Off The Record Ch. 11

Oh yeah, there's a murder trial still going on. We got a little bit distracted there with those last couple of chapters 😜

Back to our regularly scheduled yearning <3

All characters are over 18.

***

Morgan sat at attention, spine straight and hands folded neatly in front of her, as she listened to DA Moore conclude her opening statement.

She was just as good as Morgan had expected her to be, painting a perfect picture of Jaqueline Sterling, the loving housewife who could never be enough for her neglectful, abusive husband.

Too bad she was lying through her teeth.

Without physical evidence to tie Edward to the murder, it was clear that Angela and her team were leaning hard into the pathetic appeal of the case, relying on pulling the heartstrings of the jury to win.

Morgan studied the jurors, watching their facial expressions for any indication of what they were thinking. Despite her best efforts to get a male majority, they had settled with an even split of six men and six women, and, unfortunately, they all looked moved by what Angela was saying.

"By the time this trial is over, I will ask each one of you to come to the same conclusion that twelve of your fellow jurors did nearly twenty-five years ago--that Edward Sterling snapped that night, his erratic, irrational behavior finally hitting a fever pitch, resulting in the cold-blooded murder of his wife. Thank you."

She turned to the judge. "And thank you, Your Honor."

As she sauntered back to the prosecution table, Angela looked right at Morgan and winked, giving her an arrogant smirk.

It took everything in her not to visibly react; there were cameras in the courtroom today, as was expected for the entirety of the trial. To do something so bold was a privilege that only someone with a career like Angela could have.

If Morgan had done the same to her, her face would have been plastered all over the front page of every print and online news outlet with a condescending headline about the arrogant, young defense attorney who had the gall to tease the prosecution.

Despite Angela's efforts to rattle her, Morgan remained unphased by it.

In fact, she felt fucking fantastic today.

On a day where she had expected to feel nauseous with apprehension and anxiety, she felt like she was ready to take on the city of New York.

Who knew that all she'd needed this entire time was a day of sex with Harper to calm her nerves?

"The defense may now make its opening statement." Judge Richter inclined his head in Morgan's direction.

For a split second, Joel pressed his knee against hers, a comforting touch that encouraged her. With one more deep breath she stood, making her way over to the jury box slowly.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Good morning, Your Honor. Unlike the prosecution's opening statement, mine will be brief."

She steeled herself, grounding herself to the moment just like she always did when she was in the courtroom.

"Throughout the course of this trial, you will not hear a shred of evidence that conclusively supports the theory that Edward was responsible for the death of his wife, Jackie. You will not hear about DNA or blood evidence; you will not hear about suspicious search history on his cell phone or computer. That's why District Attorney Moore didn't make mention of it in her statement to you."

She walked down to the other end of the jury box. "Because it doesn't exist."

"What you will hear, instead, is the prosecution attempting to dismantle the credibility of every witness the defense calls to the stand. And they will do that because they have no means of proving beyond a reasonable doubt that Mr. Sterling had anything to do with the death of his wife."

"You will hear them dive into the transcripts and academic history of every expert witness we call to testify, questioning why they got an B+ in chemistry instead of an A fifteen years ago when they were freshmen in college. You will hear them delve into personal lives, details that have exactly zero relevance to the case, in an effort to distract from the fact that they are grasping at straws." She paused. "Because if you can't attack the evidence itself or the scientific methods used to analyze that evidence, the next logical offensive strike comes in the form of attacking the individuals responsible for testing the evidence."

This next part she was nervous for. Taking a deep breath, she turned in the direction of the prosecution table, behind which sat the cluster of Jackie's family members.

Her parents sat in the middle of the row, both much older and grayer than Morgan remembered from the footage she had seen of the original trial.

"Jackie's death was a tragic accident. On the night of October 13th, 2001, the world lost a loving daughter--" Her eyes shifted to a very angry-looking middle-aged man to the left of Jackie's father. "--a sister, and a wife."

Morgan turned back to look at the jury, taking a second to meet each of their eyes and holding for a moment to let her words settle.

