Page 40 of The Secret Play

“Yes,” I said, threading my fingers through his hair. “I’ve never been more sure.”

The next moments were a blur of heat and sensation. His hands were strong and steady, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched over my clothes. The cold, professional atmosphere of the office melted away, replaced by the heady intimacy of being with him.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself be completely vulnerable, completely open. And Casey met me there, his touch tender even as his kisses grew more desperate. Between those raw kisses, he locked the door, and when he came back, there was nothing to slow us down.

Except him.

He pressed his forehead to mine, and with excruciating slowness, he unbuttoned my shirt. I didn’t care about that part of things—this was an office quickie, or so I thought. But Casey made me wait for his touch, and that spurred me on. By the time his hands brushed over my nipples, I was dying. I had to be. No one had ever left me on edge this long, and my patience had worn away completely.

“Casey, why are you moving so slowly?”

His lips quirked to the side. “Because I like seeing you want something.”

“Someone.”

He smiled fully at that. “Is that what you want, Gemma? Just one person?”

“You. I want you.”

Without a word, he pulled me off the desk and stripped me in a rush of desire. He pulled a condom from his pocket, and his clothes melted away in a few moves. When it was in place, Casey picked me up, my legs around his waist, as he walked me back to the door. The cold wood drew a gasp from my throat as my spine hit the door. But he thrust home, and that was all I needed to warm up.

The door had less give than the tree we had fucked against in the park. Casey’s thrusts were rougher this time, almost as if he understood I could take it now. But he kissed me tenderly, touched my face reverently. The dichotomy was dizzying—fast and hard down below, sweet and gentle up top. He overwhelmed my senses, and before I knew it, I came in a holler.

After, I straddled him on his desk chair. He nipped at my throat, groaning all the while. I loved the sounds he made. He was always so proper until he was naked, and I loved that, too. But this time, I wanted him unleashed, feral. So I rode him harder, throwing all my weight behind it. I bit his neck as I took control. His groans became growls, and when he swelled inside of me, my orgasm took hold. We almost howled together.

When it was over, we lay tangled together on the small couch in the corner of the office, the faint hum of the building filling the quiet space. My head rested on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat fascinating me for some reason. It was music to my ears.

“I meant what I said,” I murmured, breaking the silence. “I like you, Casey. I don’t want anyone else.”

His arm tightened around me, his lips pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “I like you too, Gemma. More than I probably should.”

The vulnerability in his voice made my chest ache, and I tilted my head to look up at him. “Why does it feel like you’re holding something back?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before he met mine again. “Because I want this to work. And I’m terrified of screwing it up.”

“You won’t,” I said firmly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his face. “We won’t.”

But I might.

I put the thought out of my head as best I could. I knew I had to tell him the truth about Winnie, but not now. His smile was small, and at that moment, I understood what worried him. He was afraid of messing up, and so was I. There was something real here. Whatever it was—whatever it could become—it was worth fighting for.

Chapter 15

Casey

The hook-up with Gemma in my office had been, without question, one of the most exhilarating moments of my life. Not just because it was physically intense—though it absolutely was—but because of what it represented. Her choosing me, reassuring me with words and actions that I didn’t need to worry about the younger guys on the team. That connection felt real, solid, and I wanted to trust in it.

For a while, it worked. It silenced that part of me that doubted everything, that worried I wasn’t enough for her. The age difference didn’t feel so insurmountable when we were together. It wasn’t even noticeable when it was just us. The way she had looked at me after, her lips slightly swollen from our kiss, was like a balm for every insecurity I’d ever had.

But Winnie kept creeping into my thoughts.

That kid was something else. She was sharp, quick on her feet, and bursting with a kind of restless energy that reminded me of someone I knew all too well. Myself. It wasn’t just her personality that gnawed at the back of my mind. It was the birthmark. That oddly shaped café-au-lait spot on her shoulder had lodged itself into my thoughts like a splinter. It wasn’t identical to mine, but it was close enough to make me pause every time I thought about it.

And then there was her face.

Winnie didn’t look like me. She had Gemma’s warm brown eyes and her hair, but there was something familiar about her expressions, her mannerisms. Little things that caught me off guard—like the way she furrowed her brow when she was concentrating or the determined set of her jaw when she didn’t want to give up on something.

I knew that feeling too well. It was why her presence kept coming to mind.

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