Here's that fashion show piece I mentioned, I hope you like it. Now to wait for season 9 to drop in the UK. Anyone have any clue when?
My author's note is the same as ever - I do not own Suits its characters or plots and all recognisable dialogue will be clearly marked in italics.
How quickly plans made in haste could change, Donna thought to herself, stepping back into Conference Two, which Louis had taken to calling 'the war room' today.
Sipping her coffee, she realised that even her customary shot of vanilla could do little to lift her mood. It was a frankly ungodly hour, past time that even the most ruthless money makers would file billables and yet they were, still locked in a state of staunch indecision.
Sliding into her seat and allowing herself the briefest of moments to acknowledge just how through the ringer she felt, she glanced up and he caught her eye, his own twinkling as he offered her a smile.
There. There was her good thing. There was the thing that made her feel better. Harvey. She returned the smile; breaking eye contact just as she felt the colour beginning to rise in her cheeks.
By the grace of God-knew-what, Louis had managed to keep his mouth shut about the news he'd received this morning. At least within the firm. Within ten minutes of arriving, she'd had a text from Rachel bemoaning the fact that Louis knew before she did about her and Harvey. Needless to say, Donna had barely had time to promise that she would call her later before she had been summoned to a crisis meeting along with every partner in the place.
As was so often the case with these things, the crisis was more one of optics than anything else. Disbarment, of any kind and circumstance obviously cast a cloud over the firm and already secretaries and associates were reporting a high volume of 'concerned client' calls.
Well didn't good news travel fast?
In typical fashion, the partners of all levels couldn't quite agree on the best course of action. At one point, a small but not insignificant rumbling had called for her blood - this whole situation having been caused by her inability to resist a moment of doubt.
Naturally, Harvey, her protector, her love, had been swift to call them out, but one swift shake of the head from Donna put paid to his efforts to draw any more attention to her than she was already getting. She appreciated it really, she did but if this – they - were going to work, she had to fight her own battles.
It was the one thing she had always felt. Somehow, despite everything, they had always felt inevitable but she knew she could never be with him if he couldn't accept that she was capable of standing up to scrutiny. A look had passed between them and she had felt empowered by the depth of it.
The witch hunt against her had, in the end been short lived, thanks in part to Louis who had insisted that they needed to stop laying blame and start working as a team to resolve the concerns of their clients. Speaking of Louis, the Managing Partner barrelled into the room, flanked by two nervous looking associates.
"Ok, Ok, it's about to get Litt Up in here because I have it..."
"Have what Louis? The answer to life, the universe and everything? News flash it isn't 42," Harvey jibed.
"Mock away Harvey, but whilst you have been in your office reorganising your balls, I have been coming up with a plan."
Donna couldn't hide her smile as she spotted Harvey's sheepish expression.
"Well," Louis cleared his throat "now that I have the floor... What we need to show is that one bad egg does not a carton make right?"
"Are we ever going to stop speaking in metaphors today?" This from Harvey.
"More importantly are we ever going to acknowledge that Robert did nothing wrong?" Samantha chimed in.
"Look, what's past is past and yes," Louis acknowledged, quieting Samantha, "we may not be happy with what went down, but we have to focus on the future and how we preserve the team we have and the clients we've got."
"So, what are you proposing?" someone asked from the back.
"This is about optics right? About how we're perceived... so what we need to do is not be just another bullshit firm who can't be honest with their clients. They want to look? They want to see us? Well, let's damn well give them something to look at."
"Like what? You want to make us animals in the zoo?" someone else chipped in.
"Damn straight I do. You know the male peacock, how he puffs up his plumage in display? I want this firm to be that bird. I want our clients, our colleagues, our opponents, everyone to see what we're made of."
"You think it's a good idea for people to see us right now?" Harvey asked.
"I think we need to throw the doors wide, throw a cocktail hour for our clients, for prospective clients to show them that we are here and we are open and there is nothing to worry about. You know what people want right now? They want honesty."
"Cocktail hour?" A murmuring went around the room. It seemed so simple.
"I think Louis is right," Donna agreed. As COO, her opinion counted in this room.
"You think Louis is right? Ok great Donna. You want some honesty? I think that if you and Harvey had been honest with each other before now, none of this would have happened. You love him. How hard is that to say?" Samantha was mad, their tenuous friendship seemed to be hanging in the balance.