"As you listen to everything presented to you during this trial, I implore you to remember that there is a reason that Mr. Sterling's original conviction was overturned, which is an incredibly rare occurrence in the criminal justice system. If there wasn't enough proof to keep him behind bars, how can we, in good faith, possibly convict him again? The evidence, or the lack thereof, will speak for itself. It's time to let Edward grieve for his wife without having to carry the blame for something he did not do. Thank you."

For a fleeting second, Morgan looked at Angela, seated at the prosecution table with her hands clasped daintily in front of her.

They made eye contact, and Morgan swore she saw Angela's lips curl upward ever so slightly at the corners in the ghost of a smile.

As she walked back to the table, Morgan resisted the urge to glance up at the gallery, where she was positive she would find hazel eyes locked onto her.

She hadn't actually seen Harper arrive today, but she knew she was here. It was like she could sense her presence.

There was also the fact that Harper had confirmed that she would be here right before she'd left the previous afternoon. Right before they'd made out like teenagers against the door to her apartment for about ten minutes, unable to keep their hands off of each other even as Harper had been trying to leave.

"Good luck tomorrow," she'd said quietly, her hand on the doorknob.

Her body language had taken on that adorable awkwardness, even more endearing now, after everything they'd just done together. Only Harper could knock on her door to demand sex and then be shy about it the next day.

Her eyes had flickered down to Morgan's mouth and Morgan watched as indecision crossed her face; she clearly wanted to kiss her goodbye, but wasn't sure what the rules were.

They probably shouldn't be kissing casually like that, especially if Harper was serious about this being a one-time thing.

But more than anything, she'd wanted Harper to know that they were okay. That the vibes between them wouldn't change because of the sex. And honestly, Morgan had been so high on everything about her at that moment that she really hadn't cared. They could iron out the details later.

So, Morgan had wrapped a gentle hand around her waist, pressed her back against the door, and kissed her slowly. Her knees had gone weak at the soft exhale that had left Harper as she'd melted into the kiss.

"Thank you, darling," she'd murmured against her mouth before deepening the kiss, trying to savor the taste of her if it truly would be the last time she had an opportunity to experience her like this. She ignored the dread that she felt deep in her stomach as she considered that possibility.

Morgan didn't do casual sex very well. In fact, she didn't do it at all. She was a relationship girl through and through, and in retrospect, she probably should have thought about how best to protect her heart before sleeping with Harper.

Because as Harper had kissed her, cupping her jaw like she was something to be cherished, Morgan knew that she was already gone.

Even before they'd kissed, Morgan had developed feelings for her.

She really was perfect.

She was sweet and kind and intelligent, and her skills in the bedroom were just the cherry on top of everything.

Honestly, she had trouble understanding why she hadn't been locked down by someone else already.

In the early days of them knowing each other, Morgan had tried to find something wrong with Harper in her efforts to ward off the attraction and affection she'd been feeling and she just...couldn't.

Every single interaction she'd had with Harper had only left her craving more of her--more of her mind and now that she'd experienced it, more of her body.

Was letting her sleep over and kissing her goodbye and calling her pet names the healthiest thing for either of them? Probably not.

But she had fallen completely under her spell and had exactly zero desire to break herself out of it.

Not yet, at least.

All of these thoughts flitted through her mind in the short time it took for her to walk from where she had been speaking to the jury back to the defense table.

Regaining her seat next to Joel, she inhaled deeply, slowly.

As much as her evening with Harper had calmed her, now was not the time to get lost in the memory of her--of her lips and her hands and her touch.

It was time to impress her.

Her responsibility to Edward and her team drove her to do well, but there was a part of her that wanted to prove to Harper that she was good at her job and that she wasn't all just arrogant talk.

She settled in as the prosecution called its first witness.

***

Morgan anxiously drummed her fingertips along the tabletop of the booth at the brunch spot that Joel had selected for their meeting.

Harper was expected to arrive any minute now, and Morgan wasn't sure what to do with herself.

She was nervous, and the feeling was entirely foreign to her. Work meetings didn't make her nervous. Harper didn't make her nervous. Joel didn't make her nervous.

