Off The Record Ch. 08

I'm happy you all seemed to enjoy Chapter 07

And for those of you calling me a tease--thank you, I try ;) But seriously - our girls deserve far better than a quickie in an office for their first time together.

Enjoy <3

All characters are over 18.

***

Morgan attempted to read through the draft of her opening statement for what felt like the fiftieth time this morning, only to make it less than halfway through before losing her focus yet again.

She was sitting on the couch in her office, her laptop sitting uncomfortably on her legs as she tried to convince herself that she was making headway.

She knew that she was lying to herself.

The first day of the trial was approaching quickly, and she had had every intention of buckling down first thing this morning to put the finishing touches on her material, but as soon as she had sat down in her chair, all she had been able to think about was how Harper had been sitting in this exact spot less than twelve hours ago, looking completely and utterly stunning in that devastating dress that had made her hazel eyes look greener than Morgan had ever seen them.

Morgan groaned at the memory, glaring up at her desk. Fucking traitor.

She still couldn't quite believe what had happened last night. An evening that had begun just like any other holiday office party had spiraled out of control so rapidly that it felt like a fever dream.

The moment she'd seen Harper across the room standing in that gorgeous dress that flowed along her body like it had been poured over her, Morgan knew she would have to make a conscious effort to behave.

She didn't want to make her uncomfortable, especially since the last time they'd been together at Harper's apartment, it had been awkward, to say the least.

But Morgan had been good, for the most part. Sure, she'd stolen glances at her and made a few flirtatious comments like always, but she had been determined to keep her hands to herself for the evening.

Morgan's eyes flickered back to that godforsaken desk and the phantom memories of what it felt like to truly touch Harper. She flexed her hand over her keyboard, remembering the feeling of the smooth, flushed skin of her thigh against her roaming fingertips.

She blew out a slow breath.

It wasn't even her fault. Surely, they had to share the blame, at least a little bit.

Because Harper absolutely annihilating Ryan in Morgan's defense hadn't been on her bingo card. That was a fun little treat that she wished she'd recorded.

And what came after had been even less predictable. Or maybe it was the most predictable thing ever, depending on how you looked at it.

After Harper had fled the table, that painfully awkward, deafening silence had continued in her absence, none of them sure exactly what to say in the aftermath of the absolute massacre that had just taken place before their very eyes.

Ryan had been red in the face, adjusting his tie uneasily while he avoided eye contact with everyone, and Rachel looked like she wanted to disappear under the table.

Morgan knew she should go after Harper, watching as she disappeared down the hallway in the direction of the bathrooms where she no doubt would be beating herself up over what she'd said.

But it was like Morgan was shackled to her chair, still thinking about each and every thing Harper had listed in her passionate response to Ryan's belittling of Morgan. Things that Morgan knew she hadn't told her about herself. Things that made it impossible to halt the free fall she had found herself in when it came to Harper.

In the end, it had been Joel who had broken the table out of its speechlessness.

"Well," he'd said, rapping his knuckles twice against the tabletop, "you seem to have made quite the impression on her, Morgan. I'm glad to hear that you've been representing the firm well."

And then Morgan had had to excuse herself, because in the look he gave her, it was clear that he was barely holding back laughter.

And Morgan didn't have as impressive a poker face as he did.

She'd decided to go check on Harper, but when she wasn't in the bathroom, she had a sneaking suspicion that she knew where she might find her.

And what had followed in her office was just delicious.

Morgan still didn't know what had possessed her to come on to Harper the way she did.

Maybe it was the residual adrenaline from seeing her rip into Ryan. Maybe it was seeing her explore Morgan's office with her innate curiosity. Maybe Morgan had finally just hit her breaking point.

She really didn't know.

But what she did know was that Harper didn't stop her.

Didn't stop her hands from exploring her curves or touching her face and neck. Didn't stop her from backing her up against the desk until their hips were aligned, mere pieces of fabric separating them.

And then Harper had called her...what was it again? Absurdly fucking hot?

And Morgan had just...snapped.

All of the tension, all of the attraction that existed between them felt like it had combusted at the exact moment their lips connected.

Not surprisingly, kissing Harper was just as earth-shattering as Morgan had expected it to be, if not more so.

