Hello everyone. Thanks so much to everyone who's left a review here on the latest chapter! I always love reading your thoughts. I'm sorry this took a little longer, but sometimes these characters just do what they want and then I have to replan everything around it. Ooh well, still love these IDIOTS. So, here's the next chapter. As always, I hope you'll enjoy it and would love to hear your thoughts.
X - M.
A HELPING HAND
CHAPTER 4: THE CAN OPENER.
She can still taste him, and her hands still tremble when she makes it home. Closing the door behind her, she turns around and lets her frame slump against it, letting her head tilt back against the door as the gravity of what she's just done sinks in.
And then she laughs.
So loudly, so bubbly it even surprises herself.
Bringing her hand up to cover her mouth, she eventually has to gasp for air in the midst of her laughter, but by then, all the nerves about what happened have made place for unadulterated joy.
After all these years, she finally gave in and just did what she wanted and fuck it if the realisation doesn't feel liberating.
Donna knows it's been her rule all along, doesn't regret having had it, and knows that whatever happened this night might leave them worse off than before, but for a moment, she doesn't care.
She kicks off her heels and dances on her tiptoes to the kitchen, swirling around in front of her fridge. She pulls out a new chilled bottle of white wine, grabs the largest glass she can find and skips back to her couch as she relives every delicious second of the memory in her mind.
How it felt having him in her hand again, feeling his dick twitch and pulse under her grasp. The warmth radiating off it when she ran the tip of her finger down his vein. The sound of his hiss when she brought her lips to his head, and the taste of the very first stroke of her tongue - just him, and only him.
No sticky, overly sweet whipped cream.
As hot as that was, the other time still classes as one of her best nights ever. It doesn't come close to the giddy feeling she has now.
Back then, everything was allowed. This, this was sort of forbidden but so damn thrilling.
Knowing that she can bring him to the brink of losing his mind with just her touch, her mouth, she's never felt as powerful as she does now.
And she likes this, this feeling of being carefree and just doing what she wants, what she desires, fuck the consequences.
From now on, she'll bend her rules whenever she wants to.
Three very large glasses down, it's imperative she shares this revelation with someone, so she picks up her phone, but unfortunately, she gets Rachel's voicemail.
.
"Morning," Rachel greets her husband with a soft kiss on his cheek as she pads into the kitchen beside him. She sits at the kitchen island, and as she watches Mike pour them a cup of coffee, she reaches for her phone.
Noticing the notification, she opens the chat with Donna. A frown appears on her face when she sees the last message the redhead left her, a voice note, a first between the two of them regarding their texting habits. For a moment, she wonders if it's a simple mistake as she sees the time it got delivered, but its duration is a solid three minutes, and surely, if it was a fluke, the redhead would have deleted it by now, wouldn't she?
And so she hits play.
"Rach, oh my god, Rachel, I have news.."
"Is that Donna?" Mike mutters as he looks over his shoulder. He fixes the second cup with some milk and then places it in front of Rachel, who hums in return.
"Why aren't you answering your phone, sweet pea? Also, why don't you have a voicemail message recorded? At least then I could have heard your lovely voice."
The brunette laughs and rolls her eyes at her husband. "I think she was drunk and thought a voice note was my voicemail."
"Anyway, Rach…" a pause is followed by a low chuckle, "Ooh my god, you'll never guess what I just did. I sucked Harvey's dick, and it was -"
Rachel drops her phone out of shock, a small but loud gasp escapes her, and Mike is next to her in a beat. Looking at his wife and then the phone, he bends down to pick it up, accidentally hitting the 'resume' button as he does so.
"- so good. His dick is so big and beautiful. Truly never seen a more beautiful one in my life, and I have seen plenty, but Harvey's… Fuck, Rach…"
He nearly drops his wife's phone again as he tries to hit the pause button, finally managing to do so. He places the object down on the counter and retracts his hands. The expression on Rachel's face mirrors his own, both staring at the other with wide eyes and an open mouth. She's the first to crack and laugh, and he follows soon after.
"Took them long enough."
Rachel nods, but then she shakes her head. Something tells her it's not so simple. "Don't call Harvey."
