Off The Record Ch. 16

Don't read this one in public...

Hope you enjoy <3

All characters are over 18

***

"Are you busy this weekend?" Morgan asked breathlessly between kisses.

Harper's eyes blinked open, obviously confused at Morgan's question when they'd been actively making out for the past ten minutes. Her hands flexed where they were resting against Morgan's neck. "This weekend?"

"Mmhmm," Morgan said, pressing her lips to the corner of her mouth. "I'd like to see you. Maybe Saturday?"

Morgan had decided that she simply didn't care anymore when it came to treading carefully in her situation with Harper. She'd dove into this headfirst, and she wasn't going to hesitate anymore when it came to asking for what she wanted; and what she wanted was to spend time with Harper on the weekend.

It's not like they had to call it a date or anything.

"I can't this Saturday," Harper said, a flush creeping up her neck. She hesitated for a moment before she continued, "There's this event that I go to every year. It's a meet and greet for some of the kids in the foster system that the city puts together every winter. It's basically just a field day for them. You know, things like sporting events and games all day where they can meet prospective families who are interested in adopting."

She toyed with the hair at the nape of Morgan's neck, massaging her fingers into the base of the bun her hair was in.

"Cam and I volunteer every year to help out--to coach the teams of kids or whatever they need. The one in January is particularly important to me because I know how rough the winters can be in the homes when it's too cold to really do anything."

Morgan stared at her for a moment, smiling at her adorable rambling. She loved how comfortable Harper had become opening up to her. Before she could decide if she was overstepping, she asked, "Are outsiders welcome?"

Harper turned her head sharply to look at her. "You want to come?"

Morgan offered a gentle smile. "Of course I do. I'd love to help."

Harper eyed her for a few seconds and said, "You aren't very sporty."

"Excuse you," Morgan scoffed, feigning offense as she pulled her further into her lap and peppered her jawline with kisses that quickly turned into bites.

Harper giggled when Morgan's hands found the spot under her ribcage that she'd learned was one of Harper's most ticklish spots.

"It starts at eight," Harper said softly, tilting her head up for another kiss. "I'll send you the address."

***

And that was how Morgan found herself at a massive indoor rec center early that Saturday morning.

Admittedly, it wasn't quite her scene.

A quick glance around the arena told her that she wasn't dressed entirely appropriately in her plain black short-sleeved jumpsuit. It was comfortable enough, but probably wouldn't give her the same range of motion as the athletic gear she saw almost everyone else around her wearing.

At least she'd thought to wear sensible shoes.

There were children everywhere, running around and eating snacks and stretching on the fields.

And then she saw her, that radiant hair catching the sunlight that was streaming through the glass roof of the building.

Morgan lowered her sunglasses to take in Harper's form as she moved gracefully across the field, leading a group of elementary-aged kids in some light warm-up drills.

She was so fucking hot.

Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, a few loose tendrils framing her face, having worked themselves free with the exertion of the morning.

Her dryfit T-shirt clung to her curves, and her shorts were just long enough to stop Morgan from drooling, but she couldn't possibly forget the fact that she knew exactly how that perfect body looked beneath those clothes.

"She should be done in a few minutes."

Morgan stiffened and turned toward the voice that came from her immediate left.

A woman with flawless dark skin stood at her elbow, regarding her with a guarded, scrutinizing look.

"Oh, um--" Morgan began, thrown off by the unexpected interaction.

"You're taller than you look on TV," she commented, her striking dark eyes running down the length of her.

Morgan closed her mouth and took a moment to gather herself before she answered. While Morgan didn't know who this was, this woman obviously knew who she was due to the trial coverage.

The woman looked a few years older than her, probably closer to Maeve's age. She was wearing a neon green tank top that showed off well-defined arms, and her athletic capris revealed equally muscled calves. Her shock of beautiful dark curly hair had been wrestled into a tight bun.

"It's not exactly a courtroom atmosphere, is it?" The woman offered her hand to Morgan with a smile and said, "I'm Cameron, Harper's sister."

Oh. Duh.

How could Morgan have been so stupid? Of course Harper's sister had known she was coming--she should have expected to be approached by her. Especially since Harper had guiltily admitted to her a few nights ago that Cameron was fully aware of what had been going on between them.

