One

She and Harvey had been making eyes at each other all day. Now it was several hours past closing and they were two of the few people left in the building, working late. Harvey worked late because he cared about his job and those who depended on him. Anna worked late because she was a secretary and no one ever actually did any of their own paperwork or organization when it was easier to just dump it all into her lap. This irritated her, to a point. The truth was, organizing crap so that it wasn't crap anymore soothed her brain and made her feel like all was right with the world.

But sometimes it was difficult to concentrate on her work when Harvey didn't have anywhere to go and spent the day in the office. She wasn't his secretary, and Anna wasn't sure if she was happy about this or not. On one hand, having feelings for one's own boss was not the best idea. On the other, if she'd been his secretary it would've meant more time seeing him. Being near him. Finding excuses to lean over his desk and show off her cleavage, or her ass. This game had started a long time ago, and if he'd ever given any indication that he didn't like it, or found it inappropriate, she would've stopped and moved on. For the most part, he was nothing but professional with her. For the most part, in fact, they hardly ever interacted.

But the two of them spent long hours after dark in this building almost alone, and Mr. Dent always seemed to find an excuse to come to her door, and never begrudged speaking to her if she came to his. And now she sat at her desk and he stood outside the door, shuffling papers in his hands, occasionally glancing up at her. He looked… nervous, which was a strange expression on his face. Normally, when he looked at her, if he looked at her, his eyes were smoldering. Now, they flitted across her face and away like a bird that flies off the second you take a step near it.

Anna swallowed, wondering if this was the night Mr. Dent told her that what they were doing with their longing looks across corridors was unprofessional. Well. If it was going to happen, she might as well get it over with.

She cleared her throat, standing up from her desk, and smoothed her skirt with her hands, just to give herself something to do. "Can I help you, Mr. Dent?" She'd said those words so often over the last few years that they sounded odd to her now, in this shaky tone of voice. Normally, those words were smooth and full of meaning as she sashayed over to him, asked him if he wanted coffee, if he needed something faxed. And he'd say, "No, no, Ms. Holden. You should return to your desk; I'm sure you have plenty of your own work to attend to." And he'd clear his throat and straighten a stack of papers on his desk and glance at her out of the corner of his eye and hold that glance for far too long. And almost smile.

"Yes, Ms. Holden," Mr. Dent said.

Anna came crashing back to the present. "E-Excuse me?" He had never said yes before.

Mr. Dent cleared his throat. "May I come in?"

"Yes, of course!" Anna winced internally. She sounded far too eager. This game wouldn't work if she didn't play hard to get.

Harvey Dent stepped into the room. "Ms. Holden, I was wondering if you'd like to have a cup of coffee with me sometime."

Anna blinked up at him, her heart beating a million miles an hour. Had he just asked her on a proper date? After two years? "I—I'm sorry," she said, "like, as a business thing?"

Mr. Dent looked at her with something like a pained expression and then looked away. "No."

She stared at him some more, her face growing warm, and a slow smile lifted her mouth. "Mr. Dent, are you asking me out on a date?"

He looked relieved, as if he'd been afraid she would never understand and he'd have to spell it out for her. He turned back to her. "Yes."

She took a breath, reveling in this moment. "I thought you'd never ask."

His face changed, then. The nervousness left him and he stopped fidgeting with the paperwork. His blue eyes looked black in the low lighting. "Wonderful. So… coffee."

"Yes."

"Pick a day."

"Now." The word was out of her mouth before she realized what she'd said. Of course they couldn't have coffee now. It was about nine o'clock at night. She blushed, opening her mouth to apologize or laugh or anything—

—but his facial expression had changed again. His head tilted slowly to one side and his eyes seemed to burn a hole right through her, into her soul.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Ms. Holden—

"Anna."

"Anna… Would you like to have coffee with me… at my apartment… right now." It wasn't a question.

Anna tried to keep a grip on her sanity. "Will there be any actual coffee involved?"

He said nothing for a beat or two. "No. Probably not."

She stood up slowly, leaning forward and planting her hands on the desk and looked up into his face. "Hell yes."

He looked at her for a moment, then turned away, presumably to wait for her to gather her things.

"Harvey."

He turned back again and she reached up and gripped his tie and pulled him down to her across the desk. When their lips met, his inhaled sharply through his nose, dropped the stack of papers with a loud thwap, and held her face in his hands. A few moments later, his long fingers were tangled in her hair and tugging at her clothes and he was practically pulling her up onto her desk.

She pulled away and moved around her desk and he met her halfway and their bodies collided. Two years of sexual tension crackled between them like electricity. Her heart pounded in her chest so fast she thought it might explode. His mouth was hot on hers. Then he gripped her by the hair at the base of her skull and pulled her head back, kissing her neck. She released a gasping moan that she could not have stopped if she'd wanted to.

He went still.

"S-Sorry," she said, her voice hoarse. "My neck is really sensitive."

He hmm'd low in his throat so that it sounded more like a growl and his mouth went back to her neck, insistent.