"What," Mike objects, pointing at the incriminating object. "But-"
"Mike, honey, just let me talk to Donna first."
"So you can get even more details?" He teases her, shuddering at the thought. His photographic memory usually works with things he sees, but he's sure it will take a long time to forget what he just overheard about his friend.
"I think I know enough, thank you." He concludes, starting to walk away, but he turns around in the door opening. "Wait, did you ever tell her –"
He doesn't have to finish his sentence before Rachel shrugs and smiles at him.
"When?"
"After the file room," Rachel answers her husband, blowing him a kiss. "Don't call Harvey."
Mike sighs and rolls his eyes. "Fine."
.
Stretching into a downward-facing dog, she feels her muscles tense and groans when her phone rings. Pushing up, she runs the small towel over her frame. She's sweaty, hot and in desperate need of a shower, and when she sees it's not Harvey but Rachel calling, she feels a little disappointed.
"Hey, sweet pea," she answers as she catches her breath.
"Ooh," Rachel mumbles as she hears the heavy breathing on the other side of the line. She looks down at her watch. "Are you with Harvey now?"
Donna almost trips over her own feet at the question. "What?"
Rachel takes a breath and shakes her head. Of course, this wasn't going to be easy. "I just got a fascinating voice note, that's all."
She remembers the lengthy description she gave last night, and her mind drifts off to the images that come with them. She can feel her cheeks flush even more, and it takes a good twelve seconds before she answers as nonchalantly as possible. "Ooh, that. Yeah."
"What does it mean?"
The question doesn't surprise her, and if the situation had been reversed, she'd have been the one asking it. Now she sighs and wordlessly curses her friend for picking up on her reading skills. She looks down at her hand, turns her nails over, and picks at the edge of her thumb. "Why does it have to mean anything?"
"Because I've never known you to do anything without it meaning anything, Donna," she calls out to her friend. Twisting on the spot, she stirs the spoon around in her cup. "What are you gonna do when you see him Monday morning."
"Probably the same thing I did last week and the week before."
Rachel shakes her head at the answer she gets. She knows Donna can be stubborn when she wants to, but Rachel has never experienced this kind of carelessness before, and she suddenly realises that even though the voice note came in last night, the detailed occurrence was not a one-off. "How long has, whatever this is, been going on between you and Harvey."
"Three weeks."
"But you two are not together."
"No."
"But-"
"We're just helping each other have fun."
"Fun?"
"Yeah, sex is supposed to be fun."
Rachel draws in a breath, pinches the bridge of her nose and counts to three. "I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I won't."
"Donna-"
"Rachel, please… I -" she pauses, shakes her head, and thinks over her words. She stares at herself in the mirror, smiles and then speaks again. "Look, I know it doesn't sound logical, and maybe things would be different in another universe, but I'm tired of pretending I don't want him. And I might not have it all, but I can at least have him one night a week this way."
She hears it then, the underlying vulnerability in her friend's voice. The genuine desire shines through in the redhead's intonation: for it to be real, for it to be more, and she wishes more than anything that she could make it happen for her friend. Make sure she's just as happy as she is with Mike, but she also knows the last time her husband interfered, it nearly caused a rift between their two stubborn friends.
And so, Rachel gives in, keeping further comments for herself. "Just know I'm here for you when you need to talk, okay? I love you.."
Donna knows her friend can't see it, but she nods. "I love you, too."
.
"And did you get the details you wanted?"
It's the first thing Mike calls out when he gets home that afternoon. When there's no instant answer, he drops his grocery bags on the cabinet and walks into the living room. "Honey?"
Rachel looks up, gives him a small smile, and reaches for his hand. "Thank you."
He frowns in surprise and sits down on the couch's backrest as he envelops her hand in his own.
"For loving me and being clear about it."
He realises then where her comment comes from. "Donna and Harvey-"
She looks up at him and shrugs. "I don't know what they're doing, Mike. Fooling around like that. She's going to get hurt."
"Harvey, too," Mike retorts, and when he catches the look on his wife's face, he lets go of her hand. "You think he doesn't love her."
