Archive of Our Own

The hotel lobby smelled like chocolate and expensive perfume.

It was a beautiful space. Soft lighting, marble floors, and floral arrangements every few feet to remind the numerous guests walking through of which holiday was upon them.

Donna, herself, had almost managed to forget that it was Valentine’s Day, and she wasn’t supposed to be here, at a Ritz in Boston of all places.

But Harvard’s Law School had sponsored a legal conference this weekend and had invited the firm to speak. Specter Litt needed the PR after the whole debacle of removing Jessica’s name, so it had seemed like a good idea when she’d brought it to Harvey’s attention.

He’d agreed to go.

However, Louis was spiraling over whatever drama was still going on with Sheila and Mike and Rachel were already halfway into a long weekend of holiday romance, which had left her, Donna Paulsen, COO, the only one with enough authority and availability to accompany Harvey on the firm’s behalf.

A few years ago, the chance to escape the city on the firm’s dime for a day of being wined and dined by lawyers, while teasing Harvey about having to schmooze it up with old professors, might have been something to look forward to.

This year was different.

This year, their relationship had strained. Changed. Nearly detonated. And they were still rebuilding it, brick by brick since that kiss. Since Paula Agard. Since their fight, her resignation, and everything that had followed.

Donna stared at Harvey while they stood in line, waiting to check in behind several couples who were holding hands, leaning close, or speaking with obvious intimacy. She wondered if, to anyone passing by, that’s what the two of them looked like, too.

Harvey was standing close enough that she could catch hints of his cologne, though that was probably more to do with a desire not to be bumped by the people walking by than anything intentional. Not that anyone was getting too close to him.

He looked dashing as ever in the black suit he wore, but his expression was one of stone. Donna, who knew him better than she knew herself most days, knew it was the exhaustion of the day weighing on him. The travel, the conference…his social battery was shot.

He’d removed his tie in the rental car after the event had ended an hour ago and his jacket was also hanging open, the top few buttons of the shirt underneath loosened enough to show a hint of his chest.

She didn’t doubt he was ready to get upstairs and get dressed down for bed. She also couldn’t wait to change into the comfortable silk pajamas folded neatly in her little travel bag. The gown she wore was strappy and gorgeous, but she’d been in heels all day and they were starting to bother her feet.

“They picked a hell of a weekend for this,” Harvey muttered when the line moved forward slightly. One of his hands rested on the handle of his own rolling luggage, the other was in his pocket where Donna imagined his fingers were clenched with impatience.

She smirked, “I thought you said earlier that you were glad we came?”

“The conference was fine,” he admitted, “But we should have gotten our flight back for tonight.”

“You’re having lunch with your family tomorrow,” she reminded him, “Otherwise, we would have.”

He grumbled something incoherent but didn’t protest further. He was working on his relationship with his mother still, and it seemed to be going well, but Donna knew better than to press him about it.

She was happy though, when he’d told her on their flight that Marcus had invited him over for lunch with the entire family. It would be good for him and despite the casual way he’d dropped the information, as though it were nothing of import, she could tell he was looking forward to it. 

After another couple of minutes, it was their turn to step up to the front desk.

“Checking in?” the concierge smiled with a mask of professionalism, fingers skimming over the keyboard in front of him.

“Yeah, reservation under Specter,” Harvey said, resting his arm on the polished countertop.

The man typed away, and nodded, “Harvey Specter? Yes. I have you in the ambassador suite. Will you be needing one key card or two?”

Donna blinked and Harvey looked back at her, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“It should be two rooms,” she told the employee. She’d made the booking herself. “The Ambassador suite and a King suite.”

Harvey turned toward the guy again, waiting as he double checked the screen.

“It looks as if the Ambassador was reserved with our loyalty program, but there’s a hold on the other,” he said after a pause, “One moment.”

He picked up the phone next to the monitor and dialed out. Harvey sighed and Donna resisted the urge to tap her foot against the floor.

“I’m so sorry,” the concierge addressed them again after a short conversation, “It appears the room was double booked in our system due to the holiday traffic and both guests on the reservation were upgraded to the same room.”

As if the day couldn’t get any longer.

“Is there another room available?” Donna asked, “I don’t mind if it’s not a suite.”

The employee had perfected the apologetic customer service expression; she had to give him that.

“It is Valentine’s Day, so unfortunately we are fully booked for the night,” he said, “I could try to call the Marriot and see if they have any availability, but this is usually a busy time for everyone-”

“Of course it is,” Harvey huffed, turning from the desk with annoyance.

Donna understood the feeling but had it in her to feel bad for the worker.

“The ambassador suite is very spacious,” he rushed to say, “There’s a fold-out sofa in the sitting room of it.”

“A fold-out,” Harvey repeated, and the guy nodded.

Silence fell between them for a moment and Donna was convincing herself not to panic when Harvey looked her way.

She found it suddenly difficult to read his expression.

“You okay with that?” he asked as she met his gaze.

It’s fine, she tried to convince herself, aware of the employee looking at her with hope and the line that was forming behind them. We’re adults. We’ve known each other for years. And it isn’t as if we haven’t fallen asleep together in the same room before.

She fought the blush that threatened to twinge her cheeks at that particular memory, and nodded her head, “I can handle a sofa.”

Harvey studied her for a second longer and she wondered if he was thinking about the same thing she was.

He nodded, “We’ll take it.”

The concierge’s relief was immediate, “Wonderful. We’ll credit your account for the other room, and I’ll have extra pillows sent up right away.”

Donna accepted the key card he handed her, fingers closing over the cool plastic while the guy ran through the usual spiel about checkout times and the in-room breakfast option for loyalty members.

She and Harvey said nothing else as they parted, rolling their suitcases toward the elevators so they could ride up to their floor.

The Ambassador Suite was at the very end of a long hallway on the top floor. Donna, who had gained a few steps lead, despite being the one in heels, stopped when she reached the door and scanned her card on the reader.

She pushed the door open, and Harvey’s hand came up against the wood over her head, holding it so she could pull her bag inside.

She crossed the threshold, then stopped short.

“Um…this is the right room?” she asked.

Harvey’s back was to her, closing the door, “Yeah, 1013A. Why do y-”

He’d turned, his eyes landing on exactly what hers had and Donna had to stifle a laugh at the shock that colored his face.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Rose petals were scattered along the floor of the entrance, a path leading through the sitting lounge to the open space beyond where she’d be willing to bet the bed was in no better condition.

Half in amusement, half in disbelief, she let go of her bag and walked through the room, around the partial corner where the suite opened up to the bedroom.

Her hand came up to cover her mouth, barely catching the huff of laughter that escaped her.

The rose petals made a heart on the bed and in its center was a tray of chocolates, two flutes, and a bottle of champagne on ice.

“For the record,” she said as Harvey appeared behind her, “I did not order this.”

He snorted, his face carrying his own disbelief as he shook his head and began to shrug out of his suit jacket.

Once he had, he tossed it on the end of the bed, sending a few petals flurring up, and reached over to check the label on the bottle.

“Not even the good kind,” he muttered, then glanced back at her, “Did you know Louis swears he can taste the difference between this and the stuff that actually comes from the Champagne region of France?”