Harper had been so worried that Morgan would be angry with her for telling someone, but in reality, Morgan had been flattered that Harper had felt the need to talk to her sister about her.

The sister that had just caught her staring longingly at Harper across the field.

Great.

"Morgan Monroe," she said, desperately trying to recover, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake.

Why was she so nervous? She hadn't ever been one to panic when meeting the families of women she'd dated in the past.

But there was a fierce protectiveness in Cam's intense stare, and Morgan had to fight to stop herself from fidgeting.

"She told me you were coming." A spark of mischief flashed in her dark eyes. "She also told me not to talk to you alone. So, naturally, I ignored her."

Morgan laughed. "I'd do the same if it were my sister," she said.

Cameron only hummed, following Morgan's gaze to where it was locked onto Harper once again.

"How often do they have events like these?" Morgan asked.

Cam gave her a sad smile. "Not nearly often enough."

Morgan nodded in understanding and an amiable silence fell between them as they watched Harper and her gaggle of little players.

Morgan felt a smile touch her lips as she watched her kneel in the center of their circle, presumably giving them a pep talk. She clapped her hands together twice and stood, spinning in a circle to give every kid a high five before the huddle broke, children scattering off in every direction like water from a sprinkler.

Harper stayed where she was, taking a moment to lift her head and close her eyes, taking in the warm rays of the mid-morning sun streaming through the glass roof.

"My sister would love this," Morgan said, watching the horde of hungry children swarm the snack table. Fruit, granola bars, and water bottles were passed around. "She's amazing with kids."

"Is she a teacher or something?" Cam asked.

"She's a pediatric surgeon," Morgan said, smiling as she thought about Maeve.

Cam let out a scoff. "Christ. Lots of highly educated, successful women in your family, huh? Does your sister also look like Aphrodite?"

Morgan just threw her a self-deprecating smile. "Maeve is beautiful," she said.

Cameron sobered and said, "For a lot of these kids, this is the highlight of their entire year. It's always nice to see new faces come around."

Reluctantly, Morgan tore her eyes from Harper to give her full attention to Cam, who was staring at her with a startling intensity.

Her gorgeous black curls stayed perfectly in place as she tilted her head at Morgan, narrowing her eyes slightly.

"Why did you come today, Morgan?"

Morgan didn't need to be a genius to hear the actual questions lying beneath the surface that she knew Cam really wanted to ask her.

What are your intentions with my sister? What's your endgame? Are you going to hurt her?

This was a test, and it was one that Morgan was keen to pass. In the milliseconds that passed between Cam's question and her answer, every possible response that she could offer her ran through her head.

Because I'm desperate to have every single minute with Harper that I can get. Because she's perfect. Because I'm falling in love with her.

All true, but none of those responses was appropriate.

That last thought was a realization that had recently slammed into Morgan with enough force to knock the breath from her lungs.

It had occurred to her during such a mundane moment, too. It was during their most recent interview, and Morgan had been waiting patiently for Harper to review her list of questions while they sat on the couch.

There had been something about the way Harper's brow had furrowed while she chewed on the end of her pen, those cute glasses slipping down her nose. The way that Morgan had noted that she never wanted to live without the easy silence that always existed between them whether they were working or lying beside each other at night.

'I think I'm in love with her.'

The thought had gone just as rapidly as it had come, and Morgan had sat there, startled by the realization.

She wasn't sure she'd ever been in love before, because she'd never felt for anyone the way she felt about Harper.

But she wasn't going to tell Cam that.

So, as she met Cam's sharp onyx eyes with her own, she settled for the simplest truth. "Because I told Harper I would," she said with a shrug. "And because I wanted to come."

The hint of a smile lifted the corner of Cam's mouth, and Morgan knew that she was happy with her response.

"Feel free to take a seat on the bleachers while you wait," Cam said, tilting her head toward the metal seating behind them. She lifted the clipboard in her hands. "I have to go check on something but I'll be back shortly."

Morgan settled down on the front row of the bleachers and lost herself in her email for a few minutes.

"You're up, Monroe."

Morgan looked up at the familiar voice, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun.

Harper stood in front of her, smiling that gorgeous smile down at her, a soccer ball perched against her hip, a mesh jersey hanging from her other hand.

