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Don't Give in to that Feeling

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VIII – It's in the water, it's in the story.

The ladder declaration was bound to be a sight to see. And clearly, it had been. With the happiest of smiles, he'd kissed her cheek once; then taken in the beauty of the smile that wasn't his own and had kissed her other cheek.

"Put some jeans on and whatever top and shoes you'll feel comfortable in."

He told her to be ready in twenty minutes and left her room. Those were the fastest twenty minutes of his life. He'd spent them running around the house, asking Nanny, Dan and Jane for some help in the kitchen to prepare sandwiches with leftovers. He'd grabbed the necessary high-quality wine – also known as teenage booze considering the amount of time he'd spent choosing the bottles. That amount being practically null and devoid of oenological intelligence. He felt lighthearted, passionate enough to let go of the fear of doing things right. It was an impulse; a living-in-the-moment attitude. Without a care in the world, Jim's buried body far from his mind and very likely closer to hers still, he discarded all negativity and put his need to have her to himself first.

He'd taken his jacket and tie off, sleeves rolled back. Holly handed him a basket to put the food, glasses and cutlery in. He went outside, parked the car in front of the porch and put the basket on the backseat. He walked back into the house and waited for her. He was way ahead of time. Panic rose up in him. What if she'd changed her mind? He'd been so focused on himself; he'd forgotten the ladder was gone. He had no leverage. His imminent death – albeit fake – was out of the realm of possibilities. She could say no. She could stay in her room and leave him carefree on his own. He was pacing around the hallway, eyeing his feet, always looking down at all he saw while the rest of the family entertained the remaining guests for his benefit. Shaping his heart to accommodate hers again, doubt stalling release some more, he felt the opportunity to be with her slip away like the whimsical success of climbing up a ladder to play Romeo had.

The second she'd walked down the stairs, all he could see was them riding away – already long gone from this place – for a moment, a night, and a reality without failure, grief or pride that would be theirs and theirs alone. Time lost and found, fantasy touching upon life, tears of sweat pouring out of that spongy brain with the distinct feeling of having accepted that drunken haze you only get from a summer heatwave.

Clad in jeans and a white top tank, a light cardigan under her arm, she wasn't smiling. She was beaming with shyness. Rosy cheeks captured the remnants of tears but had her composure betrayed how flushed they were from the possibilities the impromptu date offered. She'd traded her dad for him. Jim like all fathers was most likely frowning upon it.

But the daughter was a woman; the kind of woman a man couldn't leave unsatisfied. Therefore his eyes never left hers. And he would keep all his focus on her so long as she wanted him to. He'd count on the night for a brighter day tomorrow; he'd be her night – he'd risk that fall for her until she would beg to shine underneath his view and body.

"Shall we?" He offered her his arm.

She eyed his arm. "Are you going to climb up that ladder again if I say no?"

He hesitated but he didn't want to laugh anymore. He just wanted her all to him. Honesty would have to do. "No."

"Then let's go." She accepted his arm and walked to the car alongside him.

He opened the passenger door for her and heard Nanny calling out to them. "You kids have fun!"

Dan and Jane waved them goodbye as well. He started the car, headed to the end of the driveway and noticed Donna turning around. From the rearview mirror, he could see Holly having her eyes on the car from one of the living room windows.

He couldn't help but ask: "Are you okay?"

She didn't turn around and said: "I'm fine."

She didn't sound like it.

VIII

She'd skillfully avoided all kinds of conversations by turning the radio on. Window rolled down with her hair flying in all directions from the wind. He noticed she had her eyes closed, breathing the hot air in. It was a pretty straight forward road. He wasn't afraid to take a wrong turn. He took a chance on taking peaks at her face, her neck; the pendant was still around her neck. Her dad was here but her walls seemed to have come down. He'd dragged her away from her own dad's funeral day after all. What did it say about him? What did it say about her for agreeing to this? She'd torn out his heart the day he met her. Obstacles. Too many of them scattered across thirteen years of longing. He wouldn't let that chance slip away again. He was careful glancing at her, eyes never fully on the road. The full Donna Paulsen-outside-of-work experience was unfolding for his pleasure alone. Death certainly hoovered in the background and she was a ticking time bomb that needed an escape. But she'd been the perfect human being to him all this time. He wanted to be the same and not waste another moment away from them. Licking his lips at the sight of her hardened nipples, he didn't care about being this obvious.