Now she was the one snorting, “That’s the least surprising thing I’ve heard today.”

“What’s the most?” he taunted, the hint of a smirk appearing on his lips.

But it fell just as quickly.

He averted his gaze, straightening, and it was a little too easy to notice the silence that crept between them. The air that was so very close to awkward, given the circumstances and the set up around them.

It never used to be this way.

Once, they would have laughed at the absurdity of the evening. Harvey would have insisted on opening the bottle, making a mess all over the bed no doubt, and they would have exchanged barbs heavy with innuendo until one of them grew tired enough to go shower and get ready for bed.

Instead, the quiet was a reminder of how much things had shifted over the last several months and heated moments flickered through Donna’s mind, angry words she’d been doing her best to forget.

We smile, we drink, we flirt-

That doesn’t mean I want more. 

I didn’t feel anything when I kissed you, Harvey. 

I sacrificed more than just business this week.

That last one still stung, if she were being honest. In fact, the entire situation was still a raw ache that kept her up some nights, despite the fact that Harvey had chosen her, in the end.

Harvey cleared his throat, resting the bottle back against the ice before gesturing toward the sitting room.

“I’ll take the fold-out.”

Donna blinked in surprise, pushing back the mess of emotions that had been threatening to surge with her memories, “You are going to sleep on the sofa?”

“Well, I’m not gonna sleep on the floor.”

She arched a brow, “I didn’t think your back would survive a night without a mattress worth at least five thousand dollars.”

Harvey rolled his eyes, but she caught the smirk on his lips as he pulled his suitcase over to a small table set up by a large window, “I’ve slept on worse.”

“Oh, I know,” she laughed, “And the last time you did, you complained for three days.”

“That was a chair,” he argued, taking a seat at the table and unzipping his bag to remove his company laptop.

“And the fold out is an industry standard hotel sofa that your feet are going to hang off of,” she pointed out.

He fired up the laptop and glared playfully at her over the top of it, “Which is exactly why I’m taking it. You’d never let me hear the end of it if I made you sleep on it.”

The tease in his voice eased the tension that had grown in her chest and Donna smiled a little, “Such a martyr.”

“Just promise not to snore or I’m smothering you with a pillow.”

Her smile grew and she kicked off her heels, “Don’t worry, Harvey. I know how much you value your beauty sleep.”

The next couple of minutes felt almost normal. Harvey was typing away on his computer; probably responding to emails or follow ups from the event, and Donna had sunk onto the edge of the bed with the remote for the large television mounted across the room, picking at the hotel-provided chocolate.

There was still a comfort to this, at least. Two people who had known each other as long as they had, who had worked side by side for more than a decade. Existing next to one another, each focused on their own thing, no expectations, no agenda. It was funny that they worked best when they weren’t trying to work at all. 

Donna skipped past another rom com, bored with the entertainment options at her disposal. A Nicolas Sparks movie. Something from Hallmark. A nature documentary about tapir in the Amazon. 

Porn.

Her finger fumbled on that one and she stiffened as a cry of ecstasy rang out through the room.

Okay. It wasn’t actually porn, but the impossibly tan and perfect looking couple on the screen were doing very little acting and a hell of a lot of writhing around while strategically placed sheets did the bare minimum to keep from showing everything.

“I thought you usually had to pay to get access to that stuff,” Harvey commented, making Donna jump.

Oh, sure, that had gotten his attention.

She turned off the television just as the guy began to kiss down the front of the woman’s chest, exposing sideboob and the hint of one nipple.

“Maybe whoever had the room last splurged on the weekend subscription,” she reasoned, well aware of how pink her cheeks must be turning.

Harvey made a face, “That’s disgusting."

“Oh, don’t pretend to clutch your pearls over there, mister,” she shot him a look, “I’m sure you’ve watched worse.”

“I’ve done worse,” he clarified, and god, didn’t she know it. “But that doesn’t mean I want to think about some guy jacking it on the bed I was supposed to sleep on.”

Donna fought a smile, “Sure you don’t want the bed back?”

“Nope,” he looked back down at his screen, “Me and the couch will be quite happy tonight.”

“Assuming the guy didn’t also jack it over there,” she muttered and felt the glare Harvey shot at her.

She laughed, then reached back for the champagne. If they were stuck here for the night with this god-awful holiday mocking them, then she might as well make the most of it.

The bottle was a screw top and she managed not to spill any at all as she opened it and filled one of the glasses.

After one bubbling sip, she crooked her head, “Do you think people do that? Get a hotel just to rent porn and spend a weekend alone?”

Harvey chuckled under his breath and closed the laptop.

“If they do,” he stood, walking over to her, “They’re having an even worse weekend than we are.”

Donna leaned back on the pillows, smirking, “I don’t think it’s been that bad of a weekend. Gerard was the only professor not falling at your feet today, and the press there is going to give the firm some much needed positive PR.”

Harvey dropped down on the edge of the mattress next to her and reached over her legs to grab the bottle and the other flute.

“It could have been worse,” he agreed, filling his own glass and taking a sip, “At least there’s complimentary alcohol.”

“And chocolate,” she nodded, reaching to grab another one, “The one saving grace of this holiday.”

She didn’t miss the way Harvey’s eyes dropped to her lips as she took a bite of the sweet square.

“I thought you liked this shit,” he said, meeting her gaze again, “Flowers, wine, dates, romance…and didn’t you buy a new pair of earrings just for a Valentine’s dinner a few years ago?”

Donna wasn’t sure if she was impressed or a little bothered that he remembered such a small detail that she’d once briefly mentioned.

“That was different,” she swallowed down her emotions, “He had made reservations at Le Bernardin. Their rhubarb alone was worthy of new jewelry.”

She popped the rest of the chocolate in her mouth as the corner of Harvey’s mouth lifted, and it was entrancing, the way his smile could make the entire room feel lighter.

He hadn’t smiled as much lately; or at least, she hadn’t been around to see it.

But she was determined for things to get back to normal between them. Even if normal had never quite looked like this.

A hotel room, hundreds of miles from home. Her feet bare. His forearms flashing with the way he’d rolled up his sleeves. That inquisitive stare that felt just a little too heavy as the champagne warmed her stomach.

God, it really was unfair, how beautiful he was. It was unfair that he knew it. Had often used his looks like a weapon against unsuspecting women and she wished she could say she’d been immune, but that would be a lie.

And she’d done enough lying lately.

I didn’t feel anything when I kissed you, Harvey! Whatever I thought might be there, wasn’t.

It hadn’t felt like a lie at the time. It had felt like survival.

Because he had been angry and their friendship had been on the brink of no return, so how was she supposed to tell him the truth?

That kissing him had felt like falling into bed at the end of a long day; a loud exhale and a sense of finally. After years of uncertainty and maybe and only-if, she’d kissed him. Then, for a fraction of a second, he’d leaned in, and it had felt like coming home.

But that emotion had been short-lived because the terror quickly followed; right on the heels of the breathtaking clarity that loving Harvey Specter wasn’t some distant hypothetical anymore.

She loved him.

She was in love with him. In her chest, her heart, her very bones.

That’s what she’d felt when she’d kissed him and it had overwhelmed her to the point of tears and she’d walked away.

