Crossing Lines Chapter 81

**Aiden**

I’d never been the emotional type. Never been the man who sat around explaining himself or justifying choices. I didn’t like surprises, so I lived in a way that left no room for them—upfront, clear, controlled.

But with Noah… things weren’t simple anymore. He looked at me in ways no one ever had, pulling me into uncharted territory just as much as I was pulling him.

I knew we were complicating things, and I had no idea how the hell this had happened… My God, the second we took things out of the dungeon, I was no longer Mr. A training his submissive; I was a coach fucking his player, a teacher who should’ve molded his student and instead had turned him into my personal fucktoy. Quite a role model I was. Not only was it unethical, it was a direct violation of the contract I signed with the school. But here we were, still crossing every line.

That’s why after that ill-timed but incredible phone call—the Dominium opening its doors to us—I knew decisions had to be made. I saw a path ahead, a future in the club, a way to turn what I was into something professional, respected, sustainable. I knew what clubs like that paid for the right people to train, to perform, to lead.

But then I saw Noah’s face. And my heart ached.

“Come here, baby boy,” I said softly, patting my lap.

He hesitated, lower lip trembling just slightly, before crawling over and settling against me, warm and bare as always. His place. Where he belonged.

“Why that pouty face, ah?” I kissed his lips, slow and steady, then trailed down to his jaw, his neck. He melted a little, but his voice still cracked.

“Sir… why the club? Can’t we just… be like always and stay?”

I kissed his ear, then lower, down the strong line of his collarbone. “Oh, you just want me all to yourself, hm? Greedy sub?”

“Yes, Sir…” he moaned, his body shivering under my mouth.

I licked down, teeth grazing the ring in his nipple, tugging lightly until his breath hitched. “And you will have all of me, Noah. All of me. But that doesn’t mean it can only exist in this house. You are my submissive, and I am your Master everywhere.”

He tilted his head back, chest rising, but the words came quiet. “But can’t we just be you and me? At least this weekend?”

I cupped his chin, lifting it so he couldn’t look away. “Listen to me, Noah. On the field, as your coach, I give you everything. I push you, train you because I know how to make you shine. I don’t ask your permission every time I run you into the ground, because it’s my job to see further than you can. I know what will make you into the man the NFL will one day fight over.”

His throat bobbed, lips parting, but I went on.

“And as your Master… it’s the same. I teach you what works. I shape you with my expertise, my experience. I don’t owe you explanations for every choice I make. But this—" I brushed my thumb over his cheekbone, the vulnerable flicker in his eyes tearing into me. “This is different. Because on days like today, when you look at me like something else, like more than just your coach or your Dom… I feel I owe you more honesty than I ever thought I could give.”

His hand gripped my shirt, clutching like he might fall without it. “Then tell me,” he whispered. “Please. Just this once. Make a time-out. Talk to me, Sir.”

I exhaled, my chest heavy. “Just as you have a bright future in football, mine is already behind me. My career is over. My days of playing are done. Coaching fills part of that hole, yes. It lets me lift you, push you, see you rise where I fell. But it doesn’t give me everything. Because Aiden, the player, doesn’t exist anymore. And Aiden, the coach, is temporary. You’ll rise. You’ll move on. And when you’re gone, when you’re living the dream I want you to live, I’ll be left with nothing.”

“No…” he whispered, shaking his head.

I kissed his temple. “That’s the truth, baby boy. The only thing that carried me through my accident, through losing the game, through everything—wasn’t coaching. It was being Mr. A. The Master. That is where I shine. That is where I’m whole.”

He looked up at me, hurt flashing across his face. “I get it, Sir. I do. But… am I not enough? Training me, having me… isn’t that enough?”

My chest constricted. I slid my hand into his curls, pulling him close until our foreheads touched. “Oh, baby boy. You are more than enough. More than I ever imagined. But you will not be with me forever. One day you’ll be the greatest player I’ve ever trained. You’ll step onto the NFL field, and the world will claim you. You’ll travel, live the dream I couldn’t. And I’ll be so damn proud… but what then? What do I do when you don’t need me anymore?”

Tears welled in his eyes. “But that’s not now. And if I were to get there… you’ll come with me. You’ll be with me, always.”

“As what, Noah? Your cheerleader? Your coach? Your ex-coach and secret gay lover? How would that help your career?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the words died. He knew. He knew how fragile it all was.

“As my private coach,” he tried, hope breaking through.

I smiled, bitter but soft. “And see you succeed where I didn’t, chased by women and men alike, while I stay hidden in the shadows as your secret? Is that what you want?”

He lowered his head, defeated. “This is ridiculous. I’m a nobody. I might never be anyone.”

I cupped his face, firm but tender. “Oh, baby—you *will*. I’ll make sure of it. But in the meantime, I need to be who I am as well. I am your coach, yes. But I am also Mr. A. And the Dominium offers me a future. A chance to stand in my own right again. Not just because of you. Not just for you. But for me.”

His eyes glistened, voice catching. “As a Dom… for others?”

“As a professional Master, Noah. Someone who can train, teach, perform. Someone respected. Someone whole. And don’t forget… this is how we met. As Mr. A. It is who I am.”

I pressed my forehead against his again, whispering. “So now, I’ll ask *you*… am *I* not enough?”

His lips trembled, his answer caught somewhere between desperation and surrender. And I kissed him—deep, slow, full of everything I couldn’t say.

When we finally broke apart, his voice came rough but steady. “You are, Sir. I met you as my coach and as Mr. A, and you will always be enough. Enough as my coach, enough as my Master…” His hand pressed against my chest, right over my heart. “But you’re enough as just you. And I know you think I’ll leave if I ever make it big, but I’ll prove you wrong. I’m gonna be the best damn player in the NFL… and the best fucking sub in that club.”

Then he was the one kissing me, hard, hungry, passionate. When he pulled back, breathless, he whispered, “And one day, I’m gonna be everything else, too.”

My hand slid up to the back of his neck, gripping tight, pulling him back into me. I crushed our mouths together, heat flooding my chest. “You are already everything else, little brat.”

We stayed there a moment, breathing each other in, the tension finally breaking into something softer.

I kissed his temple one last time and murmured against his skin, “Now… how about some dinner?”