"I think I'd prefer to watch, if that's okay," Morgan said. "I'm not as athletic as I used to be."

"I beg to differ," Harper teased, a suggestive glint in her eye. "I have firsthand experience that says otherwise."

Morgan smirked at her. "I'm athletic when I want to be," she corrected. "When the reward outweighs the effort..." She trailed off, running her eyes down Harper's body. "But I'd really like to avoid embarrassing myself in front of you today if I can help it."

In a move so quick that Morgan didn't even realize what had happened until it was over, Harper snatched Morgan's phone from her hands, moving just out of her reach.

"Hey--" Morgan began, standing up and taking a step toward her.

"One soccer scrimmage and then you can have it back," Harper cut her off.

"That is so not happening," she said. She held out her hand, silently demanding her phone back.

Harper narrowed her eyes at her. "Come and get it," Harper taunted, jogging backwards a few steps and bouncing on her toes.

Morgan just looked at her, channeling her attorney skills to stare her down, one eyebrow raised in challenge.

Harper deflated. "Fine," she mumbled, holding the phone out.

As Morgan took her phone back, Harper's fingers caressed hers, sliding down to trace little circles across the back of her hand.

"Please?" She asked in a last ditch effort. "For me?"

Morgan gave her a look and took a step closer to her, lowering her voice. "Are you seriously using my affection for you to manipulate me?"

Harper fluttered her lashes as she blinked those big, gorgeous eyes at her. "Is it working?"

"That's low, Cassidy." But she was smiling as she slipped her phone in her pocket and held her hand out for the scrimmage jersey Harper was holding.

"Really?" Her eyes lit up.

"Just give me the ugly mesh jersey thing before I change my mind," she said.

Clamping her mouth shut, Harper held it out to her wordlessly.

"I'll go get one for myself too," Harper said quickly, jogging back toward the bench.

Morgan frowned as she rubbed the vibrant orange water wicking fabric between her fingertips. It had been forever since she'd worn one of these.

She slipped it over her jumpsuit as she watched Harper approach with her own purple jersey, trying to ignore how obvious it was that Harper was holding herself back from bursting out laughing as she took in Morgan's look.

"Cute," she commented, fighting her smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Morgan said with an eyeroll. "Where to?"

"Come on," Harper said, pulling Morgan by the hand. "I'll warm you up."

"You always do," she muttered.

Harper threw her a look over her shoulder. "We'll do a few simple drills. I'll even let you have the ball first."

"And they say chivalry is dead," Morgan drawled, unashamedly staring at Harper's ass as she led her to an empty field.

Morgan chuckled under her breath as she watched Harper's swaggering walk toward the goal. This was going to be fun.

Harper dropped the ball on the ground and kicked it over to Morgan, who reflexively rolled it under her foot and balanced on it.

"Dribble it past me," Harper challenged, bending slightly and placing her hands on her knees.

Morgan shifted the ball of her foot, getting a feel for the ball beneath her. It had been so long since she'd done this.

She took one more look at Harper's cocky smirk and hesitated for one second before she faked to the left and kicked the ball between Harper's legs, toying with her, bringing the ball around again.

Harper blinked at her. "Beginner's luck," she mumbled.

Morgan grinned at her. "Must be."

With a flick of her heel, Morgan popped the ball up and over Harper's head, where it plunked down softly behind her on the field.

She slipped around Harper and popped the ball up again, catching it cleanly against her laces, sending it sailing into the back of the net.

"Oh," Morgan said, turning back to Harper where she stood there, dumbstruck, "did I forget to mention that I played soccer while I was at Stanford?"

"You...you what?" Harper shook her head, confused. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Jogging back from the net with the ball, Morgan juggled it between her knees before kicking it in the air to Harper, who caught it easily. "It never came up," she said with a shrug. "I may or may not have an NCAA championship or two under my belt."

Harper shook her head in disbelief, looking like she couldn't decide between being offended or impressed. "And here I was, ready to take it easy on you."

"Funny," Morgan said. "I was thinking the same about you."

Without warning, Harper dropped the ball to the ground and kicked it hard, but Morgan managed to block it at the last second.

"Unfair," Harper said, fighting to get the ball back. "Your legs are way longer than mine."