She took it in her stride, chancing a glance at Harvey who gave her a nod. "You're right Samantha. This is my fault. I've accepted that, I've apologised for it and you're also right about Harvey and I. I do love him..." a tremor of slightly shocked relief rippled through the room.
...and I love her," Harvey spoke up. "We've been honest and you know what, it feels damned good. Now, this is not going to affect our work, neither is it any of your business. I think Louis' plan is a great one so why don't we set up this cocktail hour next week and get the hell out of here now because I sure could use some sleep." Harvey put any shadow of doubt behind them and Louis quickly dispersed the meeting, suggesting an early morning commencement on Monday.
Busting free of the conference room at an hour that could barely still be called Friday, everyone made a beeline for their offices in a desperate attempt to salvage what was left of the start of their weekend.
They got to his office and he asked her to come inside. She obliged.
"Donna, I know we said we wanted to take the announcements slowly, but I wanted Samantha to know, whatever her feelings about us and the situation, I am deadly serious about you."
"I know," she said. "It's like you said, it isn't their business but I'm proud to say I love you Harvey and Samantha is kind of right. If we had been honest before now, this wouldn't have happened."
"I don't care how this started anymore, I'm just glad it did because I love you Donna."
"You know something, that display in there sets you up perfectly to be Louis' peacock."
"I'm your peacock Donna," he smiled. "Now what do you say we get out of here?"
In the car he stoked up the courage to ask her to come home with him. They'd had Friday night plans after all.
"I'm more of a Saturday night type of girl. I think I should go home, we both should then we could pick up our plans tomorrow night. I really have to get out of this dress..."
"I could help with that," he said, his fingers on her waist.
"I'm sure you could, but good things come to those who wait Harvey."
"Is that a promise?"
"It sure is."
"I'll hold you to it," he said before directing Ray to call at Donna's apartment.
The tiredness of the yesterday had quickly subsided, becoming instead a low buzzing excitement that had steadily built throughout the day.
Returning home to her apartment last night, she'd felt a pang or regret that she hadn't let him bring her home, but stepping through the door thinking about the night ahead the following day, she knew she'd made the right decision.
She had felt herself blush when she made her way up the hall towards the bedroom, remembering how it had felt to have him lift her on to the little table, his mouth not leaving hers as his hands roved. She had straightened the table, gathering up her cardigan and entered the bedroom.
Immediately, she had been overcome by the sense of his presence here, even though they'd gone in separate directions. His cologne had still been on the air and a messy constellation of tiny translucent buttons had littered her carpet. She'd gathered them up, snapped a quick photo and sent it to him.
'Sorry...' she'd written, feeling anything but as she'd revelled in the memory of how very much she'd wanted him out of his shirt.
'I don't believe you.' He'd text back right away, 'but you can apologise properly tomorrow night. All night.' The thought of what that meant had made her legs go weak.
She'd been in the shower when her phone had buzzed first thing this morning. 'I love you Donna.' The simple sentiment written in black and white. It was the fourth time he'd told her that since two nights before and it felt no less amazing. It was easy to tell him she loved him too, now that there was nothing to stop her.
She'd screen grabbed it and sent it to Rachel. It hadn't taken long for her friend to call and she lost a happy hour gushing over how wonderful she felt.
She had returned to her apartment after a brief excursion into the city - Saturday shopping a rare treat - and she was now rummaging in her closet for all the accessories that accompanied her gala gown.
She didn't dwell on the feelings of sadness, of opportunities missed as she had every time she'd caught a glimpse of it until today. Her lack of courage that night no longer mattered. In seeing the gown and making his request, Harvey had given the garment a new lease of life and Donna intended to make the most of it.
She zipped herself into the gown with some difficulty - that bit about not being able to get out of the dress alone she had had planned had only been partially fictitious - and checked her reflection in the mirror.
Slightly self-consciously she smoothed her hair, slicked on some more gloss and clipped in the silver ear cuff she'd worn that night. She wondered as she shrugged into a light coat what Harvey would think. She remembered wanting to impress him that night and feeling so disappointed that he had missed it. She was glad to have a do over. This gown deserved to be seen by the man she'd worn it for.
She checked her tote, which she'd filled with overnight supplies - the essential kit for being Donna - and took a deep breath as she made her made to the sidewalk to catch her cab.
'I'm on my way,' she text him.
A strange frisson of nervousness ran through her. This was the first night of the new them...
Harvey smiled as he text her back, figuring he didn't have long to sort everything out. Why hadn't he started earlier? He was standing in his living room, fluffing a throw cushion for the third time before he caught sight of himself in the mirror and laughed.
