Date Night
Summary: In an effort to keep her relationship with Harvey a secret at the firm, Donna agrees to go on a date with Thomas Kessler.
Rated: M
AN: Happy birthday to the wonderful Yvonne! Thank you for two, three? (good thing you've never had to teach me maths haha) amazing years of wisdom and friendship! Love you to the moon and back ❤️❤️
...
"How about this?"
Donna whirls around from her closet, eyeing the grey sweater and pencil skirt Harvey is holding up. "I thought you said you were fine with me going tonight."
"I am," he protests, lowering the coathangers and tossing the garments on the bed. He isn't. Not one damn bit. But when Thomas Kessler's business hit a sinkhole, and the man threatened to walk, Donna just so happened to run into the entrepreneur as he was leaving the building. From what he's heard, she talked Kessler off a ledge, and he was grateful. Then two days later—twenty-four hours before his birthday—Alex, who has no idea he and Donna are dating, begged her to attend a dinner with Kessler to get him back on the firm's good side.
So, no, he's not over the goddamn moon.
His girlfriend is going out on a date with a highly esteemed bachelor who Louis is always fangirling over, while he's spending the evening alone, counting down the minutes until he turns one year older. But he's stuck between a rock and a hard place. If he admits he isn't fine with the arrangement, she's going to think he doesn't trust her. His only option is to keep trying to pretend to help, and he pulls out the most basic dress with the longest hem he can find. "This one." She shoots him a glare and he shrugs. "What? It's classy."
She steals the fabric out of his hand, placing it back in the closet. "It's something my grandmother would wear."
"Classy and timeless," he defends, wincing when her fingers skim over a figure hugging red dress. "No. Definitely not that one."
"Harvey." She turns around, fixing her palm on her hip with an exasperated sigh. "I told you. If this is going to bother you, I can cancel."
She could, but they both know she shouldn't. The firm needs Kessler's business, and he reluctantly takes a second look—picking out the Gucci dress she wore several Christmas parties ago. He can remember not being able to take his eyes off her that night. But the design is tasteful, showing just enough cleavage to stir the imagination, and he hands it over, giving in. "This one."
It's a beautiful dress, she'll give him that, but they need the evening to go perfectly, and she glances over it with a critical gaze. "Are you sure?"
"Trust me." In spite of his conflicting feelings, he manages a small smirk. "Wear that, and Kessler will be the one begging us to take him back."
Heat flushes her cheeks, the genuine compliment causing a warm tingle to flood through her body. They haven't been together long, only a few weeks, but the night his walls finally came down, all of his other guards fell too. Sometimes when he looks at her, she'll see adoration and complete devotion in his gaze. Other times it's pure lust. And the fact he remembers this dress on her at all makes her giddy with need. But what turns her on the most is how hard he's fighting his jealousy to prove he trusts her. Not a lot of boyfriends would make that sacrifice, but he isn't most men. She slings the hanger over her arm with a smile, tugging him closer by the lapels of his jacket. "You do know, you're the one who's going to get to take it off me later."
He relaxes slightly, his eyebrow hooking up at the suggestion. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She chuckles, reaching up to capture his lips with a slow kiss. If she could, she would gladly trade her night with Thomas to stay in with Harvey, but the firm needs this, and she regretfully pulls away from him with a sigh. "But right now, you need to go and let me get ready."
The air between them feels cold as she steps back and he knows it's futile inviting himself into her ensuite, but he still tries to sway her. "I could help you out in the shower? I'm pretty good in that department, too."
"You're an idiot." She slaps his arm, fighting a grin. "Go. I'll call you when we're finished."
Her body moves around him, her feet on a trajectory toward the bathroom, and he digs his hands into his pockets with a slow exhale, reminding himself there's nothing to worry about. She'll go to dinner, charm Kessler, and be back in his arms by midnight.
All he has to do is hold out until then.
...
...
Dinner went well, but ran late. Just finishing up.
Donna shoots off the text to Harvey, slipping the phone back into her pocket. She feels bad that it's so close to midnight, but Harvey swore to her he was fine spending the evening alone, and she faces Thomas with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry about that."
"Sorry about checking your phone once during the evening?" Thomas queries with an amused smirk. "You obviously don't hang out with teenagers very often."
They fall into step along the sidewalk as she prods for more information. "You do?"
He nods, slinging his hands into his pockets. "Thirteen-year-old niece. I'm not even sure Tahlia could pick my face out of a line-up."