She shouldn’t have walked away. Hell, sometimes she wonders if she should have even pulled away from the kiss.

Would he have stopped it? Or deepened it? And if he had?

If they’d fucked right there on her desk and said to hell with the consequences, would he have still tried to claim that all of their back and forth meant nothing?

I’m human, Donna. What do you think it did to me?

Wanting each other had never been their problem.

Even now, she felt that familiar buzz lighting across her skin as Harvey’s eyes met hers, as dark and tempting as the chocolate on her tongue.

He was so close. That prodding stare. The mole above his brow. The stubborn line of his jaw that softened as she studied him. He brought the champagne flute to his lips, as if he were suddenly thirsty, and she noted the veins faintly visible beneath the skin of his hands. His throat contracted when he took a sip.

Her eyes followed the motion, and he noticed her noticing.

He lowered his glass and didn’t look away.

She couldn’t read him as well anymore, and the thought made her uncomfortable. Or maybe it was just that she no longer trusted her assessment when it came to him. That expression on his face could almost be interpreted as something dangerously close to desire.

She’d seen it in his eyes before.

You know I love you, Donna.

Her heart thudded hard against her ribs as Harvey sat his now empty glass down on the tray. He picked up a chocolate and held it out, an offering.

She nodded, lifting her hand, but it wasn’t even halfway up before he brought the square to her lips.

It felt like a dare, the way he watched her, and she slowly let her jaw fall open.

Chocolate. Champagne. And the barest hint of Harvey on her tongue. He was slow when he drew his hand back, her lips closing around his finger for the smallest of moments and his eyes flared.

He shifted. His empty hand grazed the bare calf that the slit in her dress had left exposed

Donna’s breath caught and she sat up so fast the champagne in her glass nearly sloshed over the rim. She sat it down on the nightstand the moment her feet were beneath her; probably with a little more force than necessary.

“I…I need to shower,” she said. It was a lame excuse, but she was going to spontaneously combust if she didn’t put some distance between them.

Or worse, she’d end up saying or doing something that she’d regret and this time, they may not be able to come back from it.

Harvey frowned slightly, “Donna-”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” she said quickly, already turning away.

She didn’t give herself time to think or to look at him again. For all she knew, she was imagining the spark that had danced along her skin at his accidental touch, and this was the worst time to try and analyze any of it, when they were unable to escape each other for the night.

She went to the bathroom, clicking the door shut behind her and resting her back against it like Harvey might have followed her.

He hadn’t.

He never did.

On the other side of the door, Harvey heard the water turn on but remained perched on the edge of the bed, eyes fixated on the wooden frame that Donna had disappeared through.

The room immediately felt too big. Too quiet. Like her presence was a life of its own, filling all the crevices.

The air had shifted the moment that bathroom door clicked shut.

It had been a good day. That was the frustrating part, wasn’t it? They’d gone to the event that Donna insisted would be good for the firm and she was right, as usual. The conference had gone well; the small speech he’d given had landed; earning a few laughs. He’d shaken hands with old classmates and traded horror stories of the profession with a few old professors and other people from the industry that he’d met in passing.

Nobody mentioned Jessica or any of the other bullshit that had been going on since the firm’s rebranding. For the first time in too damn long, the floor beneath his feet had felt steady again.

And Donna had been right there at his side, absolute perfection.

She was poised and brilliant. She had a way about her that drew others in, made them want to impress her. She sipped her wine and laughed at the perfect moments, laid casual hands on arms to flatter and winked at him behind over talkative backs. She’d teased and read the room with an ease he was sometimes jealous of.

Those Harvard bastards were eating out of the palm of her hand from the moment they each had the opportunity to shake it, and for a short time, none of the bullshit from the last few months had mattered.

They were managing partner and COO of Specter Litt. Professionals who were good at what they did and were even better when they did it together.

Then some smug asshole with a charming smile and one brandy too many had overstepped. His flirting had been as lewd as his lingering gaze and Harvey had wanted to punch him in the face as he’d sidled up to Donna with suggestive words that toed the line of appropriate.

She’d handled it with confidence, of course, turning the thinly veiled sexist jabs into a playful, professional banter that had eased some of the tension.

But Harvey had hated it. Not because she couldn't handle herself; she could run circles around assholes like that, but because the bastard had been so brazen right in front of him. As if he hadn’t been standing right there at her side.

For all the guy knew, Donna could have been there with him, and it hadn’t mattered.

Harvey had realized after the fact that it was a ridiculous thing to be pissed about.

He and Donna were not together.

But that hadn’t stopped irritation from settling deep in his chest, souring his mood slightly as they’d left the event.

He’d told himself it was exhaustion. Valentine’s Day and corporate bullshit coinciding too closely together. Just residual tension that hadn't quite worked itself out yet.

And the damn day didn’t seem to want to end.

The room fiasco.

The goddamn rose petals.

The look in Donna’s eyes as she’d bolted from the room like she was escaping a fire…

A buzzing noise distracted him from his thoughts and Harvey turned to see Donna’s cell phone still there on the mattress, a few inches from where she’d been laying.

The screen lit up brightly against the sheets and he read the name on the call screen without meaning to.

Mark.

Nothing else. No other identifiable hints. No last name.

Just Mark.

Harvey frowned and resisted the urge to pick the damn thing up.

It wasn’t any of his business and there was no point in pissing Donna off just to satiate his own curiosity.

Maybe it was a work thing. A client. Maybe it was some cousin she hadn’t told him about.

Or maybe it was some guy she’d met last week who she’d invited home and slept with, calling her up for a second date.

It was Valentine’s Day, after all.

The thought bothered him a hell of a lot more than he wanted to admit. When Donna had agreed to come, he’d just assumed she didn’t have any weekend plans.

But what if she had? Did she cancel on this guy to come with him to Boston? Would she have done that for him?

Not for you, he reminded himself, For the firm.

Donna had just as much stake in Specter Litt as he did, so maybe she’d rearranged her plans in order to attend this event.

Something clenched at Harvey’s chest. A dangerous satisfaction he had no right to feel, because he shouldn’t be happy about it; he shouldn’t feel good at the thought of Donna choosing to be here, with him, over a possible-

You have got some nerve saying that to me when you know I have put you over me for years.

The memory dried up whatever joy her choice might have given him.

I’m the person that you call at six in the morning. Or at midnight when you need someone. We smile. We drink. We flirt.

The rest played out in his mind like a splash of cold water to the face. Donna telling him that she hadn’t felt anything when she kissed him.

It should have been a relief. Confirmation that both knew where they stood. A clear line in the sand.

Our lines are as blurry as lines can get.

He hadn’t been able to sleep the night after she’d kissed him. He definitely hadn’t slept after she’d told him it hadn’t meant anything for her either.

It shouldn’t have bothered him. Or made him so sick that he’d bordered on another panic attack when he realized the memory of that damn kiss just proved that Paula wasn’t the one, days before her ultimatum had brought an official end to their relationship.

Because Donna is?

Mike had voiced the question that Harvey himself still wrestled with. One he still didn’t have an answer for.

Her phone lit up again, a text this time and he clenched his fist to keep from reaching for it.