"That's not—" she shifts. "I fear Harvey won't do anything about it."
His instinct is to object, wondering if Donna has ever given Harvey a real clue that she wants him to do anything about it. He remembers what Harvey told him about their fallout after Donna kissed him, but he keeps it to himself and gets up from the couch again.
"Mike."
"Yeah?"
"Don't tell Harvey we know something is going on. I don't think she wants to break that bubble yet."
He doesn't answer but nods instead. He agrees to his wife's request because as much as he loves Donna, his loyalty lies with Harvey, and it doesn't feel right not to tell him they know.
But he also knows the last time he interfered, things got messy. Thus, he does as his wife asks, at least for now.
.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rachel's words have registered or reiterated what she's always known deep down, but the euphoria has been too much. All weekend long, she's done nothing but think about him, his cock, his taste. While lounging on her couch, taking a long bath, and lying in bed. And in the shower again this morning.
And damn everything if she's not going to feel fantastic about it.
She checks her lipstick in the elevator mirror, runs a hand down the tight skirt of her dress, and adds a little sway to her hips as she steps off it.
.
Harvey barely slept all weekend, and in the mere hours he did, she still haunted his dreams. He's woken up painfully hard in need of release four times, and each time he took himself in hand, he thought about her delicate fingers stroking him, her lips around his cock, and those beautiful hazel eyes staring back up at him.
He's pretty sure just laying eyes on her today could make him come, and he's never been this worked up in his life. He wills his mind to think of anything else, but whatever topic comes to mind, it's always a three-step association back to her.
cases, going to trial, the can opener, Donna
coffee, vanilla, the smell of her shampoo, Donna
cows, dairy, whipped cream, Donna
"Harvey, morning."
"Alex.." He nearly growls in frustration when his fellow name partner gets in the elevator with him.
"You okay? You seem a little tense."
"Yeah," he swallows thickly, using his index finger to pull on his collar. "Just didn't sleep well, that's all."
Alex hums and narrows his gaze on his friend, studying him for a moment but he doesn't comment further. When the elevator arrives at the fiftieth floor, he merely nods. "I'll see you in the conference room in ten."
"Right," Harvey answers, taking one last deep breath before he exits the elevator too.
Show time.
He stalls near the reception behind one of the associates, his eyes automatically drifting off to her office on the other side. It looks like she isn't there, and his stomach drops a little at the realisation, the questions, the what-ifs the sight brings along.
He pulls his phone out of his breast pocket, obsessively checking his calendar for the umpteenth time that morning - a part of him is sure their Friday meeting is going to be cancelled. Whatever happened last week is the drop that made the bucket run over, and it's all crashing down now.
But his Friday night is still blocked out; the orange line summarised as "private" staring back at him - it's both a relief and frightening at the same time.
His gaze drifts off to the conference room next to her office. It's empty too, and suddenly, he deeply regrets not calling her this weekend. He may have thought about it once every ten minutes, picked up his phone in one-third of all those cases and typed out and deleted a grand total of thirteen texts. He's confident their first interaction cannot be in front of all the other name partners.
He takes two steps to the reception desk and gives the kid who once graced Donna's cubicle a curt nod. "Has Miss Paulsen arrived already?"
Cameron looks up at Harvey. "Yes, I believe she walked towards the partner's kitchen."
"Thanks."
.
He spots her closing the fridge; her back is turned towards him, and she shows no signs of having noticed his presence yet, so he takes two seconds to admire her before he enters the room. Closing the door behind him and greeting her.
"Donna."
She feels her stomach somersault at his voice, breathing out slowly. She purses her lips into a smile and turns to face him. "Harvey."
A moment of silence follows, where neither speaks, but she feels his gaze burning her frame. His lips curve into that signature smirk she's grown to love, and she feels her own starting to mirror it as she admires the man in front of her.
God, he's beautiful.
Deep down, she's always known this, and she's been aware of the effect he could have on her if she allowed herself to feel it. And now that she does, maybe for the first time in her life, or rather since her teenage years, she experiences butterflies fluttering around in her stomach, making her light-headed.
