Durandus
Ok so I have FINALLY finished this. *heaves a sigh of relief*
*shuffles off back to Provenance*
Two weeks after the disastrous date that Rachel never wants to think of ever again, weeks of ignoring Mike and feeling her cheeks flame and her stomach knot with guilt every time she sees him, Rachel looks up from her vast pile of paperwork at the soft knock at her door and her eyes land on slightly unruly dark curls and a deadly pair of dimples.
“Can I help you Kyle?” She asks, looking back down and Kyle takes that as a cue to walk into her office and plant himself in her chair. She raises an eyebrow at him and he just smiles.
“I was thinking I could buy you a drink tonight,” he says, picking some imaginary bit of lint from his jacket lapel. Rachel resists the urge to laugh, mockingly, in his face. “I mean, purely as an apology,” he continues, “because I am getting the feeling I need to apologise for something.”
“You actually know that word?” He grins at her sarcasm as she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest. Kyle’s eyes slip to her cleavage and back up again almost instantly.
“Come on Rach,” she bristles at the nickname but lets it slide this once, “you’ve had a tough week. I haven’t seen you leave the office before ten,” she purses her lips, darts her tongue out to moisten them.
“I haven’t seen you leave either,” she counters and he grins.
“So you’ve been keeping track of me have you?” She rolls her eyes and twirls her pen around her fingers.
“You wish,” she says and Kyle huffs out a laugh.
“So, you haven’t left, I haven’t left, we both need a drink,” his dimples flash as he smiles.
“I don’t date from the office, Kyle,” she says, clicking the top of her pen and looking back down at her files. Kyle stands, shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Wishful thinking Zane, I never said anything about a date,” she looks up at him to glare but is caught by green eyes and a surprisingly soft smile, completely in contrast to the mocking one he usually wears around the office.
“No,” she nearly says yes, but keeps to her rule and Kyle shrugs again.
“Maybe next time,” he says and she shakes her head.
“Maybe not.”
“Don’t be too sure about that Rach,” he taps on the door jamb twice before he leaves and Rachel glares after him and sighs.
Looking back, that’s probably where this whole sordid mess started.
…
It’s a week later when he asks her again, catches her in the elevators and flashes that smile and Rachel says no. Again. Because she doesn’t date from the office. And Kyle is a dick. And no matter how much she wants to take him down a peg or two, no matter how much she just needs the escapism of emotionless sex with someone she cares nothing for, she says no. And ignores the way her stomach twists as Kyle shrugs, licks his bottom lip and promises he’ll keep trying until he wears her down.
She tries to ignore the part of her that’s looking forward to it.
…
She remembers when Kyle first turned up at Pearson Hardman, fresh out of Harvard and cocky, smug smiles and leering looks and Rachel had contemplated, for two seconds, hauling him by his tie into the nearest store cupboard and teaching him a lesson about humility.
For all of his outward show if ego, she’s pretty sure, deep down, he’s not that bad, no one can be that bad through and through. Harvey Specter even has feelings occasionally, usually directed at Mike but still feelings, for God’s sake, Kyle Durant must be the same. But he never showed it, never showed anything other than his egotistical side, his never ending certainty that Rachel would one day come to her senses and sleep with him. Its partly that which made her dig her heels in and keep saying no to him.
Then Mike showed up, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile and his show off brain, and Rachel had contemplated breaking her rule for him. Because she needed a good guy, a nice guy, one that would treat her like a princess and not like the accomplishment all the associates treated her like. And she hadn’t so much as fallen for him as fallen for what he represented, the perfect guy, the one that would push her in the right direction rather than keep her down for fear of her intelligence.
But Mike was with Jenny, and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to dislike her, she was sweet, and pretty, and clearly loved Mike.
Sometimes Rachel thinks she might be incapable of love, having strived so hard for independence, to be her own woman, that somewhere along the way, she broke herself. She’s pretty sure Jenny’s not like that, with her easy smile and her soft hair and Rachel can’t let herself be angry at that. Even though she kissed Mike when he was with Jenny, she regrets it, regrets giving him a glimpse of what kind of a person Rachel’s capable of being. And maybe if things were different, if Jenny wasn’t around, Mike would have let himself be drawn in by Rachel, would have let himself fall for her and she would have broken him too.
“You’re going to say yes one day,” Kyle says from her doorway and she looks up long enough to glare, halfheartedly, because no matter how much she wants to punch him in the pretty face sometimes, those dimples are lethal and she defies almost anyone not to be captivated by them. He notices the attempt and grins.
“Am I now?” she replies and he nods, a curl slips down across his forehead and he swipes it back. “And why, pray tell, is that?” He takes a step into her office and places his hands on her desk, leans forward and Rachel rolls her eyes, sighs heavily.
“Because we both want the same thing,” he says and she raises an eyebrow, tugs a file out from under his hands and ignores the sudden dryness in her mouth.
“And what’s that?” she asks as nonchalantly as she can muster right now.
“Relief,” he says simply. She doesn’t like the way he says it, like he can see right inside her and knows what she wants, what she needs, what she hasn’t had for far too long.
“From what?” she asks, and swallows the lump in her throat. Kyle stands, straightens out his jacket.
“This, all of it,” he says. Rachel swallows, narrows her eyes.
“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Kyle stares at her, his eyes searching her face, and there’s nothing in them right now, just a quiet, calculating look as he searches for what she’s thinking.
“No strings Rach,” he says finally, seemingly coming to the conclusion that they’re on the same page and Rachel feels something in her stomach flip.
“I’ll think about it.” She says without meaning to. And she honestly meant to tell him no. He nods, and is gone from her office without saying another word.
To be honest she wants something like this right now, an easy, no strings type of deal with someone. But she doesn’t just want it, she needs it too. Needs the emotionless, the meaningless relief, the excitement of all.
She sighs as she rubs at a temple, wondering what the hell she just got herself into.
…
It’s a week later when she plucks up the courage to actually answer Kyle properly. He’s got his head buried in a pile of briefs when she walks in but he somehow realises she’s there, looks up and she cocks her head towards the kitchen and turns on her heel. He’s there within a minute, sure grin on his face like he knows what she’s going to say. She’s had another hard week, completely weighed under by lawyers and associates and their ‘urgent problems’ and she wants nothing more than to loose herself with someone. To get drunk and wake up sated.
“Tonight,” she snaps at him and Kyle smirks.
“I dunno,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean, I might have to rearrange a few things but…”
“Take it or leave it Durant, this is a one time deal,” she says and he grins, makes a move like he’s going to run his fingers down her bare arm but she takes a step backwards as another associate walks into the kitchen.
“Fine,” he says and she nods, swallows down the sudden flutter of butterflies in her stomach.
“Fine,” she parrots and he grins again, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and she feels her eyes on him the whole way back down the corridor to her office.
…
“I don’t need this,” she says, draining her wine glass and Kyle raises an eyebrow, takes a long pull from his bottle of beer, his lips wrapping around the glass like something out of an x rated movie.
“What?” he asks, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip and catching a drop of the amber liquid, he inspects the pad of his thumb for a second then pulls it between his lips. Rachel clears her throat and ignores the smirk from Kyle.
“This wining and dining, the…pretence. I don’t need it,” she says and Kyle downs the rest of his beer, slams the bottle on the bar. They’ve made small talk, stilted and forced for the last half an hour and Rachel’s uncomfortable, fidgeting, foot tapping against the side of her stool, impatient in a way she hasn’t been for years.
“Well technically it’s just wining as there is no food,” he trails off at her glare, “but ok then…your place or mine?” he grins, slams a couple of bills on the bar and nods at the bar tender.
“Mine,” she says, she hates going to other peoples places, at least in her own place she can relax, chuck them out when she’s had enough, and wash away the dirty feeling when she locks the door, “but you’re not staying,” he nods, grabs his messenger bag and its so like Mike’s that she nearly calls it off, but then he smirks, his green eyes almost cruel and she swallows.
“Fine…lead the way.”
She hails a cab and gives the driver her address, and settles back into the seat as Kyle slips in beside her.
