Chapter 30
Noah
…
Despite my commitment–my promise to follow this through, to explore how deep the rabbit hole went for him–my body hadn’t gotten
the damn memo.
The second he said it-“Undress for me“-some internal alarm flared bright red like a freaking firetruck.
What?
Just that. One word, shrill and panicked, flashing behind my eyes like a glitch in the matrix.
He repeated it, calmly. Deadly calm.
“Take your clothes off. Everything. Slowly. I want to have a taste of you.”
And wouldn’t you know it–there came my pride, barging in like an idiot with a chip on its shoulder.
“I’m not some piece of meat… Sir.”
He didn’t blink.
“You are, if that’s what I need you to be.” His voice was steel wrapped in silk. “But this isn’t about tasting your body, Noah–it’s about tasting your obedience. From now on, you will do as I say to the best of your ability. Take it or leave it. There’s no in between. Do you
need to rethink your previous choice?”
I didn’t.
I’d already made it.
When I signed that contract.
When I walked through that hotel door.
When I followed him here instead of running the other way.
I was nervous as hell–but I still lifted the hem of my shirt. Clumsy. Hesitant. Like my hands didn’t quite belong to me, but I didn’t stop.
The music helped. Slow jazz, easy rhythm, like it was guiding me–giving me something to anchor to while my world tilted sideways.
Ok, here we go.
I reached down to unlace my sneakers and–fuck.
Why the hell hadn’t I worn loafers?
Bending down in some kind of graceful motion was apparently harder than it looked. I tried to stay smooth, swaying slightly to the
rhythm of the music, but the second I went for my laces, my balance went on strike. I had to grab the dresser to keep from tipping over
like a drunk flamingo.
Nice. So sexy…
I peeked up–Aiden’s expression hadn’t changed. He was just watching. Not judging. Not helping. Just waiting.
Testing.
Alright then.
I kicked one shoe off a little more deliberately this time, trying to turn it into a move–like maybe it had been part of the show all along.
(It had not.)
The second shoe was easier. I managed not to trip over it, which felt like a win.
I peeled off my clothes one piece at a time. My shirt. Then socks. Then jeans. My fingers snagged on the zipper. My knee knocked the side table. Real smooth, but I kept going, because what was the point of all this–of the contract, the rules, the punishment, the ache–if I was
gonna half–ass it? If I was gonna play it safe?
Coach didn’t believe in safe.
He believed in all or nothing.
And for reasons I didn’t fully understand yet, I wanted it all.
I was stripped to my boxers now. The part where everything felt more than just exposed–it felt vulnerable. Raw. The kind of vulnerable that made my spine twitch and my chest tighten, but not because I wanted to stop.
Because I wanted to belong. I wanted him to look at me and see more than a brat who pushed back…. I wanted him to see that I could obey, even if I had to drag myself through every damn discomfort zone to get there.
Like I was doing right now.
I stood there in my boxers, heart pounding like I’d just run drills in the Texas heat. My skin burned, not from embarrassment–okay, maybe a little–but mostly from the weight of his eyes on me.
He was still seated, legs spread, one arm draped over the recliner’s armrest like a king watching some gladiator audition for his life.
…
I swallowed hard. I guess this was the part where I made it sexy.
Cool. Sure. Easy.
I let my fingers run slowly up my thighs–more for effect than any actual seduction skill–and hooked them around the waistband of my
boxers…. This was it. One deep breath.
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.