She wouldn't care about the fluffiness of the throw cushions. This was the woman who'd been here a million times, this was Donna.
This was Donna. Coming here, as Donna. Not as his secretary, or Louis' or as COO, but as the woman he'd been crazy for since the beginning. It couldn't hurt to fluff that cushion one more time, right?
He went the oven, checked on the progress of the meal he was preparing: slow roasted beef in a rich wine sauce. He'd wanted to go fancy for the first night, for her.
He had wine ready for her arrival, one of his Dad's records playing in the background and the low setting sun filtered in through his panoramic windows. He went through to the bedroom, checking that everything was in order. The bed was freshly primped and looked inviting, though he didn't want to assume... but God, he wanted her.
He checked his appearance in the mirror, slicking back an errant strand of hair and smiled at the memory of that time she'd done that for him. He'd been due to meet Scottie, but just for second he'd contemplated seizing Donna's fingers and kissing them, kissing her.
'Past is past,' he thought to himself, startling slightly as right on cue, he heard a knock at the door. Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden?
'It's Donna,' he thought as he moved towards the door and as always, that was explanation tonight.
She was the first one to give in to the sheer happiness of being here as his invited guest, of being here as herself. She flashed him a broad smile, which seemed to ease the complex battle of emotions playing across his eminently readable face.
"Well," she said after long moments of silence passed and neither had moved. "That was a tough day."
"Uh,uh," he said "the firm is out there. In here it's just us. You and me," he added. He was still on the threshold, having made no move to invite her in.
"Then," she paused "do you think I could come in?"
He nodded, moving back slightly as she stepped into his apartment.
"Hey," he said, his voice dripping affection mixed with, what was that? Relief that she showed up maybe?
"Hey," she said. God, she wanted to touch him, to kiss him, but the moment seemed too fragile somehow.
"What do you have there?" he indicated her tote, sliding it from her arm.
"My glam kit," she said, feeling her chest tighten, her breath quicken. "That's if you want me to stay..."
"You're not leaving," he said, moving past her and heading for the door, which he bolted, as if to prove the point.
"There," he said when he was opposite her again.
"There," she murmured.
He was within reaching distance, but still she hesitated.
"Donna," he muttered, reaching between them and taking her hand. His fingers laced with hers, fingertips closing around her knuckles as he pulled her to him.
They both let out a gasp as they collided, the knot of the belt at her waist causing them to ricochet slightly. Their faces were close, their mouths millimetres apart. She became slightly emboldened by their proximity, moving her arms up to circle his neck. It was then that she realised he wasn't going to initiate. He was waiting for her to.
There was something that made her hesitate, just briefly. Perhaps the memory of being spurned before or his harsh words following the last time she had initiated. He seemed to sense this, slipping his hand to her waist, holding her fast.
"Harvey," she murmured, finally allowing her lips to press against his.
The moment they met all of her fears died away and all she could think about was that this was exactly what she always should have been doing with her life: kissing him.
Gone was the tentative kiss of last night, the one where she was subconsciously giving him an out, even as she clung to his shoulder. Her lips were firm against his, dispensing with niceties as her tongue declared her intention, but it was fine. His intention was the same. It was an urgent sort of kiss, as if their bodies were leading with the desperation they both felt to make up for lost years.
She wound herself around him, her tongue caressing his in languid strokes as he ran a hand through her hair, using the distraction to work the knot of her coat with his free hand.
She pulled back then, hearing his groan of protest as he did. "Patience," she said simply.
When he opened his eyes, he felt breathless with the intensity of her. She was looking at him in slight wonderment and he knew why.
"See," he said, running a finger along her cheekbone, "nothing bad happened. You kissed me and I didn't disappear, didn't push you away. I will never do that ever again."
"No," she said, peppering her way along his jaw, making her way back to his lips. "You won't," she said, seemingly testing the theory as she pressed another kiss to his mouth.
She pulled away again when the spots in her vision began to resemble a kaleidoscope and she felt a smile tugging at her lips. It felt so good. It was a simple thing, but being able to kiss him without fear was everything to her.
"Aren't you going to take your coat off?" he said after a while and she knew that not being able to see her was driving him crazy.
"Aren't you going to tell me what smells so delicious?"
He shook his head, but his face was full of mirth. "Dinner has to be worked for."
"Oh, well, why didn't you say?" she said, spotting the open bottle of wine and walking towards it. She knew Harvey knew how to rest a good red. She hoped he knew that didn't apply to her. "Why don't you take a seat Mr. Specter?" she indicated the couch.
