A/N: Sorry for the delay but on the bright side, this is kind of a long chapter. Thanks as always for the reviews! Hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it :D

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the words written on this page.


While drifting in and out of consciousness, Megan heard the faint sound of her phone ringing and vibrating on the nightstand. She stirred, groaning and mumbling incoherently, and pulled the comforter over her head. I should have set it on "Silent Mode", she thought. But after a few more seconds, the phone finally went still. Megan sighed contently, nestled into the pillow and drifted off to sleep again. Two minutes later it went off again. Damn it! With great effort, she rolled to her side and stretched her arm out from under the covers, blindly reaching for the source of the infernal sound that was disturbing her deep slumber.

No luck.

She stretched further, locating every item on the nightstand except the one damned thing she needed. Growing frustrated, Megan moaned as she propped herself up on one elbow. Through blinding sunlight, messy red tresses, and blurry vision—she wasn't wearing contacts and her glasses weren't within reach—she reached for her phone and looked at the screen. Her eyes widened.

"Shit!" She had already missed a few messages and three calls—all from Lacey. Megan immediately answered. "Morning, Lace... Yeah, yeah, I'm home. Why wouldn't I be? I - I was just asleep and didn't hear it ringing... Yeah, it was kind of a late night... No, I do not have a hangover. Not much of one, anyway. Didn't even drink that much... Okay, great. And don't forget to thank her parents for letting you spend the night... I know, Lace, but it's common courtesy. Doesn't hurt to say it... Alright. I'll see you in a bit then. Bye."

Once she returned the phone to its place, Megan dropped back on the soft down pillow, yawned loudly and closed her eyes. "So tired..." she murmured against the fabric. Though usually an early riser, on Saturday mornings Megan allowed herself an extra hour or two of sleep. And after spending a better part of the night tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, clear her head, she need it more than ever.

The cause of her restlessness had not been her breakup with Aiden, though it was partly to blame. She felt a twinge of guilt for abruptly ending her relationship with one of the kindest, most patient guys she had ever met and dated. The man was every woman's dream. He put up with her hectic schedule, accepted her flaws, embraced her stubborn personality, and just wanted to be with her. But his lack of communication during his absence had completely disillusioned Megan. She needed a person whom she could rely on both emotionally, and when the time came, intimately, physically; someone who wasn't afraid of challenging—or sharing—her views, her intellect.

Someone like Kate.

Opening her eyes, Megan lifted her head off the pillow, reached for her phone, and started reading through her texts from the night before. There had been numerous and she chuckled at the randomness of their content. Some were perfectly chaste—the ones revolving around their evening and how much they'd enjoyed themselves—but others were more flirtatious.

At one point when they got around to talking about the kiss, Megan complimented Kate on the fullness of her lips, their taste. Kate didn't reply immediately, prompting the redhead to think she'd gone too far too soon. But after a few minutes, she returned the compliment, adding suggestively that the rest of her body was just as smooth; that she was welcome to find out for herself if she was skeptical. Kate's playful response—the first of many, many to follow—made it clear to Megan that she had veered their texting conversation in another, more enjoyable direction. Consequently, she ended up feeling just as aroused as she had after their kiss, making it nearly impossible to get to sleep.

"Ah, Kate," she whispered, smiling. Megan sat up, yawning again, louder and longer as she stretched and pulled herself out of bed. Lacey would be arriving soon.


After spending forty-five blissful minutes indulging in an early morning, lavender infused bath, Kate stepped out of the tub, toweled off, and, forgoing a robe, sauntered out of the bathroom completely naked. Luckily, she always kept the room warm. One of the advantages of living on her own, in a secure building, was possessing the freedom to do as she pleased, whenever she please and at any given time. Voyeurs lurking in the terrace were the least of her concerns but, as an added precaution, she had drawn the thick, burgundy shades of her bedroom windows prior to her bath. They granted Kate that extra bit of privacy she needed to continue her morning routine—which included applying lotion to every part of her body before getting dressed.

Kate's mind wandered, fantasized about Megan's touch as she spread the aromatic lotion on the sore arm she had massaged the night before. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, allowing her hand to travel lower, lower still, and letting the tip of her fingers brush the sensitive flesh of her already moistened center. She arched into them, threw her head back, shuddered, and closed her eyes. Kate could almost feel the redhead's other warm hand exploring and teasing, her lips and tongue tasting and biting. "If only you were here, Megan," she whispered huskily. Slowly opening her eyes and withdrawing her hand, Kate reluctantly eased out of her reverie. "Soon enough." She stood, practicing a series of breathing exercises and stretches before continuing to get ready.