"Sounds like an excuse to me," Morgan responded, breathless as she slipped her foot between Harper's legs to steal the ball.

"I can't believe you hustled me, Monroe," Harper said breathlessly as they battled for control. "I guess that perfect body doesn't come as effortlessly as you'd have us all believe."

Harper's suggestive flirting made Morgan stumble, her toe catching the back of Harper's sneaker and sending them both tumbling to the grass.

They collapsed onto the ground in a tangle of limbs and laughter, Harper landing on top. Morgan wasn't sure how she managed it, but at the last second, Harper slid her hand beneath her head to cushion her fall.

Morgan groaned. "This is why I don't play sports anymore, Cassidy. I'm pushing thirty."

"You seemed to be doing just fine," she said.

Morgan reached up to brush away some dirt from Harper's cheek.

Harper was staring down at her, the smile on her face one of Morgan's favorites. Simple, sweet, and quietly beautiful.

But then her eyes dipped to Morgan's lips, and a familiar heat reflected in the amber of her eyes.

"Don't look at me like that while we're surrounded by children," Morgan murmured in a low voice.

"Like what?" She asked, leaning down a little closer.

They both flinched when the shrill blow of a whistle sounded right next to them.

"Alright, alright. Don't make me get the hose out on you two," Cam said, a knowing grin on her face.

With a sly wink, Harper rolled off of her and shot to her feet, extending a hand down to help Morgan up.

"Let's go, Hope Solo. You're captaining the other team. Winner gets a back massage tonight."

***

Morgan's team lost.

But it certainly didn't feel that way as she straddled Harper's ass later that night, wearing nothing but a pair of thin underwear as she made good on their deal to award the winner a massage.

Morgan was thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Harper's smooth back against her hands when Harper finally broke the easy silence between them.

"Thank you for coming today," Harper's soft voice came from below her.

Morgan smiled, digging the palm of her hand into Harper's shoulder blade. "Of course. I had a lot of fun."

And it was true. Morgan had had more fun today than she'd had in a very long time.

It had been nice to let loose a little after months of stressing about work, even if it wasn't the most traditional way of decompressing.

It turned out that her soccer skills weren't as rusty as she thought they would be, the motions coming back to her the more she'd played with the kids. By the time the morning had transitioned into afternoon, she'd taught a seemingly never ending line of eager children a few simple tricks, like juggling and popping the ball.

And Harper had been looking at her like she hung the stars, which was an added bonus.

She'd even caught Cam raising her eyebrows at her at one point, an approving smile tilting her lips.

Overall, it was a great Saturday, and it had only gotten better when they'd gotten back to Harper's apartment.

"The kids loved you," Harper said, following her comment with a groan as Morgan found a particularly nasty knot. "And I think Cam liked you too," she added quietly.

"I'd be more than happy to tag along to any other events in the future," Morgan said, meaning it.

Harper squirmed below her, shifting until she was on her back.

Morgan felt arousal pulse through her as she took in Harper's bare chest, her breasts swaying as she settled.

And just like that, her attention shifted, her mind changing course entirely.

"You," she murmured, "have the greatest tits I have ever fucking seen." She reached down to take one in the palm of her hand, groaning at the feeling of her nipple hardening at her touch.

Harper's eyes darkened as she looked up at her, her hand coming up to lace her fingers through Morgan's, squeezing gently.

"You think so?" Harper asked, teasing. "You know, this isn't exactly what I meant when I said I wanted a massage," Harper said, her voice dipping low with desire.

"It's not my fault you turned over," Morgan said, smirking down at her.

Morgan's breath left her in a rush when Harper's free hand came up to play with her other nipple, pinching it hard enough to make herself moan.

Morgan's gaze locked onto the motion, licking her lips, her throat suddenly parched.

She was, admittedly, a boob girl.

And if the sexy smirk she wore was any indication, Harper knew it.

They'd had sex enough times by now to have learned each other's preferences and turn-ons, and anything involving Harper's chest brought Morgan to her fucking knees.

Harper reached one hand up to cup Morgan's breast, tracing her thumb across her nipple--and then yelped when Morgan shifted where she was straddling her, pulling one of Harper's legs up to rest against her torso.

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