His eyes sparkled as he watched her pour large measures before walking towards him. She handed him the glass, letting his fingers run a soothing pattern across her wrist for a moment, but then easing herself free of his grip. He made another noise of protest, muttering her name but made sure that his eyes never left her as she made her way back towards the door.
"You said you wished you'd been there, right?" she said, opening the hall closet where she'd hung his dry cleaning so many times before.
He nodded, taking a gulp of his wine.
"Well, picture this... I've just arrived. I don't really want to be here because I've had a long day and someone told me on the way over that you're not going to be here because you're working late on a case. I want to leave, to come back to the office - God knows you could use the help and I want to be there, because, well - things are still weird between us and I want to show up with a decanter of MacAllan in my hand. A peace offering..." she paused, taking a coat hanger from the closet.
"...but I don't, because things are weird between us and we don't have late night drinks in your office anymore and besides, I'm needed at the gala - there are clients to woo and so, I check my coat," she slid the coat off, glad to be out of it. It was hot in here and not just because of the lingering heat of the day or the fact that the oven was on. He was shooting her looks that had her temperature rising for a different reason. The lust between them was like a furnace, although neither of them had acknowledged it yet.
She turned to face him, watched as his jaw clenched and he resisted the urge to get up.
"I begin to move through the room," she said slowly making her way toward him, feeling like a Queen under his gaze. "There are so many people here and I get a couple compliments on my gown," she straightened it slightly as she said it, "but none of that matters. I'm talking to some of the partners, to clients but all I can think about is what you would think about the gown, what you would say if you could see me. I haven't told anyone this, but it was for you. I know how you feel about a woman in red. I want to see how you feel about me in red."
She was not far from him now, but she stopped short of him, her mind clearly conjuring the guests from that night.
"I'm talking to Samantha, she's making a comment about charities, saying something about strategy. I'm trying to concentrate but something, someone, has caught my eye. I could swear it was you... wait... it is you...but what are you doing over there on the edge of the party? You seem distracted, something's got your attention. I look back over my shoulder but I realise now... you're looking at me..." a blush crept onto her cheeks as she closed the distance between them slowly but surely.
"You're on your feet now," she said, watching as he did what she suggested. "I'm trying to play it cool, so I take my time getting to you. I flag down a waiter and take a glass of wine. She picked up her glass from the breakfast island.
She was inches from him now. "You know it's funny, suddenly it feels like we're the only ones here..." she half joked.
"I get to you and my heart is racing. You're here. You've surprised me and all I can say is 'hey'. You're quiet for a minute and I start to analyse that 'hey'. I can't tell what you're thinking. Even though I can always tell what you're thinking... then you say..."
There was a moment when she didn't think he'd play along but then his face relaxed and he said "I am such an idiot."
She laughed out loud at that. "Well, that's one way to win me over," she said, still laughing as he pulled her close to him, crashing his mouth onto hers. She held her glass aloof over his shoulder as she surrendered to the moment.
Several minutes had passed and she was feeling slightly pinch-drunk from his kiss.
"So," she said. "How did I do?"
"Oh, you took me there alright... I can hardly breathe..." he made a show of loosening his collar even though he was not wearing a tie. It was the first time she'd noticed that fact.
"Baby, you're not even close," she said, her hand ghosting down his chest, stopping just short of his belt.
He was done for. He knew that. This woman was everything to him. Everything he had been missing, everything he wanted. He drew her in for another light kiss. His hand gravitated to her waist and he stroked his fingers against the silk.
"So, do you like the gown then?"
He took a step back, indicating that she should turn around. She revolved slowly in the spot.
He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. "You should wear red more often," he said looking at the way the setting sun backlit her red hair, her red dress.
"I'll take note," she said.
"Was this really for me?" he asked taking in the silver cuff in her ear, the band of dusky pink silk that fit tightly across her breasts, the red sheath of silk that clung to her every curve.
"Who else would it have been for?" she said.
"I've been such a damned fool..."
"Harvey...we promised we wouldn't do this."
"I don't care. I feel like I could apologise to you every day forever and it would never be enough."
"The feeling is mutual, but we're here now. We're doing this."
"We are," he said, reaching for his glass and finishing the measure. She followed suit.
He collected their glasses putting them on the breakfast island.
"It's good to have you here Donna," he said after a while, watching her as she surveyed the layout of the apartment.