And in her office, of all places.

In retrospect, she probably should have considered just how much making out with Harper in her office, on top of the desk that she used every day, would impact her ability to be productive.

Even just walking through her door this morning had flooded her with thoughts of how erotic it had been to have Harper pressed up against her desk, running her hands over her body through the thin material of that dress, Harper's mouth hot and ravenous against hers.

The fucking sounds she'd made while Morgan had kissed her were playing on a loop in her brain.

More than anything, though, Morgan was putting the vast majority of her energy toward not thinking about just how close she'd come to fucking Harper right there on her desk. How she had been literal inches from feeling how wet she was. And somehow, instinctively, Morgan had known that she'd been soaked.

Morgan certainly had been.

She squeezed her eyes closed as she fought the wave of heat that lanced through her.

Because the sexiest thing about all of it was that Harper had wanted her to know how turned on she was.

Morgan thought back to that first night they'd met. Apparently, Harper didn't always need to use her words to tell women exactly what she wanted.

The assertive hand that had guided Morgan's own back between her thighs after she'd spread them to pull Morgan closer certainly seemed clear enough.

That thought made Morgan open her eyes and snap her laptop shut. She just needed to take a break. A quick walk to the coffee shop around the corner in the cold winter air should clear her head and help her escape the distraction of last night. Something to keep her mind off of Harper so she could at least make it through her day without--

A knock on the door broke into Morgan's chaotic thoughts and she turned to see Jennifer poking her head around the doorframe.

"Good morning. Harper Cassidy is here to see you," she said.

Morgan stood up so quickly she barely caught her laptop as it threatened to thump to the floor.

"Why?" she blurted out.

Jenn furrowed her brow in confusion and gave Morgan a quizzical look.

"Um, I think you would probably know more about that than I would," she said.

But Morgan didn't have time to collect her thoughts or prepare herself at all, because Jennifer was already gone, and Harper was standing in front of her.

Fucking hell.

Morgan loved seeing Harper dressed up in elegant gowns and evening wear, but seeing her dressed for work turned her on more than anything.

Today, Harper was wearing a blue and white striped button down tucked into a high-waisted pair of navy blue dress slacks. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows and she carried her satchel over one shoulder. Her hair, which Morgan had finally gotten to run her fingers through last night, was half up and half down, framing her beautiful face in a way that highlighted her prominent cheekbones.

"Hi," Harper said cautiously.

She gave Morgan a tight smile before turning to close the door behind her. At the last second, she threw Morgan a hesitant look, seemed to think better of it, and left it cracked.

"What are you doing here?" Morgan asked, hoping that the panic she felt spreading across her chest wasn't bleeding into her voice.

Harper turned to face her, head tilted in confusion. "It's Monday, right? Did I mix up the days?" She scrambled to get her phone out of her back pocket and scrolled for a few seconds. She nodded to herself before looking back at Morgan. "We've had this meeting set for weeks. The final preliminary interview before the trial starts."

Morgan resisted the urge to face palm. She was an idiot. "Right, of course. I apologize, I must have forgotten."

Harper blinked at her. "You forgot," she echoed. "You, Morgan Monroe, Wonder Woman herself, forgot?"

Morgan felt a little bit of the tension leave her shoulders at Harper's teasing compliment. "I've just been a little distracted this morning."

Harper's face gave nothing away as she nodded, avoiding eye contact. She fiddled with the strap of her bag. "Distracted?" She asked. There was the slightest hint of...something in her voice. "Is everything okay?"

Morgan narrowed her eyes.

Was she serious?

She looked hard at Harper, trying to decipher that look in her eyes.

Harper made a weak attempt to disguise the smirk that began lifting the corner of her mouth, but it was too late.

"Everything is perfectly fine."

Harper lingered near the doorway as she said, "If you have too much going on today, we can always reschedule. We still have plenty of time."

Morgan hesitated for a fraction of a second as she seriously considered Harper's offer--mostly because she wasn't sure that she would be able to sit across from her for long without her eyes drifting down to admire how that shirt clung to Harper's chest.

