This chapter might be the last one for a little while. The semester just started and I have a week to write a short story and I don't really have any ideas for that. Anyway, I'm going to be super busy this semester but I'll still try to update. Please review if you like it and it might help me find the energy to do more.
Harvey Reginald Specter does not think about a future with someone. In fact, before Theo came along he was hardly familiar with even thinking about someone else. With the exception of a few people, Harvey had made sure that he was almost completely alone. Yet, despite his efforts, the realization for him that being with Donna is probably where he should have been all along does not scare him. It's where he wanted to be 10 years ago.
He peels his eyes open and catches sight of her red hair beside him, splayed on the pillow surrounding her head, and he feels happy because he's finally getting to see it. The comfort that he feels with her hand wrapped her his wrist like she's silently begging him not to leave is not like one that he's ever felt before. He's compelled to reach over and drag a hand through her hair, fingertips lightly brushing through the disheveled locks and palm sliding over her cheek. He doesn't want to wake her, but he has to leave.
He pushes his hand down her spine and lightly presses his fingertips into the small of her back to glance at the clock. It's later than he meant for it to be. Part of him doesn't want to leave. In a different universe, he wouldn't have to leave. He wouldn't have to go home so he doesn't ditch his teenage son. He feels bad wishing that he didn't have to go home.
His head hits the pillow in disdain, presumably a little too hard because it seems to wake her. Her eyes slowly open and she blinks a few times like she's trying to see him better. He can't help the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth.
"Sorry," he says, barely above a whisper.
She stretches beneath his touch. "What are you sorry for?"
"For waking you up," he say gently. He rolls onto his back, surprised when she follows him and kisses him so gently that he almost mistakes it for his imagination. The corners of his mouth touch hers as he matches her smile. "I have to leave. I don't want to, but," he trails off.
"But you have to," she supplies.
"Yeah," he absently agrees. His fingertips slide over her bare back, the warmth of her skin surrounding them, and he releases a sigh as she pushes her hand across his abdomen. He nearly shivers beneath her touch, his breath catching in his throat. "I should go," he tries again. He doesn't sound very committed to the idea.
"I know," she mutters.
His nose slides against hers as he moves to meet her lips with his own in an open mouthed kiss. It's like she's prepared, lips parted and tongue poised against his top lip already. Her fingers grasp onto his side just beneath his rib cage. He really didn't know it would ever be this hard to get out of someone else's bed. His fingers push into her hair, cupping the back of her neck as her fingers dig deeper into his ribs, and she elicits a noise into his mouth.
He can't tell if it's an objection, if it's a moan, if it's a sigh. She almost pinches him with her fingers, like she's using him for leverage to keep her afloat, like she's desperate to have him near. He wouldn't dare object to that, not after waiting so long to finally have her near. He swallows. Her tongue slides against his, curling into it with ease.
Her leg hooks over his waist and she straddles him in one movement. The pressure of her hips on his takes him off guard, makes the air constrict in his chest. Her teeth tug on his bottom lip as her fingers press into his jaw. He swallows the lump in his throat as she sinks onto him, so slow that he almost can't breathe. He breaks away for air, but is met with more than that. A sigh falls from her lips, collides with his cheek.
He involuntarily groans. Her palms press into his chest. He can see the light from the street lamp illuminate her face, her chest, showing him just enough to slide one hand down her front between her breasts. She pouts, he thinks it's probably the cutest pout he's ever seen on another human being but he wouldn't dare voice that opinion, and she rocks backward – forward – backward – forward. He squeezes his eyes shut tight as she moans, his thumb finding her clit and circling the bundle of nerves.
She sucks in a deep breath as he tugs her downward, their lips colliding with an urgency as he swallows what would be her measured scream. Her thighs squeeze his hips, making him work harder to thrust upward. The movements are slow but fast at the same time. His mouth is fused to hers, tongue touching hers in a way that sends a chill up her spine. Her breasts press against his, nipples brushing over his so lightly that he tightens his grasp around her waist.
Her mouth slides over his chin, presses into his neck as he thrusts. Her hands wrap around his shoulders, fingers splaying out against his skin and pulling him closer. He grunts; she groans into his neck. Her nails slowly leave a trail down his sides and push back up to his shoulders. He swallows. He groans. He sighs into the air. Her hips still rock against his.