"I love this apartment," she said, going to the window, taking in the view.
"I love you in this apartment," he said and she was suddenly tingling all over.
He'd said it on Thursday night, had said it yesterday morning, he'd text it to her and yet, it still felt the first time all over again.
She threw a glance over her shoulder, spotted him checking the oven. "It's been a long time since someone cooked for me," she said.
"It's been a long time since I've had someone to cook for," he said. "Not too much longer."
"Come here," she said, waiting for him to join her.
He wrapped his arms around her middle, pulled her back against him. She swept her hair off her shoulder and was rewarded with his lips on her skin. "Mm.. I love you," she said.
"I love you too," there were those words again.
His hand was beginning to wander to her midriff, she was beginning to lose control. "How?" she ventured, knowing that this could be a painful question, reminding them both of a time when they'd nearly lost each other. She kept her voice light though, teasing as she slid her hand to his neck, turning her head towards him and tugging his lips with her teeth.
He cleared his throat, unafraid of this question now. "I love you for you, as you. Just as you are: Donna and all the many things that means you are. I love you as the woman I'm in love with..."
"Took you long enough," she quipped.
"Too long and I plan to tell you every day for the rest of our lives... if you'll have me."
"I'd very much like to have you Harvey..."
"My, my Ms. Paulsen, it's nice to be wanted."
Oh, you're wanted," she said as he turned her to face him, desire written plainly on her face. She cupped his cheek, kissing him again, her nails scratching slightly at his throat.
He could have given in then, he wanted to, but he also wanted to do tonight right and that started with dinner.
"Dinner will be in ten," he said, it was a reassurance that he knew how to treat her. "So, tell me, is dancing allowed at this non-gala?"
She smiled, watching as he went to his turntable and hiked the volume on the track that was playing.
"It's your party Harvey," she said, taking his hand and letting him spin her.
They swayed silently, their hands far from resting as they used the opportunity to explore one another, to cleave, to hold each other close.
Once again, she kissed him, deepening it the second she was able and letting herself moan into his mouth. She could tell how much he wanted her, but something was helping him practise restraint.
"Let's have dinner," he said, taking her hand and installing her at the island. She tried to help, but he waited on her hand and foot, providing a sumptuous meal.
Dinner rolled into more glasses of wine and, sitting side by side, they finally talked. At times it felt like the old them, but there was also a new and settled connection between them that meant they could say what they needed to and know that it was Ok. At one point she had shed some tears and he wiped them away.
"My God, we needed that didn't we?" he said as they drained the last of the wine.
"The wine or the talk?" she teased.
"The wine for the talk," he said.
"I'm glad we did Harvey. Talk I mean. I didn't think I wanted to but..."
"Me too," he said.
They were silent for a minute. "Coffee?" he said.
"You're really treating me tonight huh?"
"You deserve it," he said. "Besides you're going to want something to go with dessert."
"I don't think I want coffee with that..."
"You have a filthy mind Paulsen. I meant actual dessert. It's a good one."
"Ooh... mysterious... hey why don't you let me make the coffee?" she said, getting up and going to her tote.
"What do have in there?" he laughed as he reached into the refrigerator got dessert.
"Oh, my magic elixir..." she said waiting for the machine to brew the perfect coffee to which she swiftly add some shots of vanilla. She'd had a feeling she'd need it the syrup at some point with him.
"I never could get over how much better coffee tasted when you made it for me..."
"I'm a coffee genius..." she said, following him into the living room, noticing that he carried a large white box.
"Close your eyes," he said and she made to protest before obliging.
He lifted the lid on the box with a flourish.
"Open," he said.
Her smile was barely containable as her eyes fell on to a large strawberry cream cheesecake.
"Strawberries," she said.
"...and cream," he said.
"A sophisticated vintage..."
"I love it, thank you."
"I never forgot that night. I wanted you to know that."
"Neither did I," she said, taking a strawberry from the cake and biting into it.
The juice ran down her lip and he was on her, sucking it from her skin. Suddenly they were both thinking of another kind of dessert. The cheesecake could wait...
It was slightly awkward, her gown was not made for wearing whilst participating in strenuous activity and she struggled a little as he guided her towards him. He sank back against the cushions, which flattened the instant he laid back, laughing as he pulled her with him.
"What?" she said, kissing his jaw, his neck.
"It's just, before you got here, I spent a lot of time fluffing these cushions and now look at them..."