But a combination of all of the above made her feel like she was going to be sick.

This was the first time the three of them would be meeting up together, and Morgan was more than a little worried that she wouldn't be able to keep her feelings for Harper off of her face in front of Joel, considering the fact that they'd had sex three days ago.

And they hadn't talked about it. Not in person or over text.

They hadn't even seen each other since Sunday, when Harper had left her apartment after completely turning her world upside-down.

The bell above the door to the restaurant chimed, and Morgan glanced up to see Harper enter through the double doors, stopping to offer the hostess a smile before she gestured in Morgan's direction and made her way over.

"Good morning," Morgan said, giving her a cautious smile.

Harper slipped her sunglasses up onto her head in a way that was so sexy it should have been illegal.

"Monroe," Harper said by way of greeting, a playful smirk on her face. She began shedding her peacoat and the black and white plaid scarf she had wrapped around her neck.

Relief flooded through Morgan as she returned the smile. She exhaled, a good portion of her stress melting away immediately.

She and Harper had parted on good terms after their night of phenomenal sex, but she wasn't sure exactly how Harper would react, seeing her again for the first time since.

It had been three days since they'd slept together. That was three days for Harper to panic, overthink, and regret what they'd done.

But where Morgan had expected at least a healthy dose of awkwardness from Harper, she was pleasantly surprised to see the confidence rolling off of her in waves.

With how hard she'd made Morgan come the other night, she should be confident.

Morgan allowed her eyes to roam, taking in the long-sleeved, skintight knit sweater dress that Harper was wearing. It was a deep forest green that brought out her eyes, and she'd matched it expertly with a pair of boots that came halfway up her calves. Morgan couldn't help but follow those legs up.

She licked her lips, reminded of the fact that she was lucky enough to know exactly what it felt like to have those strong thighs tighten around her head.

When Morgan's gaze drifted up to meet Harper's again, her breath caught at the heat in her stare.

"Can I help you?" she asked in a low, husky voice that made Morgan shiver.

"I think we both know that you're more than capable of...helping me," she said, matching the energy she was picking up on.

Harper stared at her for a beat longer, the tension between them thick. Finally, Harper broke eye contact and slid into the booth across from her.

"You don't want to sit next to me?" Morgan teased.

Harper rolled her eyes. "Where's Joel?"

"He'll be here in about a half hour. I asked you here earlier to make sure we're on the same page about everything." Morgan sipped her water.

Harper raised an eyebrow. "And I assume that's code for making sure that I don't tell Joel that we were in bed together a couple of nights ago?" The frankness of Harper's words jolted Morgan in the best way. She wasn't usually so direct.

Morgan blinked at her.

Harper leaned in. "Obviously, I'm not going to say anything to Joel. But if we're going to have the slightest chance of pulling this off without him noticing, I'm really going to need you to stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Morgan said, leaning closer.

Harper rolled her lips, and Morgan's eyes dipped to her mouth. A mouth that she now knew was very, very talented.

"The same way I'm looking at you," she said, her eyes dropping in turn to Morgan's lips.

Morgan sat back and let out a low chuckle. "Who are you and what have you done with Harper Cassidy?"

Harper's only response was a coy smile.

There was a lull in the conversation as the waitress brought them a basket of bread and some water before leaving them to themselves again.

"So," Morgan began casually, watching as Harper buttered a roll and placed it on Morgan's plate before reaching for another for herself, "did it scratch the itch for you?"

Harper tilted her head while she chewed her bite of bread. "To what, exactly, are you referring?"

Her tone was one of willful ignorance, clearly trying to force Morgan to say it rather than simply allude to it.

Morgan gave her a look.

"Do you want my Yelp review or something?" Harper asked with a disbelieving laugh.

"Sort of," Morgan said quietly. "Scale of one to ten?" She smiled gently, putting the ball back in Harper's court.

"So, just to be clear," Harper said, "you want me to rate the sex that we had?"

Morgan only smiled at her.

Harper pursed her lips, putting on a show of thinking really hard. Finally, she shrugged. "Like a five."

"A five?!"

