Page 67 of The Secret Play

But then the door swung open, and there he was. He looked tired, the adrenaline of the game fading, but his blue eyes still held that sharp intensity I’d seen on the ice.

“Gemma,” he said, his surprise obvious.

“Hi,” I said softly, my hands twisting together.

He stepped aside, motioning for me to come in, and I slipped past him into the warmth of his home.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, closing the door behind me.

“I know,” I said, turning to face him. “I just…I wanted to see you. To talk.”

“Talk about what?”

But before I could answer, his hands were on my waist, pulling me closer until he kissed me. He knew I wasn’t here to talk. And even if I were, I would have shoved it aside for this. All the emotions I’d been holding back—the pride, the longing, the frustration, the love—spilled out as I kissed him, my fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled me flush against him. He gripped my ass, picking me up just a little, just enough to put me on edge.

We didn’t make it far before clothes started coming off, leaving a trail from the living room to the bedroom. Our kisses weren’t slow or gentle—they were heated, desperate, like we were both trying to erase the pain of the last few days with sheer physical intensity.

And for a little while, it worked.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered between kisses.

Those words. Those damn words. They threatened to slice right through me. “No talking.” I groped him over his boxers.

He grunted and nodded once, before he pushed me backward onto the bed. I hadn’t kept up with how naked I wasn’t, until he ripped my underwear apart before diving between my legs for a snack. That man’s tongue was a gift. My heels dug into his shoulders when I crested, and I gripped his hair to keep him on target. Not that he needed the help. Maybe I just needed something of his to hold onto when he made me come on the tip of his tongue.

When I finished, he flipped me over onto my stomach and split my legs apart right before penetrating me. The weight of him on me pinned me to the spot, and I craved the feel of him like that. Solid. Grounding.

But then he pulled me onto my knees with my head still down on the pillows, and he fucked me hard that way. Our bodies smacked together, harder and faster with every thrust. I pushed back to meet him, taking as much as he could give. Only then did he find my clit with his free hand—the other hooked around the opposite hip. When he touched me there, I rocketed into the next orgasm, too tight with tension to breathe through it. A scream pealed out of me as I came, that delicious tremor riding me like a wave.

He turned me over yet again, his wet hand hooking under my jaw as he slid back into me. Not a choking hold, but a claiming one. His wordless way of telling me that I was his.

Maybe not forever. But for now, at least.

His body went stiff, and his cock swelled inside of me. It almost triggered another one for me, and just as he gasped from his own, that look on his face tipped me into it. As primal as this had been, his face was nothing but loving as he came inside of me. It shattered me, and I came so hard I thought I might pass out.

I may have.

The next thing I knew, he was spooning me. We lay snuggled in the sheets, the room quiet except for the sound of our rapid breathing. My head rested on his arm as my mind raced.

“Why did you come here, Gemma?”

I hesitated, turning around to look at him. His expression was calm, but there was something in his eyes—something guarded, almost wary—that made my chest tighten. The guilt I’d carried promised to suffocate me. But he deserved answers. “I wanted to talk. But we…skipped to the part we’re good at.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, we’re good at that.” He sighed. “If you wanted to talk, you could have said no to this.”

In theory, sure. But how do you say no to this kind of sex? The kind that tears you apart and puts you back together, the kind people go to war for. This connection was too important. It overrode my good sense.

Eventually, I said, “I know I could. Probably. One day, when I have some self-restraint around you. But I didn’t want to say no to this.”

He silently nodded.

I sat up, pulling the sheet around me as I searched for the right words. “I came here because I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you. Of what you’ve done with the team, what you’ve done for them. It’s amazing, Casey. They’re that good because of you.”

He sat up too, leaning back against the headboard with a weighty sigh. “Thanks.”

“But that’s not all.”

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. “What else, Gemma? What is there to say?”

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