"Aw, you did that for little old me?" she said, her hands sliding down the front of him, beginning to work his buttons loose.
"You're Donna, the details matter to you."
"You're right," she said, leaning in to kiss his pulse point as she tugged his shirt down his arms, watching him wrestle his way out of it before feeling his hands settle on her again. One was cupping her bottom, kneading slightly whilst the other slipped to her zip. A moan rolled through her. God that felt good. "They do. Like the fact that you're wearing the same cologne you were wearing the day we met."
He smiled, glad she had noticed, not that she'd doubted he would. "What can I say? You've been it for me, for a long time."
"... and you for me," she said, her lips were trailing along his chest now, peppering his collarbone, her tongue pressing into his chiselled muscles.
"Mm..." he hummed watching as she dipped, her bottom in the air as she made her way to his navel.
Just as she reached his belt, she stopped, jumping up "Oh!" she said and he pushed himself up onto his elbows.
"I just remembered... I have something for you..."
"Mm hmm. You see, there is one part of this ensemble that no one else has seen."
"Uh huh, I went shopping this afternoon and I got something just for you..."
She heard his sharp intake of breath, watched as his muscles contracted.
"...but you see, I can't quite reach the zipper," she said making some feeble attempts to undo the gown.
"Can I help with that?" he played along, sitting up as she turned her back towards him.
"Not all the way Harvey. Just a little, then be a good boy and go put my tote in the bedroom," she said and he liked the way she was so sure of herself, making herself comfortable here.
"Don't tease me Donna," he said as he toyed with the zipper.
"Don't break the rules Harvey," she said, feeling his lips pressing against her upper spine.
"Go on," she said when she felt the zipper release a little.
He broke away from her reluctantly and stopped to pick up her tote.
"I'll be through in a minute," she said, watching him go.
When he had vacated the room and she could hear him moving around down the hall, she busied herself with removing the gown. It fell in one swift crumple and she stepped out of it. She quickly picked it up and slung it over the arm of the couch. Now it had had its second outing she'd have it dry-cleaned and sent to goodwill. When she'd kept it all those months ago, she'd tried to kid herself that a night like tonight wasn't the exact reason. She didn't have to kid herself anymore.
As she straightened, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and she had to admit, with her red hair slightly dishevelled and her lips kiss swollen, she looked damned good, even if she said so herself. She knew someone who would agree...
"Close your eyes," she called to him. "I need one minute"
He groaned but she chided him. "No cheating," she said, only entering after she'd given him sufficient time to actually close his eyes. She swiped her tooth brush quickly and ran through to the en-suite, freshening up.
She primped her hair a little before venturing back out. He'd done as she asked, she saw as she re-entered the room: he was standing obediently with his eyes shut.
She knew he knew she was there, witnessed the flex of his fingers as he tried not to grab for her the moment she was in reach.
"You can open your eyes now," she said, suddenly unsure what to do with her hands.
She barely had time to think as the intensity of what she saw when she looked into his eyes overcame her.
"Donna," her name was a growl, low and guttural as he took her in.
She was a revelation. Stood before him with her hands fidgeting but her smile confident, she wore only a red silk one piece and her heels.
He tried to speak, to find the words to describe what seeing her like this had done to him, but they failed him. A couple times, sounds formed in his throat but then died away. He felt his jaw clench and unclench and realised acutely that he must look like a goggle- eyed fish. He didn't care though. He just savoured the sight of her like this.
Her lip had rolled between her teeth and a proud smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She had rendered the great Harvey Specter speechless. That was no mean feat. After a while, his silence, his lack of any action started to make her nervous and she couldn't help but break the quiet between them.
He pressed his forefinger to her lips, hushing her words and moved slowly around her, the better to take in every detail.
The bustier was rich boned scarlet silk, clinging to her breasts and skimming her curves, petering to soft panties which hugged the globes of her bottom perfectly. He assessed the tiny eyelets down the front of the garment as he came to face her again, letting his fingertips graze them slightly but resisting the urge to undo them quite yet.
She was perfect, there was no possible alternative to describe this woman who had been so much to him for so long.
He brushed her hair back from her shoulders, the better to see the way the soft light from the table lamp bounced off of her collarbone.
He lent in close, feeling the delicious friction of the firm silk against his bare chest as he kissed her neck, making his way to her ear.
"You're beautiful," he murmured and a shiver ran through her, forcing her closer and causing her to grab on to him for balance.