Grabbing a brush, she ran it through her dampened hair and made her way into her walk-in closet. It was spacious—like the rest of the high-rise apartment. Shelves on two of its broad walls housed a countless number of shoes varying in styles, heights, and colors. It was quite a collection bordering on obsession, she often thought. Her dresses, skirts, trousers, blazers, blouses and other garments—all organized according to color—hung neatly on the multiple racks. Kate considered herself fortunate for being able to have what most women could only dream of.

"What to wear?" she mumbled. It was her day off, and with a number of errands to run—including a quick trip to the office to pick up some paperwork—she wanted to find something light and comfortable, casual yet stylish. "Ah, perfect." Out of a sea of designer labels, Kate pulled out a simple pair of dark denim skinny jeans, a sheer olive green tunic, and a cerulean blue cardigan. Black flats and an Hermes silk scarf completed the look. "Not bad," she said as she appraised her ensemble.

Kate had woken up feeling refreshed, well-rested, energized and the outfit succeeded at reflecting her mood. For the first time in over a week, she had finally gotten a decent night's sleep. Evidently, admitting her intense attraction to the redhead and kissing her passionately had put an end to the erotic dreams altogether. Though initially unpleasant—perhaps because she was in a deep state of denial—Kate had grown accustomed to them. They were definitely going to be missed. But as she had discovered last night, the real thing offered more pleasure than a mere fantasy. Thinking about it, even in passing, made her want it more.

And soon.

As Kate stepped out of her bedroom and into the living room to look for her car keys—she was notorious for misplacing them—she grabbed her phone and started typing.

Lunch?


Her phone vibrated in her purse. Without taking her eyes off the road, Megan reached inside and handed it to Lacey. She was sitting in the passenger seat, busy with her own phone.

"It's a text from... Kate." She turned to her mother. "Want me to read it?" Megan nodded, relieved that she had erased most, if not all, of the risqué texts they had sent last night. It was the kind of juvenile behavior she frowned upon but, because it had been Kate who initiated the exchange, Megan made a huge exception. Hypocritical? Perhaps. Convenient? Absolutely. "Lunch?" Lacey read, lowering her voice an octave or two to sound like the blonde.

Megan pursed her lips and shook her head, amused at her daughter's failed but admirable attempt at imitating her boss. "Anything else?"

"Nope. That's all she wrote." She looked up. "Should I reply or do you want to do it yourself?"

"Uh, no that's fine, Lace. We're less than a mile away. I'll do it then."

Lacey offered a single nod and put the phone inside the purse, curiously studying her mother's enigmatic smile. She'd seen it before but never after her dates with Aiden, which had been few. Lacey looked out the window for a minute before turning her attention back to Megan. "What did you guys do last night?" she inquired, genuinely interested.

"Uh, we had drinks at a bar, went to a park, took a walk, and enjoyed ourselves. Nothing big. Why?"

"Just curious," she said shrugging. As an afterthought she then added, "But that kind of explains it, I guess."

Megan furrowed her brow and pondered the cryptic response as she brought the car to a stop at a red light. She loosened her grip on the steering wheel and turned to face Lacey. "'Explains' what exactly?"

The girl giggled at her mother's puzzled expression. "Your smile." Without saying another word, her eyes shifted down to look at her phone.

"What does that have to do with my going out with Kate?" Megan already knew the answer—had known for some time, just hadn't realized it sooner—but a part of her felt the need to hear it from her daughter's mouth. Her perspective was of great importance. Not so much for reassurance but for confirmation. "We've been out a couple of times."

"Well, she's your friend, isn't she?" Megan nodded slowly. "And that's what friends do: cheer each other up when one of them is bummed out—like you were, mom, over Aiden."

Megan scoffed and drove on as the light turned green. She steered the car around the corner and parked across the street from the stables where Lacey took her riding lessons. She could already see the other girls—friends of hers—crowding around the young instructor. As she shut the ignition off, Megan said, "I was not 'bummed' out." Then out of the corner of her eye she saw Lacey crossing her arms over her chest and raising her eyebrows, casting the same skeptical glance she employed herself. No doubt, the girl was her daughter and had taken after her in more ways than one. "Okay, so maybe I was... a little bit."