…
“Nice pl…” He starts as they walk through her front door and she hauls him forward by his tie to kiss him, she doesn’t want the forced small talk, the idle chatter, nice place you’ve got here, and can I get you anything. She knew he’d be good, with a mouth like that he couldn’t really be anything but good and he recovers from the initial shock quickly, pulling her close with his hands wrapped around her face, tangled in her hair. She loses the train of her thoughts, feels the overwhelming desire, the one that is always there whenever she does this, it rises up her throat as she runs her hands through his curls and groans into his mouth.
“Bedroom?” he asks as she tears her mouth away and he slides his down her throat, his hand running down her back and pulling her close. She stills, the bedroom would make this real, this isn’t some guy she’s picked up in a bar with pretty smiles and beguiling looks, under the pretence of something more. This is Kyle, who she works with, who knows exactly why he’s here and she suddenly doesn’t want him in her bed.
“No,” she mutters, sliding her hands along his shoulders and slipping his jacket off, he rocks his hips into hers.
“You want me to fuck you in the hallway, Rach?” he asks, curling his fingers under her chin, she avoids his gaze but works his tie undone and pulls it free, dropping it on the floor on top of his jacket, “up against the wall?”
“Shut up,” she runs her hands along his waistband, tugs his shirt free, her fingers brushing over his skin.
“Is that what you want?” he asks again as she undoes the small buttons, he’s still trying to catch her gaze as she pulls the last one free from its button hole and pushes it off his shoulders.
“Shut. Up,” she says, curling her hand behind his neck and crashing their mouths together. Kyle grunts, walks her backwards until her back hits the wall, slides his hands down her sides, down and around her thighs, tugs her skirt around her waist and hauls her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, bites on his bottom lip as his obvious erection brushes against the thin silk of her panties.
He lets her down long enough to fumbles in his pants pocket, produce a condom with a slight flourish that she refuses to smile at, and kick his pants off one leg and then he has her back up against the wall, with her legs around him again. She reaches back, presses her palm to the wall as his slips the silk between her legs to the side, his fingers a teasing touch against her, slides through the wetness there and pushes inside, his mouth at her neck, hot breath against her skin. His fingers are gentle where his kisses are rough, almost punishing, his thumb pressing lightly, then hard, then lightly again, to the bundle of nerves, and she’s shaking before he even lowers her down and pushes his dick inside.
It doesn’t take long, she’s too strung out from too much work, and Kyle’s fingers are clever, one hand still between her thighs, the other clamped around her backside, pressing in hard enough to bruise. She comes with her head thrown back, one hand tangled in Kyle’s curls, a bitten off curse on her lips.
“Fuck Rach,” Kyle curses against her neck when she tightens the muscles inside, the feeling of release flooding through her veins. She bristles again at the name, shudders as he pulls his hand from between her thighs and presses it to the wall beside her head. She runs a hand through his hair and tugs his head back, kisses him hard and bites at his bottom lip and he grunts, pushes inside her once, twice and comes, and her back scrapes against the rough wall.
He lets her down, almost gently, brushes his thumbs across her stomach, his fingers splayed out against her skin, goes to tug her skirt down but pulls away. She wiggles slightly, pushing the pencil skirt down her thighs and doesn’t look at him as he pulls his pants back up.
“If anyone mentions this at work on Monday, I will deny it, make your life miserable and the deals off,” she says and he smirks slightly.
“So this is more than a one time thing?” he asks, catching her around the waist and pulling her close. She leans back, presses her hands to the tops of his arms.
“If I want it to be,” she says and he lets out a laugh, winds his hand into her hair and pulls her head close, darts his tongue out and flicks it over her lips.
“You’re calling the shots are you?” he kisses her, licks into her mouth. She groans and feels something stir for round two.
“Something tells me you like that kind of thing,” she says, pulling away and twisting out of his grasp. He laughs, narrows his eyes slightly like he’s thinking as he runs his fingers through her hair and she catches a hint of the scent of herself on his hand.
“See you Monday,” he says and flashes those fucking dimples, and then is gone.
…
She showers after she locks her apartment door, strips her clothes off and throws them straight into the laundry basket, steps into a scalding shower and rolls her neck under the water.
She knows this is dangerous, her body still hums from Kyle’s touch, but that’s it. It was a one time thing, never again. She nods to herself, shuts off the water and wraps a warm towel around her. She’s not about to break her own rule for perfect curls and a pair of dimples.
The sheets are cool when she slips naked between them, just the way she likes, no man taking up space, warming up places where she likes to lie, no scent of anyone other than her laundry powder. She falls asleep easily, her mouth still tasting like Kyle but with a new found sense of relief and makes a mental note to put a stop to this on Monday.
…
Five days later she has her legs wrapped around Kyle’s waist again and Kyle’s got his hands in her hair and his mouth against hers and Rachel wonders where the hell she went wrong.
She had fully intended to stop this, but she’s had another bad week, felt the urge to be fucked into a mattress since Monday afternoon and hadn’t had the chance to tell Kyle no before he’d bundled her into a cab Wednesday evening and kissed her hard before she could speak.
They’re at his place, his sheets fisted in her hands and he bites down on her neck as he comes, hips stuttering, his teeth scraping across her skin. He’s dragged three orgasms out of her already and she’s feeling boneless and sated, her legs shaking even as she lies with his weight over her and she doesn’t even admit to herself what she feels is a small pang of regret when he moves off her, running a finger across her nipple as he rolls away from her and sits up.
She wants nothing more than to sleep now, wants to close her eyes and forget that it was Kyle that managed to make her feel this calm, but her blouse hits her stomach as she lies there and Kyle flashes his dimples as he smiles.
“I know you want to get going,” he says, pulling his pants up and fastening the button. There a small tattoo over his heart, Durandus in curling italic script, one that she didn’t pay attention the first time, too caught up in the feel of him in her but one that she found fascinating this time, as he stripped in front of her and she had run her fingers over it before he kissed her hard and she’d forgotten all about it. It’s stark against his office pale skin.
“What does that mean?” she asks, sitting up, looking at the black word across his skin. He glances down and shrugs slightly.
“It’s Latin, means enduring and strong,” he says and there’s a hint of a blush across his cheeks and Rachel can’t figure out of it’s because of the sex or he’s embarrassed.
“It’s also eerily similar to your last name,” she curls one corner of her mouth and he lets out a small self depreciating laugh. Rachel wonders when Kyle turned from egotistical dick to self depreciating.
“Yeah…well,” he says in way of answering, crawling back over her and leaning forward until she lies back down against the sheets. He runs his hands around her sides, fingers tracing over her own tattoo, the one she hates that runs across her lower back. The stupid blue flowers of a Morning Glory spreading out to her hips. She twists out of his grasp and stands, ignoring the way her legs still shake slightly.
“You don’t like it, do you?” he asks and she pulls her skirt over her hips, zips it up and grabs her bra before turning round.
“No,” she says, shaking her head and pulling her hair over one shoulder, “no we’re not doing this,” he frowns slightly.
“So we can talk about mine but not yours?” he asks, his voice taking on a slightly angry note. She pulls her blouse off the bed and shrugs into it.
“I thought this was no strings,” she says and Kyle sighs heavily, runs a hand through his now messy curls.
“Talking about a tattoo isn’t strings, Rach,” he says, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over his head, before walking out of his bedroom. She hears him slam a cabinet in the kitchen then the faucet being turned on and she shoves her feet into her shoes before taking a deep breath.
“Kyle…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he cuts her off sharply and Rachel purses her lips briefly before nodding and pulling her coat off the pegs by the front door.
“Yeah,” she says and doesn’t look at the way his shoulders tense as she pulls the door open.
…
She doesn’t see him the next day, she’s too buried in work, and then it’s the weekend and she buries herself in blankets and crappy horror movies and her couch and sleep and tries to ignore the need in her stomach until her alarm goes off Monday morning.
Mike’s pacing in front of her office when she gets there and she ignores the flutter in her chest.
“Hey,” he says, blushing at the tips of his ears slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and Rachel smiles, unlocks her door and pushes it open.
”Hi,” she replies, hanging her coat on the hanger.
“Listen…I…”
“Mike…” They both start speaking and break off with smiles and Mike, ever the gentleman, signals that she carries on. “Mike, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he looks genuinely confused.