"Stop staring." She'd kept her eyes closed.

"Am I that obvious?"

"You know I can tell when a man wants me, right? Even when I'm working with him."

"So how come you thought you didn't need to wear a bra to get my attention?"

"You said casual. Aren't you okay with what I'm wearing?"

"I'm always okay with what you wear."

She turned her head slightly to the left and said, opening her eyes. "Good. Now, just shut up and drive."

VIII

They arrived at the reservoir around 7:30pm. It was a week day so there was relatively enough space for them to be alone. Families were leaving. He really wanted this to feel quiet and homy enough for her to feel comfortable.

"The reservoir?" She asked as soon as they reached the place.

"You said you liked it here. I thought it would be appropriate."

He maneuvered around the parking lot and stopped the car having found a spot without any cars around.

"A teenage dream come true," she replied sarcastically.

"I don't want to go anywhere else." He was deadest on the idea, turning his head to stare her in the eyes.

"Why?"

"Because you're the wo–" he stopped himself, thinking his next words. "You're the girl I wanted to go on my first summer date ever with, and that was some twenty–"

"Okay, no need to bring up how old we are." She smirked and licked her lips too. "Do you really want me to say I wish I'd gone out with you instead of Jake?"

"Do you really need to say it?"

"You realize we didn't even know each other back then." She raised a brow.

"But I knew she wasn't the one."

"God you're so full of it."

"Is it working?" He waggled his eyebrows.

She tilted her head to the side. "What are you trying to say here, Harvey? That I'm the woman you wish you could go back in time for?"

"I'm saying you're the woman of my life."

This had the desired effect. Mouth agape, she'd been rendered speechless.

He got out of the car and grabbed the basket. He noticed her exiting the car as well and grabbed her hand to help her up.

"Ready for that date, Donna?"

"As ready as I'll ever be I guess."

He walked with her, hand in hand to the spot he'd realized was the place where teenage dreams came true, by the pontoon. The place where she and her dad used to go fishing together. The lake and its surroundings looked just as beautiful here as it did from the hill. There wouldn't be anyone but them here. Just like he wanted.

"Is here okay?" He set the basket on the grass.

She nodded. "It is." The twitch in her eyes didn't go unnoticed to him. She was holding her pendant like a cross.

He unfolded a small blanket and sat down, patting the spot next to him for her to join him.

She sat down beside him. He probably took himself more off-guard than he did her by grabbing her hand and jerking her towards him so she would lie partly next to him and on top of him. His thumb graced her cheek and he said: "Look up to the sky with me before it turns dark."

She wanted to kiss him again. "Stop staring at my lips."

"Stop staring at mine."

"Just because I can't help it doesn't mean I want to kiss you now." His thumb moved dangerously close to her bottom lip.

"You always want to kiss me Harvey."

"I do. But I want you and I to remember this more than ourselves. At least for now," he winked at her.

"Fine. I'll do as you ask." She lied down completely, back against the blanket. "Oh what a beautiful sky!"

Her tank top was short enough to offer him a beautiful view of her tone stomach and navel.

"Stop making fun of this," he said, placing a hand against her stomach, enjoying the feel of her skin. His eyes had tuned into every curve; her arms, neck, breasts, groin region and never-ending legs were his to get lost into. The sky didn't matter.

"How's the sky?"

"Cloudless."

"Good."

"I want to believe my dad's up there, you know." This wasn't unexpected. He'd wanted her to welcome it. He noticed a tear escaping her eye.

