He backed it up to see the last hour.

  “Erase last hour’s footage from cameras 4, 6 and 8,” he ordered, taking up the tray and stepping outside.

  Now everything was perfect.

  Except that he never wanted Tory to leave.

  Chapter 14

  Mahira walked into the cafeteria and took off her mask.

  “There you are,” she said to Tory. “I looked for you last night, where were you?”

  “Don’t really know if I should say,” Tory answered, as if thinking aloud, then smiled slyly.

  “You didn’t!” Mahira gasped excitedly.

  “I really don’t know if I should say.”

  “You really do have to say. And where are your glasses?” Mahira asked.

  “Must be in my room, maybe.”

  “So, tell me all about it,” Mahira insisted.

  “I just... It just happened to us,” Tory explained dreamily.

  “But how do you feel?”

  “About?” Tory asked, confused.

  “Do you think you were momentary entertainment for a bored, trapped billionaire or that there is something more to it?” Mahira asked, a grave tone to her voice which made Tory wonder if she was jealous to some extent.

  “I’m not sure. It felt like something was there but maybe it was just in my imagination. We didn’t speak a great deal but really connected afterward,” Tory said and watched Mahira’s face reflect the fact that she was thinking, as if small gears were turning in her brain, making lights come on in her eyes as new ideas appeared to her.

  “So, when Mr. Dawes likes your idea better than anyone else's…” Mahira began.

  “I don’t really have an idea. I mean, not specifically, anyway.”

  “They shot me down already. I know when I’m merely colorful window dressing.”

  Tory just sighed. She didn’t know how to comfort Mahira and she felt bad about causing her any distress. But she felt really, really great about what had happened between Harlan and herself, and she didn’t want anything to ruin that.

  ***

  Ms. Kalinski’s heels exploded into the design studio, her skintight black on black ensemble coupled with the mask and gloves making Tori wonder what she did in her spare time.

  Taking up a position at an unused workstation, she appeared via Zoom on each person’s desktop as well as the big monitor on the far wall. She took off her mask, giving them a look at her goth black lipstick, probably on purpose, Tory mused.

  “We now have our COVID-19 test kits. A specialist is scheduled to join us this afternoon. I’m sending you each a memo that has the info that came with the kits regarding its use, effectiveness, and recommendations.”

  A tone interrupted Ms. Kalinski as a window opened up in the corner of the screen, with Harlan inside it. Tory’s heart jumped and her panties dampened.

  “Does that go for me as well?” Harlan asked.

  “You can have your test administered anywhere you’d like, Mr. Dawes,” Ms. Kalinski gushed.

  “I just want to get mine done when theirs is done. That way we can sit in the conference room and really hash this thing out,” Harlan explained. “Team, I have asked Mr. Linder to sit this one out for various reasons. I’m going to work with you to see if we can find that spark of something new to give the iGo Icon and help NextThing.Net meet its deadline.”

  “Provided everyone’s results is negative, of course,” Ms. Kalinski reminded him.

  “Of course,” Harlan conceded. “In the meantime, let’s all focus our energies on the icon. Carpe Diem, people. Carpe Diem.”

  His window shrunk to a pinpoint of light and disappeared.

  Tory let out a sigh, trying not to be too obvious about her disappointment that he was gone and that she wasn’t sure when she should next see him.

  ***

  That afternoon, Tory followed Ms. Kalinski into the conference room and took a seat near Dan, who sat smiling quietly when Tori entered.

  “I see you passed with flying colors,” Dan kidded her as she sat down.

  The test had been quite uncomfortable and despite the time that elapsed, her eyes still teared up and her nostril felt a little sore.

  Mahira came in and sat down heavily.

  “I am not really enjoying this part. Don’t know how you can begin to concentrate on anything after that,” she complained.

  “I feel a little relieved,” Dan said, “I was honestly worried for a number of days.”

  “I’m glad to have something real to focus on other than the death toll and what we’re all going to do afterwards. The economy is due to be dealt quite a blow if the quarantine carries on. The landscape is shifting beneath our feet as we speak,” Mahira said.

  The door opened again, and Harlan came in with a tray of coffee and pastry from the cafeteria. Tory was so glad to see him again.

  “I put this together myself. I just want you all to know how happy I am that we

  can work like this, as long as quarantine is maintained,” he said.

  The original slideshow of images composed of Trace Linder’s concepts of the iGo Icon history played on the monitor behind Harlan as he sat down to get out of the way.

  “I really like what Trace tried to conserve in his concepts. It’s just that they all give me a feeling that I’m just looking at any other current icon that iGo has in use. Not newer, better or faster.”

  “This is why I suggest a completely outlandish, super different color while maintaining all the other recognizable graphic shapes,” Mahira said, affirming her initial impression.

  Everyone waited for her to continue, so she did.

  “There was once a job, I forget the client. He spoke about radically different ideas. He wanted a black icon with black and off black graphics, you may know who I’m talking about. He’s got that whole hipster Kerouac thing going. I gave him his edgy app icon. I was into it. Did my best. His user demographics killed it. Older people, they couldn’t handle it. If they had a dark home screen background, forget about it. For these reasons, I wouldn’t suggest black on black. Ever.”

  “Aren’t we all, you know, after yesterday, aren’t we all set on the idea that the three colors in the original icon are so strongly associated with the company’s brand that we’re to keep ‘em?” Dan said, carefully.

  “Trace has come up with some truly clever variations on the original, retaining those three colors and using them in different proportions to one another, giving one or two transparency even, but they all seem more a variation than anything truly new or exciting,” Harlan said.

  “What I was saying before, I still believe. I think you need to keep the colors. Just present them differently,” Tory said.

  “That is really what Trace has been doing,” Harlen said gently.

  “No, no, no. He presents the colors the same way, just in different shapes,” To
ry clarified.

  “What do you mean?” Harlan asked, his brows arched in interest.

  “Perception is hazy. No, not hazy, I mean fluid, right? World in motion. What our eyes see registers in our minds even when the images or colors are glimpsed for an instant. You don’t see or really look for the Cobalt blue E of Explorer, just that splotch of color,” Tory suggested.

  She rose from her seat to approach the screen as Trace Linder’s concepts faded from one to the next.

  “What if instead of altering the graphics significantly, then adding the colors in these separate little fields on the globe layer, the three significant hues are a nebulous presence, a blurred intersection of color, the way they are represented when you’re asked to choose a color in a program, or if you could make a gradient of the three colors?” she asked.

  The conference room was silent. Harlan’s mouth hung open a moment before he was ready to say anything.

  “A gradient. A gradient,” he repeated, clearly thinking.

  “Yes. A gradient,” Tory affirmed.

  “Let’s take a break, gang. We’ll meet back here in a couple of hours,” Harlan said, looking at Tory as Mahira quickly got up and left the room.

  ***

  Upstairs in his office, Harlan played with differing gradient fills until he found one he thought was representative of the brand’s colors by proportion.

  He played around superimposing a transparent graphic layer of the Icon on top of the gradient and moving it about.

  The idea seemed vital. It was new. It was out of left field and he loved it.

  Excited, he paced the floor, hoping that he wasn’t being overly enthusiastic about Tory’s idea because of how great he felt just to be in the room with her.