He had moved lower now, his lips grazing her throat, her shoulder. His tongue went to work on the scented valley between her breasts and soon his mouth was teasing at the scalloped edge at the crest of her left breast.
She pushed herself up towards his mouth, feeling as well as hearing the groan he released against her skin.
"Mm..." she sighed, her fingers working into his hair, twisting and scratching at the shirt strands.
"Well," he said, straightening up and tugging another kiss from her lips. "That was one hell of a fashion show..." he said with a laugh.
"What if I told you it wasn't over yet?"
"You see, the show closes with an exclusive preview... audience of one..."
"You might want to take a seat for this," she indicated the foot of the bed.
"You see, it's called 'Donna in Nude', she said and she watched as his pupils dilated.
His hand had gone to his belt and he unbuckled it.
"Don't you dare Specter," she warned and he halted immediately, almost having to sit on his hands.
"'Donna in Nude' is an exclusive collection, designed for viewing by one man only," she said, popping the first eyelet.
"Its intention is to entice the audience, leaving him wanting," Two, three eyelets open now and a tantalising view of her breasts on display.
"The idea," she said watching as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. God, she loved this man and all his thinly veiled restraint. She kept her eyes on his as she unhooked the last eyelet, feeling the bustier crumple at her waist. Keeping her gaze steady, she began to push the garment down over her hips, "is to leave nothing to the imagination." The red silk pooled at her feet. "To lay everything bare," she finished, kicking the lingerie away.
She went to remove her heels, but his eyes darkened.
"Leave them," the words were almost a bark.
"So..." she said, running a hand over her body. "What do you think, was it a successful collection?"
"Get over here and we can discuss its many virtues," he said, clearing his throat.
She Donna-ed her way over to him and he grabbed her hand the second she was in reach, pulling her down onto him and feeling her bare flesh settle again him.
"Donna that was the sexiest damn thing I have ever seen..."
"At the House of Paulsen, customer satisfaction is our number one priority "she said, still playing along.
"Can I assume you'll be placing an order?"
"I'm in. For life. I'll be making a request to view 'Donna in Nude' every damn day. You sure you're up for that?"
"I think that could be arranged."
"Shall we discuss payment? What do you want Donna?"
"You know what I always wanted? What I was always curious about? Every time I came here, all I ever wanted to know was what it would feel like to be made love to in Harvey Specter's California King..."
"By Harvey Specter I assume," he said, jostling her until his lips had access to her breasts. He slipped them down the silken flesh of her right breast until his teeth caught her peak.
"Oh! No, actually," she said barely able to remember the question. "By George Clooney, but since you're here..." she teased, gasping at the pleasure-pain he was causing her with his skilled mouth.
"Well, then..." he squeezed her hips guiding her to standing and regretting the loss of contact.
"My California King is your California King," he said, turning down the comforter and watching as she slipped into his bed, making her way to the centre. Now that was a sight he could get used to.
He made quick work of his pants, feeling the ridiculous tenting of his underwear more acutely when he heard her giggle.
"This is your fault Paulsen," he said as he looked down at her looking up at him.
She loved that fact, loved that she had that effect on him. In fact, the knowledge of it made her hot. She felt an increasing throbbing at her core, almost as if she had a second heartbeat, one that was only for him.
He watched her in amused amazement as she shifted and struggled with her self-control on the bed before him. She was glorious: lithe and lush and his for the taking, but a wicked notion had settled in his mind.
"You know, I am in physical pain over here -pain of your making. You know how you can make it up to me?"
She locked eyes with him, recognising the self-gratified look on his face he always got when he was about to win at trial. "How?"
"Show me," he said, his words dark.
"I want you to show me how you want to be made love to, what you want me to do."
"Harvey come on..."
"Go on," he urged, already tugging at his underwear.
She didn't need to be told twice. Her body was so sensitive, her need so great that to not do as he asked right now would only hurt her more.
She kept her eyes on him as she slid a hand to her left breast. She knew her own hand would not be enough but she maintained eye contact with him, watching what he did next.
Having discarded his underwear he was slowly pleasuring himself, gazing at her adoringly and that, that was almost enough.
"God," she muttered incoherently, sliding her hand down over her torso, gliding over the curve of her hip before slipping it to the apex of her thighs.
It was hard to maintain eye contact with him, all she really wanted to was close her eyes, succumb to the sensation of pleasure which rolled through her, but the image of him continuing his long languid strokes was too good to miss.
She cried out as her finger brushed against the most sensitive part of herself. It was no good, she couldn't do it for herself anymore, not since she had been re-Specter-ed two nights ago.