"And whatever you choose to believe, I'll agree with your decision."

"I'm not always right Harvey." She never took her eyes off the sky.

"I'm willing to accept your crazy. I've been doing it for years."

"You think me crazy? You're the perv staring at a defenseless woman right now!"

"I think you're exaggerating. I'm merely appreciating your–"

"Just do what you asked me to do, Harvey." She placed her hand under his chin and moved his head so that he could face the sky too. "Stare at infinity."

He looked up to the sky for a moment before pulling her closer to him, bracing her head with his arm. "I am."

"I'm not immortal, Harvey." She hugged his chest.

His first reflex was to caress the hair at the top of her head, soothingly. "But this is, Donna."

VIII

She'd fallen asleep in his arms. The blue sky had been replaced by night. The Western World was theirs alone for another 8 hours. He didn't want to chance on waking her up but it seems a bee had done it for him.

"I'm sorry, I must have fallen asleep." She stirred from whatever fantasy land her mind had conjured up.

"Sweet dreams?" He asked the somewhat unfazed look on her face.

"Not really." She sat up straight and added. "I'm hungry though."

He handed her a sandwich, "I tried building a fire but then I remembered what I read online. You're not authorized to start a fire in the reservoir park."

"I've never heard of such a thing." She scratched her eyes, the light of the smartphone torch that he'd placed on the blanket against the basket was burning her eyes.

"Honestly, I just have limited skills."

"It's okay," she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. She paused and took another. She huffed.

"What's wrong?" There was something wrong about the sandwich even though he couldn't see her fully; the moon, the stars and the torch being their only source of light.

"Who made this?"

"I don't know. I guess Dan or–"

"My mom made this."

"Are you sure?" He asked with a mouthful of bread, mayonnaise and pastrami to chew on.

"Harvey, I can't see the grass beneath me, I can't really see you but I can tell when it's my mom playing a trick on me."

"I'm not following." He hoped she'd get how truthful he was about this. He had no idea what was going on.

"This is one of my dad's sandwiches. Mom used to prepare him sandwiches every day before he went to work," she paused some more. "This is Thursday's Velvet Pastrami."

"She gave them names too?"

"No, he did."

"It's very good." He could tell she was rolling her eyes at him.

"That's not the point. She did that on purpose. I need to know why. We should go home." She sounded pissed.

"Donna…" He noticed her trying to get up and stopped her. "Donna, why can't it be that she just wanted to do something nice?"

"Don't you see? She wanted to ruin my date. She wanted me to think about Dad."

"Donna, you haven't really stopped thinking about him anyway. I even made you think of him earlier."

"That's not the same. You're trying to make this easy on me. She's–"

"I think she's just trying to connect with you. This was a nice attention, Donna."

"How can you know this?"

"Because I told her to make amends with you earlier. But you ran away," he sighed and scratched his head. "I think this is her way of apologizing to you."

"And you can tell that because of a sandwich?"

"This is a good sandwich. She didn't try to poison us, did she?" He took another bite, laughing. "Just eat your goddamn sandwich and stop analyzing everything."

"You just did by saying she wanted to apologize."

"Shut up and eat."

"Fine."

"Donna?"

"What now?"

"I think there's something stuck in my throat… I feel…dizzy…"

"I'm not falling for it."

"Donnnaaaa." He was on the verge of laughing again.

"I'm already eating it. It's okay though, I'm willing to test my stomach's resolve."

He sighed again. "You're no fun."

"Give me some wine and you'll see how I can be tons of fun."

He could have sworn there was a sparkle in her eye at that moment; and underlying mischief in there somehow. He moved the torch in front of her face.

"What the hell are you doing?" She shielded her eyes with her hands.

"Just testing a theory."

"Well are you done?" Annoyance didn't cover the full range of emotions she was going through at this point. He laughed internally at the fact that she could make him fear for his life.

