Off The Record Ch. 18

Sorry this one took a little longer to publish--I wasn't going to include this chapter initially, but it does work pretty perfectly with my in-story timeline, and it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity to build the emotional tension while these two sort through their feelings.

That being said, this chapter is basically the result of me drinking wine while I was ovulating sooooo....enjoy :)

Call it a palate cleanser for all the drama that's on its way ;)

It's also another Harper POV, so apologies for breaking the pattern.

All characters are over 18.

***

Harper was ovulating.

That was a problem--a problem that Harper was painfully aware of as she sat on Morgan's couch, hoping she was convincing in her pretense of paying attention to the movie they were watching while she thought about all the ways she wanted to fuck Morgan.

Harper's sex drive was incredibly high at her baseline, but her ovulation cycle turned her into a wild animal.

Her mind was torturing her with delicious memories that flooded her body with heat and desire.

Like how they'd had sex on this very couch, right where Harper was sitting. How she'd had her head between Morgan's thighs in this exact spot, had wrapped her lips around her clit and made her come in her mouth while her hand had gripped Harper's head and--

No. It was absolutely not the time.

She bit back a groan as she pointedly did not look at Morgan, who was sitting three feet away from her, looking completely and utterly fuckable in her oversized maroon Stanford crewneck and her gray sweatpants, her bare feet tucked beneath her thighs.

They'd agreed to dress in cozy clothing, Harper opting for a pair of soft leggings and an extra large flannel.

The vibes were so weird between them today.

Which led Harper to confront her second problem, which was the fact that it was Valentine's Day.

When Harper had tested the waters and asked if she had any plans for this week, Morgan had stared at her for a beat, doing that thing that she did where Harper could tell she was trying to get a read on her.

"I'm free Wednesday," she'd said casually, dropping her eyes back to her desk, suddenly becoming very interested in the case file she was reading.

"Wednesday?" Harper had echoed back to her, like a complete fucking idiot.

Morgan offered a small smile and said, "Mmhmm. Does that work for you?"

In the split second that passed between Morgan's question and Harper's nod of confirmation, it felt like so much had been communicated, but not nearly enough.

And even now, at this very moment, neither of them had mentioned the fact that it was Valentine's Day or what that might mean for them. Maybe to Morgan, it was just February 14. Maybe Wednesday really had been the only night she'd been available this week. Maybe it meant nothing.

They'd ordered pizza and had some wine, and now they were watching some romantic comedy that Harper couldn't care less about.

She didn't want to watch a movie. What she wanted was to close the distance between them and cuddle up on the couch with Morgan and kiss her until she was dizzy.

God, she had it so bad.

It was only then that Harper realized through her daze that the movie had been paused.

She blinked rapidly to break herself out of her daydream, looking over at Morgan, who was watching her with an amused expression.

Morgan stood up and stretched her arms above her head, her sweatshirt riding up, revealing a tantalizing strip of smooth, tanned skin above the waistband of her pants.

Harper stared at that skin like it was the holy grail. Skin that Harper wanted to worship with her hands and her mouth.

When Harper's gaze finally lifted to Morgan's face again, she was met with startling cobalt eyes staring at her hard, glittering across the small space between them.

The hint of a smirk lifted the corner of her mouth.

"I'll be right back," she said, moving in the direction of her bedroom.

Harper watched her go, caving to her urges and fully staring at her ass as she went despite her best efforts to look literally anywhere else.

She took a moment to gather herself, burying her face in her hands. What the fuck was wrong with her?

Something had changed between them in the two weeks since Harper's birthday; she wasn't naive enough to deny that.

Right now, they were in this sort of limbo state, like they were both terrified to do anything except exactly what they'd been doing the entire time, just in case it all came crashing down around them.

So that's what they'd done. They'd continued to spend time together, worked together on reporting the trial coverage, and had sex that was really, really fucking good.

But they had also changed in certain ways. Like how they would talk late into the night about things that didn't revolve around the trial, wrapped up in each other's arms while they learned about each other. And how they sometimes just relaxed together, decompressing about their days without the need for physical intimacy.

Harper had no idea how long she'd been lost in thought before she heard Morgan.