"Harvey," she moaned, rolling her head against her arm in frustration. "Harvey, please... please..."
He was close, but he knew his own attentions were no match for the warm softness of her. Seeing her like that, desperate and wanton, the only thing he wanted to do was lose himself in her.
He sprang onto the bed with the agility of a man far his junior and found himself easily cradled by her body as she opened her legs for him.
"You are hotter than hell Donna," he said, his lips descending onto hers as he hung above her for a moment. "I feel like a damned teenager..."
"I hope you're bringing Harvey Specter the man to this bed..."
"Never send a boy to do a man's job. Especially when that job is making love to a beautiful woman..."
"That's what I like to... Oh!" she cried out as he thrust into her in one swift motion, unable not to be inside her for a moment longer.
"Now," she said as their lips met again. "Now you're there."
Her leg instantly looped around his waist, her body tilting to accommodate him and she slid her foot along his backside, forgetting for a moment that she was still wearing heels, until she felt him pull back.
"God damn heels," he muttered.
She stroked her hand against the back of his neck.
"You wanted me to keep them on. Besides, you know what this means now? You're marked, you're mine. I own your ass Specter."
He smiled, staring at her adoringly. "Tell me something I don't know Paulsen," he said after which there were no words, just sounds and two bodies knowing each other instinctively.
It was a while later and they were both too wired to sleep but too spent to move. She was curled against him, her head on his chest, her fingers drawing patterns on his skin.
He brushed a kiss to her hairline. "You really raised the bar tonight Donna," he said.
"Oh I know," she said in her confident way. "You know, I am going to expect Magic Mike levels of performance from you now."
He angled his head so that their eyes met. He was unsure of how serious she was. Her expression was set, but her eyes were playful.
"We both know I don't dance, unless it's with you."
She kissed his chest. "Baby, we both know you've been dancing to the beat of my drum for years and if I say dance, you'll dance."
"We'll see about that."
"Hmm..." she hummed and they were silent again for a while.
"You know what I feel like?" she said and he kissed her shoulder, stroking his way along it.
"Round two?" he said.
"No, not that... well yes, maybe that... but before that, I kind of feel like cheesecake."
He laughed but let her get up, following her as she exited the bed and headed for the door completely naked.
She headed for the coffee table, picking up the knife. He headed for the refrigerator.
"What're you doing Harvey?" she said plating a slice and walking toward him with a fork in her hand.
"Would you look at what I found..." he feigned surprise, holding a can towards her.
She ignored him for a moment, sliding the fork through the cake and helping herself to a bite. She savoured the rich taste.
His hand was on her lower back, pulling her close and she collided with his hardness again, letting out a moan. He kissed her, incredibly turned on by the taste of strawberry in her mouth.
His free hand uncapped the can and he stood back a little, surveying her like a canvas. Her eyes flashed. He broke the seal on the can, proving the theory that this moment was no coincidence and held it in a downward trajectory before spraying some cream on to each nipple in ample swirls.
She raised herself towards his mouth. He wasted no time in sucking the cream from her.
"What do you say? You feel like going retro?" he hiked her up onto the breakfast island, knowing her answer and set to work on his masterpiece.
Sunday had passed in a blur of breakfast in bed, a long, sexy shower and their first official lunch date. The evening had taken place sans-clothes against the window, on his couch, in his bed.
All too soon, it was Monday and as Donna made her way through her first batch of papers, she wondered how she was going to ever concentrate on work again.
Mid-morning Gretchen appeared.
"Gretchen, what can I do for you?"
"I have a personal delivery," the other woman said, holding an envelope toward her. "I'm supposed to tell you 'when the drum beats'... I'm guessing you know what that means."
Donna blushed and thanked Gretchen, waiting for her to leave. It didn't appear that was going to happen.
The envelope contained two tickets to an off- Broadway showing of Magic Mike and another ticket sized slip.
'Saturday, Magic Mike after party, starring Harvey Specter in a limited run. Admit one,' it read.
She knew her cheeks must be crimson by now. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than for this week to be over.
Gretchen stole a peek. "Oh, you got it bad Red, she said, chuckling to herself as she left the room.
Yes, Donna thought. She did.
Phew! I seemed to get on a roll with this one after a couple of months of knowing that I'd promised this.
Eek.. Harvey does Magic Mike... not sure if I'm brave enough for that one, maybe one of you are...
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.
Let me know what you thought.