He placed the torch back on the blanket. "I am. Food poisoning didn't affect your beauty."

There was nothing to see but he could tell she enjoyed him complimenting her on it.

They finished their food and had no more than two glasses of wine. They'd discussed their journey back to New York in the morning.

"We don't have to leave tomorrow, you know?" He recorked the bottle of wine.

"I don't have anything else to do here. The funeral's over. We should head back."

He knew she didn't want to have that chat with her mother. Yet, somehow, he hoped tonight would change her mind.

"What if I'm not ready to go back yet?"

"How is that even up to you?"

He rose up and walked away from her in the direction of the water.

"Harvey?" She asked again. "Harvey what are you doing?"

He took his shoes and socks off and tested the water. "It's warm."

"It's Summer, Harvey. The water has to be warm with this heat. Now, why the hell don't you want to leave tomorrow? You have work and–"

"You need to work things out with your mother." He'd chosen his words carefully, imitating her own from years ago about his own unresolved situation.

"I don't want to talk to her. I just can't. Harvey, don't make me do this, please." She paused and asked again, "Harvey…"

She stopped herself. She must have figured out it was pointless to speak. He wasn't going to answer her anymore.

He breathed the night air in, silently hoping she'd join him by the moonlit water.

Her mind must have gone to all sorts of places for a minute later, her heard her walk up to him and then head in another direction. He turned his head to the pontoon and saw her walk across it, having discarded her shoes and jeans on the way. Left in her tank top and panties, he saw her jump in the water.

"Donna?" She hadn't reached the surface again. "Donna? That's not funny anymore."

He kept calling out to her until he saw that magnificent silhouette of her slowly rise above the water to waist level.

"Fake drowning, really?"

She couldn't help but retort. "Fake poisoning?"

"Skinny dipping?" He acted surprised.

"Silent treatment?" But then they could be two to play this game.

"Fair point."

A minute had passed. Whatever she was trying to wash away, he wanted nothing more but to clear a path through that silent flow. She never asked him to join her, he just did. He took his pants off, followed by his shirt and walked through the water to where she was.

He was a couple of feet away from her when he made his first attempt at communication again. "I can see you better from here."

"Do you like what you see?"

Her wet hair fell flat on each side of her face, her eyes were intensely focused on him and her mouth was slightly open.

"Do you?" He smirked.

He could see her biting her lip. He walked up closer to her, the water engulfing his waist line, slapping his groin with every step. She was so natural and his need for her was stiff and primal. He could see her breasts clearly now, enlarged darker rings dotted both her breasts showing through under her drenched top. There was something disarming about her and ferocious at the same time. He felt more like a prey than a believer bringing some offering to a high priestess. She was a beacon, delicate in the semi-darkness. She looked sleek with her yoga framed figure. Like an oracle in that closed immensity of a lake, she was a vision a man couldn't stop experiencing desire from, sending truth beyond words, with looks to die from for sole support into a not so uncertain future.

A smirk hit his lips. She'd been lingering too long too. Probably just as attracted to his naked torso as he was to her chest.

"It's nice seeing you like this," she tentatively said, eyeing and grazing his chest with her fingers.

He bent his head to look at her soft hand, tracing the lines of his torso. He pulled her closer and felt her breasts press up against him.

"Why'd you leave your top on?" He rested his forehead against hers.

"Cause it's nice seeing you like this. Distraught…" Pausing, she reached down to his boxers and placed her hand in them. "Wishing you could have me whole right now."

"One wrong move from you and I just might," he warned her, feeling her search for the right position to circle his length.

She began stroking him lightly. "You can't stop me from finishing this."

"Shouldn't we… swim together first?" He grunted, tilting his head back at the feeling of her hand on him.

She kissed his jawline seductively. "We're way passed playing here, don't you think? Splashing each other with water to signal the need to fool around?"

"I guess so…"

Her breathing intensified with her exertion.

