Donna gets up, taking a breath and adjusting her skirt. She might not have made this choice if Mike hadn't been arrested but there's no denying that it was the right choice. They just fit, Harvey and her, and no matter how much she needed the time apart, how right and justified she was in leaving, there's something about coming back that will always feel like home.
"See you tomorrow," she leans into him a little, trying to control the giddiness in her voice at the fact that he's coming back and they'll get to be the same Harvey and Donna as always, as she walks by him on her way to the door.
Except Harvey reaches out, taking hold of her wrist. His gaze shines just a tiny bit more than usual in the golden light of the fireplace when he looks deep into her eyes.
"Thank you," he whispers, voice heavy and earnest and almost all oxygen.
She gives him a small smile and nods minutely, letting him know it's okay, she understands what this means to him and she's happy to do it.
But he doesn't let go of her wrist. He keeps watching her, swallows, and the seconds start to tick beyond what a regular touch should last. Her heartbeat picks up, skin tingling where his fingers are wrapped, as she waits for him to say or do something. He's frozen in place, not even blinking, and she notices his own breathing starts to get more erratic but still, nothing comes out.
"Harvey...," she whispers, afraid to say anything more because she doesn't know if she wants him to let her go or not.
"We don't work together," he finally blurts out quietly.
The words are unexpected and unclear and she frowns a little in confusion.
"Right now - tonight - we don't work together," he repeats, a bit more purposefully, and this time his meaning dawns on her. Her eyes widen at his suggestion, taken completely by surprise by his relative straightforwardness. She has no clue what brought this on, what could have led him to admit he wants this after so many years of denying it. But her heart is still bruised, still mending from the pain he put it through, and as much as she may want to say yes and throw caution to the wind, she can't in good conscience follow his recklessness.
So she blinks and tells him, "We can't," though her voice is clearly remorseful.
"Donna," Harvey breathes out, his fingers readjusting to get a better hold of her wrist. "I spent months not having you by my side and it was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. And tomorrow we're going back and we're entering what might be the fight of our lives to make sure Mike doesn't go to jail and Jessica doesn't lose the firm. We won't get another chance like this. Let's take it." He looks strangely hopeful, like this isn't some harebrained idea or the quickest way to their demise. Like this is actually what he wants.
His words sound lovely, like a dream, but fear grips her stomach like a vise. She's let herself hope before. She can't do it again just to have him slam the door shut.
"And then what?" she asks, shaking her head a little bit.
She expects him to say they'll put it out of their minds and never mention it again like they always do. Instead, he says, "And then... we talk."
"We talk?" she repeats dumbly, completely stupefied.
"We talk. Nothing can happen now, we can't afford the distraction, but when this is over, when Mike's off the hook and Jessica's in charge again, we talk." He sounds completely sure and her eyes prick at his determination, something she's never seen from him, not towards this, not towards her.
"No running?" she says uncertainly, needing more reassurance.
"No running," he confirms as his thumb swipes her forearm.
She searches his eyes, tries to find even the smallest inch of doubt or lust, tries to find anything that might convince her that this is a trick or a bluff or a flat-out lie, but all she finds is truth. He wants this, not just tonight but beyond that.
Her heart speeds up even more and she thinks she's going insane, because she can't find any reason not to do this, not one single reservation. She left because she loves him, not because she doesn't, and staying away hasn't made it any less true. And she misses him, his words and his laugh and, right now, she achingly misses his body on hers. Her eyes slip down his face towards his lips, concentrate on the way his tongue peeks out between them to wet them slightly. Her own tongue does the same and she feels his hand sliding down her wrist to take her own hand.
They're already very close but he turns a little to face her more properly, taking a tiny step towards her as she continues to stare at his lips, transfixed. He leans in, slowly, pausing along the way to give her ample room to run, but it's like he said. No running.
Finally he's close enough that she feels his hot breath on her lips, and she closes her eyes in anticipation right before Harvey finishes closing the gap between them and brushes her lips with his. It's a brief contact, just testing the waters, but heat surges through her, craving more but afraid to take the lead.
He presses his lips against hers again, slightly more firmly but still chastely, and he's panting a little, which leads her to think he's just as terrified as her.
