Page 35 of The Secret Play

Casey cupped my pussy as he pounded me harder and harder, toying with me there while I took it all. The build-up was almost as good as the orgasm, and I cried out so loudly I worried I’d hurt his ears. But I had a feeling he’d happily live with that.

He came, gasping and almost laughing. “Damn, woman. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“I sure hope not.”

After we cleaned up, we lay tangled together in the quiet glow of the living room, and I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. I knew I couldn’t keep the truth from him forever.

But for now, in this moment, I let myself believe that everything would work out. For me. For Winnie. And maybe, just maybe, for Casey too.

I just had to figure out how.

Chapter 13

Casey

Love had always seemed like a far-off concept to me, something that other people talked about, something you saw in movies. If I was entirely honest about it, I wasn’t sure I believed in it at all.

I’d loved women in my past, or I thought I had. But what I felt for Gemma dwarfed all of that.

I wanted to know everything about her. I wanted to see her at her worst, to be there to comfort her through things, to help her laugh again. I wanted to see her at her best and help her reach new heights. More than any of that, I wanted her.

Every day. All the time.

She had single-handedly ruined everything I thought I knew about love, and I was grateful. At first, it was her smile, the way it lit up her face and made me feel like the only person in the room. Then it was her laugh—genuine, unpolished, the kind that tugged a grin out of me no matter how bad my day had been.

But after meeting Winnie, the feeling deepened into something that scared the hell out of me in the best way. It wasn’t just about Gemma anymore. It was the two of them—this incredible woman and her equally incredible daughter. And somehow, I’d stumbled into their lives, feeling completely unworthy of the space I was starting to occupy.

How could I be? I was ancient in comparison to Gemma. I tried to brush that aside, but it was hard. Lying next to her in the morning, seeing her firm body, something like guilt hit me. My hand rested on her bare hip, and the contrast was stark. My skin was not unlined like hers, not smooth and unblemished. I wasn’t quite old enough to have age spots, but they’d hit me a lot faster than her.

How could I let her waste her youth on my old ass?

The morning sunlight spilled into the kitchen, casting a pale yellow glow over the small space. Gemma was curled up in one of the chairs at the table, her oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder as she cradled a steaming mug of coffee. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her bare feet were tucked under her, the picture of effortless beauty.

I leaned against the counter, watching her for a moment before I spoke. There was no sense in workshopping this. I had to know. “I’ve been thinking about dyeing my hair.”

She looked up, her eyebrows raised in surprise. “Why?”

I shrugged, running a hand through the silver strands that dominated my head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s the age thing. The difference between us, I mean. The gray makes it obvious.”

“Obvious that you’re a grown man who has his life together?”

“Obvious that I’m older than you,” I said, my tone softer.

Gemma set her mug down, tilting her head as she studied me, her pretty eyes settling on my head. “Casey, it’s your hair. If you want to dye it, go ahead. But if you want my opinion, I think the silvery look is incredibly sexy.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No,” she said, her smirk widening. “You’re a silver fox. Distinguished. Rugged. Very hot.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Distinguished, huh?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

I took a sip of my coffee, letting her words clink around the old brain pan. I wasn’t sure I believed her—I’d been self-conscious about the age gap between us since the start of things—but hearing her say it made me feel lighter, like maybe it didn’t matter as much as I thought it did.

I might actually believe that one day.

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the sounds of the morning filling the air around us. She had put on some music, but it was soothing lo-fi, nothing too heavy. Kind of perfect, actually.

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