He's transfixed by how she says his name; it's nothing special except that it is. Erasing any hint of anxiety he had left about the other night, she hasn't said it yet, but he knows she doesn't regret doing it and —
He scrapes his throat before his thoughts drift off once again. "So —"
Her breath falters when he takes a step towards her, and she corners herself behind the kitchen island, her hands fiddling with the fruit bowl in front of her.
He runs a hand through his hair, swallows once more and meets her at the corner of the island. "About last Friday…"
"We're fine, Harvey," she cuts in before he gets a chance to finish his question. "I don't regret it."
"Right," he mutters once he finds his voice again. It's been a thought plaguing his mind for forty-eight hours, but it wasn't where he was going. Actually, he has no idea what he was going to say or what he is going to say. "That's uhm good to hear."
She watches the way his Adam's Apple bobs and she bites down on the inside of her lip. He's nervous; it's a rare sight that does something to her. "Hmmm."
"I uhm.."
"Yeah?"
"Was uhm…" he looks down for a second, but it's the wrong move cause he gets a glimpse of her cleavage, and then his thoughts are voiced before he can even wrap his mind around them. "Wondering if you'd like me to return the favour?"
Of all the things she thought he'd say to her, this wasn't on the list, and it renders her speechless as her mind starts spinning.
He swallows thickly once again. He watches the way her eyes widen in surprise, and those beautiful lips part, but there's no retort, and he realises he may have royally fucked up just now. "Or uhm..sorry, I shouldn't..."
She snaps out of her imagination of his head buried between her legs with a shake of her head. Words still fail her as she loses her balance a little, although she's still rooted in her spot.
"Let me buy you lunch."
"Harvey," she says, pushing her hands down on the counter. "I'm not Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, okay. I don't need you to buy me lunch for giving you a blowjob."
He catches the way she stares him down with one of those looks he's seen others get one too many times over the years. He presses his lips together in a thin line, nodding in agreement.
Because of course, she doesn't need him to do that or anything at all. He's known that for years.
She meant what she just said but she doesn't miss the way his bravado falters just a little and realises then and there that she doesn't want him to think she didn't love doing it because she did.
"Harvey," she calls his name again. She waits for him to look at her, and she leans forward, lowering her voice as she speaks. " I did it because I wanted to, and when I want to do it again, I'll do it again."
When I want to do it again.
When. Not if.
When.
She catches him swallowing, smiles at how she can have him squirm with just a statement, and then bobs her head to the side. "Not now."
Harvey only manages to hum, breathing deeply, his fingers tense against the marble on the countertop.
Donna takes in the way his frame becomes rigid, and she can't help but let her eyes travel down. "Do I need to tell little Harvey that, too?"
He scrapes his throat, pushing down on the surface to stand taller. "I'm fine," he breathes, leaning towards the redhead. He lowers his voice when he speaks again. "And you and I both know there's nothing little—"
"Good morning, guys. Good to see you both."
They jump apart at the sudden appearance of Louis's voice. Harvey steadies himself against the counter once more. On the other hand, Donna grabs the first piece of fruit within her reach, and Louis, oblivious to what he had just walked in on, marches straight to the fridge.
"Nothing better than starting the work week than with a prunie, right?"
Panic kicks in then, and Harvey calls out to his fellow name partner, but that doesn't deter the other lawyer from opening the fridge and diving straight into the freezer compartment.
He can feel his heartbeat kick up a notch, and his mind is already spinning for possible excuses when he watches Louis pull out a bag that looks eerily the same as the one tossed into the bin under his desk last Friday.
Keeping his mouth shut, Harvey's near to holding his breath when he turns to look at Donna, remembering what he saw her do when he entered the partner's kitchen.
She seems to have caught up with his internal struggle because she gives him a wink and a devious smile. And then he hears her excuse herself. "Well, I'll see you both in the meeting."
.
When Samantha enters the conference room, she stalls instantly at the sight in front of her. Donna sits at the left end of the long table with Harvey on the opposing side.
It stands out to her because usually, when she gets here, the COO and the name partner sit next to one another, often so amicably chatting away they're oblivious to everyone else entering the room until Louis opens the meeting.