Did really matter if the guy was a canceled date or not. Donna was here. With him. And selfishly, he was glad she was, because the alternative wasn’t something he wanted to imagine.

A version of this night where Donna was in New York, wearing the same black silk gown she had on tonight, her back and shoulders exposed while laughing across a candlelit table from whoever the hell this guy was.

The thought of her flirty smile being aimed at another man, someone else taking up her time and attention…

His jaw tightened and frustration blurred into something hotter. Sharper. This exact emotion was why he kept choosing distance over honesty.

The phone was in his hand before he could stop himself and another message notification popped up on the screen.

“Damn it,” he muttered, fully aware he was acting like a jealous asshole with absolutely no right to be one. He also knew he probably deserved the hell he was going to get for this, but he unlocked the sliding screen anyway.

It wasn’t hard. Donna had used the same pin for as long as he could remember.

Guess you’re ignoring my call. The first message stared up at him and Harvey frowned, his eyes scanning down the chat. Maybe you don’t want to talk to me, but I have to tell you the truth, Donna. Seeing you last month messed me up. I know you felt the same thing I did over that lunch. That old spark is still there.

Harvey’s chest went tight as another message popped up, vibrating in his hand.

I keep thinking about that night after, when you showed up at my hotel room, and how beautiful you looked. I know was wrong to put you in that position. I know that. But I meant what I said. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.

His grip tightened around the phone and the room felt warm; too warm, blazing to an inferno when the last message came through.

I filed for divorce last week. I’m in the city tonight and I want to see you. No excuses this time. Please, Donna. Call me back.

It didn’t matter how many times he reread the words, they didn’t change, and Harvey felt something dark and volatile turn his stomach. Lunch last month? Old spark? Hotel room?

I filed for divorce last week.

His breathing shallowed as too many pieces connected, and he was on his feet before he had thought through what he was doing. Because he refused to believe it.

Donna couldn’t…This man, whoever he is, was married.

Donna wouldn’t do that.

She kissed you, his brain reminded him, And she knew you were with someone.

Three long strides and he’d crossed the room, his knuckles rapping sharply against the bathroom door. He could hear the water on the other side, could feel the heat of the steam through the wood.

“Donna,” he called her name, not entirely sure what he was even doing, but it didn’t matter. The door opened, quicker than he anticipated, and he didn’t have it in him to pretend like he didn’t care about what he’d read.

“What happened last month?” he demanded, the moment the door cracked. The words left his mouth, then his brain caught up to the vision in front of him.

Donna was still in her dress, the fabric clinging to her thanks to the steam, but her hair was down now, the curls loose and framing her face.

A face that had mascara marks running down the cheeks. 

What the- “Donna?”

He stepped into the bathroom as she backed up.

“I-I was just about to get in,” she said, crossing her arms. Her jaw set stubbornly, as if pretending she hadn’t been upset, “What do you want?”

“Why are you crying?” he asked, his brows furrowing.

Donna shook her head, a shaky laugh escaping her, “That’s not what you came in here to ask me.”

“No, I…” he faltered, unsure how to broach the subject, or even if he should, and while he floundered, Donna’s gaze dropped to his hand.

“Is that my phone?”

Harvey swallowed and nodded, giving the thing over when she held out her hand for it.

“You got a text,” he told her.

She frowned and unlocked her screen. He watched as her eyes scanned it and noted when her flushed skin paled.

But when she looked back up at him…yeah, she was pissed.

“You read this?” she demanded, though the answer was obvious.

“I saw it,” it was hard to meet her gaze, “I…I didn’t-”

“You asked me what happened last month,” she said, straightening like his intention had just dawned on her. Those red-rimmed eyes narrowed.

“You asked me what happened,” she repeated, “So clearly you read the messages. And what? Decided to come interrogate me?”

Harvey exhaled slowly, “No, I didn’t come in here to interrogate you-”

“It sure as hell sounded like it!”

“Yes,” he shot back, frustration breaking through, “I read the message, okay? But this isn’t an interrogation. I just wanted to know if you really-”

He stopped himself, but it was too damn late. Donna’s eyes flashed and he knew she’d heard what he hadn’t said anyway.

“If I what?” she asked, each word carefully dropped, the tone ice cold, despite the balmy temperature of the room that was making sweat roll down her chest and between her breasts. Breasts that were heaving with each breath as the two of them stared each other down, and Harvey’s own shirt was starting to stick to his back.

“Did you sleep with him?” he forced the words out, his tone matching hers, the accusation ugly and heavy.

Donna laughed, but there was no humor in the sound.

“Wow,” she said, and the tears filling her eyes again shamed him, “So this is where we are?”

Harvey grit his teeth together, unsure how to answer her.

She made a face at his silence, before turning red with anger, “What does it matter to you? What I do, who I do it with? What makes you think you get a say in it?”

He recoiled, “That’s not what I-”

“You were dating Paula,” she cut him off, the tears falling from her eyes now, “So I don’t know why you’re pretending to care if I saw someone else.”

He raked a hand through his hair, confusion and guilt tangling in his throat, “I care that you went to a married man’s hotel room. And for what, to….to get back at me or something?”

Her laugh this time was borderline hysterics, “Oh, you arrogant bastard-”

“Donna-”

“His name is Mark. My ex. The one who broke up with me on our six-month anniversary because I wouldn’t put him over my job.” She took a breath like she was trying not to scream, but her whole body was vibrating, “Because I wouldn’t put him over you.”

Harvey stiffened and she took a step closer, lifting a finger and shoving it right into his chest. Her touch was like electricity, burning straight through him.

“A man I could have seen myself marrying one day,” she continued, “And I still chose you. I chose our firm. I chose my job on your desk. I chose you, you asshole! And it never mattered!”

Her lip trembled and pain that had nothing to do with how hard she was jabbing her nail into his pec filled his chest.

“So, yeah,” she seethed, “When you made it perfectly clear you were moving forward with Paula, I called Mark. We had lunch and it was nice. Familiar. I didn’t find out he was married until after,” her jaw twitched as she clenched it, “And he told me he wasn’t happy with her. He told me he wanted me to come to his hotel.”

Shame rose up again, like bile in his throat, “Donna-”

She shook her head. “I didn’t sleep with him. I didn’t. I almost did, and it would have been the worst mistake of my life. But I didn’t do it.”

Her eyes were blazing when they lifted back to his and Harvey hated the relief that her admission filled him with.

“But even if I had,” she said fiercely, her finger dropping, “You don’t get to stand here and judge me for it.”

“I’m not,” he squeezed his hand into a fist to resist reaching out to her, “I just needed to…understand.”

It was the best way he could think of to describe the way the thought of her doing something so foul twisted him up inside. Because she was better than that. So much better. And she deserved…fuck, she deserved to be put first. Always.

Donna shrugged and the movement was so small, it broke his heart.

“You didn’t want me,” she whispered, and no; that broke his heart. “He did. And it felt good to be wanted, Harvey. So whatever I did, or didn’t do, to try and forget the fact that I structured my entire life around your needs, at the neglection of my own, just to be treated like it never mattered the moment you found someone better…you don’t get to have an opinion about it. You don’t get to be angry at me or look down on me for it, or come in here, demanding answers.”