"Has he called or... anything?"

"He showed up last night," she reluctantly admitted. Megan paused and sighed ruefully. "It's... over between us."

"Oh. Are you okay with it?"

"Yes." Megan took a deep breath. "I'm not going to lie and pretend I'm not disappointed because I am. Aiden is a great guy, but from the beginning I knew this relationship wasn't going to work out so-"

"You decided to end it now before things got serious between you guys. You didn't want to hurt him later on."

Megan smiled at her wise-beyond-her-years daughter. "Yeah, exactly. It wouldn't be fair to him."

"You did the right thing, mom." Lacey reached for Megan's hand, smiling sympathetically. "I have to get going or I'll be late for my lesson." She grabbed her backpack from the back seat and opened the door. "Don't forget, Morgan and a bunch of us are going to the movies afterward and then to the mall." Lacey leaned forward and gave Megan a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be home by dinnertime."

"See you later, baby. And be careful. I can't stress that enough."

"Okay mom. Bye!" Lacey stepped out of the car and closed the door. Megan watched her until she made it safely across the street and into the tiny building located next to the stables.

She looked at the time.

"11:19 a.m."

Reaching into her purse, Megan pulled out her phone. She felt a sudden rush of nerves, a fluttering in her stomach and chest as she began typing.

Hey, lunch sounds great. Just tell me where to meet you and I'll be there shortly.

Kate's reply came quicker than she'd expected. My place around noon sound okay, Dr. Hunt?

Megan's lips quirked into a knowing smile.

Sounds perfect, Dr. Murphy. See you soon.


Faint knocking on the door echoed through her apartment. She looked up, glancing at her watch, and put the finishing touches on the meal she'd prepared. Taking a quick sip of wine, Kate walked into the living room to retrieve her shoes and in the foyer mirror gave her reflection one last check. Apron! She tried removing it but her sore arm prevented her from undoing the simple knot. To hell with it. She turned the doorknob and took a deep breath as she opened the door.

"Hey," Kate greeted, signaling for Megan to come inside. "Right on time."

"Aren't I always?" Megan said, winking as she brushed past the blonde.

Suppressing a laugh, Kate rolled her eyes and mumbled, "Not always." She closed the door and turned to find Megan standing next to the sofa in the living room, looking at the various frames hanging on the wall. The majority were treasured family photographs, many of which she had personally taken over the years. Kate came to stand beside the redhead and watched as her eyes landed on the smallest frame of the lot.

"How old were you in this one?" Megan asked gesturing.

"Eighteen," Kate replied. "My then-boyfriend snapped it while I was painting in my parents' backyard." She lowered her head, seemingly embarrassed, and laughed lightly. "I've got paint on my cheek, my tank top, my shorts. I look a mess, huh?"

Megan shook her head. "On the contrary, you look..." She turned back to the photograph, noting the subtle differences between the young lady sitting in the grass in the picture and the woman standing next to her. Kate's hair was definitely different; longer, a shade darker than she presently wore it, and she sported bangs that perfectly framed her stunning features, especially her eyes. Physically, though, she hadn't changed much. It was obvious, even then, that she had been blessed with an immaculate figure. "...gorgeous.

Kate sniffed a chuckled and found herself blushing. That's a first. "Thanks."

Megan turned back to face her and reached to gently squeeze her upper arm. "Still sore?"

"Less than yesterday, but I do need you to help me with this damn apron's knot. I don't know how—given my arm's limited mobility—but I must've tied it too tight. Since I can't reach far back enough to undo it, can you-" She tried turning around but Megan grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close. "What are you doing?"

"I'm helping you," Megan whispered seductively against her lips. "Any objections to my method?"

The blonde smiled, shook her head. "None whatsoever." While Megan worked to loosen the knot, Kate brought her hands up to the sides of her face and drew her in for a tender kiss.

"All done."

They pulled apart only slightly to allow Kate to remove the apron. She tossed it on the sofa and captured Megan's lips again, this time kissing her hungrily until they ran out of breath. "Lunch is... ready," she said panting. "Aren't you hungry?"

Megan let out a low, throaty laugh. "What are we having?"

"Waldorf salad, watermelon gazpacho..." Kate's breathing hitched as Megan nibbled on her lower lip. The playful action sent a shiver down her spine and fueled her mounting and unbearable desire. "...accompanied by white Zinfandel."

"Has any of it been served?"