“For asking Kyle on the date, I know you hate him, for kissing you, that was inappropriate,” she stops and licks her lips and tries to ignore the way Mike watches.
“Whatever happened Rachel, we’re friends right?” he says and she nods.
“If you want us to still be,” he grins at her, his whole face lighting up and she can’t help but smile back. “Now I’m very important and have lots of work to do and I think I can hear Harvey yelling for you already,” she smiles and Mike reaches out and touches the back of her hand briefly.
“Thanks Rach,” he mutters and bounds out of the door and she tries to ignore the way all she can hear now his Kyle’s voice whispering that nickname in her ear.
…
“Did you know it’s a stubborn plant,” Kyle says, placing a coffee down in front of her. She jumps slightly and lifts her gaze to his green eyes and wonders when she started to notice that the smile he gave her wasn’t always mocking.
“What?”
“The Morning Glory, its stubborn,” she raises an eyebrow at him and he nods down at the coffee, “that’s for you.”
“It’s stubborn?”
“Yeah, hardy, comes back when you rip it up,” he shrugs slightly, “thought you might like to know that,” he leans forwards slightly, “also, eating the seeds can produce a similar effect to LSD,” he says with a grin and she lets herself smile briefly back at him, although she hopes hers is slightly more of a smirk.
“I never told you it was Morning Glory. You have a green thumb all of a sudden?” he grins and shoves his hands into his pockets, raises an eyebrow briefly and smiles.
“See you later,” he says and slides off back down the corridor. Rachel pulls the mug of coffee towards her and inhales the cloud of steam rising from it. She briefly wonders when Kyle learnt how she took her coffee.
…
Kyle’s got his lips against her skin, his tongue darting out every now and then, running along the twisting pattern of her tattoo and Rachel shifts under him, lets out a sigh as a hand snakes under her and strokes between her thighs.
“I like it,” he says against her skin, fingers pressing against the nub of nerves and she shudders against his hand, unsure of whether to press her hips down or back against his mouth. He nips at the skin of her back gently to further explain what he likes, “It suits you. Stubborn,” he soothes the bite with his tongue and pushes his fingers inside her, “hardy,” his fingers curl inside her and she lets out a whine, “and I think this particular one,” he says scarping his teeth over her skin again, “blooms at night,” his thumb drags over the small bundle of nerves and she shudders to an orgasm, clenching her muscles around his fingers and he runs his tongue across a swirl of foliage across her back. He pulls his fingers out, grips at her hips and turns her over, throwing her thighs apart as he pushes inside her still shaking body. She groans, arches her back, her hands gripping at his shoulders as he fucks her and comes with a bitten off “Rach.”
That’s the first time she falls asleep with someone there, Kyle’s body draped over hers, his skin slick against her own and she’s asleep within minutes.
When she wakes, the pale light of very early morning streaming through her window, Kyle’s gone and Rachel pulls the duvet over her shoulders and falls asleep again until her alarm wakes her.
…
“It may have escaped your notice, but I have a tendency to be a little egotistical,” Kyle’s fingers are making patterns across the skin of Rachel’s arm and they’re lying on the rug in front of Kyle’s couch, having not made it to the bedroom this time, a hard few weeks of too much work, not enough sleep and no relief and Kyle had fucked her over the couch before puling her down onto the floor. She shivers slightly in the coolish air and Kyle hauls a throw rug off the couch and covers them both with it.
“No shit,” she says and Kyle snorts, lifts his head and looks down at her.
“When I was at school, at Harvard, I thought I was the best, and this,” he looks down at his chest and Rachel’s eyes are drawn to the writing across his skin, “is a reminder that I can be the best,” it’s almost shocking to hear him practically admit he isn’t the best and Rachel just blinks, words escaping her. He doesn’t say anything else, stands and stretches, grabs his pants and Rachel sits.
“It wasn’t my idea,” she says and he stops midway through pulling his pants up his thighs and frowns slightly, “my tattoo. It wasn’t my idea and maybe one day I’ll explain that but that’s all you’re getting right now,” she smiles lightly at his nod.
“Ok,” he says, fastening the button on his pants.
…
Its been going on for months now, and its nearly every day, sometimes its less, work gets in the way and they just don’t have the time, other times they can hardly wait to get out of the office door and into a cab before Kyle’s got his hand discretely up her skirt and she’s biting on her lip to keep her from crying out and they barely make it into one of their apartments before Kyle’s got her up against the wall and he’s pushing inside.
The first full night they spend together is at Kyle’s and Rachel has the moment when she wakes of where the hell am I and Kyle tightens his limpet like grip around her waist, slides his lips across the back of her neck and she pulls away from him and sits, stretches her arms out as Kyle shifts, mutters something in his sleep and lies still.
She’s out of the door and hailing a cab when her phone beeps quietly in her pocket.
Bring me coffee and I’ll forgive you for leaving me with a morning hard on.
She resists the urge to smile to herself and buys an extra coffee and thanks whatever God is looking out for her that the associate’s room is empty when she places the mug on Kyle’s desk.
…
Kyle’s fingers trace the pattern of her tattoo, there’s a bite on her shoulder that’s throbbing dully, a slight burn from Kyle’s stubble against her neck, because this is the first time they’ve done this on a weekend and Kyle evidently doesn’t shave on weekends. They’re at her house, Kyle turned up with a bottle of red wine and a grin that showed off his dimples and the wine is still sitting opened yet undrunk on the kitchen counter. His fingers still and she takes a breath as he slides his lips across her shoulder, licks at the bite mark there.
He pulls back and looks at her, his fingers pressing in slightly at the base of her spine and she closes her eyes.
“He didn’t know what it was,” she says and his fingers still again, “the flowers, he didn’t know what they were but he thought it was pretty, and he liked tattoos, and God I wanted to impress him so much,” she says and Kyle’s lips brush against the skin of her shoulder again, “turns out he was an asshole.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, sensing that she needs quiet, that she doesn’t want to talk anymore about the man that made her mark herself and then left.
“I don’t think you realise how little you have to try to impress someone…” she lifts her gaze as he pulls back, a startled look on his face but she smirks slightly and the blush on his cheeks gets darker, “uh…I mean ‘you’ plural, obviously,” he stutters and she swallows down a laugh.
“Obviously,” she replies and pokes her finger into his ribs. He turns them both, presses her into the mattress and she laughs up at him, “who knew Kyle Durant had a soft side,” she smirks again and Kyle grins dangerously down at her.
“I’ll show you soft Zane,” he warns, sweeps down and catches her mouth in a bruising kiss, nips at her bottom lip and pulls one of her legs around his waist. He pushes in without preamble, she’s still slick from earlier, but there’s a bite of pain, a dull burn and she arches her back, pushes her hips up to meet him as her fingers drag down the skin on his back. He hisses, catches her bottom lip again and grunts as she tightens her muscles around him.
“This hard enough for you?” He ask, pushing in hard enough that Rachel’s breath catches in her throat.
“Harder,” she urges and Kyle lifts her thigh, gets in deeper and his hips stutter. He makes to pull out, but Rachel slides her hands down his back, over the swell of his ass and holds him in. “No.”
“Rach…I…” he bites, a low whine escaping his throat as she clenches around him again.
“Inside Kyle, do it,” he looks down at her and she has to look away, can’t explain why she feels the need for him to come inside her, why she needs to feel the spread of warmth, but they’ve been doing this for long enough that she knows he’s clean, she takes other precautions as well as using condoms but she just needs to feel him right now. She tries to ignore the small voice inside which taunts her with feelings and reminds herself this isn’t dating, they aren’t going to fall for each other and live happily ever after. This is relief, it’s no strings, it’s easy. “Do it.”
Kyle groans, pushes deeper inside, lowers his head to her shoulder and she runs a hand up his shaking spine, curls her fingers into his hair and pulls his head up to look at her as he pulls out and pushes in again.
“Fuck,” he mutters, hips losing rhythm and then he’s coming, and she feels the heat deep in her, the wet heat as Kyle closes his eyes and his whole body seizes. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls out with a groan, falls half on top of her and pushes his fingers inside, and there’s a look on his face that Rachel can’t decipher, he curls his fingers, rubs his thumb over the small nub of nerves and Rachel clutches at his wrist, comes around his hand.