When Alex walks in after her, she shoots him a questioning look, but he seems to miss what she's hinting at. Instead, she smiles at all three of them and mumbles a greeting. Sliding into her usual seat, she lets her gaze drift from left to right.
Alex might not see what's happening before his face, but she does. And damn it, if subsequent to getting her name on the door, she isn't going to find out what the hell is going on.
.
It's a miracle he's made it through the meeting this far. It seemed like the most logical thing to do: distance himself as far as possible from Donna, but sitting opposite her proved challenging nonetheless.
She leans forward all the time, flicking her hair just so. And when someone asks her a question, she just so happens to bite down on her lip as if she's thinking over her answer; Harvey knows damn well she had prepared before Louis even asked her.
It's been torture, and somehow, he can't get enough cause after every move, he simply smirks at her and raises an eyebrow.
He instantly regrets his last counter when she picks up the banana she'd taken from the kitchen at the end of the meeting, opens it up and takes a bite that looks far too sensual for simply enjoying a snack.
That and the fact that he knows she doesn't even like bananas.
He comes up right behind her as she switches between the doors to her office. "That's not fair, you know."
He half expects her to look at him with those deer-like wide eyes over her shoulder, but he's glad she doesn't. "I don't know what you're talking about."
He bobs his head to the side, steps into her office, and steals the opened fruit from her hand. He takes a bite now, too. "You don't even like bananas."
She turns to look at him after that.
"What?" He mutters, "You told me once yourself. You don't even eat them in your ice cream."
She laughs but does her best to hide the blush warming its way to her face. She didn't think he'd remember that, and now teasing him has made her heart fluttering.
Her gaze drifts to his mouth when he takes another bite, and when she sees his lips turn up into a smirk when he chews, she knows he's doing the exact same thing to her as she was doing to him. Dammit.
She shakes her head and rounds her desk, pulling her chair back as she sits down and fires up her laptop. "If you don't mind, some of us have actual work to do."
Harvey rolls his eyes in return, takes her plea for him to leave her office as a win, and decides it's best to follow up on it before she manages to distract him again.
.
Around lunchtime, he thinks about his previous offer to buy her lunch. Not as a way to pay her back for what she did. He didn't even mean it like that earlier. He just thought it would be nice to grab a bite together, one that isn't necessarily a prerequisite to their extracurricular activities. But he figures it's best if he doesn't bring it up again.
Instead, he lets Louis convince him to try this new place down on Broadway, and he has to give it to the man; the steaks are excellent. The company isn't bad, either. It's not that he'll tell Louis that, but it's no Donna.
It's nearing seven when he finishes up his last brief of the day. He contemplates pouring himself a drink, but drinking alone doesn't have the appeal to it that it once had. He shuts down his laptop and marches his way down the hall.
It is twenty steps from his office to hers, and his pace automatically slows down at seventeen, just so the glimpse he gets of her is a little longer.
Her door is closed, and she doesn't seem to notice him walking by. It takes serious effort for him not to stop by and talk to her, but he also knows that if he wants to function this week, it's best to keep his distance. He knows she isn't looking, but he flashes her a smile all the same, the hand stuffed in the pocket of his suit pants raises on its own accord in a little wave. And then he leaves.
.
A soft knock on her door takes her out of her concentration, and when she looks up, she half expects to find Harvey standing there. Except he isn't, a young woman with a familiar delivery bag in her hand smiles at her.
She beckons the girl to come in with a flick of her wrist. Rolling her chair back, she makes her way over and takes it over.
"How much-"
"It's already been paid for, Miss."
She smiles, and her heart swells again. She waits for the girl to leave and then takes a deep breath, inhaling the delicious smell of her favourite Thai dish.
The note is stapled to the bag, but if she had any doubt left about who ordered this for her, its message is a dead giveaway.
This is not payment, I just noticed you were working late and figured you might get hungry.
.
She is hungry, but not necessarily for food. It's been two and a half days of near torture, feeling the butterflies kick around in her stomach every time she sees the lawyer. And her lips start to tingle every time she lets her mind wander a little too far.
