···
Hell or High Water
°•.•°
"I have to go, Harvey," Donna says, and Harvey hears a faint knocking in the background on the other end of the line. "Thomas is here."
Did she have to rub it in? It's bad enough he knows she's dating Kessler, but to be reminded she's not spending the evening by herself—like he is—is nothing but a slap in the face.
"Ah, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to keep you." The lie feels sour on his tongue as he stares into the flames of his fireplace. He had hoped to talk to her all night, laughing and drinking. Just like they used to. But she has moved on, and that only worsens the bitter taste in his mouth.
Ever since Scottie insinuated as much, the thought of being with Donna has preoccupied his mind. But he's too late. She has found someone else, and he is but a bystander in her happiness, not a participant.
He hears her shuffle to the front door, the movement of air apparent over the line. "I'll see you tomorrow," he adds dismally.
"Night, Harvey," she quickly whispers, and then there's an unidentifiable rustling and the turning of a lock.
She must have slipped her phone in the pocket of her nightgown, and the image alone captures his imagination. If that's what she's wearing, she's probably not wearing much else. The silk fabric hugging her frame, sliding over her bare skin like—
He halts his thoughts. No good can come from heading down that road, and he's about to remove the device from his ear, ready to hit the big red button to end the call, when Thomas says, "Hey, beautiful."
The man's voice draws him in. At least Kessler isn't blind, he thinks.
"Hey, handsome," she replies with an audible smile, and he feels his stomach twist. He should hang up before this gets weird. But something keeps him listening. Oh, what he wouldn't give to have those words directed at him. Kessler sure is one lucky sonofabitch. Then there's more rustling, like fabric being rubbed over the microphone, and Donna moans softly, murmuring seductively about how thirsty her man is being, and Harvey hears two pairs of feet stumbling; the smacking of their kisses loud enough to reach through the airwaves.
"I missed you today," Thomas says. "I kept thinking about doing this."
A few quiet beats. Then the short silence is replaced by the sound of lips sucking on skin and Thomas growling possessively. Donna purrs in response, clearly loving the affection, and Harvey clutches his phone as a jolt of electricity shoots straight to his crotch.
"I missed you, too," she mewls, and he imagines how she's running her fingers through her boyfriend's hair while Thomas's mouth latches on to that spot just below her ear—the one he himself had sucked diligently, resulting in a very similar sounding reply.
Moments later, the spaciousness of the room changes, and Harvey deduces they must have reached her bedroom. He waits with bated breath, compelled to find out what will happen next—although he has a pretty good idea—yet torn between wishing to be a witness and not wanting to invade their privacy. But as long as he keeps silent, there's no way they'll know he's still on the line. And dammit, his selfish desire to live vicariously through Kessler wins in the end, especially when the metal cling of a zipper being undone and the woosh of a belt being removed fills the air.
Donna's breathy voice nearly kills him when she murmurs, "Eager boy," followed by a blooming silence. The quiet is broken only by the occasional choking sounds of Donna working Thomas' cock with her mouth, and the vivid memory of her plump red lips sucking him has Harvey grabbing for his erection.
"Do you like that?" she murmurs, her voice like silk in his ear.
Yes, goddammit. He's hard, growing harder by the second, and he should end the call, find some porn, and forget all about the ache in his chest to be the one to make Donna scream. Unfortunately, Thomas growls, "Come here. I won't last." More noises indicating movement follow as they must be repositioning.
The idea of Thomas crawling over Donna's naked body, her legs spread wide to accommodate his large frame, her nipples hard in the low light as her hair fans over her pillow, has Harvey close his eyes, thinking this is his chance to put an end to the insanity and stop eavesdropping.
Out of nowhere, he hears Donna's piercing wail cut through the air, and all the blood rushes to his dick in response. The sound of her singing from delight reverberates through his entire soul, ricocheting like a stray bullet that was never meant for him but still managed to lodge itself between his lungs, signaling his demise. And he knows he's a lost cause. So, he relents, putting the phone on speaker and undoing his pants to palm his burgeoning arousal.
The initial contact with his achingly wet head sends a shiver down his spine, already far more aroused than he had preferred to admit.
"You taste so good," he hears Thomas say, and he has half a mind to vocalize that she does. He too had spent a decent amount of time with his face buried between her glorious legs, getting to know every inch of her needy center, until she came against his mouth, pulling his hair and panting his name.
He pumps himself faster at the recollection as her abandoned moans fuel the fire in his groin.
"Thomas, stop," she pleads, and Harvey ceases his movements as well, listening intently for her next demand. "I want us to come together," she says, and he clenches his jaw. She'd said the exact same thing to him, and he shouldn't be surprised she would say it to someone else, yet it still feels like a betrayal. But the sentiment dissipates quickly when Donna cries out anew as Thomas starts fucking her wet pussy.
The sounds of their bodies colliding creates a hypnotic rhythm, and he uses the beat to thrust his hips into his palm, imagining it's Donna's dripping hot core he's driving into as she claws at his shoulders, whimpering into his ear, begging for more.
With each violent prayer he hears, he squeezes his eyes more tightly, palms himself more firmly and wishes for death to come for him, because he can't begin to think about how he'll face her tomorrow.
Soon enough, she cries, "Fuck, Thomas, I'm coming," and he wants to cry with her as his stomach tightens and his impending orgasm reaches a new level. Then she wails, sobs, as momentum builds, until she finally screams—exactly as he remembered—and he listens like his life depends on it. Right now it feels like it does, because he is teetering on the brink of sanity as he clutches his shirt in one hand and his dick in the other, pumping frantically.
The climax that washes over him blinds him momentarily, ridding him of all the guilt and shame he'd felt up to that point. But as soon as he's over the top and reality slowly returns, remorse floods his veins with a vengeance as he realizes what he has done.
Looking down at the white carnage spilled all over his shirt, stomach, and pants, he curses involuntarily. "Fuck!"
"What was that?" Thomas' muffled voice is like an ice bucket to his face, and a crippling panic winds around his heaving chest, He quickly disconnects the call, wishing he could build a time machine and travel back to twenty minutes ago when he should have ended the goddamn call and none of this would have happened. Shit. Had she heard him? Would she even care? Inside his hazy brain, he scrambles for possible scenarios, but his head feels too heavy for his neck, and he lets it lull backwards into the seat, spent from an orgasm unlike any he's ever experienced.
Then his phone buzzes, causing his heart to pound in his throat. A text. From Donna.
I hope you enjoyed yourself. We need to talk.
Dammit. If he didn't know her so well, he might miss the sarcasm dripping from her words; mistake them for flirting. But she's not playing coy. He's in trouble, big goddamn trouble. But he doesn't care anymore. He's already losing her as it is. If anything, a confrontation tomorrow might give him the opportunity to come clean about his feelings. After tonight, there's no doubt he wants to be the sole cause of her screams for the rest of her life, and it's about damn time she knows it, too.
A/N: this prompt, left as a comment on paulsenesque's 'Call for prompts' s/13517584/1/Call-for-prompts inspired me, and I have to go where inspiration takes me. So, to Guest, I hope you find this and like it. I know it's been done before but I couldn't help myself. Please let me know what you think. :)