He falls asleep with his fingers still in her, his head against her shoulder and she turns her face to his hair and presses her lips to his curls.
…
“You look…calm,” Mike says as he finds her in the kitchen, she smiles easily at him. They’ve developed an easy friendship, one that’s tinted with tension but not so much that they can’t ignore it. She stirs her coffee and tries to keep the small smile off her face as she thinks of the silly song Kyle sang in the shower this morning what’s the story, morning glory, pressing her against the tiles and singing into her neck. “Calm in a way I haven’t seen on your before,” he says squinting at her and she raises an eyebrow and lets a sarcastic smile grace her face as she takes her coffee to the small table. Mike follows and sits next to her.
“Would you believe I’ve found some inner peace?” she says and he grins, leans forward like she’s got some secret to the universe and rests his chin on his hands.
“How?”
“Well I’m starting to see the benefits of a stringless relationship,” she says and Mike lets out a bark of laughter.
There’s a flicker of movement by the door and Rachel catches Kyle watching, his eyes unreadable from this distance. Something cruel curls in her stomach and she reaches out across the table to lay her hand on Mike’s arm.
“And how’s your love life?” she asks and he grins at her, shrugs slightly, and presses his hand to hers briefly. She catches Kyle’s look from break room doorway and then he’s gone before she can decipher the meaning in his green eyes. She feels guilt well up in her and pulls her hand away from Mike and tries to listen as he laments about his barely there love life. She’s thinking of Kyle the entire time.
Kyle fucks her hard that night, presses her into the mattress and doesn’t let her come until he has, and she lets him, dragging her nails down his back hard, trying to forget the flutter of feelings in her stomach when Mike had smiled at her.
…
Kyle’s side (and she tries to remember when it became his side) is cold when she wakes up, her hair tangled with sweat and Kyle’s fingers dragging through it, but the sheets are cool, smooth like he hasn’t slept at all and Rachel pulls his t-shirt over her head and makes her way to her kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in his hands, his pants and shirt done up like he’s been waiting for her to wake so he can leave.
“Kyle?” There’s an almost controlled anger about the way he looks at her, turns his head to face her as he places the coffee down on the counter. He takes a step towards her, runs his arms around her waist and tugs her closely, searches her face before he kisses her, hard, he tastes of coffee but there’s still a lingering hint of her on his tongue.
“Mike’s never going to look at you like you want him too Rach,” he lets her go so suddenly that she almost stumbles
“Stop,” she says, anger at him mentioning Mike, the sudden snapping of him calling her that ridiculous nickname, the fact that this is more than relief for them both now but they’re both too scared to be the first to say it, it all bubbles over and she pushes at his chest, “calling me that,” he grabs her wrists, spins her and presses her against the fridge, her arms trapped over her head with one of his large hands whilst the other creeps up her thigh, plays over the soft skin
“He’s never going to look at you like…like I look at you, but you’re too fucking blinded by his pretty face to notice,” he pushes his fingers inside her and she turns her face away from him, from his knowing gaze and he licks at the side of her neck, “He may treat you like a princess Rachel, but that’s all you’ll ever be to him,” he rolls his hips against her thigh, pushes his fingers in deeper, his thumb working its magic, “unobtainable and special, you’ll get bored of it,” Rachel’s fingers twitch, she pulls against his grasp but he holds on, tightening his grip and she shudders against the cool surface of the fridge, “I know you’re not breakable, I know you like to be fucked hard, you like bruises and bite marks,” he presses his lips to the bite mark on her shoulder to illustrate that point and Rachel moans, “You think Ross would do that to you? You think Ross would take you off the pedestal he has you on long enough to figure out what you really want?” Rachel comes, a whine caught in her throat and Kyle kisses her breath from her mouth, he lets her go suddenly, “I don’t want you on a pedestal Rach, I want you in my arms, in my bed, by my side. And when you’ve figured out what you want…don’t come crawling back,”
“Kyle,” she manages to get her voice back by the time he got his hand on the door, he pauses briefly but doesn’t turn around and is gone, the door slamming behind him, before Rachel can say another word.
…
She manages to avoid him the whole week, ducking her head as she walks past him and she can feel his eyes on her as she does it. The heavy gaze centred at the back of her neck. And sometimes she looks up from her desk and sees a glimpse of him walking around the corner.
“What’s up with you,” Mike says sticking his head around her office door and she sighs, feels like answering so many things but shrugs inelegantly instead. Mike sits in the chair in front of her desk, he looks harassed.
“Harvey’s in a bad mood, so’s Donna, Kyle’s being especially dickish and you’re pissed as well, if I didn’t know any better I’d say there was something in the water,” Rachel tries not to flinch at the mention of Kyle, “oh and don’t even get me started on Louis,” Rachel makes all the right noises, nods where needed, smiles and offers a sympathetic pat to the hand and then Mike’s off.
She watches him leave with a critical eye and is hit with the knowledge that even though when she looks at him, her stomach jumps, its with affection, with the love of a friend and the wish that she could love him more. Not the almost overwhelming lust, the need she feels whenever she looks at Kyle. With Kyle it’s different, its real and solid, based on truth of what they both wanted and needed. There would always be lies with Mike, Rachel lying about who she really is and what she really needs. Kyle already knows that.
And he still came back for more.
…
“Mike’s adorable,” she blurts as Kyle pulls his front door open. He looks like he’s going to slam it in her face so she takes a step forward and places her hand flat against it. “He’s adorable and would treat me like a princess, you’re right.”
“I’m not sure I get your point, Rach,” he sighs, standing aside and nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen. Rachel swallows and steps inside the apartment.
“He sees me as something to look after and maybe that’s what I want,” she says and Kyle frowns.
“Why are you here?”
“Maybe that’s what I want, but it’s not what I need,” she says and something flickers across Kyle’s face, “I need you,” Kyle sighs and Rachel wants to touch him, to feel him under her hands.
“Rach…”
“No listen,” Kyle snaps his mouth shut and Rachel takes a step forward. He’s leaning against his kitchen counter, arms crossed in front of him and as she gets closer he unfolds his arms and shoves his hands into his pockets but she takes it as a small victory. She reaches out, lets her fingers play over his belt buckle, his stomach moves as he breathes and he looks at her with bright green eyes. “I don’t need Mike the way I need you and I don’t want him either,” Kyle blinks, pulls his hands out of his pockets and they land on her hips, thumbs stroking gently.
“He can’t give you what I can,” Kyle says and Rachel nods.
“I know…Kyle…I’m so sorry,” much to her embarrassment she lets out a small sob and Kyle’s grip around her hips loosens and his hand slides around her back to pull her close. He tips her head back with his other hand, smiles gently.
“It’s ok Rach, it’s ok…”
“I don’t know what this is or where it’s going I just know I need it…I need you…and I…” her words are cut off by Kyle’s mouth kissing her hard, hands clamped around her face.
“I don’t know what this is either Rach, but I want it,” he says, pressing his hips to her and she tugs him closer by the belt loops on his pants.
“Kyle?” Kyle nudges her nose with his, licks at her lips and hums slightly, “I’m going to need you to do something for me,” she says and Kyle pulls back with a wary look on his face.
“What?”
“Fuck me,” he sighs dramatically and then grins at her, dimples flashing and she pushes her hands into the back of his pants. He mutters “so demanding” and kisses her again, still grinning as he lowers his mouth to hers and she feels the calm settle back into her stomach. Sometimes she can’t believe its Kyle that makes her feel like this, calm and sated without even so much as kissing her. His tongue slides across her lips, pushes into her mouth and she moans, standing on tip toes to get closer.
“You know what Rach?” he kisses her again not letting her answer and pulls back far enough to slide his mouth down her jaw, pulls her ear lobe in between his teeth.
“What?” His curls are thick between the fingers of the hand she tangles into his hair, the other hand still down his pants and pulling him forward.
“I want this,” he says again, breath hot in her ear, “but I need it too,” his tongue darts out to run along the shell and she shudders against him.
“So…”
“So how about I fuck you like you asked and then we figure this whole thing out?” he says, hauling her up around his waist. She wraps her legs around him and runs her hands through his hair.
“Sounds like a plan, Durant.”
