Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 201

Chapter 201

Aiden

His voice struck me suddenly, like a ghost’s cold fingers tightening around my throat. I spun around instinctively.

There he was—Micah—standing just a few feet away. The club’s shifting lights washed over his skin, making it gleam like molten gold. His hair, still the color of sunlight, had grown a bit longer, but those eyes—ice-blue and piercingly honest—remained unchanged. For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

He was even more stunning than I had remembered, yet seeing him there felt like a blade twisting deep between my ribs. Because the last time I had looked into those eyes, I believed I loved him. I had mourned him for years, convinced that what we had shared was the pinnacle of love. It wasn’t until Noah entered my life that I truly grasped what love meant.

And now, here was Micah—real, alive, smiling at me as if he had been waiting for this moment all along.

“Micah?” My voice wavered, caught somewhere between disbelief and caution. “What the hell are you doing here in Houston—in this club?”

Before he could respond, Master Hale’s soft chuckle cut through the tension. Ever the gracious host, he said, “He reached out to me, and of course, his reputation—thanks in no small part to your performances together—preceded him. I invited him to join us.”

“I had no idea…” I stammered, barely able to form the words.

“I’ll give you two some time,” Master Hale said smoothly before slipping away into the crowd like smoke dissolving in the air.

The moment he disappeared, Micah dropped to his knees. The motion was so natural, so ingrained, it was as if muscle memory had taken over. His head bowed respectfully, hands resting palm-up on his thighs, every inch of him radiating submission. My heart skipped a beat.

“I moved back a couple of months ago, Sir,” he said quietly.

The word pierced me—old habits, old ghosts resurfacing. “I’m not your master anymore,” I replied softly.

He lifted his gaze, shy but steady, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I know. I just… can’t seem to forget who I was with you.”

I swallowed hard, the words scraping my throat. “You did hurt me,” I admitted. “And I’m not ready to be hurt again.”

He nodded, his eyes shining under the dim red light. “Then don’t let me get close enough to hurt you. Just let me serve. One night, one scene. Let me make things right. I heard you might be… looking for a submissive.”

I thought bitterly, I’m not looking for a sub. I’m looking for Noah.

But saying that aloud would have shattered me.

Instead, I looked at Micah—his devotion still sharp and clear as the first time he knelt before me—and something inside me shifted. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was need. Or maybe it was the raw, exhausting ache of missing someone who wasn’t coming back.

I reached out, my fingers brushing gently along Micah’s jaw. He closed his eyes, as if my touch was a kind of salvation.

“I don’t need a sub,” I said, my voice rough and low. “I need… a distraction.”