Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 240

Saturday arrived with unsettling swiftness.

Over the past two days, I had sensed something off about Noah—an unease he desperately tried to conceal. There was nothing tangible to point to, no clear sign or proof. He had been punctual to every drill, courteous in every meeting, and completely focused when on the field. Yet, the spark within him had dimmed. The tightness in his shoulders, the way his eyes occasionally flicked past me instead of locking with mine—it all gnawed at my mind relentlessly.

I found myself checking my phone far more times than I cared to admit, silently hoping for a message or a call—anything that would bridge the growing chasm between us. But there was only silence.

And silence, more often than not, echoes like distance.

By six o’clock, I was pacing back and forth in my living room, trying to convince myself to focus on the task ahead. Micah would be here any minute now. I had a promise to honor, a role to fulfill.

The knock came sooner than I had anticipated.

When I opened the door, there stood Micah, his usual vibrant energy barely contained beneath a calm exterior. The nervous excitement shimmered just beneath the surface, betraying his composed expression. He’d taken my last instructions to heart—arriving early, prepared, and steady.

Without hesitation, he stepped inside the apartment, set his bag down, and began to undress with practiced ease.

What the hell…?

For a brief moment, I almost stopped him—the reflex of Aiden, the man I once was, the part of me that had forgotten what this world demanded, flared up. But then the other side of me took control.

This was what he had been instructed to do long ago. This was the arrangement I had agreed to continue.

He folded each garment meticulously, every motion deliberate and rehearsed. When he finally knelt, waiting for my next command, the sight of his blonde hair and those eager blue eyes caught in my throat.

For a fleeting second, it wasn’t Micah at all. It was a memory—a different night, a different body, a different kind of submission.

The same posture.

But a completely different soul.

I shoved the thought aside.

“Good job,” I murmured softly, resting my hand gently on his head, the gesture automatic. His hair gleamed almost golden in the soft lamplight, and the subtle wrongness of that small detail burned deep inside me.

“The Dominion, yes,” I confirmed. “I have business to discuss with Master Hale. You’re coming with me, and I expect your best behavior.”

Micah’s grin grew wider. “Always, Sir. But what kind of business? Are we talking good-boy best behavior or performer best behavior?”

“Both. But mostly the latter,” I replied. “After my meeting, we’ll be on stage. Hale’s been eager for another live demonstration since he witnessed one of our earlier performances. In fact, that’s why he reached out to me in the first place.”

Micah let out a low whistle. “So he’s finally getting proof that the legends are true.” He gave an exaggerated stretch, half teasing, half warming up. “What are we showing him this time?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” I said, suppressing a smile. “Now, go do as I asked.”

Micah followed every instruction flawlessly. Despite his boundless enthusiasm and unnerving sass, he was every Master’s dream—attentive, willing, obedient to a fault, a true submissive at heart.

One hour ago

That kind of abrupt pause makes you lose interest in the book, especially when it stops right at the most crucial part of the story.