*shuffles off back to Provenance*
Two weeks after the disastrous date that Rachel never wants to think of ever again, weeks of ignoring Mike and feeling her cheeks flame and her stomach knot with guilt every time she sees him, Rachel looks up from her vast pile of paperwork at the soft knock at her door and her eyes land on slightly unruly dark curls and a deadly pair of dimples.
“Can I help you Kyle?” She asks, looking back down and Kyle takes that as a cue to walk into her office and plant himself in her chair. She raises an eyebrow at him and he just smiles.
“I was thinking I could buy you a drink tonight,” he says, picking some imaginary bit of lint from his jacket lapel. Rachel resists the urge to laugh, mockingly, in his face. “I mean, purely as an apology,” he continues, “because I am getting the feeling I need to apologise for something.”
“You actually know that word?” He grins at her sarcasm as she leans back and crosses her arms over her chest. Kyle’s eyes slip to her cleavage and back up again almost instantly.
“Come on Rach,” she bristles at the nickname but lets it slide this once, “you’ve had a tough week. I haven’t seen you leave the office before ten,” she purses her lips, darts her tongue out to moisten them.
“I haven’t seen you leave either,” she counters and he grins.
“So you’ve been keeping track of me have you?” She rolls her eyes and twirls her pen around her fingers.
“You wish,” she says and Kyle huffs out a laugh.
“So, you haven’t left, I haven’t left, we both need a drink,” his dimples flash as he smiles.
“I don’t date from the office, Kyle,” she says, clicking the top of her pen and looking back down at her files. Kyle stands, shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Wishful thinking Zane, I never said anything about a date,” she looks up at him to glare but is caught by green eyes and a surprisingly soft smile, completely in contrast to the mocking one he usually wears around the office.
“No,” she nearly says yes, but keeps to her rule and Kyle shrugs again.
“Maybe next time,” he says and she shakes her head.
“Maybe not.”
“Don’t be too sure about that Rach,” he taps on the door jamb twice before he leaves and Rachel glares after him and sighs.
Looking back, that’s probably where this whole sordid mess started.
…
It’s a week later when he asks her again, catches her in the elevators and flashes that smile and Rachel says no. Again. Because she doesn’t date from the office. And Kyle is a dick. And no matter how much she wants to take him down a peg or two, no matter how much she just needs the escapism of emotionless sex with someone she cares nothing for, she says no. And ignores the way her stomach twists as Kyle shrugs, licks his bottom lip and promises he’ll keep trying until he wears her down.
She tries to ignore the part of her that’s looking forward to it.
…
She remembers when Kyle first turned up at Pearson Hardman, fresh out of Harvard and cocky, smug smiles and leering looks and Rachel had contemplated, for two seconds, hauling him by his tie into the nearest store cupboard and teaching him a lesson about humility.
For all of his outward show if ego, she’s pretty sure, deep down, he’s not that bad, no one can be that bad through and through. Harvey Specter even has feelings occasionally, usually directed at Mike but still feelings, for God’s sake, Kyle Durant must be the same. But he never showed it, never showed anything other than his egotistical side, his never ending certainty that Rachel would one day come to her senses and sleep with him. Its partly that which made her dig her heels in and keep saying no to him.
Then Mike showed up, with his pretty eyes and his adorable smile and his show off brain, and Rachel had contemplated breaking her rule for him. Because she needed a good guy, a nice guy, one that would treat her like a princess and not like the accomplishment all the associates treated her like. And she hadn’t so much as fallen for him as fallen for what he represented, the perfect guy, the one that would push her in the right direction rather than keep her down for fear of her intelligence.
But Mike was with Jenny, and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to dislike her, she was sweet, and pretty, and clearly loved Mike.
Sometimes Rachel thinks she might be incapable of love, having strived so hard for independence, to be her own woman, that somewhere along the way, she broke herself. She’s pretty sure Jenny’s not like that, with her easy smile and her soft hair and Rachel can’t let herself be angry at that. Even though she kissed Mike when he was with Jenny, she regrets it, regrets giving him a glimpse of what kind of a person Rachel’s capable of being. And maybe if things were different, if Jenny wasn’t around, Mike would have let himself be drawn in by Rachel, would have let himself fall for her and she would have broken him too.
“You’re going to say yes one day,” Kyle says from her doorway and she looks up long enough to glare, halfheartedly, because no matter how much she wants to punch him in the pretty face sometimes, those dimples are lethal and she defies almost anyone not to be captivated by them. He notices the attempt and grins.
“Am I now?” she replies and he nods, a curl slips down across his forehead and he swipes it back. “And why, pray tell, is that?” He takes a step into her office and places his hands on her desk, leans forward and Rachel rolls her eyes, sighs heavily.
“Because we both want the same thing,” he says and she raises an eyebrow, tugs a file out from under his hands and ignores the sudden dryness in her mouth.
“And what’s that?” she asks as nonchalantly as she can muster right now.
“Relief,” he says simply. She doesn’t like the way he says it, like he can see right inside her and knows what she wants, what she needs, what she hasn’t had for far too long.
“From what?” she asks, and swallows the lump in her throat. Kyle stands, straightens out his jacket.
“This, all of it,” he says. Rachel swallows, narrows her eyes.
“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” Kyle stares at her, his eyes searching her face, and there’s nothing in them right now, just a quiet, calculating look as he searches for what she’s thinking.
“No strings Rach,” he says finally, seemingly coming to the conclusion that they’re on the same page and Rachel feels something in her stomach flip.
“I’ll think about it.” She says without meaning to. And she honestly meant to tell him no. He nods, and is gone from her office without saying another word.
To be honest she wants something like this right now, an easy, no strings type of deal with someone. But she doesn’t just want it, she needs it too. Needs the emotionless, the meaningless relief, the excitement of all.
She sighs as she rubs at a temple, wondering what the hell she just got herself into.
…
It’s a week later when she plucks up the courage to actually answer Kyle properly. He’s got his head buried in a pile of briefs when she walks in but he somehow realises she’s there, looks up and she cocks her head towards the kitchen and turns on her heel. He’s there within a minute, sure grin on his face like he knows what she’s going to say. She’s had another hard week, completely weighed under by lawyers and associates and their ‘urgent problems’ and she wants nothing more than to loose herself with someone. To get drunk and wake up sated.
“Tonight,” she snaps at him and Kyle smirks.
“I dunno,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean, I might have to rearrange a few things but…”
“Take it or leave it Durant, this is a one time deal,” she says and he grins, makes a move like he’s going to run his fingers down her bare arm but she takes a step backwards as another associate walks into the kitchen.
“Fine,” he says and she nods, swallows down the sudden flutter of butterflies in her stomach.
“Fine,” she parrots and he grins again, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and she feels her eyes on him the whole way back down the corridor to her office.
…
“I don’t need this,” she says, draining her wine glass and Kyle raises an eyebrow, takes a long pull from his bottle of beer, his lips wrapping around the glass like something out of an x rated movie.
“What?” he asks, swiping his thumb across his bottom lip and catching a drop of the amber liquid, he inspects the pad of his thumb for a second then pulls it between his lips. Rachel clears her throat and ignores the smirk from Kyle.
“This wining and dining, the…pretence. I don’t need it,” she says and Kyle downs the rest of his beer, slams the bottle on the bar. They’ve made small talk, stilted and forced for the last half an hour and Rachel’s uncomfortable, fidgeting, foot tapping against the side of her stool, impatient in a way she hasn’t been for years.
“Well technically it’s just wining as there is no food,” he trails off at her glare, “but ok then…your place or mine?” he grins, slams a couple of bills on the bar and nods at the bar tender.
“Mine,” she says, she hates going to other peoples places, at least in her own place she can relax, chuck them out when she’s had enough, and wash away the dirty feeling when she locks the door, “but you’re not staying,” he nods, grabs his messenger bag and its so like Mike’s that she nearly calls it off, but then he smirks, his green eyes almost cruel and she swallows.
“Fine…lead the way.”
She hails a cab and gives the driver her address, and settles back into the seat as Kyle slips in beside her.