"Donna…if this is like earlier…" Pleasure grew within him, a hot feeling in his stomach, warmer than the water surrounding him. He inhaled the windy sky that gave him no chills, her sweet rhythm creating the most erotic temperature there was.

"It's not." She stopped her side-to-side movement and took her hand out of his boxers.

"See?" She asked, kissing his collarbone, Adam's apple and then ear. "I can stop if you want me to."

He grabbed her legs and circled his waist with them, propping her up slightly. She placed her arms around his neck and began moving up and down against him.

"Kiss me, Harvey."

When his hand slid around her neck, he killed his own resistance by crashing onto her mouth, his tongue penetrating her flesh. There was nothing pretty about it. He was desperate in his attempt; he'd taken her by surprise with that kiss. This was too needy, as if he were still young and inexperienced. He was suffocating against her hot breath; even if he was tearing her mouth apart, it didn't seem to matter. She was responding with the same kind of fervor. Trying her best to destroy him too, battling his tongue with hers and then biting his bottom lip almost to the point of drawing blood. This filled his body from head to toe, invigorating him for more. He took the upper hand again, opening her mouth wider with every slide of his lips on hers, wetting her, tongue digging deeper, leaning his head even closer to hers, and building the kind of passion that forbade gentleness. He relished the idea of seeing her defeated, crumbling against him. That moment never came. She panted against him, mouth wider still, capturing him again, trapping him between her lips. This was better than winning. It was a never ending battle of will. He moved his arm between them and descended his hand to her panties, slipping it inside. She almost caved for a moment, mouth hanging against his, trying to lick his lips one last time before arching her back to the feeling of his fingers against her folds.

She grabbed his hand and stopped him before he could have her surrender to him. Closing her eyes, she settled in the crook of his neck as she disentangled herself from his waist.

She kissed his neck again, the light touch more tantalizing than her words. Her breath got stuck in her throat as she said her next words. "This is about me being there for you right now." She reached for his crotch again, swiftly. "Please, don't tell me to stop anymore."

He closed his eyes and pleaded: "Donna, don't stop."

She began her build-up again, stroking to full fast motion, moving about his waistband to switch angles. She freed him from his boxers, accompanying the motion of his cock jerking upright and stroked him faster. His breathing was erratic. As if he needed help supporting himself, having desired her all this time, he nestled his head in the crook of her neck and bit at the flesh. She ran her hand through his hair, tugging hard at times. He hugged her close and felt like his fifteen year old self again, unable to look the girl he liked in the eye as she was about to make him come.

She caressed his neck and gasped feeling that spasm that rushed from his balls to the tip of his cock. The air felt chiller for a split second and then warm again. But this didn't have anything with changing weather. This was him and all of her doing. He couldn't focus or feel anything else. Everything felt numb but his penis. As if she'd rolled him up and squeezed him hard, he emptied himself and gasped. His orgasm had put him at the most mysterious he'd felt in years. Maybe it was just the fact that it was her doing – her body next to his, her hand – and he hoped her love for him that made him feel that out of body experience. Her angel hands hovered over his once throbbing dick and moved up to this waist, settling under his navel comfortably. He left the crook of her neck and felt her hand touch his face.

"You're ruggedly handsome with that stubble, you know that?" She smiled the softest of smiles. He could tell she was searching his face, so he met her eyes.

"I love you." It was all he could think of to say.

"I'll have you know you dance around my fingers in strange conditions mister," she kept joking. Maybe she'd felt it too. That intangible feeling that they were just it. That infinity. More than a working relationship, more than friends and beyond a simple love affair.

"Say you love me too." He kissed her lips gently.

"I love you too," she said against his lips. "Let's go back to shore."

"I'm standing on two very wobbly legs here, would you mind staying like this for a moment?"

"You'll never stop surprising me, Harvey Specter."

"I'm glad, Donna Paulsen."