Morgan glanced around, shrinking down slightly in their booth when she saw that she had drawn the attention of a few diners with her outburst.

Harper's eyes were wide, and she looked like she was struggling to hold back her laughter. "Yes, a five," she said, lowering her voice. "One point for every orgasm you gave me." She rested her chin in the palm of her hand, winking at her.

Well, that wasn't quite how Morgan remembered their evening together. "By that logic, shouldn't my grand total be a seven? Or are you just conveniently forgetting about the two from Sunday?" She raised a playful eyebrow at her as she sipped from her water glass.

Harper blinked at her, a slow smile curving those plush lips. "I didn't realize you'd been keeping count."

Morgan scoffed. She was pretty sure she had never paid more attention to anything in her entire life as she had to Harper and all of her little tells when she was close to finishing.

The way her muscles fluttered around Morgan's fingers and the way her right thigh started to shake right before her orgasm hit her. And then there was that sensitive spot just to the left of her clit that had driven her crazy when Morgan's tongue had licked at her just right--

No.

They were in public, and Morgan could not afford to go down that rabbit hole of memories when Joel would be arriving any minute now.

"Why can't you just let me have this?" She asked.

Harper sighed, wiping her hands on her napkin. "Because you're a masochist."

She leaned in across the table and Morgan's breath caught when she felt the toe of Harper's boot stroking against her calf beneath the table.

"There were three on Sunday, by the way, but that's beside the point."

Morgan barely had time to process that sentence before Harper kept speaking. "Do you really think it'll do you any good to know that you made me come harder than I ever have before?" Harper's eyes were dark. "No one--not even myself--has made me feel like that."

Morgan cleared her throat. "Harper, for the love of god." Her brain had gone fuzzy, even just the contact from her boot enough to turn her mind into mush.

"The sex was fantastic. The best I've ever had. Any other questions before your boss gets here?"

"Nope," Morgan said, looking down at her plate as she fought the smile that was pulling at her lips.

Harper smirked at her before raising her eyes over Morgan's shoulder. "Good."

And then she stood up, moving toward Morgan's side of the table. She tensed, not sure what was happening.

"It's good to see you, Joel," Harper said.

Morgan turned in the booth to see that Joel had materialized next to them.

He must have come in the other door.

Joel pulled Harper in for a tight hug, his friendly face red from the cold outside.

"You too," he said, pulling back and holding onto Harper by her shoulders. "You look well. I meant to ask you at the holiday party--how's Cammie doing?"

Morgan's ears perked up at that.

Who the fuck was Cammie and why did Harper's eyes light up like that at the mention of her?

Morgan felt her hackles rise, an ugly, loud jealousy rearing its head within her.

"She's good," Harper said, grinning. "The gym is doing really well and she loves it. She has more clients than she knows what to do with."

It occurred to Morgan in that moment that she'd never really put any thought into just how well Joel and Harper knew each other.

She had assumed that the connection was purely professional, that Joel had stumbled across her writing by happenstance and had liked the work she'd put out with the newspaper.

She made a mental note to ask Joel about it the next opportunity she had.

Once Joel and Harper settled into the booth, they ordered their meals before Harper pulled out her phone and set it on the table between them.

They had agreed to a very informal interview pertaining to the first few days of the trial, which had primarily been preliminary information and the testimony of a few character witnesses.

"I just want to reiterate that everything said from this point forward will be recorded and is officially on the record," Harper said. "Are you two okay with that?"

She and Joel both nodded.

"So," Harper began with a smile, "the district attorney really came out of the gates hard, didn't she?"

The fire that had fueled Morgan in the courtroom the past few days came rushing back at the mention of Angela, and before they knew it, thirty minutes of discussion had come and gone.

"How's the salad?"

Morgan looked up to find Harper looking at her, head tilted in that incredibly attractive way that she had.

"It's good," she replied. "I'd offer you a bite, but it has red onions in it."

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and simply hummed in response.

Over the course of their many meetings and meals together, Morgan had learned a lot about Harper's likes and dislikes, and red onions was at the very top of her dislike column.

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