…
“Nice pl…” He starts as they walk through her front door and she hauls him forward by his tie to kiss him, she doesn’t want the forced small talk, the idle chatter, nice place you’ve got here, and can I get you anything. She knew he’d be good, with a mouth like that he couldn’t really be anything but good and he recovers from the initial shock quickly, pulling her close with his hands wrapped around her face, tangled in her hair. She loses the train of her thoughts, feels the overwhelming desire, the one that is always there whenever she does this, it rises up her throat as she runs her hands through his curls and groans into his mouth.
“Bedroom?” he asks as she tears her mouth away and he slides his down her throat, his hand running down her back and pulling her close. She stills, the bedroom would make this real, this isn’t some guy she’s picked up in a bar with pretty smiles and beguiling looks, under the pretence of something more. This is Kyle, who she works with, who knows exactly why he’s here and she suddenly doesn’t want him in her bed.
“No,” she mutters, sliding her hands along his shoulders and slipping his jacket off, he rocks his hips into hers.
“You want me to fuck you in the hallway, Rach?” he asks, curling his fingers under her chin, she avoids his gaze but works his tie undone and pulls it free, dropping it on the floor on top of his jacket, “up against the wall?”
“Shut up,” she runs her hands along his waistband, tugs his shirt free, her fingers brushing over his skin.
“Is that what you want?” he asks again as she undoes the small buttons, he’s still trying to catch her gaze as she pulls the last one free from its button hole and pushes it off his shoulders.
“Shut. Up,” she says, curling her hand behind his neck and crashing their mouths together. Kyle grunts, walks her backwards until her back hits the wall, slides his hands down her sides, down and around her thighs, tugs her skirt around her waist and hauls her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, bites on his bottom lip as his obvious erection brushes against the thin silk of her panties.
He lets her down long enough to fumbles in his pants pocket, produce a condom with a slight flourish that she refuses to smile at, and kick his pants off one leg and then he has her back up against the wall, with her legs around him again. She reaches back, presses her palm to the wall as his slips the silk between her legs to the side, his fingers a teasing touch against her, slides through the wetness there and pushes inside, his mouth at her neck, hot breath against her skin. His fingers are gentle where his kisses are rough, almost punishing, his thumb pressing lightly, then hard, then lightly again, to the bundle of nerves, and she’s shaking before he even lowers her down and pushes his dick inside.
It doesn’t take long, she’s too strung out from too much work, and Kyle’s fingers are clever, one hand still between her thighs, the other clamped around her backside, pressing in hard enough to bruise. She comes with her head thrown back, one hand tangled in Kyle’s curls, a bitten off curse on her lips.
“Fuck Rach,” Kyle curses against her neck when she tightens the muscles inside, the feeling of release flooding through her veins. She bristles again at the name, shudders as he pulls his hand from between her thighs and presses it to the wall beside her head. She runs a hand through his hair and tugs his head back, kisses him hard and bites at his bottom lip and he grunts, pushes inside her once, twice and comes, and her back scrapes against the rough wall.
He lets her down, almost gently, brushes his thumbs across her stomach, his fingers splayed out against her skin, goes to tug her skirt down but pulls away. She wiggles slightly, pushing the pencil skirt down her thighs and doesn’t look at him as he pulls his pants back up.
“If anyone mentions this at work on Monday, I will deny it, make your life miserable and the deals off,” she says and he smirks slightly.
“So this is more than a one time thing?” he asks, catching her around the waist and pulling her close. She leans back, presses her hands to the tops of his arms.
“If I want it to be,” she says and he lets out a laugh, winds his hand into her hair and pulls her head close, darts his tongue out and flicks it over her lips.
“You’re calling the shots are you?” he kisses her, licks into her mouth. She groans and feels something stir for round two.
“Something tells me you like that kind of thing,” she says, pulling away and twisting out of his grasp. He laughs, narrows his eyes slightly like he’s thinking as he runs his fingers through her hair and she catches a hint of the scent of herself on his hand.
“See you Monday,” he says and flashes those fucking dimples, and then is gone.
…
She showers after she locks her apartment door, strips her clothes off and throws them straight into the laundry basket, steps into a scalding shower and rolls her neck under the water.
She knows this is dangerous, her body still hums from Kyle’s touch, but that’s it. It was a one time thing, never again. She nods to herself, shuts off the water and wraps a warm towel around her. She’s not about to break her own rule for perfect curls and a pair of dimples.
The sheets are cool when she slips naked between them, just the way she likes, no man taking up space, warming up places where she likes to lie, no scent of anyone other than her laundry powder. She falls asleep easily, her mouth still tasting like Kyle but with a new found sense of relief and makes a mental note to put a stop to this on Monday.
…
Five days later she has her legs wrapped around Kyle’s waist again and Kyle’s got his hands in her hair and his mouth against hers and Rachel wonders where the hell she went wrong.
She had fully intended to stop this, but she’s had another bad week, felt the urge to be fucked into a mattress since Monday afternoon and hadn’t had the chance to tell Kyle no before he’d bundled her into a cab Wednesday evening and kissed her hard before she could speak.
They’re at his place, his sheets fisted in her hands and he bites down on her neck as he comes, hips stuttering, his teeth scraping across her skin. He’s dragged three orgasms out of her already and she’s feeling boneless and sated, her legs shaking even as she lies with his weight over her and she doesn’t even admit to herself what she feels is a small pang of regret when he moves off her, running a finger across her nipple as he rolls away from her and sits up.
She wants nothing more than to sleep now, wants to close her eyes and forget that it was Kyle that managed to make her feel this calm, but her blouse hits her stomach as she lies there and Kyle flashes his dimples as he smiles.
“I know you want to get going,” he says, pulling his pants up and fastening the button. There a small tattoo over his heart, Durandus in curling italic script, one that she didn’t pay attention the first time, too caught up in the feel of him in her but one that she found fascinating this time, as he stripped in front of her and she had run her fingers over it before he kissed her hard and she’d forgotten all about it. It’s stark against his office pale skin.
“What does that mean?” she asks, sitting up, looking at the black word across his skin. He glances down and shrugs slightly.
“It’s Latin, means enduring and strong,” he says and there’s a hint of a blush across his cheeks and Rachel can’t figure out of it’s because of the sex or he’s embarrassed.
“It’s also eerily similar to your last name,” she curls one corner of her mouth and he lets out a small self depreciating laugh. Rachel wonders when Kyle turned from egotistical dick to self depreciating.
“Yeah…well,” he says in way of answering, crawling back over her and leaning forward until she lies back down against the sheets. He runs his hands around her sides, fingers tracing over her own tattoo, the one she hates that runs across her lower back. The stupid blue flowers of a Morning Glory spreading out to her hips. She twists out of his grasp and stands, ignoring the way her legs still shake slightly.
“You don’t like it, do you?” he asks and she pulls her skirt over her hips, zips it up and grabs her bra before turning round.
“No,” she says, shaking her head and pulling her hair over one shoulder, “no we’re not doing this,” he frowns slightly.
“So we can talk about mine but not yours?” he asks, his voice taking on a slightly angry note. She pulls her blouse off the bed and shrugs into it.
“I thought this was no strings,” she says and Kyle sighs heavily, runs a hand through his now messy curls.
“Talking about a tattoo isn’t strings, Rach,” he says, grabbing a t-shirt and pulling it over his head, before walking out of his bedroom. She hears him slam a cabinet in the kitchen then the faucet being turned on and she shoves her feet into her shoes before taking a deep breath.
“Kyle…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he cuts her off sharply and Rachel purses her lips briefly before nodding and pulling her coat off the pegs by the front door.
“Yeah,” she says and doesn’t look at the way his shoulders tense as she pulls the door open.
…
She doesn’t see him the next day, she’s too buried in work, and then it’s the weekend and she buries herself in blankets and crappy horror movies and her couch and sleep and tries to ignore the need in her stomach until her alarm goes off Monday morning.
Mike’s pacing in front of her office when she gets there and she ignores the flutter in her chest.
“Hey,” he says, blushing at the tips of his ears slightly, rubbing the back of his neck and Rachel smiles, unlocks her door and pushes it open.
”Hi,” she replies, hanging her coat on the hanger.
“Listen…I…”
“Mike…” They both start speaking and break off with smiles and Mike, ever the gentleman, signals that she carries on. “Mike, I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he looks genuinely confused.
“For asking Kyle on the date, I know you hate him, for kissing you, that was inappropriate,” she stops and licks her lips and tries to ignore the way Mike watches.
