West Bound For Jordon

The Constellations Collide

     Orion West was running late for his first job of the day. His father owned a computer repair company and he had, more or less, been roped into working for his old man. It was fair to say that at times the work pissed him off. He despised having to find last-minute solutions to impossible problems that had been created by other people. He knew the language of computers, could speak to them with much greater ease than the humans he had to engage with daily. Orion firmly believed he had been born to be a loner.

     It wasn't as if he was a nerd. On the contrary, Orion West was a damn, fine-looking man and he knew it. Women had always told him so. His mother was forever trying in vain to set him up with the daughter of an acquaintance or the niece of a friend but he wanted no part of it. Orion had found the women he'd met to be un-stimulating and all the same. He needed someone who was as intelligent and willful as he was. He wanted to be challenged, not bowed down to.

     Orion cut an imposing figure of a man at nearly 6 foot three inches tall; he weighed in around 179 lbs of pure muscle. He worked out diligently every morning and evening and ate only healthy, organic food. Was he compulsive? Yes, most likely so but he didn't consider that a downfall. Was he vain of his appearance? Absolutely and positively yes, he was.

     Orion stood in front of the full-length mirror and scrutinized himself. Tomorrow he would turn twenty-eight. Nothing much to celebrate, just another mundane birthday. He reached for the navy-blue, long-sleeved, shirt and slipped it over his impressive physique, buttoning it up and leaving the top three undone for effect. He rolled up the sleeves and reached for his black, dress pants, pulling them up over his powerful legs and raising the zipper, careful not to catch the material of his silk boxers. It wouldn't do to start the day with sore balls. He tucked in the shirt and snapped the pants closed and then appraised himself once more.

     His black hair was thick with just a bit of a natural wave. It was cut in long layers that hung down to just past his collar, almost touching his shoulders. His bangs were always falling into his eyes but he liked them longer and refused to get his hair cut in a severe, short style. He hated those military-looking cuts. He'd always liked his hair longer. Gave the woman he was with something to pull on and he had to admit, that sensation drove him wild. His deep-set, dark, brown eyes peeked out from beneath those heavy bangs, framed by long, thick lashes that women seemed to go ape-s**t over. His cheekbones were high and his jaw-line sharp and chiseled. He always left a bit of a shadow of scruff on his face, shaving only every other day or so as he liked the way it made him look older.

     He puckered up his full, sensual mouth and blew a kiss to his reflection in the mirror, grinning like a devil at his pretty twin staring back at him. So certain of his physical beauty, so arrogant of his ability to seduce and yet so insecure with his own emotions. Completely unable to trust, to let go, to love someone other than himself. His father had accused him of being a narcissist. Perhaps the man had been correct.

     Orion leaned down and petted his cat, a proud Siamese named Cleopatra. The animal was beautiful and sleek, just like her owner. Orion always chose things of beauty to surround himself with. His apartment was furnished in an industrial, modern style. He was a minimalist at heart, believing that clutter leads to an absence of tranquility and balance. He was a master of yin versus yang. His sister, a well-known interior designer, had furnished his apartment for him. He loved it. It was his sanctuary from the world.

     He sat down on the side of his big, platform bed and slipped his feet into his black, leather, biker-boots. Not exactly dress clothes material but they looked good with his outfit and conveyed a sense of power when they thumped across the floor. Cleopatra purred against his leg and demanded attention.

     "Easy, princess, I can't be showing up at Harley and Dawson Incorporated, covered in cat hair now; can I my dear?" he asked her. She seemed completely uninterested in anything he had to say to her and continued to rub against him. Orion smiled and shook his head. She was a conceited b***h and he was an arrogant bastard, they were perfectly matched.

     The downtown traffic was brutal that morning and he was already behind schedule. Orion thrummed his fingers restlessly against the steering wheel and puffed impatiently on the cigarette balanced on his lower lip. He knew smoking was a filthy habit but he enjoyed it and he despised anyone telling him what to do.