His thumb continues to work circles. Her teeth sink into his collarbone, biting hard while meeting his movements halfway. He is in awe of her, of the way she can do so many things that drive him crazy at one time. Just as he feels the heat rise in his stomach, her tongue sweeps over his skin and leaves a trail. He sucks in a deep breath and pushes his fingertips harder into the small of her back.
She moans against his jaw and it's a sound that he could get used to hearing often. She rolls her hips a few more times before he feels her muscles clench around him, and he could stop right there. He really could. He wouldn't have to have anything else from her. He would be okay if she climbed off of him right now. But she doesn't.
Her hand finds his wrist and she pins it above his head, presses it into mattress after banging it against the nightstand a bit too hard. She rolls her hips more, rocking back and forth while stroking the length of him. His mouth falls open if not for any other reason than him being impressed by her perseverance, and he supposes that she has always tried to please him more than anyone else ever has. He tucks his bottom lip between his teeth as she lifts her head to look him in the eye.
He's going to cum so hard that he can't breathe. It's going happen, he realizes; it's going to be something that he could do every day. His breath evades his lungs as he orgasms.
She pushes her chest against his again, just briefly, as her mouth finds his in a tender kiss. He deepens it a little more than she was expecting, his tongue sweeping over her slightly parted lips. Her hand taps against his chest in warning, but her forehead lingers against his.
"That was good," she mumbles against his lips.
He can still taste her words. "Yeah."
"You should really go," she adds. Her fingers push against the perspiration on his forehead.
He sighs. He's still breathing hard. "I know."
She clutches the sheet to her chest and rolls off of him, taking the blankets with her. He lightly shakes his head and grins. He sits up slowly. Her hand touches his back and he turns his head to look at her. He wishes that he didn't have to leave, to prove to her that this is different for him.
"You didn't have to do that," he insists lightly, quietly.
"Yeah, well," she starts; she grins mischievously, "I wanted to leave you something to think about."
He smiles sadly. "Maybe one day I won't have to leave."
"What are you doing in here?" Rachel greets excitedly as she enters the break room. She feels like she hasn't seen her friend all week, after she had to cancel on going to her apartment the night that Chelsea was at a friend's because her parents decided she just had to join them for dinner. Come to find out, her father was dropping hints all night that she should date the young man he'd invited. Rachel's mother was less than thrilled since they both know she is very much involved with Mike Ross. "You have access to the partners' kitchen. Why would you ever want to come back to the associate pool?"
"They just don't offer the Cheetos that I crave?" Donna says by way of question.
Her words are false. She's avoiding Harvey – her boss, her friend, her lover. She doesn't exactly know why she's avoiding him after the day (or night) that they had, but she knows that she is terrified that she will find herself alone with him. She'd much rather brave the associate pool than finding herself alone in a room with him.
She knows that she is being incredibly unfair to him, to herself. She really can't find herself alone in a room with him. It could be because she's afraid of what she feels for him, what he seems to feel for her, or maybe she's just afraid what it will mean to both of them if it just doesn't work out the way that they both want it. She certainly wasn't feeling like this when he left her apartment in the mere hours of Saturday before dusk. Maybe she was comforted by the darkness of the city before being hit with the sheer reality that is before her.
The part she is most terrified of is that he is all in.
Harvey isn't budging. Every step back she tries to make, he makes a step forward. He's turning every movement they make into a dance that she can't possibly deny. And she's so torn because she wants to be with him, but she's so scared of what that means. She's embarrassed of her fear, saddened that all she can think about is what it's like to kiss him. She feels like she can't even be in the same room with him without craving him.
She's such an idiot.
What was she thinking – getting involved with her boss?
"Donna," Rachel practically sings.
Donna blinks a few times before she opens the bag of Cheetos with a grin. "Rachel," she replies playfully.
"What's with you? You look like you're glowing," Rachel comments.
Donna's eyebrows furrow and she shrugs dismissively. "Thanks, I guess."
"You're absolutely stunning," Rachel adds.
"As opposed to?" Donna asks, the question open ended and daring her best friend to answer that.
"Okay, fair point," Rachel agrees with the wave of her hand. "But what's gotten into you?"
Harvey. She can't say that. She rolls her eyes dramatically – "Nothing."
"It's something," Rachel insists, "I just can't place my finger on it."
"It's nothing," Donna maintains.
"Good afternoon, Ladies," Harvey greets from the doorway.