Something in him snapped as one last tear drop fell, lingering on the edge of her cheek. Because she wasn’t the one he was angry at. He was pissed at himself.

“It mattered,” he said, taking a slow step forward, closing the distance between them, “Donna, it mattered. And I never thought she was better than you. If that were the case, I wouldn’t have left her for you.”

She closed her eyes for a brief second, “That’s not what happened, and you know it-”

“It is,” and he was tired of pretending it was anything else. That he hadn’t made his choice the moment he saw Donna’s name on that goddamn resignation letter.

Her head shook and those hazel eyes flashed up at him, “That doesn’t mean you want more, remember?”

“Maybe I lied,” he huffed, and Donna’s gaze widened. He unclenched his fist, brought a hand up and hesitated only a moment before laying it against her cheek. She didn’t push him away. “And maybe you did, too.”

Her mouth opened; to yell at him or to deny it, or to tell him to go to hell, it didn’t matter. He was so damn tired of playing it safe and pretending that everything he did want, wasn’t standing right in front of his face.

Before she could get a word out, before he could change his mind and retreat again, before the whole damn world ended while they were trying to get their shit together…Harvey leaned down and kissed her.

Donna froze.

It was more instinct than anything else and she had the errant thought that Harvey had done the same when she’d kissed him weeks ago. Her hands lifted, uselessly, for a moment and blood rushed in her ears.

Then, much like it had with him, the shock wore off and she realized that she was kissing Harvey.

Or rather, Harvey was kissing her.

Her hands landed on the now damp material of his white dress shirt, hesitant at first, then she fisted the fabric in her hands.

A soft, broken sound escaped her, muffled against his mouth and she pushed up onto her toes, kissing him back.

That was all it took for their restraint to shatter.

Harvey went feral the moment she gave into him. One second, he was kissing her like he was afraid she’d shove him away, the next his hands were everywhere; firm and demanding.

He yanked her flush against him like he desperately needed to feel every inch of her body.

She gasped as he half walked, half carried her backwards until they reached the edge of the sink. The counter pressed into her lower back and Harvey didn’t hesitate.

He broke the kiss and lifted her easily, sitting her up on the cool marble, slick from condensation. Her legs parted around his hips, the silk of her dress hiking as he ran his hands up her thighs; and the heat of his touch was all-consuming.

His mouth slammed back into hers, his tongue pushing between her lips. The kiss was deeper now, rougher, carrying years of every truth or denial they’d ever danced around.

Donna moaned and Harvey’s hands slid up her sides, fingers dragging over her ribs hard enough to bruise. It was like he was afraid she’d vanish if he took his hands off of her, and he kissed her like he’d been starving since the last time she’d held him in her arms.

God, it had been nearly thirteen years, and she still remembered the way they’d felt together. She still remembered the taste of him; the same taste flooding all of her senses now as Harvey’s restraint unraveled.

She clutched his shoulders, his hair, anywhere she could reach to tug him even closer, her entire body humming with the fact that this was really happening.

Messier than the fantasies she’d entertained from time to time, but so so very real.

Harvey broke from her mouth only to trail a line of openmouthed kisses down her jaw, then her neck. His breath was as hot as the shower steam against her skin. His teeth grazed her collarbone and, instinctively, she arched into him. Her legs squeezed him at the same moment he thrust forward, and she felt his desire for her. Every damn inch of it.

“Harvey,” his name was a plea as his hand cradled her shoulder, slipping one strap of her dress down her arm, the silk losing its fight of clinging to her body.

He kissed what was exposed, sucking the soft swell at the top of her breast, his palm sliding to cup her over the dress. The friction of the fabric teased her nipples to hardened peaks and he cursed, dipping his head.

Even through the silk, Donna could feel the wet heat of his mouth when he licked and suckled her still covered breasts.

She grabbed a handful of his hair, holding onto him as her head tipped back, shoving more into his mouth, a plea and a demand, while her breath came in shallow, broken gasps that filled the whole room.

Desire had never burned so incessant through her veins, but she’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Harvey, for as long as she’d wanted him, and it had grown beyond even that now.

It was a need, and she trembled as he slid her other strap free, causing the silk to slowly slip from her chest, leaving her exposed as it pooled at her waist.

Harvey’s eyes locked on her chest and his lips parted. His knuckles, slowly and carefully, moved to graze over her nipples and she felt the way his hands shook as he touched her.

Donna cupped his face, brushing her thumbs over the swell of his cheeks and pulled his head back up to her.

He didn’t kiss her again. He just rested his forehead against hers and released a shuddering breath. They both panted, barely holding it together.

His eyes were closed, squeezed shut like he still worried she’d reject him, even after all of this, and Donna tightened her grip on him.

“Harvey,” she whispered, stroking his face, “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

He swallowed hard and took another ragged breath before he opened his eyes.

“I love you,” he said when their gazes locked, and despite the shaking of his lungs, his voice was steady; open and unguarded in a way she’d only heard a few times. “I’m an idiot, and I’m scared, and I love you. I should’ve said that when you asked me how. Hell, I should have said it years ago. Donna, I love you.”

The tears forming in her eyes now were for an entirely different reason than before.

“Harvey,” she blinked rapidly, “I lied before, when I said I didn’t feel anything. You were right, I-”

“I know.”

She slid her hand to his chin, holding it between her thumb and forefinger, holding his eyes with her own, “I love you, too.”

Pulling his mouth back to hers, Donna swallowed the sigh he released at her confession and coaxed another from him with her tongue.

It was slower than before; though no less intense.

Desperation had given way to confirmation. Their touches lingered, traced and held.

She pushed on Harvey’s shoulders until he backed up enough to let her slip to her feet, the dress slipping too. She stepped out of it and his hands were already on her panties, bending to drag them down her thighs and she made quick work of the buttons on his shirt once he’d straightened.

The two halves peeled apart, revealing his chest like a poker hand and goddamn, she had an ace.

The solidness of his muscles, the dips of his abdomen…she ran her hand over the revealed skin, the blonde hair tickling her palm as she did so.

When she reached the button of his pants, Harvey’s hands joined, unfastening them while she tugged the fabric down to reveal his still covered erection.

She grazed over that, too, earning a sharp hiss from him that made her smile. Then the fabric was removed and there was nothing amusing about the heavy weight of his desire filling her palm.

Harvey’s arms wrapped around her, and he squeezed her ass as he walked her backwards to the large glass shower, she was supposed to have gotten in minutes ago.

Had it really only been minutes?

Such a short time for her entire life to change.

The spray was still blissfully warm when they stepped beneath it and Harvey’s tongue followed the trails of water as they ran over her shoulder and down her chest. Donna couldn’t find a single protest as he let the flow lead him all the way down to his knees, until his face was parallel with the slit of her pussy.

His gaze flickered up at her and didn’t waver when he leaned forward, bringing his mouth to her center. And she didn’t bother trying to hide or temper her reaction to the sensations he brought her.

He wasn’t polite and he wasn’t gentle. They’d waited too long for any of that. His tongue dove between her folds, taking more than giving, eating like she was his last meal. Donna’s hips rolled, pressed into him until he dropped back against the shower floor and brought her down with him, letting her straddle his head completely.