"No, it's okay. Please, make yourself comfortable," Morgan said, rubbing a hand across her forehead before she pulled herself together. She was an adult who could control her most primal urges. With a newfound resolve, she started to move toward Harper.

"What are you doing?" Harper asked sharply.

Morgan halted her steps.

"Getting you a cup of coffee." Morgan gestured to her little coffee bar and waited until Harper finally nodded slowly, still eyeing Morgan like she didn't believe her.

Harper practically ran to the couch to avoid Morgan as she approached the coffee pot, and her skittishness made Morgan feel more settled with her own anxiety. She smiled to herself and shook her head while the coffee brewed. She was being ridiculous. Of course things were going to be slightly awkward, but they'd get through it. They simply had to.

Morgan fixed Harper's coffee the way she knew she liked it. Their fingertips brushed as she handed Harper the mug, and she maintained her grip on the cup for a moment, forcing Harper to meet her eye.

"You can relax, you know," Morgan murmured. "I'm not going to jump you in my office in broad daylight." She couldn't help but give her what she knew was an arrogant smile.

Fake it til' you make it, right?

Harper's fingers tensed on hers. Those intelligent hazel eyes gleamed. "Because you only do that at night, right?" She gave Morgan a small, innocent smile. "Maybe," she said quietly, "you should worry about yourself." Her thumb stroked against Morgan's, jolting her. "Why weren't you sitting at your desk when I got here?" She asked.

The tone in her voice told Morgan that she was fully aware of the answer to her question. The smirk fell from Morgan's face.

Fucking journalists.

"Sit down," she deadpanned.

Harper raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, ma'am," she said quietly, moving to her seat on the couch, her eyes never leaving Morgan.

And now Morgan had a choice to make.

Because her options were to either sit at the desk of betrayal, or sit closer to Harper.

Given that even just the ten-second interaction with the coffee mug had been enough to get her a little bit drunk off the scent of Harper's perfume, she went with the desk.

Morgan sat down slowly, pointedly not staring at the area of her desk that had had Harper's ass perched on it the night before.

She looked up to find Harper watching her, a mixture of amusement and concern etched across her features.

"Ready?" She asked.

***

"Are you free for dinner tonight?" Harper asked an hour later, after she had finished her very thorough interview with Morgan.

The pen Morgan was holding clattered to the desktop.

"You want to have dinner with me?" Morgan tripped over her words. She couldn't quite hide the disbelief in her tone. Was Harper asking her on a date?

Harper stood up, smoothing her hands down her thighs as she gave her a lopsided smile. "I do think that we need to talk, given recent developments. And we certainly can't do it here."

She was right. But Morgan asked anyway, standing to get ready to walk her out. "Why don't you just come over to my apartment where we can have a little more privacy?"

Harper froze, pausing as she packed up her bag. She gave Morgan an incredulous look and raised an eyebrow as she said, "The absolute last thing that the two of us need is privacy," she said, her voice so low Morgan almost didn't hear her.

She was sure that Harper hadn't meant for it to sound so suggestive, but that desire from the previous night came back full force, landing right between her legs.

Morgan couldn't help taking a step closer to her as she asked, "And why is that?" Harper took the smallest step backward, bumping into the couch. "You don't trust me?"

Harper reached a hand down to steady herself as she ran her eyes over Morgan's body and bit her bottom lip before she exhaled and said, "I don't trust myself." She sounded entirely serious, the teasing tone from earlier having left her voice.

And that just made Morgan throb harder.

They locked eyes and just stood there in silence for a few moments.

Finally, Harper cleared her throat and said, "I will text you later with the address of a restaurant. A very public restaurant." Her words sounded breathy as her eyes wandered again, and Morgan felt her gaze like an iron brand, lighting her up from the inside out. When she managed to tear her eyes away, she was blinking rapidly and shaking her head as if to clear it.

Morgan smiled and said, "I'm looking forward to it."

***

Morgan was overthinking again.

It wasn't a date. Obviously.

But that didn't mean that Morgan wasn't going to try her best to look good.

Harper had texted her earlier that afternoon with the name of a bar and grill asking to meet her at seven. She had even forwarded her the menu to make sure Morgan approved of the options, which had been entirely unnecessary and incredibly sweet. Morgan wasn't sure the knots currently tying up her stomach would allow for much eating anyway.