     "f**k!" he hissed as the cab driver in the lane next to him swerved in front of him, cutting him off and narrowly missing a collision. Orion laid on the horn and swore a string of explicatives at the man who completely ignored him. The cappuccino in the cup holder had splashed out onto his dress pants, leaving a wet stain, not to mention the fact that it also scalded his thigh. Not that pain was much of a factor. Orion had found that he seemed to enjoy physical pain and the endorphins it released. It was almost an afterthought. That bastard had cut him off and no one did that to Orion West!

     He pulled up directly behind the cab at the next red light and threw open the door of his BMW, climbing out and tossing the cigarette away as he stomped up to the driver's side and hammered on the window with his fist.

     "What the f**k are you trying to do, you son of a b***h?" he shouted. "You almost caused a wreck! This ain't Mario Cart Racing!"

     The cab driver continued to ignore him and refused to even turn his direction. The light turned green and the cab drove off into the traffic, leaving him standing there in the intersection while the drivers behind his car began to honk and swear at him. He stormed back to his car, flipping the bird at the people behind him as he threw the car into gear and plowed through the intersection. Less than a block away he heard the siren and saw the flashing lights in his rearview mirror.

     "Well happy, f*****g birthday, Orion!" he cursed under his breath as he pulled over to the curb and reached for his wallet.

     Almost forty-five minutes later, he arrived at his destination. He'd been detained by the police officer while the man made a thorough check of his license, registration, and insurance information. It was obvious that the policeman wanted to delay him as long as he could, Orion's impatience making the situation all the more glorious for the cop. In the end, he had avoided getting a ticket by virtue of the fact that his father had sold the officer a laptop at a really good price only a month before. Small world wasn't it?

     He parked in the validated lot across the street from Harley and Dawson Incorporated and jaywalked through traffic to the revolving door that lead to the impressive, marble-tiled lobby. He'd never been here before and knew nothing about the clientele. Didn't matter, really, he would do his job, leave a bill and get the f**k out. He approached the receptionist and stood waiting to be acknowledged. When she continued to type on her computer as if he wasn't even there, his already annoyed and bruised ego went into the red.

     "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, ma'am, I'd appreciate it if you'd pull yourself away from your screen there and tell me how to find Jordan Harley's office?" he said sarcastically.

     The receptionist looked up and ran her eyes scrutinizingly over him, then lifted her black, horn-rimmed glasses and met his narrowed eyes.

     "Am I to assume you're the computer guy?" she asked.

     He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Yeah, I'm the computer guy," he answered.

     "You were supposed to be here an hour ago," she said and resumed typing away.

     "Got into some traffic," he replied.

     "Ms. Harley doesn't take kindly to having her time wasted. She waited for you to show up for thirty minutes, then left for a meeting. Her office is on the twenty-third floor. The secretary will take you to it. Elevators are over there…" she absently waved him away; dismissively, he thought, as he followed the direction she'd pointed in.

     The rubber heels of his boots made a dull but perceptive thump as he walked across the lobby. He didn't fail to notice that people seemed inclined to get the hell out of his way, probably influenced by the toxic expression on his face. Orion was not in the mood to be screwed with and he certainly wasn't looking forward to meeting this Ms. Harley. She sounded like the type of b***h that needed to be taken down a notch. Orion fancied that he might find himself being tossed out of there by security if he didn't adjust his frame of mind and quick. Damn shame that he had absolutely no intention of doing that.

     He pressed the elevator button much harder than he needed to and glanced around making sure no one else was waiting to go up. He wasn't inclined to share his elevator space with anyone. As luck would have it, he managed to score the ride up alone. Once the doors closed he leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. He could feel a migraine coming on and needed to get through this job and back to his apartment before the splitting pain crippled him for the rest of the day. He could take a Percocet and go back to sleep.

     He'd been to three different doctors and they had all told him the same thing. Stop drinking, stop smoking, reduce your stress and the headaches will go away. Well, f**k them all! He couldn't do any of those things. The cigarettes and alcohol helped him dull the stress. If he gave them up he'd have no buffer against it all. When the elevator doors opened, he was faced with yet another reception area. A sign hanging on the edge of the desk read "Harley Investments and Real Estate" and he knew he was in the right place. He stepped up to the secretary and forced a smile.