Between the water beating down on them and the way Harvey had buried his face against her, Donna wondered if he could even breathe, but his lips never once eased and soon she could think of nothing else but the heat coiling in her lower stomach.

Fuck, the way he worked his tongue over her made her a writhing mess. He’d proven how good he was at oral all those years ago, but this…this was even better than she remembered.

He’d flattened himself against her clit, alternating between full, slow drags of kitten licks and flicking his tongue over her with a speed that made her breath catch. Followed by another slow lick before he sucked her clit right into his mouth. It was the sucking that had her shaking; rubbing against his face like she could ride his lips to climax.

Harvey’s arms hooked around her thighs, his hands gripping to spread her wider and she whimpered at the wet noises he made against her. God, she was coating him with so much of her slickness, she could feel it when she slid over his chin.

He was far from complaining though, if the satisfied noises that were vibrating against her were anything to judge by, and she recalled their one night together like this again, when he’d told her how much he loved giving pleasure after wringing two orgasms from her with his mouth alone.

At the time, she’d been convinced that had more to do with his own ego and self-satisfaction than actually pleasing a woman, but he laid under her now like he had a single-minded focus and all the time in the world.

“Harvey,” she moaned his name when another few flicks of his tongue brought her to the point of teetering on the edge, “Oh, fuck, I’m there, I’m there, I’m-”

He sucked her clit into his mouth, still rapidly rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves and Donna’s orgasm slammed into her with vengeance.

Gasping, her head fell back, but she was beyond words as pleasure exploded from her core and Harvey growled out his approval, lapping up everything that flowed out of her until her thighs were shaking.

Floating somewhere outside of her body, she felt herself being moved. She felt her weight shift as she was turned, she felt the warmth of the tiled shower floor, where Harvey had been laying, beneath her back now. He hovered above her, lips and chin glistening from her arousal.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless, too. His gaze trailed over her body and he sighed, the noise full of contentment.

He lowered over her, eyes on her chest as his lips parted. He dipped his head and his weight pressed into her as his mouth found her flesh. It was almost lazy, the way he kissed her breasts, then sucked her nipple between his lips. He tugged at it gently, then ran a languid circle around her, all the while his hands were moving, stroking her thighs, parting them for his body.

“Christ,” he groaned, switching to her other breast, “I’ve thought about doing this again more times than I could tell you.”

He was lying in the cradle of her hips now, and despite how good it felt to have his mouth on her, Donna wanted more.

She reached between them until the curve of his hipbone filled her hand and she kept reaching. Further, not stopping until she felt that hard length of his and wrapped her fingers around it.

Harvey made a noise against her chest, his hips swiveling, thrusting into her hand.

“I want you,” Donna purred into his ear, “All of you.”

She was on her feet in three seconds, Harvey’s arm wrapped tight around her waist as he turned off the water.

Gravity swayed when he connected their lips, and he didn’t stop to even bother with a towel before lifting her with his arms.

Donna wrapped her legs around his hips, squeezing tightly as he carried her out of the bathroom and toward the large bed.

“Fucking chocolate-” he paused to gripe, lowering her as her back touched the mattress, “Give me one second-”

“Wait,” she caught his arm as he grabbed the tray with the small squares and the melted ice and half empty bottle, an idea forming in her head.

She picked up the bottle and one of the chocolate squares, smirking when he arched a brow, “Well they didn’t offer us whipped cream.”

Amusement tugged at his mouth, and his fingers ran up the inside of her thigh, “You’re sweet enough without it.”

Her smile widened, “That was almost romantic.”

“I’m full of surprises.”

He discarded the tray on the nightstand, then joined her again on the bed. Rose petals flew around them, some stuck to their damp skin, but were ignored.

Donna wasted no time, flipping over him so that she straddled his lap. Then she held the square up to his lips.

Harvey stared at her for a moment before opening his mouth, extending his tongue for her to lay the chocolate on.

He’d barely pulled it back into his mouth when she followed, kissing him with renewed passion.

The flavor of the dessert swirled around the kiss, tainting both of their tongues and she slowly began to grind down on the erection caught beneath her body.

“I can feel how wet you are,” Harvey breathed against her lips, “You’re covering me in it, making me wet, too.”

“Mhmm,” she pressed a final kiss to his mouth, “And you’re about to get even wetter.”

She pushed against his shoulder with her free hand, until he dropped back onto the mattress, lying flat while she sat on his lap.

She smiled, then brought the bottle over his chest.

“Hold very still,” she told him, “We don’t want to make a mess.”

It was a testament to his trust in her that Harvey didn’t even ask what she planned to do. He just watched as she lowered the neck of the bottle to his sternum and tipped it until a small stream ran onto his skin. When it trickled down toward his neck, Donna stopped pouring and replaced the bottle with her mouth, lapping at the alcohol, licking it up.

Harvey made a noise when she reaches his neck and his hands tightened on her waist, where he was holding her. His dick kicked up against her and she undulated her hips again, coating him with more of her desire.

“God, Donna,” his jaw hung slack as she left a sticky path from his neck to his chest, stopping to pour another small stream, this one on his nipple.

She flicked her tongue over each one, enjoying the way he squirmed like it tickled, then repeated the motion as she worked her way down his body.

His dick was practically pulsing by the time she dripped some of the champagne onto his shaft.

“What do you think?” she stroked it lightly with the tips of her fingers, the way one might pet a cat, “Should we see what bubbly feels like when you’re getting a blow job?”

Harvey blinked, as if trying to understand what she meant, and Donna laughed, sliding off of his lap.

In protest, he sat up onto his elbows, those beautiful abs of his flexing as he did so. But she just sank down between his parted legs, until her knees were on the floor.

“Come here,” she urged, and he didn’t have to be told twice.

Sitting up, he moved to the edge of the mattress, putting that swollen erection of his right in front of her. When he stood, it was at eye-level, long and thick, dripping at the tip.

She moved her wet hair over her shoulder, then took a swig of the champagne. It fizzed in her mouth, but she didn’t swallow, even as she sat the bottle down on the floor.

She reached for Harvey, but he was already there, understanding now what she intended.

He palmed his erection, stroking it once before guiding it to her lips, his other hand tangling in her hair.

Water ran down her back when he squeezed, but her mouth being full of him and the alcohol was enough of a distraction from the sensation.

“Ah,” Harvey’s chin lifted as she swirled her tongue over his tip, “Oh fuck, that’s good.”

His eyes nearly closed as he started to thrust, slow at first, then picking up speed. Champagne, pre-cum, and saliva dripped from her mouth and down her throat, but Donna committed to bringing Harvey as much pleasure as he’d given her.

She hollowed her cheeks and moved her hands to his thighs, giving him full access to thrust into her mouth while holding her by the head.

He was careful at first, then less so when she moaned while swallowing around him, making it clear what she wanted. The rougher his touch grew, the more noises she made for him, until he was burying himself completely in her throat and she was gagging around his length.

When he withdrew, more saliva and liquid came out, dripping down her chin and onto her chest. Harvey’s hand tightened in her hair, and he stared at her while he fucked her mouth.

