Chapter 14
Aiden
I didn’t confirm it. Didn’t deny it. Just stared at him in that hallway with a silence so thick it shut him up better than any words could ve
He’d pushed me. Backed me into a corner he didn’t fully understand and if he was looking for Mr. A? I was going to make damn sure he and him. The
proper way.
The rest of the day was a slow, simmering burn, Noah didn’t let it go. Not for a second. Every glance he shot my way was a challenge. Every mine was orky.
Calculated. Bratty. Like he was saying, I know who you are. What are you gonna do about it?
He wanted confirmation. But more than that–he wanted to be put in his place.
And I could’ve. Right there in the gym. In the locker room. On the field with the Swiss team we were visiting. But that wasn’t who I was.
Mr. A didn’t play games. He didn’t get flustered by teasing or tantrums. He didn’t chase or beg. He commanded.
Noah had no idea what he was asking for.
As a coach, I was disciplined. Focused. No distractions, no detours.
But as a Dominant? I was something else entirely. Behind closed doors, I was the kind of man who could silence a room with a look. Trained. Experienced.
Not in fantasy. In practice.
And if Noah wanted that part of me? If he wanted Mr. A? He needed to understand what it meant.
There were two worlds I could offer him. On the field–he’d be mine as a quarterback. I’d push him to be the best, hold him to every standard, and turn him into the player he was born to be.
Off the field? Under my roof? He’d follow my rules. My structure. My discipline.
It would be all or nothing. Because I don’t give halfway. And I sure as hell don’t let anyone in who isn’t ready to submit fully.
I watched him all day. Let him push. Let him perform. Let him smirk and burn under my gaze.
He was good. So fucking good it was infuriating. But he still needed structure. Still needed guidance. And deep down? He knew it. He wanted to be told. Wanted to be dominated. Corrected. Owned.
So just after dinner, I gave him a choice. I leaned in close when no one was looking. Just a few quiet words, low and rough.
“I know what you’re doing. Do you?”
I watched his breath hitch.
“If you’re done playing brat…” A pause. “…meet me in my room at ten.”
Then I walked away.
If he showed up at my door? I’d give him the choice. Two worlds. One truth.
1/4
4:24 pm P PPM.
Chapter 14
But if he walked in? He wasn’t walking out the same. If he didn’t… then he wasn’t ready.
Either way… the game was about to end. And the real lesson was about to begin.
I went up early. Took a shower, cooled off–as much as I could. Then I opened my suitcase and pulled out the clothes I hadn’t worn in a long time. A wift black button–down, pressed to perfection. Tailored slacks. Leather watch. Polished shoes.
I hadn’t exactly packed a suit for seduction–but for the formal council meeting scheduled later this week. Still, it’d do the job tonight,
I looked the part. Not Coach. Not Mr. Mercer, Mr. A.
Then I went to my laptop and pulled up a file I hadn’t touched in months. A contract. One I’d written years ago. Adapted over time. Clear Comprehensive. It outlined the rules, the limits, the expectations. Full disclosure. Total consent. Signatures on every page. I printed two copies at the hotel reception, thanked the clerk, and returned upstairs.
One copy went into the drawer. One stayed on the desk, in plain sight.
If he walked in, I wouldn’t touch him. Not until he read every line. Not until he chose.
Because this wasn’t just a game. Not to me. And if he wanted my world… he had to step into it fully. Eyes open. Knees down. No turning back.
I checked the clock. 9:58.
And I waited.
10:00 p.m. sharp.
A timid knock on the door. This was a good start.
I didn’t move right away. Just let the sound hang in the air for a second. Let him wait. Then I stood, adjusted my cufflinks, and walked to the door with deliberate calm. I opened it slowly–and couldn’t help the smirk that curved my lips.
There he was.
My rebellious Noah Blake. On time. Freshly showered, looking sharp in a fitted black polo that hugged his chest and showed off those arms he worked so damn hard on. Jeans. Clean sneakers. Hair damp and tousled just enough to make him look like he hadn’t tried at all–which meant he’d definitely tried.
But what got me wasn’t what he wore. It was the way his eyes widened the moment he saw me.
For someone who didn’t “like men,” he looked like he could’ve devoured me whole. His gaze dragged over the open collar of my crisp shirt, down the tailored line of my vest and slacks, and back up to meet my eyes.
That mouth dropped open just a little.
The way I stood–the way the shirt framed my chest and shoulders, the calm in my eyes, the way I filled the doorway without apology–it did what it always did…. Intimidated. Commanded.
Turned him on.
“Good evening, Blake,” I said smoothly.
2/4
1:24 pm P P P м
Chapter 14
He blinked and cleared his throat. “Good evening… Sir.”
Ah. There it was. Worked every time.
“Come in.”
He stepped inside slowly, eyes scanning the room. I’d kept it simple–clean lines, dim lighting, and a chair placed dead center across from the one I planned
to sit in.
“Sit.”
He obeyed.
I watched him settle in, tense but trying to look relaxed. Trying to look unaffected.
I stayed standing, taking my time as I poured a glass of water and set it down near him before finally lowering myself into the chair opposite his.
“You wanted to meet Mr. A.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Well. Here I am.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “So why didn’t you tell me it was you?” he asked, voice quieter than usual.
I let the question sit there for a beat. “You weren’t ready.”
He scoffed. “You still think I’m not?”
“I know you’re not.”
“Then why tell me now?”
“Because,” I said, leaning forward, “your desire to explore this new part of yourself runs too deep to be ignored. It’s affecting you. It’s affecting your focus as a player–and it’s affecting me as your coach.”
Noah’s jaw tightened.
“This can’t continue the way it has,” I went on. “Not with shadows and glances and half–truths. So I’m giving you a choice.”
His eyes flicked up again. Cautious. Curious. Wanting.
“To continue this,” I said slowly, “you’ll have to keep both worlds separate. On the field, you’ll be mine as a quarterback. My student. My player. You’ll give me everything. Off the field… behind closed doors… you’ll give me everything else.”
I let the words sink in.
“You’re either all in or all out, Noah.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