"Harper, can you come here for a minute?" Morgan's voice called out from down the hallway.

Harper swiveled her head toward the question, furrowing her eyebrows.

She stood and padded toward Morgan's room.

"Did you get lost in your own bedroom?" Harper mumbled mostly to herself as she rounded the corner. "What's the matter--oh my god," Harper said, choking on the words that seemed to burst out of her involuntarily as the air slipped from her lungs, one hand coming up to steady herself against the doorframe.

Because Morgan was standing in front of her closet door wearing the sexiest set of lingerie that Harper had ever seen, a teasing little smile on her lips.

Not sure that her tongue would work properly, Harper allowed her eyes to take her in slowly. The deep crimson lace wrapped around her body like the most enticing present Harper had ever been gifted, just waiting to be unwrapped.

The scarlet bodysuit clung to Morgan's form in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Three gold heart-shaped clasps held the front of the piece together, her breasts spilling over the cups of the bra, chest heaving as she watched for Harper's reaction. Her already-hard nipples peeked through the sheer material.

Thin, satin straps of that same rich vermillion wrapped around her waist, leaving the back of the bodysuit almost entirely open, all of her smooth, flawless skin on display. The sides of her torso remained bare, allowing Harper a perfect view of that tattoo that she loved so much.

The bottom of the piece was criminal. It hugged the curve of her hips, the frilly lace dancing along the crease where her hip met her thigh, the fit of it snug enough to show off the defined contours of her ass.

And at the apex of her thighs, there was fucking nothing. The bodysuit was open, exposing Morgan entirely, along with the undeniable evidence of just how turned on she already was.

And in a nice touch that Harper had to believe was purposeful, the scarlet nail polish that neatly painted Morgan's fingernails and toenails matched the set perfectly.

Morgan in red was just...ridiculous.

Somehow, the color made the sapphire blue of her eyes pop impossibly brighter, like two gems set into her gorgeous face.

She looked like a delicious apple begging to have a bite taken out of her.

And Harper planned to.

Especially when Morgan's smirk grew into a sinfully wicked smile that told Harper that she knew exactly what she was doing.

The gloves were off, so to speak, and as Harper stalked toward Morgan like a lioness hunting her next meal, she had a strong suspicion that a lot of other things would be coming off soon as well.

"Did you buy this for me?" She murmured, running a fingertip beneath one of the thin crimson straps that covered Morgan's shoulder.

Morgan's face was the perfect picture of composure, but her breathing gave her away. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, her nostrils flaring at Harper's touch. "Yes," she whispered.

"And exactly how long did you have this little plan of yours in your back pocket, waiting to torment me with it?" Harper asked, letting the strap snap back to Morgan's skin, her hand changing course to brush her dark hair back to expose those beautiful collarbones.

"I was reading the room," she said, a cocky smile tilting her lips, swaying closer to Harper until they were nearly touching. "You're not exactly subtle, Cassidy."

Harper laughed, low in the back of her throat. "Seems like I'm not the only one whose mind was elsewhere during our very PG movie night. I wasn't sure if we were..." Harper trailed off, frowning, not sure what to say without giving herself away.

"You weren't sure if we were, what?" Morgan asked quietly, using her knuckle to nudge Harper's chin up to look at her.

There was something in Morgan's eyes that made her breath catch. An intense...something...that pulled at Harper's heart. In that silent blue gaze that searched Harper's face, it was like she could feel her pleading with her, almost begging her to just tell her what she was thinking.

But Valentine's Day was absolutely not the time to confess to being in love with her, especially not when it seemed like they were about to have sex.

"Um," Harper began haltingly, "I just wasn't sure if we were doing this tonight."

Morgan stared at her for a moment but then nodded in understanding.

She dipped her head, brushing their lips together. Harper sighed, reaching up and interlocking her fingers at the back of her neck to draw her down into a deeper kiss, suddenly starving for her. They hadn't kissed at all yet today, and Harper hadn't realized how much she'd come to rely on the simple contact to settle her.

Morgan's very capable fingers made quick work of the buttons on Harper's flannel, exhaling sharply when she saw that Harper too had worn a very sexy matching bra and underwear set, hers being white lace.