“You really are perfect,” he murmured, and she hummed her agreement around his dick, sliding her lips all the way down his shaft, then letting him slam it back in.

“Fucking. Perfect,” he swung his hips with each word and Donna was convinced she could cum from the rough gravel in his voice alone.

Another couple of thrusts and she felt the way his muscles tightened, but just when she thought he might finish, he withdrew completely, leaving a stream of spit between his cockhead and her tongue.

He grabbed her face with his entire hand and lifted her chin up. He bent to kiss her, and it was messy. A slick mix of spit, sticky champagne, sweet chocolate, and slight saltiness of his pre-cum.

The kiss tasted like sex and Donna was so ready to have this man inside of her.

It had been too damn long.

For all the demand of his mouth, Harvey’s hands were gentle when they wrapped around her arms, lifting her off of her knees. The kiss didn’t break until he had her back on the bed, flat, looking up at him. He was staring at her with so much emotion, it was overwhelming, but she didn’t look away. She couldn’t. They’d spent so long hiding from what they felt for one another; she never wanted to miss a single second of it again.

Harvey reached down and plucked a rose petal from her arm. He dragged it gently over her chest and between the valley of her breasts, smirking when she shivered.

“No turning back after this,” he said, but it was almost teasing.

Donna lifted her knees to his sides, urging him closer, “Good.”

He dropped down to kiss her, once, hard, then straightened with resolve.

“Rest your leg on me,” he told her, guiding her calf against his shoulder.

She hooked her leg over him, leaving all of her pussy open and exposed. Harvey took himself in his hands again, pumping a few times before lining his head up to her entrance. There was no resistance as he pushed forward, she was so ready for him.

The growl he made as he sank inch by inch, all the way to her hilt, was more animal than human and Donna felt it to her soul.

She stretched around him and he adjusted, their bodies reacquainting like old friends.

“You okay?” he asked through gritted teeth, and she knew he wouldn’t move an inch until she was.

“Yes,” she smiled, reaching for his hand, “Yes, Harvey.”

Much like their foreplay, he moved slowly at first. Either to give her more time to adjust or because they’d teased each other enough that he was worried more friction would bring a premature end to their fun, but it felt so good that Donna didn’t mind.

Every full stroke lit up her nerves like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Over and over again, each thrust took her higher. Harvey stretched her legs, his chest leaning fully against the back of her thigh with how deeply he had her bending.

“I think I forgot,” he panted after a few particularly vigorous thrusts had made her moan, “How damn…good this was. Fuck, Donna-”

His hand tightened around hers and she smiled, shifting so that her leg slipped down to the crook of his elbow and his face came closer to hers.

“I’m happy to remind you.”

She kissed him before rolling, driving him onto his back with her hands and hips, moving so that she was astride his lap, his cock still deep inside her. The kiss deepened when he brought the hand not clutching hers to the back of her head, holding her on his lips. Donna stilled, relaxing her weight against him and enjoyed the way Harvey exhaled into the kiss when she did.

They were so connected, it made her want to laugh and cry at the same time, because this was how they were meant to be. Forehead, mouths, chests, bodies all pressed together, arms tangling around each other as they touched everything that had been off limits for too long.

Harvey’s hand slid from her hair to her back, his other releasing hers to join, until his arms were beneath hers, wrapping around her ribs, hugging her even closer.

She trailed her lips all over his face, urgency giving way to something softer when he held her and when she craned her neck back to look at him, Harvey’s eyes were already on her, heavy and hazy.

Donna held his gaze when she finally moved, pulling her hips from his body and sliding back down, allowing his cock to glide and refill her with the stroke. It was slow and intentional, every inch that split her driving her closer to the edge.

Harvey’s lips parted in pleasure, and they drank each other in. While she’d enjoyed her share of partners, there was something different in the way they stared at each other that threatened to bring tears back to Donna’s eyes.

She knew this man. Entirely. Intimately. And she loved him.

God, did she love him.

He began to move with her, and Donna reconnected their mouths, losing herself to the sensation of their joining, of his hands drifting down to cup her ass, pulling her in, so he went deeper with each thrust up. His tongue parted her lips, gently stroking over her own as they rocked together.

Her orgasm built with each slide, the friction kindling the heat in her core until it burned hot enough to rob her of breath. Her internal muscles clenched and spasmed, milking Harvey’s cock as he picked up speed.

It was the stark contrast, the vigorous way he pumped into her and the soft affection of his kiss, that finally threw her over the edge.

Pleasure exploded outward from her body, waves of it making her tremble violently and she buried her face into Harvey’s neck, stifling the cry that escaped her lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned and she felt the vibration through his throat. One of his hands moved to her hair, burying in it, “No, let me hear you, Donna. Let me hear those noises you make for me.”

She’d always found it difficult to deny him.

Turning so that her forehead rested against his jaw, Donna closed her eyes and responded to everything he made her feel.

She moaned and sighed and breathed his name as he continued to draw out the waves of climax. Her body felt heavy, her muscles spent as they subsided, but Harvey still moved, chasing his own end with her soft cries spurring him toward it.

His arm tightened around her waist the moment it hit him and his fist squeezed her hair; fingertips scraping against her scalp. He made a few subdued noises of his own and Donna felt the rush of warmth and wetness as his release filled her.

Then it was over.

Harvey stilled and she couldn’t have moved if she wanted to, though her body rose and fell with his chest beneath her. They were both breathing hard, coming back to themselves in the wake of their pleasure and the moment they’d just shared.

He was still inside of her. His arm was still around her. And his lips pressing against the hair on the top of her head made her eyes flutter.

So many times, more than she’d ever been willing to admit even to herself, she’d dreamed of moments like this.

It turned out that reality was even better.

Harvey laid there against the rose petals and the hotel duvet for several long moments, staring up at the ceiling.

His heart was still beating a little too fast behind his sternum, but the rest of him…he wasn’t sure he’d ever known a peace like the one enveloping him now.

In fact, it was more than peace; it was a light sensation that he was almost afraid to call happiness.

Donna was tucked around him, but he’d shifted so she laid more against his side rather than on top of him. He’d missed her warmth the moment his softening erection had slipped from her body, but she was still so close to him that he’d gotten over that rather quickly.

Her head was resting half on the pad of his chest, half on his arm, nuzzled in and claiming it like the area had been meant for her alone.

Her leg was draped over his hip, her calf brushing his thigh and his fingers traced idle patters against the soft expanse of her skin. She touched him, too, her nails scratching lightly through the hair on his chest, down his ribs to his navel and back up in an absentminded motion.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then another to her temple, inhaling her scent like it hadn’t haunted him for years.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice thick with gravel.

Donna laughed quietly, a soft, satisfied sound that ran a lick of heat down his spine, “I’m great. Spectacular, actually.”

He smiled, nuzzling against her temple again, “Good. I was aiming for spectacular.”

She tilted her face up toward him and he wasn’t sure she’d ever looked more beautiful than the way she did now; happy and thoroughly fucked.

Her hazel eyes were bright as she smiled up at him, “You overshot.”

“In more ways than one,” he teased, letting his finger trail a little lower, to where a smear of his release had gotten onto her inner thigh.