     "Hello, I'm Orion West. I'm with West Computers. I'm sorry I'm late, I was almost in an accident with a cab driver and was detained by the traffic and the police officer that stopped me for information."

     Orion watched the girl, much younger than the woman he'd encountered downstairs, as she looked up at him and blushed. Yes, caught by the charm. Play into it my sweet, fall for it, he thought as he shifted his hips and reached down to brace his hand against the edge of her desk. He looked directly into her eyes and flashed his million-watt grin.

     "Do you think anyone will mind?" he asked.

     "Oh… Ms. Harley… she gets rather… well, she doesn't like her schedule messed around with," the girl stammered.

     "So should I leave, then?" he asked, angling his body to show off his physique and keep the girl flustered.

     "No, please have a seat and I'll let her know you're here," she managed to say without stuttering.

     Orion grinned at her once more, then winked and sauntered over to the waiting area. He took a seat in one of the leather chairs and set his bag of tools down at his feet. He glanced around the reception area and was surprised that the décor seemed almost masculine to him. He'd not expected that from a woman's office. Oh well, maybe Jordan Harley wasn't the only Harley working there. Perhaps she was the wife or daughter of a Mr. Harley who ran the show. That was probably the case.

     The sound of a woman's high heels clicking against the hardwood floor drew his attention away from the modern art paintings on the walls and back to the reception desk. The secretary turned toward the hallway and stood up quickly.

     "Ms. Harley, the man is here from West Computers. He said he was detained in traffic…"

     Orion stood up just as quickly as the secretary had, trying to make at least a passable effort at being civil. He knew this company was one of his father's dedicated clients and he didn't want to piss off his old man by alienating this woman.

     Standing next to the secretary's desk was a petite, athletic-looking woman. She had long, curly, dark-brown hair that was partially pulled up on the sides with several tendrils hanging down around her face. She wore a black, sleeveless dress with a low-cut neckline that showed off her ample cleavage. Her shapely legs were bare of hose and she wore a very fetching pair of black, patent-leather, platform heels that had to be at least four inches. She had clear, creamy-looking, porcelain skin and large, green eyes. He couldn't help but notice her whiskey mouth and the small cupids-nose but her overall expression was severe and it was clear from the way she looked directly at him that not only was she pissed, but she was also a force to be reckoned with. Orion was smart enough to recognize it when he met a worthy adversary. The secretary, obviously wanting to defuse the situation, stood up and gestured toward him.

     "Ms. Harley, this is Orion West."

     Orion picked up his bag and walked over to the desk. He extended his hand to her and smiled. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Harley. I'm sorry I was detained. How can I help you?"

     He couldn't believe the almost sincere way he sounded. He really didn't want to f**k this up. His father would be livid if he lost Ms. Harley's business over this. Orion was almost afraid she wasn't going to take his proffered hand but after an uncomfortable moment of standing there with his hand out like an i***t, she reached for it and gave it a firm shake.

     "Mr. West, do you make a habit of wasting other peoples' time?" she asked coldly, her green eyes locked onto him.

     "No, ma'am. I'm usually on time. A series of unfortunate events delayed me this morning. I'm truly sorry for keeping you waiting. If you will show me to your office, I think I can fix the problem you're having with the files. My father informed me of your difficulties. It shouldn't be a major issue…"

     "Mr. West, it shouldn't have been a major issue but unfortunately it is. When I contacted your father yesterday, he assured me that you would be here at 8 am sharp. I needed those files for a meeting with my client. That meeting was thirty minutes ago. I had to cancel because you were late. I'm afraid this is now very much a major issue. I look like a fool when I have to cancel a meeting with an investor and I don't like to look like a fool, Mr. West."

     Orion felt his temper flare. He had to struggle to keep his composure. He felt naked under her hostile stare. She thought him beneath her and that made him want to strike out, hurt her. He gritted his teeth, stood up straight, and forced himself to be civil.

     "Again, Ms. Harley, I can only apologize. If I'd known I'd be so delayed this morning, I would have started out an hour earlier. If you will allow me to get to work, I can retrieve the files for you."