Just in case.

"I had a feeling," she murmured.

Morgan pushed the shirt off of Harper's shoulders and onto the floor, her eyes darkening as she took in Harper's chest.

Harper took her opportunity to slide her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings, pushing them down and kicking them away, evening the playing field.

"You look unbelievable," Harper said, running her hands over Morgan's chest, letting her thumbs brush against the hardened nipples that were poking through the fabric. She smirked at the sharp inhale she both felt and heard from Morgan. "But it seems kind of uncomfortable for a movie night," Harper said. "You should probably let me help you out of it."

"Probably," Morgan said, her voice breathy and strained.

Harper flattened her palm flat against Morgan's chest. "Your heart is racing."

"It always does when you look at me like that," Morgan rasped out, her voice carrying that delicious thickness that it took on when she was turned on.

"Tell me what you want," Harper murmured.

What a loaded fucking request. Harper realized too late that maybe she had just set both of them up to face the reality of their situation before either of them was ready.

Harper desperately wanted to know what Morgan wanted, and if what she wanted happened to be her. She just wasn't sure if she was mentally prepared to handle it if the answer to that question was no.

But luckily, for the sake of the evening, Morgan took Harper's words at face value, focusing on the present.

Morgan gripped her jaw firmly and kissed her hard, her teeth sinking into Harper's bottom lip, her tongue following to soothe the slight sting.

"First," she purred, "I want you to tie me to the bed with these."

Out of seemingly nowhere, Morgan procured two red silk ribbons.

Harper took in a deep breath through her nose as she looked at the crimson pieces of fabric dangling from Morgan's index finger, imagining them around Morgan's wrists.

"I want you to choose one or two of the filthy thoughts that were flitting through that pretty head of yours the whole time you were pretending to pay attention to the movie."

Amusement flashed in Morgan's eyes as Harper gave her a playful, guilty look through her eyelashes.

Morgan leaned in closer, her fingertips tightening their grip on her chin. "And then I want you to do whatever the fuck you want to me."

Harper's stomach bottomed out, the force of her desire almost knocking her back a step.

She'd held herself back long enough.

"Get on the bed," she growled, trying to catch her breath.

"Yes, ma'am," Morgan drawled, walking backwards with Harper's hands in her own. When she reached the bed, she turned and crawled into position, throwing Harper a scorching look over her shoulder.

Harper climbed up after her, straddling her stomach while she fastened the silk ties to the headboard.

Generally speaking, Morgan and Harper were very balanced sexually. While Morgan leaned more toward the dominant end of the spectrum and Harper more toward the submissive, they both enjoyed switching the roles up, depending on the mood.

There had been the occasional night where Morgan just wanted someone to take the reins from her and take control of her--to simply let her feel--and Harper was more than eager to fulfill that need for her.

That being said, there had never been anything like this. They'd never explored the use of restraints, although Harper had used them in the past, and she definitely enjoyed it.

When the silk ties were in place, Harper used one hand to caress Morgan's jaw, taking her chin between her thumb and forefinger to tilt her head back for a deep kiss.

"Do you want a safe word?" She asked, only half-teasing.

"Fuck no," Morgan said. "Don't stop unless I pass out."

Harper laughed quietly at her eagerness, giving her one more quick kiss before she continued moving down her body.

"Take your bra off," Morgan said.

Harper paused in her descent, raising an amused eyebrow at her. "You aren't really in any position to be making demands, Miss Monroe." Harper punctuated her words by scratching her fingernails down Morgan's inner thigh. The touch had its desired effect, Morgan's legs widening even further as a low groan left her.

She watched Morgan flex her hands where they were secured above her head, the tiniest, most adorable hint of frustration crossing her expression.

Giving her a smoldering smile, Harper indulged her, maintaining scorching eye contact while she slowly reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting the straps fall down her shoulders. She felt her nipples tighten, both from the cool air of the bedroom against her flushed skin and from the way Morgan was looking at her, unfiltered desire shining through the depths of her blue eyes.

She settled between Morgan's legs, taking her time admiring the soaking wet pussy that was perfectly on display for her, surrounded by that sexy red lace.