Donna grabbed his wrist, bringing his hand up between them. His cum glistened in the dim lamp light of the room and she met his gaze before bringing his finger to her lips, wrapping them around him.

Harvey’s dick throbbed at the sight of her sucking him clean, her hollow cheeks and long lashes nearly enough to make him hard again, if he wasn’t still recovering.

“Mhmm,” she hummed as she released him, “I love knowing you’re all over me. Inside of me.”

He groaned, eyes falling half-closed.

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll be inside of you again very soon.”

“Promise?” she grinned, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and capturing her mouth again.

But the kiss was lazy, rather than building. A decade of want, finally appeased, and yet he still craved her. Her tongue. Her touch. The soft noises he drew from her when he grazed his teeth over her bottom lip. It was like an addiction that he had no desire to quit now that he’d had a taste, but Donna was better than any drug in the world.

She made him feel so light. So complete. So…loved.

It was several minutes, or possibly another hour, before Harvey was finally satiated enough to untangle from the woman that had burrowed herself into his heart, and he felt a little dizzy as he stood.

“I’ll get the shower going,” he told her, knowing they’d need to properly clean up before getting into bed.

A few rose petals scattered as he climbed to his feet.

Behind him, Donna stretched out in the space he’d left, utterly shameless as she arched her back and lifted her arms above her head like a cat.

It was nearly enough to bring him right back to her for another chance to have those perked and heavy breasts between his lips again. But they needed to shower. And eventually, they’d have to sleep.

So as much as he appreciated the view, and as long of a second as he took to enjoy it, he managed to drag himself toward the bathroom.

Her phone was on the floor, discarded on the tile, and Harvey wondered when they’d dropped it. Probably somewhere between shouting at each other and nearly fucking against the sink, and the reminder of how the night had turned out made him smirk as he bent to retrieve the device.

The smile faded when the screen lit up in his hand, the same name from before flashing an incoming call.

Something deeper than annoyance settled in his chest. Harvey had only met Donna’s ex once and a feeling that he’d been unwilling to call jealousy had overcome him at the time. It had been a relief when they’d broken up, but knowing what he knew now, the memory of the guy made him murderous.

This asshole was married and had taken Donna on a date. He’d asked her to come to his hotel like she was some cheap hooker and was blowing up her phone now, on Valentine’s Day of all days, uncaring to how it might make her feel.

It was an effort not to snap the phone in half as he took a breath and moved back toward the doorway.

Donna looked over at him when he stepped partially into the bedroom, her relaxed body naked and glowing. It calmed him a little and he held up the phone.

“He’s calling you again.”

Harvey watched as she blinked, crooked her head as she stared at the screen, then shrugged, “Ignore it. Or answer it.”

He arched a brow, “You sure?”

She shrugged again, appearing unbothered, and it was all the permission he needed. He brought the phone to his ear and answered before the ring had finished.

“Hello,” he said.

There was a pause, then, “Who is this?”

Harvey glanced at Donna, who was watching him with a subtle amusement that emboldened him.

“Harvey Specter. Can I help you?”

Another pause, longer this time.

“I was calling Donna.” Annoyance laced through the words and Harvey didn’t particularly like the familiarity in which the man said her name, “Not her boss.”

Well. At least he remembered who Harvey was.

“She’s preoccupied,” he answered, then couldn’t help but add, “In fact, she was just about to get in the shower.”

“The shower,” Mark repeated, the tone he put on the word making it clear that he understood the circumstances perfectly, “So, the two of you-”

“Stop calling her,” Harvey cut him off, voice hardening, “Stop texting. If she wanted to speak with you, she’d reach out, but you’re not entitled to her attention.”

There was silence, then a scoff on the other end of the line.

“Her attention,” Mark responded, “Well, you always made she never had enough of it for anyone else. I guess some things don’t change.”

“I’ll tell you what’s changed,” his jaw tightened, “Your right to call Donna whenever the hell you want. Leave her alone, or I’m prepared to make things very uncomfortable for you.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” Harvey said, “This is. I’m aware your marriage is ending, and our firm does its share of pro-bono work. So, unless you want your soon-to-be ex-wife exceptionally well represented, you’re going to let Donna decide when and if she wants to speak with you. Though, I wouldn’t hold my breath for that call.”

“Unbelievable,” Mark snapped, “This is none of your damn business-”

“When it involves her, it becomes my business.”

The man huffed, “So what, you’re together now?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate to state the truth, and it was the truth. He knew it, even though they’d yet to have that conversation.

They’d been in denial for too long, and after tonight, Harvey knew he would never let her go again.

He didn’t wait to hear Mark’s response, or if he even had one. He ended the call and looked back to the bed, where Donna had sat up and was looking at him with a darkened, fixated stare.

She crooked her finger at him, and he walked over slowly, tossing her phone to the other side of the mattress.

“That,” she said softly, reaching for him the moment he was close enough, “Was unexpected.”

Harvey let her pull him back down and it dawned on him in that moment that he might have crossed a line, if Donna hadn’t wanted him to say as much as he had.

“Too much?”

She shook her head before he could work up a panic, smiling as her body molded to him, “No. It was surprisingly attractive, actually.”

Attractive was good.

He pressed his forehead to hers, “I hate how he made you feel. I hate how I made you feel, that you turned to him in the first place-”

“Hey,” she touched his cheek, and his chest eased, “We’ve both made regretful choices in the past. We’re human, Harvey. And humans are complicated. But-” she ran her nose along his, her lips closing in, “None of that matters anymore.”

“No,” he agreed, “It doesn’t.”

Because she was here, with him, and this time neither of them were going anywhere.

“I love you,” she said, before he could, and the reminder overwhelmed him.

He wanted to kiss her, to let his actions say all the words and emotions he’d never been that good at expressing, but this, at least, she deserved to hear spoken aloud.

Every day.

Forever.

“I love you, Donna.

Her eyes closed and she smiled, taking the moment in as surely as he was. He kissed her, unable to hold back any longer and as they rolled so that she was pinned beneath him and their hands wandered over bare flesh, Harvey felt a certainty fill his heart.

He was going to make love to this woman again.

They’d shower and fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Tomorrow, he’d take her with him to lunch with his family. His mother would love her, Marcus would no doubt spend an hour teasing him, and Donna would probably do the same.

Then they’d fly home, and he’d insist she come back with him to his apartment. He’d wake up every morning to her in his bed and he’d make reservations at Del Posto for next weekend and take her on a proper date.

He’d get Chunky Monkey to keep in his fridge and make sure she got enough sleep at night. He’d order her lunch for the office and would do everything he could to carry the stress of their firm with her because he wanted to take care of her, and them, and now that he had the chance to be with her, he wasn’t going to mess it up.

He knew he wasn’t perfect, but for her, he’d try. She deserved that, and he’d been a fool for too long already.

She’d put him first for years and now, it was his turn to make sure she knew how much of a priority she was. How much he needed her.

You over me this time, he silently promised, kissing down Donna’s neck until he reached her chest.

Her heart raced beneath his lips, and he lingered over it, embracing the emotions that had once terrified him.

With her, it was always going to be everything or nothing.

And he was finally able to admit to himself that, with Donna, he wanted everything.