     She scrutinized him for a long moment more, then turned on her heels and snapped her fingers at him. "Come, boy, this way," she said in a tight, clipped voice.

     He stared at her retreating form with an incredulous look on his handsome face. Had she just snapped her fingers at him and called him a boy? The secretary was shifting about in her chair and seemed very uncomfortable. He bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood in his mouth and cringed at the pounding in his temples. This was going to suck and he'd best work quickly. He was fairly certain that one or the both of them, him or Mr. Harley, would end up going out the window if he was here very long.

     He followed her to a large, corner office with floor to ceiling windows. He felt instantly nauseous and turned his back to the dizzying view of the city. How could anyone like that? Ms. Harley gestured to a mahogany desk and the laptop sitting on it. "The files are in my hard drive. I trust your father made you aware of the specifics of the problem?" she asked.

     "Yes, ma'am. He told me you had saved them but were unable to open them again. Can you type in your password for me so I can get started?" he asked.

     She strutted past him, her perfume, Channel most likely from the scent of it, wafted over him as she made her way to the desk, her stride powerful, business-like. Oh those women like her were all the same. They were jealous they hadn't been born with a c**k. He despised her type. She pulled out the chair and sat down, typing away with a practiced efficiency as she powered up the laptop and entered her personal password. After a moment, she turned the laptop to face him.

     "Get started. I'm going to be in the office across the hall. Please be so kind as to inform me personally if you have any difficulties and when you are finished, Mr. West," she said curtly.

     "Yes, ma'am," he answered after her retreating form. 

     She closed the heavy, oak door behind her and Orion took a moment to look around. The only furniture in the room was the large desk and chair and two, black, leather chairs sitting in front of it. The carpet was a stark white and the two, beige walls were bare of adornment. He couldn't bring himself to face the view of the windows again and turned his back to them, sitting down in the comfortable chair with her laptop open before him.

     It only took Orion a few minutes to unlock the files and move them to a dedicated area on her laptop. He was getting ready to close out when he noticed a file marked confidential. He couldn't resist hacking into it for a look. He was overcome with curiosity about this woman who could both infuriate him and make him feel like a child all at the same time. He wondered how old she was, what sort of things she liked to do, and if she was married. He'd not noticed if she was wearing a wedding ring.

     It took mere moments to access that file and he opened it on the desktop. It was a series of video clips that had been compressed and sent from a remote computer to the laptop. Orion right-clicked on each one, sending the clips to his e-mail account. He would open them and see what sort of video clips warranted being stored in a file marked "confidential".

     When he was finished, he cleared the history and closed out of the system. He gathered up his things, stowed them in his leather bag, and headed across the room. He almost expected the door to be locked and grinned at the visual of himself yelling and pounding on the door. Of course, it wasn't locked, though and he let himself out, crossing the hall. He paused before knocking on the door of the adjacent office, stealing himself for the possibility of facing Ms. Harley again.

     Just as he was about to knock, the door jerked open and a tall, slender, young man with a wild shock of copper-hair that stood up all over his head walked right into Orion, knocking them both to the floor. Orion landed hard on his ass and received the weight of the lighter man on top of him, gasping in pain as the copper-haired fellow's elbow made direct contact with his exposed groin.

     "Oh, Christ, I'm so sorry!" the man cried as he rolled away, reaching for Orion's hand to help him stand. "Are you alright?"

     Orion could only breathe and grimace for a moment as he fought the urge to vomit and then pass out. Nothing like a direct blow to the private parts to make an already shitty day even shittier!

     "What the hell is going on out there, Lowell?" Ms. Harley's smoky voice called from inside the office.

     "I caused a bit of an accident, Ms. Harley. I think I might have injured this man," the copper-haired fellow answered.

     "What man?" she asked, the irritation in her voice obvious.

     Orion could feel the vibration of her hard footfalls as she crossed the office and stood staring down at him. He was about as close to blacking out as he'd ever been and wondered if his balls were about to explode. Why the hell not? It would make the scene absolutely picture perfect!

     "Lowell, what the hell did you do to him"? she asked.