Harper pressed a light kiss right above her clit, looking up at her through her eyelashes.

She was hit with a wave of arousal so strong that it made her lightheaded. Morgan was entirely at her mercy. Harper was going to devour her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Using her fingers to spread her open wider, Harper dragged her tongue up the length of her and back down again in slow, deliberate strokes, always stopping right before she reached her clit.

She edged her relentlessly, alternating between gentle kisses that teased her with the promise of more and more deliberate licks that gave her just enough direct contact to drive her insane, but she never gave her enough to come.

Morgan's left thigh began trembling against Harper's ear, her moaning becoming louder as she pushed herself up into Harper's mouth. She was close.

Right about now was usually the time when Harper would feel those long fingers slide into her hair, biting into her scalp while Morgan chased her orgasm.

And as much as Harper loved it when Morgan took what she needed from her and used her lips and her tongue as her own personal sex toys, Harper held the power right now. Morgan had wrapped herself up in this mouth-watering, delectable outfit, serving herself up on a platter to Harper, and she'd be damned if she didn't thoroughly enjoy her meal. She was going to watch Morgan unravel slowly.

With one more broad lick, Harper pulled back, pressing a gentle kiss to the little constellation of freckles that painted the inner crease of Morgan's thigh.

Morgan's hips rose off the bed, chasing the contact as an adorable, disappointed moan slipped from her lips.

Harper licked her lips, savoring the taste of her. God, she was fucking covered in her.

She watched as Morgan tugged at the restraints again, lifting her head to gaze down at Harper with hazy blue eyes.

"Harper," she groaned. "Don't stop. I was so fucking close."

She arched her hips up again, and Harper planted both hands firmly on her pelvis, pinning her to the bed.

"Behave or I'll tie your legs down too," Harper growled. "You put on this pretty lingerie for me, and I'm going to take my time enjoying it. You'll come when I allow you to come."

She watched as a full-body shudder worked its way through Morgan like an electric current, her lips parting in undisguised arousal. A visceral satisfaction settled low in Harper's stomach, feeling herself get wetter at the knowledge that Morgan liked it when Harper talked to her like that.

Harper shifted closer, wrapping her arms around Morgan's ass. In one smooth motion, Harper pulled her forward, spearing Morgan's pussy on her tongue.

Morgan cried out sharply, writhing against Harper's mouth.

Harper's eyes fluttered closed, moaning at the taste of her, at the way her thighs tightened around her head. She curled her tongue inside of her, Morgan's velvety walls fluttering around her, the evidence of her pleasure dripping down Harper's chin.

A thrill unlike anything Harper had ever experienced ran through her. This woman currently had the city of New York in the palm of her hand.

And Harper had her in her mouth. Felt how hard her clit was as it twitched against her tongue, watched as the muscles of her stomach coiled tighter as Harper drove her closer and closer to the edge.

She was so incredibly lucky to be with her, to get to experience every part of her, publicly and privately. Morgan was hers, and Harper was going to take every chance she got to remind her.

She sucked Morgan's clit into her mouth, massaging it between her lips while she attacked it with her tongue, the blood rushing in her ears drowning out everything that existed outside of this moment, this bed, and those perfect little whimpers coming from above her.

With Harper's name tearing from her throat on a desperate moan, Morgan came, both of her legs shaking as Harper worked her through it. She held her steady, lapping at her until Morgan's body stopped trembling, and her head fell back against her pillows.

Harper took her time kissing her way back up Morgan's twitching body.

"Do you want a break?" Harper asked, stroking her thumb across Morgan's cheekbone before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. "Because I'm not done with you." She dragged her index finger across Morgan's bottom lip.

"No, I don't want a break," she said, her voice rough. Her eyes darkened, her blue eyes nearly blackened with lust. "I want you to go into the bottom drawer of my nightstand, get my strap, and fuck me with it."

Harper blinked at her, her brain struggling to process her words even as her body reacted violently to them, her stomach lurching with a sharp arousal that travelled lower and pooled between her legs.

Throughout the past few weeks, they'd used Harper's strap frequently, but Morgan had always been the one wearing it. And she'd never expressed any outward desire for Harper to use it on her.

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