VIII

Pressed up against him and so at ease to face nighttime, he'd put his right arm around her shoulders to keep her close. Donna had turned the volume of some random radio station up. That tiny compartment had never been so quiet and so loud at the same time. The music and his heart, the sound of her voice as she hummed to the song playing, he didn't remember if he'd ever had a woman's breath tickle the skin on his neck. The windows were still down on each side. There wasn't anything that could top driving his sports car before but now that she was here with him, barriers down, nothing was so certain anymore. With barely any cars on the road, the stars and the moon for sole natural light, he felt like a stowaway. He'd engaged her into the night hoping for reconciliation and he'd gained so much more.

They'd made it to Courtland within half an hour. He parked the car, without speeding too much from fear of waking the whole house up. She got out of the car faster than him and to his surprise, went to open the door for him. She extended her hand and helped him out. He couldn't believe how lucky he'd been for thirteen years. He should have believed it sooner. Donna led him to the front door and opened it with her own set of keys.

She didn't turn the lights on. They could see clearly enough anyway with the moon's blueish reflection entering the French door lights. He noticed her looking around the hall a little before dropping the basket in the kitchen. She came back in the unlit doorway and grabbed his hand. He caught her arm before she could walk upstairs and made her turn around.

"Thank you for tonight," he whispered. He wasn't expecting anything more. She had the reins; she'd turned the evening around in her favor and to his benefit. But it seemed she wouldn't have had it any other way.

She placed her index finger on his lips. "Sshh. You don't want to wake Nanny up."

"You were the one who was loud last night," he mumbled against her finger.

He could tell she wanted to scold him but teased him instead. "I can be quiet."

His jaw tightened and his gaze darkened dangerously. "What if I don't want you to be?"

"What's the fun in that?" She retorted, before leading him upstairs.

They were two forty-something-year olds acting like teenagers, trying to sneak past her parents' bedroom. She opened her bedroom door and walked in, leading him to her bed with her fingers so determinedly wrapped around his hand that he had trouble closing the door shut without a bang.

He made a sorry face and mouthed it honestly. She snickered, took her sandals off and pounced, pushing her hands up beneath his shirt. Feeling her trace the V of muscle on his pelvis, his abs hardened against her fingertips. He toed off his shoes. The fact that he hadn't put his socks back on was one of the best decisions he'd made in a while. She slowly unbuttoned his shirt and soon got to yank it off him. She was the embodiment of everything he fantasized about. Who he'd desperately coveted for so long, refusing her, allowing her to be anybody else's but his because he couldn't man up. But then he'd danced with her, he'd allowed himself to have a chat with Scottie about relationships, he'd gotten her back and undone what he never should have done in the first place. Her more had made him run away from the truth and into the arms of someone he should never have dated. Donna's unwelcomed kiss had been the necessary slap across his face. She'd awakened him.

Her red hair, white skin and instinctual eyes had always made him feel pure primal male – ready to hunt and protect. She was the prey; she was different. She was his family; she wasn't indifferent anymore. And now he could stare unabashedly at her. He wanted her to see just how much she made him feel.

"Where are you at, handsome?" she asked, having paused at his pants.

He cupped her cheek and attacked her lips. She whimpered as he removed her hands from his pants. All the fantasies he'd had about her removing his pants would disappear for this nighttime resurrection. On an emotional level, their long-distance relationship was gone. On a physical stratum, all the wet dreams were far from his mind. He whipped her loosened top off before she could take a full breath and fought to wrestle her jeans down as slowly as possible; his hands cruised up her thighs as he squatted down to kiss each of them languorously.

"I'm right here." He ran his lips along her panties and sucked on the fabric shielding her groin from view, tugging and pulling down some with his teeth.

"Harvey," she breathed as he kept kissing her sensitive spot. Removing the item of clothing with both hands, he enjoyed the view of her perfect legs as he discarded it completely; admiring her mound up close, he caressed the patch of hair with his fingers.