She laughs, curling her fingers in her thick gloves. The conversation has been easy between them all night. They talked business, and she listened to his fears—how, as much as he likes Alex, the man doesn't have the same financial instincts as Louis. And she agreed. But she also pointed out that Alex stopped Thomas's company from going under, and when the lawyer realized his mistake, he proceeded with complete transparency and loyalty—two qualities Louis has, but not in the same abundance.
After giving Thomas fodder for thought, they connected on a more personal level, sharing things like their love of the theatre and laughing over ridiculous reality tv shows. She's had a good time—better than expected. But as the nearest taxi rank pulls into view, she motions to the line of cars. "I should be getting home."
"Or…" He makes a tentative suggestion, nodding his head further down the street. "I know a great place for dessert. It's not far."
She hesitates, not sure how far to push the boundaries of their 'date'. Skirting around casually flirting is one thing. For the most part, they've both kept a clear professional line. But they've also had quite a few glasses of wine, and she doesn't want her intentions to get blurred. "We probably shouldn't."
"Because of the boyfriend?" he guesses, smiling down at her. When Alex suggested the dinner as a peace offering, he'll admit, he was hopeful something might develop with the vibrant redhead. He was completely floored by her when she caught him by lifts at Specter Litt. All it took was a once-over by her insightful gaze and she read his anger, told him it was probably even justified, but that if he left, every other high-profile firm would lick his wounds like he was a wounded puppy, promising him the world, and giving little in return. She'd tapped into his values, which speak highly to loyalty, and she did the same thing tonight—leaving with him a lot to think about.
But as soon as they stopped talking about work, he'd noticed a shift, how she drew a careful line around having fun but not crossing lines. There's no ring on her finger, and he genuinely doubts Alex would have initiated the dinner as just a business orchestration, which leads him to only one other conclusion. "Let me guess, it's new and you haven't told anyone yet?"
She blushes, wondering how a stranger can see something she and Harvey have managed to keep hidden from the rest of the world. "When did you know?"
He shrugs, smirking at her. "Somewhere between the Balsamic-Glazed steak rolls and our third glass of wine."
She's impressed, but also a little embarrassed, and she ducks her head sheepishly. "I'm sorry. I hope you don't think—"
"Donna, relax." He's not mad. How could he be? He's been a fool for worse, and she didn't do anything wrong."I got to spend the evening in the company of an intelligent and beautiful, business savvy COO, who also happens to love Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. So…" He digs his hands out of his pockets and lifts them in a gesture of surrender. "I can take you to the most amazing dessert bar in town, as friends, or we can call it a night. Your call."
She glances at the cab, then down the street. Her phone hasn't vibrated, meaning Harvey's probably in bed. And she is having fun. But Harvey falling asleep without her, especially when it's technically his birthday, leaves her craving his touch. Maybe if she'd met Thomas before she and Harvey got together, things would be different. But she reaches out to squeeze his arm, flushing at his defined muscles. "Raincheck?" She drops her hand, shaking some entirely inappropriate thoughts that include Harvey from her head. She only needs one man tonight and is eager to get home to him.
"You have my number." He steps toward the cab, getting the door for her, unashamed as he commits the dress she's wearing to memory. "And for the record, I hope this guy knows just how lucky he is."
She climbs into the car with a smile. "He's about to find out."
…
…
"Happy birthday."
Harvey shudders awake, confused by the warm voice in ears and the icy hands on his hip, and he murmurs groggily in his sleepy state. "My birthday isn't until tomorrow."
"Wrong. It's after midnight."
He knows that, because when he got her message just before the minutes ticked over, he figured she wasn't coming over and sulked off to bed.
She pulls her lip between her teeth, debating whether to let him go back to sleep. He'll probably be less cranky in the morning, but she gives her prowess one last shot as she kneels up on the mattress. "I guess I'll just have to take this dress off all by myself."
His groin twitches as the sound of her zipper sliding down ricochets through the darkness. "Stop." He rolls over, catching her mid-way through undressing, and he motions to the bedside table. "Turn on the light."
She fights a smirk as she reaches behind her, illuminating her body with a soft glow.
He hesitates, conflicted by the fire thrumming through him. He was annoyed when she didn't text earlier, his worst fears playing out like they were being projected onto a screen in his mind. All night he's been imagining her laughing and having fun, probably blushing at all the compliments Thomas threw her way. And when midnight ticked past, his insecurities took hold, sending him straight to bed. But she's here now—hand clutching the fabric that used to hide a mystery. But he's explored every inch of her body, let his tongue lavish all her freckles and curves, and those are the images he wants swirling through his head.
"Slowly," he orders, his eyes glued to her delicate movements. The material pools at her knees on the mattress, leaving her in a lacy bra and panties, and his hand twitches, but he resits the urge to reach out. "Turn around."