Is he stalking her now? It really seems like he's stalking her. She arches an eyebrow in response but doesn't venture to look at him. She was always told that eye contact is the root of all problems. Rachel's eyebrows furrow at the odd exchange.
"Afternoon, Harvey," Rachel replies carefully.
"Nothing to say, Donna?" He goads her. She's not interested in playing his games;
except she really, really is.
"You've been at your desk all morning. This is hardly the first time we've seen one another," she counters smugly.
He tilts his head, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "Touché."
"You can't be in here," Donna finally says.
"I've been looking everywhere for you," he retorts.
Her eyebrow arches on her forehead; "you found me."
"You didn't answer your phone when I called you," he mulls. The worry lines etch into the corners of his mouth.
"I didn't hear it."
"I needed you." His response is immediate, throws her off because it was the last thing she's expecting. She doesn't know what context he means it in. He swallows hard enough that she sees his Adam's Apple bob in his throat.
Donna relents. "Sorry, Rach. Break's over. Catch up later?"
"Absolutely," Rachel returns.
Donna falls into step beside him, nearly leading him through the long, dark hallway. She's suddenly aware that no one uses this hallway anymore. Or maybe she's aware that they're actually alone, the very thing she's been avoiding.
His fingers press into her hip and guide her backwards into a darkened doorway, cut out of the wall to make way for a deeper shadow. She never recalled any hallway in this building being so mysterious that he could bombard her and no one would notice. She's taken off guard when kisses her, so much so that she laughs against his mouth. The laughter vibrates against his lips. It's enough for him, she realizes as he walks away. His fingertips still burn on her skin where his hands had been desperate enough to feel her.
Scottie is standing in his office. Again. He is not amused. Donna has been shooting daggers in his direction and he's been shooting them back at her, but they are mostly speaking in code behind Scottie's back. He doesn't know how to get her out of his office. This is the second time in two weeks that she's forced her way in.
All Donna can think is that clearly, this is moving too fast. It's obviously too fast if Scottie keeps coming into his office unannounced like she holds stock in his life in any way, shape, or form. Donna isn't ready to deal with a jealous ex, and the jealous ex is not something she feels they are prepared to discuss. Donna hasn't even told her best friend yet that they are even seeing each other. It just doesn't seem right.
They have kids involved. Not just a meet the kid kind of thing, but the kind of thing that could really screw up both of their lives. Their kids are attached to both of them. Harvey provides for Chelsea in ways that Donna couldn't without him, and Theo turns to Donna at times that he feels he can't approach Harvey. To sabotage everything that is between them would effectively ruin their professional, their personal, and their kids' lives. They definitely can't throw Scottie in the mix.
She could pretend that it would work out. That once they say goodbye to Scottie today that it would be goodbye for good, but Donna is not a total idiot – despite the fact that all of the decisions she's seemed to make lately only prove otherwise. Every time that Scottie waltzes on into his office, Donna begins to doubt every decisions she's ever made regarding her boss.
"Listen," Harvey finally interjects Scottie's aimless rambling, "I need to take a break to consult with my secretary."
"She isn't a lawyer," Scottie counters, annoyed.
"I value her opinion," Harvey replies with a shrug.
He's on his feet despite Scottie's protests and already half way out of the door before she's even standing. He catches Donna by the elbow, seemingly dragging her behind him in the direction of a conference room. Donna seems to be hesitant to follow him, like she doesn't see it necessary. He nearly pleads with her right there in the middle of the office, everyone packing up their desks and preparing to go home.
She thinks that she can hear him stomping and if the door didn't catch on the carpet then he would have slammed the glass door to the conference room. Her eyebrows raise in accusation, her lips part like she isn't going to take his shit, and her hip juts out like she could stand a fight. He plays with his jacket buttons, unbuttoning them and doing them back up.
"I know exactly what you're doing," he accuses.
She narrows her gaze at him. "I'm not doing anything. I'm just doing my job."
"I can see you formulating about a thousand reasons for this, for you and me, not to work and it's bullshit, Donna. I don't want her here. I'm not asking her to come back, she just keeps parading into my office as if I've invited her and I don't want to see her. You remember what it was like when we were together. She expected me to put her first, above my thirteen year old son, and I couldn't take it anymore. Every time she tries to make the conversation personal, I don't even bother responding. So why are you shutting down?"