Donna tilts her head towards him when he leans in again, catching his lips more fully, and this kiss is full of intent and promise. And then they're like wildfire scorching a wheat field and spreading quickly. In one second she's gasping against him as their mouths open so they can taste each other, sharing the smoky bitterness of the whisky she just had. His hands find her waist as hers wrap around his neck and he pulls her in, slamming their bodies together as his tongue roams her mouth.
She's surprised to find no hesitation on her part whatsoever. She's always been so cautious, so in control, but Harvey makes her throw it all away and be as daring as he is.
She'd forgotten his taste, and she supposes that's understandable after so many years between the last time she kissed him and this, but she vows to commit his taste to memory this time round, no longer willing to pretend like this is a random one-night stand, like this isn't everything.
He hums as his body arches over hers, making her feel tiny and fragile in his strong arms. They part for air and he trails down to her jaw, sucking on the junction of it with her neck, going all the way up to her earlobe. He tugs on it with his teeth and a shiver runs down her spine as she notices he remembers she likes that. His teeth scrape the sensitive skin behind her ear and her breath hitches in her throat, hands running down his back to frame his ass and pull his hips into hers, feeling the beginning of his erection press into her center. She rubs herself against him, panting in his ear, and his hands find her ass and knead, holding her to him as he matches her moves.
She pulls her head back, finding his eyes, and they're pitch black, deep with desire, and she suspects hers are the same. She kisses him again and her hands move to his fly, opening it deftly as she begins walking backwards towards his bedroom. He follows her lead, palm sliding up the slit of her skirt, and her mind is reeling from what is happening, barely able to comprehend she's about to sleep with Harvey again after so long and they won't just pretend it never happened.
She cups him through his briefs and finds him fully hard, straining against the confines of his pants. They get rid of his jacket, vest and tie, her hands feeling the heat of his body through his shirt. He goes back to her neck, sucking and licking in earnest, and her body thrums beneath his touch. She pants his name as his fingers fumble to unzip her dress, and from then on it's all a blur. They finish stripping each other naked and he lays down, pulling her over him.
They take their time reacquainting themselves with each other's body, kissing and tasting stretches of skin that spent the past twelve years hidden. She covers his body from head to toes with hers, sucking on his pulse point, kissing a trail down his stomach. She teases the tip of his cock, running it over her lips lightly, flitting her tongue over his slit. He runs his middle finger between her folds, eliciting a moan out of her. They go slow, almost lazily, because they only get one night to carry them through the foreseeable future and they want to make it last.
She slides him between her folds, increasing pressure until they're both panting and he whispers her name.
When she finally slides down onto him, slowly so her body can accommodate around him, she groans, her head falling back in pleasure. She stills for a moment and his hands cup her breasts, kneading them, thumbing her nipples, and she moans again. Her hands brace on his thighs and she begins to move, keeping a controlled rhythm to let them build their want.
Their pants echo in his room as his hands slide to her hips, pulling her down more forcefully until she's bouncing on his lap, her breasts following the movement wildly. She looks down to find him with a sheen of sweat on his forehead, biting his bottom lip as he watches her, hips thrusting into hers. It feels like they've been doing this forever, at the same time as it feels like it's the first time she's ever felt anything like this.
He pulls her down, catching her breast between his lips and sucking on her nipple and she braces a hand against the headboard, whimpering at his ministration. She tilts her hips so that her clit rubs against his pelvic bone and moves shallowly, letting pressure coil in her belly from the position they're in. He moves in deep, measured strokes, and she feels him sliding in and out of her, stretching her, hitting her walls and making her see stars.
She writhes on top of him, slowly losing her mind with pleasure, until she can't take it anymore. She sits up again and resumes riding him, circling her hips as his thumb finds her clit and teases it in quick, tight circles. She screws her eyes shut and speeds up more and more until the rope is cut and she comes, spasming on top of him as he continues to drive into her, thrusts growing arrhythmic until his orgasm hits him as well.
They cool off in each other's arms, a comfortable silence settling over the room until they start kissing and touching again. The second round is slower, skin sliding against skin, though both come faster, still stimulated from the previous orgasms.
They doze off a little afterwards, before she sits up and slides her palm up his chest.
"I should go," she tells him, voice rough.
"You could stay," he offers, voice quietly hopeful, and her heart grows tenfold.
"Come tomorrow I'll be working for you," she jokes gently and he purses his lips, but nods.
"Soon," he says, and it almost sounds like a question.
"Soon," she promises, and leans over the bed to kiss him one last time before she collects her clothes and leaves.