She shifts, throwing a sultry gaze over her shoulder.
"Stay like that." He lifts his t-shirt over his head, tossing it aside as he moves, pressing himself against her back. Her skin is cold, and he trails his palm along her goose bumps, cupping her breast and kneading it gently. "Did you have fun tonight?"
His voice husks the question demandingly, and she answers honestly. "Yes."
He pinches her nipple, and she swallows a yelp, the sound turning into a moan as he switches hands, squeezing her other breast.
"Did he flirt with you?"
She bites her lip, then nods, jolted by another small wave of pain which shoots heat straight to her core. He pulls away, his fingers delicately stroking her hair, while his other palm teases the inside of her thigh.
"Did you flirt back?" The low growl is barely a whisper, and he continues his gentle ministrations, waiting patiently for her response.
Her pulse skips as she breathes out a shaky breath. "It was harmless." His grip tightens, tugging her silky strands, and she whimpers as his teeth nip her neck. He soothes the sting with a tender kiss, his palm skating higher to stroke her panties., and she squirms, trying to create more friction between her legs, but doesn't allow it. Instead, he releases her hair, removing his hands altogether.
She sighs, then gasps as he roughly pins her wrists behind her back. The strain through her shoulders is tight, and she pushes her chest out, brushing the swollen bulge in his pants. But he lifts her fingertips, denying her access.
"Did you think about me?"
Her core throbs with anticipation. She wants to lie, just to see what he'll do, but she did think about him. The truth is he's been on her mind almost constantly for twelve years, and she bites her lip with a small nod. "Yes."
He doesn't move, and she fidgets with a groan, causing him to smirk as he takes her wrists in one hand and skims his other up along the curve of her spine—splaying his fingers gently around the column of her throat. Her pulse quickens, and he grins smugly against her ear. "Are you enjoying this a little too much?"
She shakes her head, punished with a firm squeeze and then rewarded by his thumb sliding down between her soaked folds.
"Liar," he teases, circling her clit until she's moaning pleas and bucking against him. "Is it me you want?"
She nearly screams in frustration when he stops, and she gasps out a desperate pant. "You know it is." The strain between her shoulders suddenly disappears, and she lands on her back, the mattress bouncing as she meets his smiling gaze. She needs him now, but her own eyes light up with amusement and she tugs off his shorts. "Enjoying yourself? His answer is a bruising kiss, and she groans as her fingers wrap around his hardness, pumping him with eager strokes.
He jerks, nipping her lip in warning as he clasps her wrist, pinning it down and removing her underwear. She's right, he has been enjoying himself, but he's through playing games, and he sinks inside her, kissing her again. Her heel digs into his thigh, pushing him in deeper, and he breaks for air as he thrusts faster.
She raises her hips in perfect sync, drowning in the ecstasy of his weight on top of her. He's always been the jealous type, but she knows he trusts her, and she isn't complaining—pinching her palms with her nails as he drives her into a state of happy delirium. Then she lets go, spasming around his guttural cry that muffles into her clammy skin.
He crushes her with slack muscles and smiles stupidly as he rolls onto his side.
She turns with him; her face warm and glowing. "I think we should start telling people we're together."
Surprise wipes the smugness from his expression, but his mouth stays fixed in a grin. "You sure?"
She nods, smiling at him. "Thomas knew I was seeing someone. He could see how happy you make me, and I don't want to hide that around anyone else."
Warm relief swells in his chest, his entire body tingling as he wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her closer. Deep down, he knew he had no reason to worry about her dinner with Kessler. But hearing she didn't play up being single for the night definitely gives his ego a boost. "I almost feel sorry for the guy."
She hooks up an amused eyebrow. "No, you don't."
He chuckles. "You're right, I don't." He has nothing against Kessler, but he's extremely happy that once they start telling people they're seeing each other, she won't be coerced into accepting any more dates unless they're with him. "It did bother me." He doesn't expect her to be surprised by the revelation, and her coy smile suggests she isn't, but he's not finished. "Because you make me happy, too. And I don't want to hide that, either."
His fingers fan through her hair as he holds her close. He's never felt this way around anyone before, and he's joked, muffled the sentiment over coffee or late at night when they're both spent and drifting off to sleep. But this time he wants her to hear it clearly. "I love you."
Her heart skips as the words leave his mouth. Since getting together she hasn't doubted how he feels, but hearing him say it sincerely, marks another new milestone in their relationship, and she snuggles deeper into his chest.
From now on she won't be missing any of his penultimate birthdays.