Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Without even realizing it, my hand drifted down to my cock. My body moved on its own accord, matching the rhythm I sensed in the air. My hips pushed forward against my palm, unsteady and desperate, craving release.

I was on the brink of coming. The sensation was building—tight, hot, and utterly unavoidable.

Then, a grunt broke through the silence. His face twisted with pleasure as his cock twitched, and thick spurts of cum splattered across the tile floor.

Fuck.

I clenched every muscle, halting myself just before the edge of climax. My entire body screamed in protest, aching with denial. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. I watched his cock swell again, twitch once more, a glistening drop forming at the tip as he ran his fingers down it one final time before turning the water back on.

I drew in a shaky breath, trying to steady my racing heart.

This was my moment. The only one I’d get.

Quietly, I began to back away toward the hallway, moving like a thief slipping away from a crime scene.

And then I heard it.

A low, muffled laugh.

I froze.

Every muscle tensed, like a child caught sneaking candy.

Slowly, I turned around—and there he was. Standing in the shower, water cascading down his powerful frame, smirking as if he’d known I was there the entire time.

Like he always did.

*****

I slammed the door behind me, the sound echoing through the room, and then collapsed onto the bed, my heart pounding wildly—as if I’d just run a marathon.

“Fuck,” I groaned, dragging a hand across my face, trying to wipe away the heat burning my cheeks.

What the hell had I just done?

I shouldn’t have watched him. I shouldn’t have touched myself. And I definitely shouldn’t have stood there, drooling in the shadows like some creepy voyeur while my coach—

“Fuck,” I muttered again, this time louder.

I stared up at the ceiling, willing the flush in my face to fade, but it stubbornly remained.

Every time I blinked, the image returned: him. His body. His hand.

His release.

And then that smirk. That smug, knowing look that told me he’d seen me the whole time. That maybe he hadn’t minded. Maybe he even wanted me to watch.

I groaned into my pillow and slammed my fist into it. “Stupid. Stupid. STUPID.”

I needed someone to talk to. But who could I tell? I couldn’t exactly call my teammates and say, “Hey, so I just watched our coach jerk off in the shower and might have done the same from the hallway. Wanna unpack that with me?”

No way.

There was only one person I could reach out to.

I opened ObeyNet and clicked on the familiar chat window.

ME:

I just did something really fucking stupid.

I don’t even know what came over me.

A few seconds passed.

Then the reply appeared.

Mr. A:

What did you do, baby boy?

His hands on you?

My heart slammed against my ribs.

ME:

Of course not!

I told you. He’s my coach. I’m not even—

Mr. A:

What if those were my hands instead? Would you want me to do that to you?

I sat up in bed, fully hard, eyes burning with heat.

ME:

Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t.

Or maybe I’d do it to you…

Guess you’ll never know.

You refused to meet me, remember?

I stared at the screen, pulse racing—smug, defensive, desperate all at once.

Then the reply came, and it made my entire body freeze.

Mr. A:

Be careful, baby boy.

I might take you up on that sooner than you think….