And it happens a little too often.
Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she stares at her calendar. It's only Wednesday, meaning it will take at least another two weeks and then a bunch of excruciating hours before she can have him in her mouth again.
Before she can -
"Fuck," she curses at herself, bringing a hand up to fan her face. She operates her mouse with her other hand, opening Harvey's calendar, too. Her eyes drift over his appointments for the rest of the week until her gaze lands on the one for this afternoon.
At the courthouse.
A thought crosses her mind, and then a small smile forms on her lips as she formulates the rest of the plan. She knows it will be too obvious to act on it now. She is so distracted by what's yet to come that she only manages to write three paragraphs in the next hour as her hand keeps opening and closing up her desk drawer- just to make sure the kitchen utensil is still there.
It's a quarter past three when her phone alarm goes off, exactly thirty-five minutes before he'll have to leave to get across town in time for his hearing.
She draws in a breath, collects the papers on her desk and then grabs the can opener before she makes her way to his office.
She puts on her best smile and fakes nonchalance when she enters the room. Shifting the files to her left hand, she grabs a hold of the can opener on her right.
"Hey," she greets him. "I saw you're going to court later, and I thought… " she pauses, flicking her wrist so the can opener enters his vision. "I know we haven't done this in a long time, but -"
She lets the rest of her sentence unspoken when he stares at her. She places the shiny object on the corner of his desk and gives him a little shrug. "Anyway, I just wanted to wish you good luck."
She hears him mumble thanks, and she doesn't wait for him to comment more, knowing that she can't make it too obvious if she wants to do what she's been dreaming about since last Friday night. She has to make it seem like it was his idea to suggest it.
She smiles, turns around and shifts the files from her left arm to her right. Adding a slight sway to her step, she marches out of Harey's office and makes her way to the file room. She is silently counting down the seconds in her head.
Harvey draws in a breath as the redhead disappears from his peripheral vision. He shifts in his chair and then turns to look at the can opener on his desk. It's a symbol of their relationship, ritual, and success.
And as much as he enjoyed performing this silly ritual with her, there's a reason he became the best closer the city has ever seen. Because going to trial was preceded by a ritual to replace something they agreed not to mention again.
He picks it up and turns it over in his hand. It almost feels foreign. They've had this for years, and it hasn't been used since Donna left his desk to work for Louis. They didn't even make an exception for Mike's trial.
But it feels different now.
It is different now.
They are different now.
Harvey rolls it over between his fingers, and before he can think about it twice, he rolls his chair back and makes his way to the file room.
She bites down on the corner of her lip to hide her smile the second she hears the door open and close behind her. She waits three seconds before pausing at the copier and looking over her shoulder at him. "Harvey, what are you doing here?."
"Like you said before, I'm going to court."
She lets her gaze shift to the can opener in his hand. "You really want to play with the can opener?"
He repeats her answer in his head and notices the mischievous hint of a smirk tugging on her lips. "That depends…"
She turns around, finally facing him, taking two small steps towards him. She bobs her head to the side. "On what?"
"Whether or not this would count toward our once-a-week deal, 'cause I can't stop thinking about your lips around my cock - " He catches how her cheeks redden and the way she licks her lips. She might pretend she needs to think about it, but he knows her answer before she speaks.
Stealing the can opener from his grasp, she orders. "Lock the door."
He does as told, and he feels the redhead's hands on his back before he can walk back towards her again. She turns him around, pushing his back against the door. She sticks the can opener in the breast pocket of his jacket, and then he watches her lick her lips again before she lowers herself onto her knees.
She lets her fingers trail down his firm frame as she settles down in front of him, feeling his muscles flex under her featherlight touch as she starts to remove his belt. It's one from Tom Ford, whom she gifted for his birthday years ago. It's a stupid detail amid their tryst, but it makes her smile all the same.
She undoes the button of his pants and finally allows herself to lower her gaze to his groin. He's still fully covered, but his erection is prominent. She momentarily wonders if she has a magical touch that can get him this worked up this fast, but then she recalls him telling her he couldn't stop thinking about their encounter.