He slowly rose up from his position and gripped the hem of her now dried tank top. She was staring at him. Was it apprehension? Desire? All in one? Whatever it was, he looked at her with his hands; his eyes too enthralled by her disrupted ones and began lifting her top. All he had to do was transfer his focus onto her, thumbs grazing the contours of her breasts as his hands covered her shoulder blades.

Before he knew it, she was urging him on. Her hands came in contact with his. Fidgeting with the hem, she helped him lift it from the front, crossing her arms over her chest and pulled it over her head. Taken aback, he took in the sight of her breasts bouncing free. She then kissed him feverishly, her nipples brushing provocatively against his hard chest. He dragged the zipper of his pants as she placed her hands near his ass and caught both the waistbands of his boxers and pants. She left his lips to yank them down swiftly.

What he felt for her at that moment, seeing the heat in the deep of her moonlit eyes was so intense it was painful. All this time they could have been like this, desiring each other, saying goodbye to the suits and ties, dresses and clothes that made them who they were; barriers which symbolized so much more than work to them.

He hoisted her up between his arms; losing all sorts of balance from kissing her, they landed on the bed and rolled across the mattress in a tangle until he trapped her under him. She scissored her legs with his and tried to roll him but he was the strongest one. And heavier. He lifted his head and showed her just how smug he was about how he wanted to fuck her.

He could tell everywhere he touched left trails of soft fire on her skin. Intoxicating him with her smell, every bit of flesh his lips grazed, his tongue touched and licked upon tasted of freshwater and years of perfume and body wash worn now welcoming him for the taking.

He kissed her slowly, licking into her mouth the way he'd always wanted to with his hand supporting the back of her head. He could tell he was watching her the right way; he was acknowledging the longing he'd felt. She ran her hands through his disheveled hair. The crisp hair of his groin merged with her silky one. His greed and the silence of his demand as he caressed the length of her torso from breast to hip had her moan in anticipation. Nibbling and licking across her shoulder, he slid down and sucked on each nipple. Tightened to the point where the line between pleasure and pain wouldn't be an issue anymore, he caught one of them between his teeth which had her arching her back and thrashing at the onslaught. He soothed her soft cry by taking a larger mouthful of nipple and breast.

She seemed to be falling so fast, he couldn't believe that he was the one doing this to her; the wetness between her thighs being the main indicator. As she searched for spots that made him growl and moan, his dick hardened with every soft suck. The way she stroked and kneaded his chest and limbs drove him wild. She lowered her hand to his cock and stroke him some more. His cock felt thicker in her hand; hard as stone. Every goddamn time.

"Donna," he groaned against her cheek and buried his face in the crook of her neck at the sensation. His moans vibrated against her swollen flesh.

He would fall louder if he didn't take her right now. She stroked her sex with him and attempted a shallow penetration.

He propelled himself up. "Do you have a cond–"

"Trust me," she said easing him into her. He closed his eyes and lost himself in her for a moment, delaying any hasty movement to enjoy the feeling of her. He stretched himself on top of her, adjusting into a better position. He began thrusting slowly, remembering how she felt then, crystalizing how she felt now. Pulsating faster as he thrust deeper into her sex, his eyes flickered up under his lashes to take her face in. He noticed tears stinging her eyes; a single tear having run down her cheek. Completely out of sync with his throbbing self, he stilled, reached for her face, stroked her hair and asked. "Donna what is it?"

"I'm just happy," she let out after a sob.

He smiled down at her and bent over to kiss her lips softly before resting his forehead against hers. "And I'm glad you can feel the way I feel."

She searched his lips, giving away sweet kisses. He felt her run her hands from his back to his ass and urged him forward.

He'd hankered after her for so long he didn't care that this wasn't the wildest of sexual dreams. He never got to pound into her hard, never secured her orgasm by stroking her clit. He'd made love to her in the most old-fashion way possible. And it had been no less devastating for being gentler. Feeling her writhe to his rhythm, he'd felt her convulse and ripple along his thrusts. Her hushed cry outmatched everything because all he could see, feel and hear was her. And it was louder than the beating of his heart.