     "I knocked him down and then we fell. I landed on top of him and I might have driven my elbow into his… Oh damn, I bet that smarts, doesn't it?" Lowell asked.

     Orion was unable to speak and when he tried to sit up his crotch throbbed in a very unpleasant way. He managed, with Lowell's help, to get partially upright, leaning against the thinner man as Lowell helped him into the office and lowered him to a soft, white, upholstered couch.

     "I'll get him some water," Lowell offered.

     "Just get out of here, Lowell," Ms. Harley ordered. "Take that folder to Mr. Dawson as I asked you to do, please and try not to injure anyone else on your way out!"

     Lowell rushed out the door, seeming relieved as he went, closing it behind him and leaving Orion at the mercy of Ms. Harley.

     "Do you need medical attention, Mr. West?" she asked.

     "I… not sure… f**k!" Orion managed to stutter as he tried to shift about on the couch. He wasn't sure how the hell he would ever be able to drive home.

     Ms. Harley walked over to the door of the office and locked it, then returned to him. She knelt down in front of him and reached for his shirt, pulling it quickly out of his pants, then began to unbuckle the belt. He watched her fascinated and wondering what the hell she was doing. Normally he would have at least asked but he couldn't find the voice to speak. She unsnapped and unzipped his pants and began to tug at them. 

     "Rise up!" she ordered and he found that he was unable to resist her commanding voice. 

     He struggled to lift his hips enough for her to slide his pants and boxers down to his ankles then settled back against the soft fabric, his face burning red with embarrassment and pain. She lifted the hem of his dress shirt and flipped it up, exposing him completely. He wanted to crawl into a hole and die but that was out of the question. He could feel her cool hands on him, pushing his knees apart and siding up toward his aching groin. The feeling of pain there began to change as the male in him woke up to the fact that a beautiful woman was kneeling between his spread legs.

     He looked down at her and his eyes strayed to her cleavage, the pout of her mouth, and the concerned look on her face as she examined him. The soft scent of her perfume drifting up to him as she moved. His c**k twitched and tried to wake up to the situation. He cursed his bad luck. His throbbing balls were not going to cooperate. He jumped in shocked surprise when she closed her hand around his half-hard c**k and lifted it gently up and out of her way.

     "Here, hold this up against your stomach," she said in that same, clipped tone as she reached out with her other hand and took his wrist, guiding his hand to his c**k. 

     He did as she asked, taking himself in hand and pressing his c**k flat against his stomach for her. She touched his balls carefully, squeezing them gently in her hands and rolling them between her fingers. He groaned as a mix of pain and keening pleasure swept over him and his fingers moved almost without his knowledge, tightening around his now, wide-awake, and firmly-hard c**k. He could feel her warm breath against his stomach, her cool hands touching him so intimately. He wanted to stretch out on the couch and let her work him over. He wanted to close his eyes and drift away into it, into her. What the f**k was happening to him?

     "Seems to be ok, Mr. West," she replied. "No permanent damage was done. Lay back on the couch. I'll have Sabrina bring you an ice pack. Pain should let up in a moment."

     He moved to do as she asked. It was as though she'd read his mind. He lay back on the couch, stretching out and trying to relax despite the fact that his pants were around his ankles. Ms. Harley lifted the phone receiver on the desk and he heard her conveying the request for an ice pack to the secretary. A moment later and the door opened just a crack and then closed again. He didn't bother looking up.

     He flinched when the cold ice pack, wrapped in a washcloth was laid over his groin. "You can let go of your c**k now, Mr. West."

     Orion felt the blush hot on his cheeks again as he released his hard prick and slid his hand down to the side. He hadn't even realized he was still holding it. There was no point in trying to hide the fact that he was hard. She'd already seen it of course but she hadn't mentioned it.

     "Rest here for a bit. When you feel like you can walk, just let yourself out. I suppose I should have warned you about Lowell. He is not the most coordinated individual."

     Orion turned his head to watch her walk out of the office. Just before the door closed, she glanced back at him, her face impassive.

     "Nice c**k," she said as she closed the door.