“Whatever happened Rachel, we’re friends right?” he says and she nods.
“If you want us to still be,” he grins at her, his whole face lighting up and she can’t help but smile back. “Now I’m very important and have lots of work to do and I think I can hear Harvey yelling for you already,” she smiles and Mike reaches out and touches the back of her hand briefly.
“Thanks Rach,” he mutters and bounds out of the door and she tries to ignore the way all she can hear now his Kyle’s voice whispering that nickname in her ear.
…
“Did you know it’s a stubborn plant,” Kyle says, placing a coffee down in front of her. She jumps slightly and lifts her gaze to his green eyes and wonders when she started to notice that the smile he gave her wasn’t always mocking.
“What?”
“The Morning Glory, its stubborn,” she raises an eyebrow at him and he nods down at the coffee, “that’s for you.”
“It’s stubborn?”
“Yeah, hardy, comes back when you rip it up,” he shrugs slightly, “thought you might like to know that,” he leans forwards slightly, “also, eating the seeds can produce a similar effect to LSD,” he says with a grin and she lets herself smile briefly back at him, although she hopes hers is slightly more of a smirk.
“I never told you it was Morning Glory. You have a green thumb all of a sudden?” he grins and shoves his hands into his pockets, raises an eyebrow briefly and smiles.
“See you later,” he says and slides off back down the corridor. Rachel pulls the mug of coffee towards her and inhales the cloud of steam rising from it. She briefly wonders when Kyle learnt how she took her coffee.
…
Kyle’s got his lips against her skin, his tongue darting out every now and then, running along the twisting pattern of her tattoo and Rachel shifts under him, lets out a sigh as a hand snakes under her and strokes between her thighs.
“I like it,” he says against her skin, fingers pressing against the nub of nerves and she shudders against his hand, unsure of whether to press her hips down or back against his mouth. He nips at the skin of her back gently to further explain what he likes, “It suits you. Stubborn,” he soothes the bite with his tongue and pushes his fingers inside her, “hardy,” his fingers curl inside her and she lets out a whine, “and I think this particular one,” he says scarping his teeth over her skin again, “blooms at night,” his thumb drags over the small bundle of nerves and she shudders to an orgasm, clenching her muscles around his fingers and he runs his tongue across a swirl of foliage across her back. He pulls his fingers out, grips at her hips and turns her over, throwing her thighs apart as he pushes inside her still shaking body. She groans, arches her back, her hands gripping at his shoulders as he fucks her and comes with a bitten off “Rach.”
That’s the first time she falls asleep with someone there, Kyle’s body draped over hers, his skin slick against her own and she’s asleep within minutes.
When she wakes, the pale light of very early morning streaming through her window, Kyle’s gone and Rachel pulls the duvet over her shoulders and falls asleep again until her alarm wakes her.
…
“It may have escaped your notice, but I have a tendency to be a little egotistical,” Kyle’s fingers are making patterns across the skin of Rachel’s arm and they’re lying on the rug in front of Kyle’s couch, having not made it to the bedroom this time, a hard few weeks of too much work, not enough sleep and no relief and Kyle had fucked her over the couch before puling her down onto the floor. She shivers slightly in the coolish air and Kyle hauls a throw rug off the couch and covers them both with it.
“No shit,” she says and Kyle snorts, lifts his head and looks down at her.
“When I was at school, at Harvard, I thought I was the best, and this,” he looks down at his chest and Rachel’s eyes are drawn to the writing across his skin, “is a reminder that I can be the best,” it’s almost shocking to hear him practically admit he isn’t the best and Rachel just blinks, words escaping her. He doesn’t say anything else, stands and stretches, grabs his pants and Rachel sits.
“It wasn’t my idea,” she says and he stops midway through pulling his pants up his thighs and frowns slightly, “my tattoo. It wasn’t my idea and maybe one day I’ll explain that but that’s all you’re getting right now,” she smiles lightly at his nod.
“Ok,” he says, fastening the button on his pants.
…
Its been going on for months now, and its nearly every day, sometimes its less, work gets in the way and they just don’t have the time, other times they can hardly wait to get out of the office door and into a cab before Kyle’s got his hand discretely up her skirt and she’s biting on her lip to keep her from crying out and they barely make it into one of their apartments before Kyle’s got her up against the wall and he’s pushing inside.
The first full night they spend together is at Kyle’s and Rachel has the moment when she wakes of where the hell am I and Kyle tightens his limpet like grip around her waist, slides his lips across the back of her neck and she pulls away from him and sits, stretches her arms out as Kyle shifts, mutters something in his sleep and lies still.
She’s out of the door and hailing a cab when her phone beeps quietly in her pocket.
Bring me coffee and I’ll forgive you for leaving me with a morning hard on.
She resists the urge to smile to herself and buys an extra coffee and thanks whatever God is looking out for her that the associate’s room is empty when she places the mug on Kyle’s desk.
…
Kyle’s fingers trace the pattern of her tattoo, there’s a bite on her shoulder that’s throbbing dully, a slight burn from Kyle’s stubble against her neck, because this is the first time they’ve done this on a weekend and Kyle evidently doesn’t shave on weekends. They’re at her house, Kyle turned up with a bottle of red wine and a grin that showed off his dimples and the wine is still sitting opened yet undrunk on the kitchen counter. His fingers still and she takes a breath as he slides his lips across her shoulder, licks at the bite mark there.
He pulls back and looks at her, his fingers pressing in slightly at the base of her spine and she closes her eyes.
“He didn’t know what it was,” she says and his fingers still again, “the flowers, he didn’t know what they were but he thought it was pretty, and he liked tattoos, and God I wanted to impress him so much,” she says and Kyle’s lips brush against the skin of her shoulder again, “turns out he was an asshole.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, sensing that she needs quiet, that she doesn’t want to talk anymore about the man that made her mark herself and then left.
“I don’t think you realise how little you have to try to impress someone…” she lifts her gaze as he pulls back, a startled look on his face but she smirks slightly and the blush on his cheeks gets darker, “uh…I mean ‘you’ plural, obviously,” he stutters and she swallows down a laugh.
“Obviously,” she replies and pokes her finger into his ribs. He turns them both, presses her into the mattress and she laughs up at him, “who knew Kyle Durant had a soft side,” she smirks again and Kyle grins dangerously down at her.
“I’ll show you soft Zane,” he warns, sweeps down and catches her mouth in a bruising kiss, nips at her bottom lip and pulls one of her legs around his waist. He pushes in without preamble, she’s still slick from earlier, but there’s a bite of pain, a dull burn and she arches her back, pushes her hips up to meet him as her fingers drag down the skin on his back. He hisses, catches her bottom lip again and grunts as she tightens her muscles around him.
“This hard enough for you?” He ask, pushing in hard enough that Rachel’s breath catches in her throat.
“Harder,” she urges and Kyle lifts her thigh, gets in deeper and his hips stutter. He makes to pull out, but Rachel slides her hands down his back, over the swell of his ass and holds him in. “No.”
“Rach…I…” he bites, a low whine escaping his throat as she clenches around him again.
“Inside Kyle, do it,” he looks down at her and she has to look away, can’t explain why she feels the need for him to come inside her, why she needs to feel the spread of warmth, but they’ve been doing this for long enough that she knows he’s clean, she takes other precautions as well as using condoms but she just needs to feel him right now. She tries to ignore the small voice inside which taunts her with feelings and reminds herself this isn’t dating, they aren’t going to fall for each other and live happily ever after. This is relief, it’s no strings, it’s easy. “Do it.”
Kyle groans, pushes deeper inside, lowers his head to her shoulder and she runs a hand up his shaking spine, curls her fingers into his hair and pulls his head up to look at her as he pulls out and pushes in again.
“Fuck,” he mutters, hips losing rhythm and then he’s coming, and she feels the heat deep in her, the wet heat as Kyle closes his eyes and his whole body seizes. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls out with a groan, falls half on top of her and pushes his fingers inside, and there’s a look on his face that Rachel can’t decipher, he curls his fingers, rubs his thumb over the small nub of nerves and Rachel clutches at his wrist, comes around his hand.