"I'm not," she insists.
"Oh please, we both know I'm not that stupid," he snaps.
She nearly jumps in her spot as he grabs the back of a chair, like he needs it for support. "Harvey, I just," she hesitates and swallows, "this is still new and it's a huge risk. We're risking a lot."
"I don't get it," he says with a deep sigh, "when we're alone together it's perfect. You seem like you're exactly where you want to be. We just… But then we aren't alone together anymore and you try to come up with these reasons that we shouldn't try this."
"Maybe we shouldn't be together," she barks.
He tilts his head, swallowing like he's trying to regain his composure. "Don't say that. You don't mean that."
"I have a kid, you have a kid-"
"Exactly! That's exactly it. I trust you to always put Theo's interests over your own and he loves you a lot," Harvey says. She suddenly starts laughing. His eyebrows knit together in confusion at her outburst and he lightly shakes his head. "What? What's so funny?"
She tucks her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment before shaking her head. "He told me the other day that if he were you, he would be in love with me."
The corners of his mouth tug upward but they don't form into a smile. "Donna, I…" He trails off, not sure what that has to do with anything.
"That's the thing, Harvey. My kid relies on you, your kid relies on me. We might as well just end this now before everyone ends up getting hurt," she tries. He watches her hug herself, like she's trying to comfort herself. He wants it to be his job. He doesn't want to believe that they're going to end.
"Why do you keep doing this, Donna? I l-," he stops himself, his words sinking into his lips. "I like what we've been doing. It hasn't been long, but maybe it has. Maybe whatever is between us," he gestures between them, "has been going on for a very long time, and maybe we're just now allowing ourselves to do something about it. Maybe nobody is going to get hurt. I mean, not all relationships are perfect and people fuck up sometimes, but we can work that it. We've worked everything else out. I want you and I need you. Is that so bad?"
She groans and slams her palms against her thighs. "Yes! Because you keep saying shit like that and it makes me want to kiss you, but I can't do that here. You keep saying all the right things but for someone I'm with for ten hours a day, it's hardly ever the right time."
He swallows and lets his gaze drop to the floor. He squeezes the chair tighter to keep himself from reaching out and touching her. "I understand," he says, voice soft and more comforting than she remembers it being with everyone else, "it happens to me, too. But it's how I know that I'm not tired of seeing you every day – that when I look at you and feel the same thing I've felt for longer than I've allowed myself to admit – it all makes sense that us doing this is the right thing to do. I want to be with you more than I've ever wanted anything. I only wish that you felt the same way."
She takes a step towards him, so close to letting the logic of their whereabouts keep her from reaching out to touch him. Her fingers slide along his wrist until she can find his heartbeat. She looks at him though, and she sees that he's afraid. "I do, Harvey. I really do."
"Then," he starts, eyes catching hers and the slightest hints of a grin toying on his lips, "can you stop scaring me for no reason, please?"
"It's not that simple," she retorts.
He sighs. He feels like he's been doing that a lot lately. He might just be fed up with entire situation, not being sure that she isn't going to run at any given moment. He's trying so hard to keep that from happening.
"Why don't you go ahead and leave for today and I'll call you as soon as Scottie leaves?"
"You don't need me?" She asks quietly.
"Of course I do," he replies evenly, "but this could take a while and you're already finished for today. I don't see why you should be kept from spending time with your child because Scottie won't take a hint."
"Don't forget you have a kid of your own," she reminds him. He nods lightly and purses his lips. He knows that she's right, that he's been working too much lately on things that are far less important than his kid.
He smiles gently as her hands find the lapels of his jacket and begins straightening his attire as if it is second nature by now. "Thanks for keeping me on track."
"That's what I'm here for," she says. Her palms flatten against his chest for just a moment too long, and it takes everything in him not to touch her. He's been keeping himself from touching her for so long; he can do this. She withdraws her hands. "Don't stay too late, okay?"
"You're the boss," he responds with a grin.
Her gaze follows him. His chest briefly touches her arm as he passes her, the touch his attempt of returning her gestures. It's more obvious when he touches her, but she's just doing what she's always done. She notes the way he tries not to hesitate, how he focuses so hard on presenting himself as the strong man he always tries to be, but that doesn't keep her from locking eyes with Mike over Harvey's shoulder.
And Donna notes by the look on Mike's face that the exchange was oddly intimate, even for them.