Crossing lines (Noah and Aiden) novel Chapter 77

Chapter 77

Noah

Nothing had actually happened with Lexi. The truth was, if Aiden hadn’t sent me that message, nothing would have happened at all. Even though her kiss was tempting, I felt… absolutely nothing. Not even a flicker of emotion stirred within me.

That text arrived like a perfect lifeline, pulling me out of a situation that was quickly becoming more intense than I wanted it to be. I muttered some excuse about needing to “help a friend,” then slipped away before she could trap me again.

By the time I reached the basement door, I wasn’t even sure what I was doing anymore. The harsh red EXIT sign glowed overhead, casting a warning light that felt like it was bleeding, but I didn’t care. I had to see him. I needed to confront him. I had to have him.

But as always, the moment I stood in front of Aiden, all my resolve dissolved. Anger twisted with desire, need tangled with the fear of losing him, and every bottled-up feeling I’d been swallowing crashed into that first desperate kiss.

We moved fast—reckless, wild—until Aiden suddenly pulled away, breathless, his head turning toward the stairs. Footsteps. Someone was coming.

We scrambled—me yanking my briefs back on, him grabbing his clothes in a frantic heap before slipping into the shadows. “They can’t see me here,” he whispered sharply.

The door creaked open, revealing two figures—Keon, grinning like he owned the place, and a stranger I didn’t recognize.

The stranger’s gaze narrowed as he took in my half-naked, flushed state. “Noah Blake,” he said, his voice thick with recognition. “Coach’s new golden boy… for now, at least. Until he finds a shinier penny.”

Up close, Devon was all sharp angles—dark hair cropped close, a jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth, and eyes that didn’t just look at you but seemed to measure you, weighing how best to cut you down. His smirk held a cocky edge, the kind of look that said he was used to being the biggest deal in the room… until someone knocked him off his throne. I’d noticed him earlier, speaking to Aiden with the same hostile glare, their voices low and clipped. Whatever history they shared, it was clearly anything but friendly. And now, Devon was staring at me like I’d just walked straight into the middle of their tension.

Keon’s grin faded. “He’s my guest and a good friend. No issues here.”

Their eyes flicked over me again—still shirtless, still flushed. Devon lifted his drink with a smirk. “And what exactly are you doing down here, Blake?”

“Had some… company,” I replied casually, even though my heart was still pounding like a drum in my chest.

“Company?” Devon repeated, raising an eyebrow. “And who might that be?”

Before I could answer, Keon chuckled. “What, you the party police now?” He patted my shoulder as he began steering Devon toward the stairs. “Have fun with your lucky lady…”

I called after them with a lazy grin, “Were you here for beer?”

I tossed the key their way. Keon gave me a thumbs-up as he guided Devon out of the room. But Devon paused at the door, turning back to give me one last, cold, lingering look.

I stayed pressed against the door after they left, my heart still racing from the close call. Part of it was the scare—we would’ve been finished if anyone had caught us—but the rest was something else entirely. The burning curiosity about what had just happened between Aiden and Devon, and what Devon meant by “new shiny penny.” And then there was the thrill—the kind I hadn’t felt since my mom caught me making out with a girl in my bedroom back in high school—that made the heat between us burn even hotter. Forbidden, reckless, dangerously close to crossing the line… and I wanted more.

“Jealous, baby boy?” he murmured, his voice a low, lethal purr that slid right under my skin. “You want to be the only one?”

I leaned in until our lips were almost touching. “I better fucking be, or I’m out,” I hissed, my pulse pounding so hard I could feel it in my teeth.

His hand slid to my throat, holding me there, eyes wild and feral. “The only one I fuck? Is that what you want, Noah?”

My chest heaved, lips parting to answer, but he crushed his mouth to mine before I could speak, swallowing my words and breath, pinning me harder against the door as his hands roamed possessively, staking a claim no one would dare challenge.

His grip on my throat eased just enough for his other hand to reach his belt, the sound of the zipper loud in the tight, dark space. “On your knees,” he ordered, voice rough with want and authority.

Without hesitation, I dropped down, my hands sliding up his thighs as his pants and briefs hit the floor. God, he was already hard, flushed, heavy in my palm. Every single person out there tonight had wanted him—those girls leaning in too close, those golden-boy teammates slapping his back like he was some prize. Vultures, every last one of them.

But this—this was mine.

I wrapped my lips around him, the way I’d learned to do every time he let me, slow and steady at first, just to feel the shudder ripple through his body. To hear that sound he only ever made for me. My tongue traced along him, my hands holding him tight, claiming him in the most primal way I knew.

He wasn’t anyone’s trophy. He wasn’t anyone’s prize. He was mine to taste, mine to make lose control, mine to keep. And as his fingers tangled tightly in my hair, guiding me deeper, I knew every second of this was driving that truth home—to him and to me.