"Not yet but-" Kate's words were swallowed by Megan's mouth closing over hers. They moaned, their tongues frantically reaching, exploring, indulging. Her fingers dove into Megan's silky red locks and tipped her head back, changing the angle of the kiss. Their moaning intensified, became louder; their breathing quickened, became shallow.

Without breaking contact, Kate pulled them toward her bedroom. The two bumped into the wall of the short hallway and nearly knocked down a number of expensive decorative pieces. Neither seemed to care. Megan pinned Kate back up against the closed bedroom door. Her impatient hands wandered down the blonde's voluptuous body, yanked the tunic over her head, and threw it aside. She licked her lips, salivating at the sight of the ample breasts. Megan unclasped the front of the bra, shoving the straps down her arms. Kate quickly shook herself out of it. She dipped her head and sought the redhead's sensitive earlobe, nipping at it then whispering, "Bed."

Megan laughed seductively against her neck and mumbled, "Lead the way." As Kate opened the door and walked them backward toward the bed, Megan's eager mouth devoured one of the erect rosy nipples—her free hand kneading the other between two fingers. With matching urgency, Kate eased Megan's dress off her creamy shoulders; disposed of it and her bra, then let them fall back in a tangle of limbs. The redhead propped herself up for a second, panting, and reached down to unzip Kate's jeans. She quickly slid them down her long legs—along with her panties—committing to memory every texture, every curb. The vibrations of a low, appreciative moan traveling down her abdomen and the sensation of warm lips skimming over every bit of newly exposed skin made Kate shudder uncontrollably.

Pressing her face to her hipbone, Megan ran her hands down Kate's inner thighs, parted her legs, and dragged a finger along her glistening sex. Kate inhaled sharply and began squirming. Megan grasped her hips, steadying her, and parted her folds. Her tongue darted out, flattened it over her swollen clit, and then slowly wrapped her lips around it, sucking hard.

Kate arched, gripped the sheets. "Ahhh... Megan..." The redhead latched on again, this time plunging a pair of digits into her hot wetness. It elicited another sharp gasp from the blonde. Megan lifted her head rising over Kate, darkened green eyes locking with darkened blues. She lowered herself, kissed the full, blistered lips, began thrusting. Kate's hips jerked forward, impaling herself further into the slender digits. Her hand grasped Megan's wrist, encouraging her to move faster, reach deeper. She complied. Megan curled her fingers deep within her and nearly sent her over the edge. Yet somehow it was enough. Kate wanted to be driven to the brink of madness and take Megan with her.

"Wait," she panted and pulled Megan's slender fingers out of her throbbing sex. Wrapping her legs around the redhead's thighs, Kate propped herself up and rolled her over, reversing their positions. She was now on top but quickly pulled Megan into a seated position and interlocked their limbs, bringing their dripping wet centers together. The two began thrusting, grinding, rhythmically; the slipping and sliding of their engorged clits created a delicious, overwhelming friction. It bordered on torture. The best and most enjoyable kind of torture.

"Fuck," Megan gasped.

Their movements intensified, became erratic. It wouldn't be much longer for either of them. Feeling herself nearing her climax, Kate cupped a hand behind Megan's neck and brought her impossibly close, savaging her mouth and swallowing her incoherent words as, with another powerful undulation, the two came undone. They collapsed on opposite sides of the bed, untangling their limbs, working to get their breathing under control. After a few minutes, Kate crawled to Megan and straddled her legs.

"That was a hell of a lunch, Dr. Hunt," she said, lowering herself to nuzzle her neck, her ear.

"You're welcome, Dr. Murphy," she responded, smoothing her golden tresses back. They shared a quiet laugh and a tender, languid kiss. Megan's hands roamed Kate's bare back and inhaled the intoxicating aroma of her skin. Lavender, she noted. "But let's just stay here a minute." Kate nodded and climbed off of her, pulling a sheet over their naked bodies. Megan repositioned herself on the bed, taking the gorgeous blonde in her arms. "And, yeah, you were right," she said.

"About what?"

"The rest of your body being just as smooth as you said."

Kate chuckled. "I know." She yawned and closed her eyes. Megan pecked her lips and drew her closer. The two soon drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms, worn out by the most intense sexual encounter either had experienced in a long time.

To Be Continued...


A/N: I was hoping to complete this story before the new season premiered here in the U.S. but alas, I wasn't able to. One more chapter to go. I think. No, not really. More Kegan to come.