He falls asleep with his fingers still in her, his head against her shoulder and she turns her face to his hair and presses her lips to his curls.
…
“You look…calm,” Mike says as he finds her in the kitchen, she smiles easily at him. They’ve developed an easy friendship, one that’s tinted with tension but not so much that they can’t ignore it. She stirs her coffee and tries to keep the small smile off her face as she thinks of the silly song Kyle sang in the shower this morning what’s the story, morning glory, pressing her against the tiles and singing into her neck. “Calm in a way I haven’t seen on your before,” he says squinting at her and she raises an eyebrow and lets a sarcastic smile grace her face as she takes her coffee to the small table. Mike follows and sits next to her.
“Would you believe I’ve found some inner peace?” she says and he grins, leans forward like she’s got some secret to the universe and rests his chin on his hands.
“How?”
“Well I’m starting to see the benefits of a stringless relationship,” she says and Mike lets out a bark of laughter.
There’s a flicker of movement by the door and Rachel catches Kyle watching, his eyes unreadable from this distance. Something cruel curls in her stomach and she reaches out across the table to lay her hand on Mike’s arm.
“And how’s your love life?” she asks and he grins at her, shrugs slightly, and presses his hand to hers briefly. She catches Kyle’s look from break room doorway and then he’s gone before she can decipher the meaning in his green eyes. She feels guilt well up in her and pulls her hand away from Mike and tries to listen as he laments about his barely there love life. She’s thinking of Kyle the entire time.
Kyle fucks her hard that night, presses her into the mattress and doesn’t let her come until he has, and she lets him, dragging her nails down his back hard, trying to forget the flutter of feelings in her stomach when Mike had smiled at her.
…
Kyle’s side (and she tries to remember when it became his side) is cold when she wakes up, her hair tangled with sweat and Kyle’s fingers dragging through it, but the sheets are cool, smooth like he hasn’t slept at all and Rachel pulls his t-shirt over her head and makes her way to her kitchen. He’s leaning against the counter, a mug of coffee in his hands, his pants and shirt done up like he’s been waiting for her to wake so he can leave.
“Kyle?” There’s an almost controlled anger about the way he looks at her, turns his head to face her as he places the coffee down on the counter. He takes a step towards her, runs his arms around her waist and tugs her closely, searches her face before he kisses her, hard, he tastes of coffee but there’s still a lingering hint of her on his tongue.
“Mike’s never going to look at you like you want him too Rach,” he lets her go so suddenly that she almost stumbles
“Stop,” she says, anger at him mentioning Mike, the sudden snapping of him calling her that ridiculous nickname, the fact that this is more than relief for them both now but they’re both too scared to be the first to say it, it all bubbles over and she pushes at his chest, “calling me that,” he grabs her wrists, spins her and presses her against the fridge, her arms trapped over her head with one of his large hands whilst the other creeps up her thigh, plays over the soft skin
“He’s never going to look at you like…like I look at you, but you’re too fucking blinded by his pretty face to notice,” he pushes his fingers inside her and she turns her face away from him, from his knowing gaze and he licks at the side of her neck, “He may treat you like a princess Rachel, but that’s all you’ll ever be to him,” he rolls his hips against her thigh, pushes his fingers in deeper, his thumb working its magic, “unobtainable and special, you’ll get bored of it,” Rachel’s fingers twitch, she pulls against his grasp but he holds on, tightening his grip and she shudders against the cool surface of the fridge, “I know you’re not breakable, I know you like to be fucked hard, you like bruises and bite marks,” he presses his lips to the bite mark on her shoulder to illustrate that point and Rachel moans, “You think Ross would do that to you? You think Ross would take you off the pedestal he has you on long enough to figure out what you really want?” Rachel comes, a whine caught in her throat and Kyle kisses her breath from her mouth, he lets her go suddenly, “I don’t want you on a pedestal Rach, I want you in my arms, in my bed, by my side. And when you’ve figured out what you want…don’t come crawling back,”
“Kyle,” she manages to get her voice back by the time he got his hand on the door, he pauses briefly but doesn’t turn around and is gone, the door slamming behind him, before Rachel can say another word.
…
She manages to avoid him the whole week, ducking her head as she walks past him and she can feel his eyes on her as she does it. The heavy gaze centred at the back of her neck. And sometimes she looks up from her desk and sees a glimpse of him walking around the corner.
“What’s up with you,” Mike says sticking his head around her office door and she sighs, feels like answering so many things but shrugs inelegantly instead. Mike sits in the chair in front of her desk, he looks harassed.
“Harvey’s in a bad mood, so’s Donna, Kyle’s being especially dickish and you’re pissed as well, if I didn’t know any better I’d say there was something in the water,” Rachel tries not to flinch at the mention of Kyle, “oh and don’t even get me started on Louis,” Rachel makes all the right noises, nods where needed, smiles and offers a sympathetic pat to the hand and then Mike’s off.
She watches him leave with a critical eye and is hit with the knowledge that even though when she looks at him, her stomach jumps, its with affection, with the love of a friend and the wish that she could love him more. Not the almost overwhelming lust, the need she feels whenever she looks at Kyle. With Kyle it’s different, its real and solid, based on truth of what they both wanted and needed. There would always be lies with Mike, Rachel lying about who she really is and what she really needs. Kyle already knows that.
And he still came back for more.
…
“Mike’s adorable,” she blurts as Kyle pulls his front door open. He looks like he’s going to slam it in her face so she takes a step forward and places her hand flat against it. “He’s adorable and would treat me like a princess, you’re right.”
“I’m not sure I get your point, Rach,” he sighs, standing aside and nodding his head in the direction of the kitchen. Rachel swallows and steps inside the apartment.
“He sees me as something to look after and maybe that’s what I want,” she says and Kyle frowns.
“Why are you here?”
“Maybe that’s what I want, but it’s not what I need,” she says and something flickers across Kyle’s face, “I need you,” Kyle sighs and Rachel wants to touch him, to feel him under her hands.
“Rach…”
“No listen,” Kyle snaps his mouth shut and Rachel takes a step forward. He’s leaning against his kitchen counter, arms crossed in front of him and as she gets closer he unfolds his arms and shoves his hands into his pockets but she takes it as a small victory. She reaches out, lets her fingers play over his belt buckle, his stomach moves as he breathes and he looks at her with bright green eyes. “I don’t need Mike the way I need you and I don’t want him either,” Kyle blinks, pulls his hands out of his pockets and they land on her hips, thumbs stroking gently.
“He can’t give you what I can,” Kyle says and Rachel nods.
“I know…Kyle…I’m so sorry,” much to her embarrassment she lets out a small sob and Kyle’s grip around her hips loosens and his hand slides around her back to pull her close. He tips her head back with his other hand, smiles gently.
“It’s ok Rach, it’s ok…”
“I don’t know what this is or where it’s going I just know I need it…I need you…and I…” her words are cut off by Kyle’s mouth kissing her hard, hands clamped around her face.
“I don’t know what this is either Rach, but I want it,” he says, pressing his hips to her and she tugs him closer by the belt loops on his pants.
“Kyle?” Kyle nudges her nose with his, licks at her lips and hums slightly, “I’m going to need you to do something for me,” she says and Kyle pulls back with a wary look on his face.
“What?”
“Fuck me,” he sighs dramatically and then grins at her, dimples flashing and she pushes her hands into the back of his pants. He mutters “so demanding” and kisses her again, still grinning as he lowers his mouth to hers and she feels the calm settle back into her stomach. Sometimes she can’t believe its Kyle that makes her feel like this, calm and sated without even so much as kissing her. His tongue slides across her lips, pushes into her mouth and she moans, standing on tip toes to get closer.
“You know what Rach?” he kisses her again not letting her answer and pulls back far enough to slide his mouth down her jaw, pulls her ear lobe in between his teeth.
“What?” His curls are thick between the fingers of the hand she tangles into his hair, the other hand still down his pants and pulling him forward.
“I want this,” he says again, breath hot in her ear, “but I need it too,” his tongue darts out to run along the shell and she shudders against him.
“So…”
“So how about I fuck you like you asked and then we figure this whole thing out?” he says, hauling her up around his waist. She wraps her legs around him and runs her hands through his hair.
“Sounds like a plan, Durant.”