So, a casual restaurant that screamed anything but romance. She stared into her closet hopelessly, scowling at the hanging dresses that she knew would have Harper salivating over her but would be out of place at dinner.

It was also December, and the cold New York winter nights were unforgiving. Morgan frowned.

In the end, she opted for a long-sleeved, cream-colored sweater dress that hugged her snuggly, pairing it with knee-high leather boots.

She'd taken so long to decide on what to wear that she was almost late, walking up to the door of the restaurant exactly two minutes before seven.

Harper was already there waiting for her, and Morgan took her opportunity to admire her before she noticed her.

Harper was incapable of looking anything but perfectly put together and beautiful. Morgan steeled herself against the cold and the growing pit of unease that had begun to form in her stomach as she approached Harper.

She was wearing a pair of skintight light denim jeans that she'd paired tastefully with black combat boots. Her black bomber jacket was zipped up, but Morgan could make out the neckline of a band T-shirt beneath it. The outfit was so incredibly Harper. And, Jesus, those jeans should be illegal.

Morgan could admit that maybe she was biased, having learned what it felt like to hold that toned ass in her hands just the night before.

Determined to behave herself tonight, she reined in her dirty thoughts and greeted Harper with a warm smile. "Hi."

Harper returned her smile and took her in, her eyes running down her body quickly.

"How are you not freezing?" She asked.

"I run hot," she said.

Once they were seated and had ordered their food, the conversation fell into easy pleasantries, with Harper talking about some of the other stories she was working on while Morgan filled her in on some minor trial information.

It wasn't until their food was served to them that Morgan felt the vibe change, the atmosphere shifting around them.

Harper looked up at Morgan through her long eyelashes, the gold tones in her eyes taking center stage in the lighting of the restaurant.

"What happened between us," Harper said gently, "cannot happen again."

Morgan regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I know," she said simply. She wiped her clammy palms on her napkin. "And I want to apologize if my forwardness last night made you uncomfortable."

Hazel eyes searched hers before she said, "I wasn't uncomfortable."

Harper's hushed tone and the glint in her eyes made it nearly impossible for Morgan to keep her voice free from flirtation as she cleared her throat and gave her a gentle smile as she said, "I know. But I stand by the sentiment."

Harper nodded, twirling a fry in her ketchup before she said, "I also owe you an apology." Her nerves were clear in the way she fidgeted, the fingertips of her free hand tapping against her glass.

Morgan raised an eyebrow at her, not sure where she was going with this.

"Um," she said, haltingly. And then the words tumbled out of her in a rush. "Toward the end--last night--right before those people walked down the hallway. I just--I felt you hesitate briefly? And I just wanted to make sure that you--" She cut herself off, trying to collect herself. She exhaled, looking up to meet Morgan's gaze. "I'm sorry if you felt pressured to do anything you weren't ready to do." Harper was blushing harder than Morgan had ever seen.

Oh.

Of course, Morgan knew exactly the moment to which Harper was referring, mostly because she had thought about it so frequently throughout the past day that she was pretty sure the memory was burned into the backs of her eyelids.

In truth, Morgan had hesitated in the moment because she had been so overwhelmed by how unbelievably sexy it was, Harper being so turned on that she'd wanted--no needed--Morgan to touch her. She'd paused because she'd wanted to be absolutely sure that there was no possible way that she was misinterpreting Harper's actions.

But then Harper's hips had jumped forward and Morgan knew that she wanted her. And that she wasn't afraid to ask for it.

How could she possibly think that Morgan didn't want to touch her?

It had been one of the hottest things she'd ever experienced, but she couldn't exactly express that to Harper now, when they were trying to clear the air.

"I would hope," Morgan began, her goal being to put Harper's mind at ease, "that by now, you know me well enough to know that I never do anything I don't want to."

Harper searched her eyes intensely, exhaling heavily through her nose. She reached for her glass and took a substantial swallow of her beer. "Good," she said.

As was usually the case when it came to Harper, Morgan found that she simply couldn't help herself as she leaned forward and said, "For the record, I've been kicking myself in the ass for that hesitation for the past twenty-four hours."

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