Owned on the Ice M/M Romance

“We’ll start with physicals. Jessica, please show them to the office,” Belmont announced, his voice cool and unyielding.Noah blinked, still riding the strange rush of adrenaline that came from being under that man’s gaze. It was like surfacing from deep water, lungs tight, mind spinning. Around him, players began to stir, collecting their bags and following Jessica’s instructions. Noah moved with them, trying to shake off the lingering burn of being watched.Jessica led them into the locker room and motioned to a row of open cubbies.“This one’s yours,” she said, patting the nameplate that read RIVERS. “Hooks up top. Gear below. Jerseys in your size should be folded here, we can swap if the fit’s off."Noah dropped his duffel, the weight slipping off his shoulder with a soft thud. He crouched down to inspect the gear. Clean. New. The orange-and-silver colors of the Crestwick Stormriders gleamed under the fluorescent lights, the tornado logo stitched sharply on the chest of each jerse

Dinner was loud, casual, and sprawling.They’d taken over three tables at a high-end steakhouse not far from the rink. The smell of charred meat and bourbon clung to the air as plates and bottles kept coming, all paid for, of course, by the infamous Sterling Belmont.Noah found himself wedged between Ash and Lukas, with Mac across the table and Jessica somewhere to his left. He kept pace with the jokes, the rounds, and the steady flow of food, slowly relaxing as the night wore on.He learned Lukas had two sisters and a vintage truck he refused to part with. Mac played poker like his rent depended on it. Ash had a dry sense of humor and a low tolerance for whiskey, apparently, judging by the flush creeping up his neck.And through it all, from the far end of the room, Sterling Belmont watched.The owner sat with quiet elegance, dark suit still immaculate despite the relaxed setting. The kind of sharp confidence acquired through years of hard work but not a gray hair in sight. A glass o