VIII

He felt the morning sun heat his eyes and opened them slowly. The bedsheet felt soft and the covers hugged him close. But she hugged him closer still, wrapped in his arms. He observed her sleeping form and kissed her temple. The intensity of their date and night together lingered for a moment on his mind. He wanted her again but she was too adorable to wake up. Everything that had happened had taken its toll on her. She'd gone through hell and back into his arms. And sleep was the most important thing he could grant her right now. She wasn't going anywhere. He was sure of it.

Her soothing warmth made him feel so light in his soul that his eyes seemed heavy; as if he hadn't slept in years. Ironic how Donna Paulsen could cure years of unrestful sleeping patterns, wasn't it?

He woke up sometime later and was quicker in being aware of his surroundings than he had earlier. She was gone. He'd woken up from a dream into a nightmare. His heart was beating all too fast; he got out of bed and slipped on his shirt and pants. Barefoot, he checked the bathroom and eventually rushed downstairs. He opened the living room doors and saw Nanny, Dan and Jane deep in conversation.

"Harvey!" Jane greeted him.

"Where's Donna?" He asked, eyes darting all over the room, without really waiting for an answer.

"She's–" Dan began.

He never got the end of it for he heard people in the kitchen. His eyes scanned the adjacent door; it was opened enough for him to hear her voice. He let out the breath he didn't think he held. His trust issues had to go away. She wasn't gone. She hadn't left. He peeked inside and saw Donna chatting with her mom over some coffee.

"With Holly," Nanny finished behind him. "She's with Holly."

He turned around and scratched his hair, feeling like an idiot.

"I'm sorry, I thought–"

"You thought she'd left you."

"Yes."

"How could she after last night!"

She sounded all too enthusiastic.

"How do you… Oh for Christ's sake, did you hear us again?"

The old woman was laughing at him. The look of horror on his face must have been a sight to see.

"No swearing under this roof!"

"Really?" he countered. "What about eavesdropping?"

"Old house, thin walls. Get over it, boy." Her face had the-Donna-look written all over it.

He sighed and turned around, ready to walk into the kitchen.

"Don't you dare disturb them," Nanny warned him.

"Why the hell not?" He didn't turn around, all too focused on how the scene unfolded in front of him; ready for all sorts of awful things to happen between mother and daughter.

"Because it's between them," she stated. She patted his shoulder. "And I know that whatever they're talking about, it's going well."

"They're talking about Jim."

"Possibly."

"Are they talking about them?"

"Harvey, I'm hearing-impaired, remember?"

He rolled his eyes and rested his head against the doorframe and saw Holly walk away from Donna.

"I'm taking her home today, you know?" Harvey explained.

"I know. You two are going to be great together."

"How can you be so sure?" Harvey turned around again, doubtful. His entire decision process flashed before his eyes; having given into his feelings for her and with the deadliest threshold being gone, he felt defenseless.

"Don't look at me!" Nanny held up her arms.

He sensed the door was being opened behind him. He turned around and saw her standing there. A slow and contained cheeky grin spread across her face and warmed him all over.

"Because I am," Donna winked at him.

The end.

DGITTF

DGITTF

And that's it my friends! The last chapter. So sorry for the long wait. Holidays can take you away from fandom work sometimes. I hope you like the ending. If you did, please leave me a little review!

I'd like to thank the beta to my alpha Alternateshadesofblue for her existence. The people who made her are amazing folks in my book.

This last chapter is dedicated to Spectographer whose fanfiction The Secretary is one of the best there is. Even the best writers out there wish they could write like her.

I'd like to thank all of those who've reviewed this fic and the coming ones. Fingers crossed for the rest of season 8 folks. I have a feeling darvey is coming because I've been baited as usual.

B.