She stood in his embrace, lost to the world for a time, nerves on fire, only half-aware of the noises coming out of her mouth. When he finally stopped and looked at her, his eyes were wild, pupils dilated, mouth red and half-open, breathing heavily. She knew in that moment that she would do anything he wanted.

He pulled her over to her desk and lifted her up by the waist so that she sat atop it. He was so close, his body radiating so much heat, that she leaned back a little, placing her hands behind her. Her left hand landed on the stack of papers and slipped.

Harvey's head jerked to her hand, to the papers. He picked them up and flung them into the corner of the room as if they had offended him, and then, before she knew what he was doing, he crouched down in front of her legs and shoved her skirt up around her thighs.

She gasped. The sound made him look up, and he waited. She nodded wordlessly, barely able to think at all. She felt his fingers reach up past her skirt and hook around her panties and she lifted herself off the desk a little to help. He pulled them down around her ankles and then his face disappeared between her legs and all she felt was his hot wet tongue and he did not stop until she had twisted his hair into a wild mess and called his name a hundred times.

When he stood again, some time later, she was still trembling post-orgasm. "Harvey," she whispered.

"Anna." The way he said her name sent a tingle down her spine and she shivered even harder.

She reached a hand down between them and paced it against him and felt his cock straining hard against his slacks. "What about you?" she asked, still whispering, as if she'd forgotten how to do anything but.

He looked suddenly apprehensive. "Th… there's a couch… in my office." He said it so hesitantly, as if afraid she'd reject him, even now.

She slid down off the desk, landing awkwardly in her heels, her legs still wobbly from orgasm. He caught her arms to steady her. "Thanks," she murmured, and pulled her panties up. She took his hand and started to leave the room, but turned back and grabbed her purse. Then she took his hand again and led him to his office. For just those few moments, walking through the empty hallways of the building, she wondered if they were truly alone, or if they were about to be caught by a fellow employee. But no one appeared to spoil the fun. Still, this was dangerous. They would both be fired if anyone found out. It made her feel… alive.

When they made it to his office he turned and closed the door, leaning his back against it for a moment.

"Harvey, are you sure you want to do this?" she asked.

The fire in his eyes went out for a moment and there was that hesitancy again. "Do you not want to?"

"No, I mean…" She stared at him. "I want to. I just mean, we could get in trouble if we're caught."

He returned her stare, looking down his nose at her, and the smolder came back into his eyes. "I don't care if you don't," he murmured.

I think I love this man, she thought, and pulled him over to his couch. She pushed against his chest and he sat down. She followed him down, kneeling between his legs, and his undid his belt. A moment later, she held his cock in her hand, pulled out through the hole in his boxers. She stared at it, her vision glazing over for a moment, and took him in her mouth.

He groaned—a glorious sound that sent goosebumps across her skin—and tangled a hand in her hair. But then he said, "No."

She released him and stared up into his face. "N-No?"

His nostrils flared as he breathed. His eyes had gone wild again. "Get up here," he growled at her, and it sent a shock through her body.

"Wait," she said, and reached into her purse, riffling around for a moment until she found…

"You keep condoms in your purse?" he asked, and sounded almost normal for a moment, as if they weren't about to have sex, and this were a regular, everyday question.

"You don't keep condoms on you?" she asked.

His eyes went soft for a moment. "It's… It's been a long time."

She put a hand on his thigh. "That's okay." Before they could get too mushy and in their feelings, she rolled the condom down over him, kicked off her heels, threw her panties across the room, and crawled onto his lap.

When she sank down onto him they both groaned. He moved at once, with a speed that surprised her. She gasped and buried her face into his shoulder, biting her lip.

He stopped. "Is—Is this—okay?"

She almost laughed, sitting up again to look him in the eye. "I like it rough."

His eyes widened, nostrils flaring, and then he gripped her by the hips and fucked her like an animal until her mind was all white noise and static. At some point, they stopped so that he could yank his pants halfway down and remove his suit jacket. His skin was red and sweat beaded his forehead. Her fingers moved swiftly over his shirt buttons and he pulled that off too, and then reached for her and pulled her blouse up over her head.

He entered her again and went searching along her back to unclasp her bra.

"It opens in the front," she breathed.

He went cross-eyed for a moment, looking for the clasp—she almost laughed but his incessant thrusting made laughter impossible. He found a nipple and she threw her head back, enjoying the mix of sensations between the cold air and his warm mouth.

He came almost as loudly as she had, his head back against the cushions, eyes squeezed shut, holding her hips down against him so that she couldn't move as he bucked up into her. When he was done, his chest heaving, she fell against him, and his arms went around her.

After a time, when Anna's limbs no longer felt like jelly, she crawled off of him with a groan, carefully pulled the condom off of him, tied it into a knot, and wrapped it in a tissue from her purse. Then she stuck it back into her purse.

"There's a trashcan," Harvey said, gesturing towards it.

"I'd rather not leave the evidence behind," she said, and flopped onto the couch beside him.

They breathed for a while.

"Um," Harvey began, "was that… Did you…?"

"It was perfect," Anna said.

He released a breath. "Thank God."

"It helped that you ate me out first," she said. "You get brownie points for that."

Harvey smiled without looking at her. "Ladies come first."