She licks her lips in anticipation and then slowly drags the zipper down, applying gentle pressure to his shaft. She hears the soft hiss that follows it and she smirks as she looks up at him. "Patience."
He grinds his teeth, his jaw setting as he shakes his head. The woman on her knees in front of him is incredible; this happening again is almost unbelievable. "Donna," he breathes, slowly bringing his right hand to her face. He tugs a strand of hair behind her ear and then pulls his hand back because the gesture is too soft for what this can't be. "Please," he adds. He's not above begging now, his eyes closing for a brief moment as she leans forward and places a kiss just above the band of his boxers.
Hooking the elastic band between her teeth, she draws her hands to his hips. Slowly, she pushes his suit pants down below his knees. Donna tugs on the band and lets it spring back against his skin as she takes a moment to admire him in his grey boxers. She has seen his dry cleaning enough times to know it's his preferred brand and has tried her best never to picture him in them, but now that she has the visual right in front of her face, she has to savour the moment.
Letting her hands run up the back of his thighs, she cups his ass. She gives it a quick squeeze, and she watches the way his dick twitches in response. The groan that follows is enough for her to give in finally, and when she peels back the fabric, she feels the giddy excitement she used to have when unwrapping her birthday presents.
He holds his breath at the torturously slow way she frees his dick from its confines, but he forgives her for all of it when he looks down at her and spots the marvel on her face—the way those big hazel eyes take in his length.
Donna brings her left hand to the base of his shaft and gently lets her fingertips trail his erection from the base to its tip and back, her thumb caressing the side over his pulsing vein. She repeats her actions with her right hand as she cups his balls with her left.
She knows they don't have much time but takes it anyway. Savouring the moment of getting to touch Harvey like this again, she also knows that if his desire matches her own, she'll be able to make him come in mere seconds, and she doesn't want this to be over just yet.
She strokes his length with a little more pressure this time, coaxing a moan out of him. She does it again and again until she notices the pre-cum starting to leak from his tip. Wetting her lips, she holds him in her hand and brings her mouth closer at last, letting her tongue come into contact first. She can't help but sigh at the taste of him and eagerly laps up his juices, immediately missing it when she's cleared him of his pre-cum.
And thus, she cups his sensitive balls again, letting her tongue circle around his head before she envelopes it with her lips. She slowly pulls back, making sure to look up at him as she lets his cock slip from her mouth, carefully dragging her lips and teeth down the underside of his length, using her tongue to soothe his flesh on her way back up.
She keeps her gaze on his face as she repeats her motions, taking his length into her mouth over and over again until his moans fall over one another and his hand comes to her cheek again. His touch is so gentle that it almost tricks her into believing this could be more, but she knows better. She told Rachel as much - they're just having fun.
She nods once and then closes her eyes as his release lands on her tongue, and her name in his low timbre rings in her head. She bobs her head twice more, coaxing every drop of his desire out of him. And then she pulls back, licking her lips as she forces her poker face to return.
He pants deeply, eyes feeling too heavy to open immediately. He's come plenty of times thinking about her the last couple of days, but this is a whole other ballpark he's equally scared and excited to explore. But before he can even repeat her name, he feels how she gently tucks him back into his pants.
He swallows thickly when she gets back up and fixes his belt.
She knows she's dragging out the inevitable. She knows she has to step back before Harvey asks if he should return the favour. She shakes her head with a confident smile before he can open his mouth.
"I'm not the one going to court."
He draws in a breath when she steps back. The distance between them is no more than a foot, but it feels too far. "Right," he adds, nodding in understanding - he asked for this, and this won't screw up their once-a-week deal as long as he follows her lead.
And so he does.
"I uhm… should go."
Donna nods quickly. Stepping aside, she picks up the can opener from the table and clutches it in her hands as she ignores every warning sign in the sound of Rachel's voice going off in her head. Donna watches him take a deep breath. The way he rolls his shoulders and the sound of the lock coming undone is deafening, but she ignores all of it.
"Harvey."
She sees the way he looks back at her.
She ignores that, too.
"Go get them, tiger."
A/N: Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! It would make my day to read your thoughts/predictions here in the reviews :) Thank you