All Chapters of Owned on the Ice M/M Romance: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Milo packed fast.The second the door shut behind Ethan, he’d moved with shaky hands, stuffing his clothes and gear back into his bag while the shower ran in the bathroom. His heart hadn’t quite calmed, not after that night. Not after watching Ethan pad across the room, half-hard and unapologetic, muscles flexing with every step.He tried not to look at the bathroom door.Tried.But when it opened, steam billowed out first, then Ethan followed, a towel slung low around his hips. Hair wet and mussed, drops of water sliding down his chest, across his abs, down the sharp V-cut Milo couldn’t stop staring at.He swallowed hard and yanked his gaze to his duffel.Ethan crossed to the bed with lazy ease and flicked on the TV, sprawling back against the headboard like he owned the place. “You Vultures should all be out of here in thirty, right?”“Yeah. Definitely.” Milo’s voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat and hurried into the bathroom.His toiletries were scattered across the count

It had been a week.A week since Milo had stood frozen in that hallway and overheard the conversation that had made his stomach drop through the floor.A waiver.Not a maybe. Not a warning. A decision.And every hour since, he’d had to carry on, pretending nothing had changed. Pretending he didn’t know that his time with the team was already counting down.He still showed up. Still laced his skates. Still played. Still took the hits, the slashes, the cross-checks. Still scored, though the fire behind it felt more desperate now, like if he played hard enough maybe someone, anyone, would still want him.But every game felt heavier.The team hadn’t softened. If anything, Logan’s jabs had gotten more pointed. “Hope you’re packing your bags, Golden Boy.” “Maybe the minors will toughen you up.”Even Branick had gone silent. No more subtle blocks on the ice. No more shoulder checks on Milo’s behalf.He was alone again.And through it all, he couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan.It was stupid.

The bus ride to the arena was quieter than Milo expected.Not from the team. The usual voices were loud enough. Logan ribbing a rookie, a few guys chirping about the last road game but inside Milo’s head, the noise was deafening.Sterling Belmont’s words echoed in every turn of the wheels."Don’t push yourself at the game tonight. No reason to risk your team’s... jealousy again."He gripped the strap of his gear bag tighter. He hadn’t told anyone, not that he could. Not that he dared. But that card burned in his pocket, a sharp reminder that there might still be a way out of this mess.If he didn’t screw it up.And that was the real risk. One goal too many. One slick play too bold. One wrong look in front of the media. That was all it would take to turn Logan’s smirks back into fists.Sterling was right. Tonight, he needed to survive. Not shine.He would keep his head down. Keep his profile low. If Crestwick wanted to steal a win from him, fine. He wasn’t going to fight it.Not tonigh

He hadn’t meant to keep checking.After that night, after leaving Milo tangled in lies and softness he hadn’t expected, he’d told himself it was done. One night. A favor, at best.But something hadn’t let go.And fuck if the memories didn’t help. Or the fact that they kept slipping back in at the worst times.He shouldn’t be thinking about him like this. Not about a Blackmoor. Not about a guy. Christ. He’d never given a damn about another man this way. Not once. But every time those memories hit, it was like something primal in him didn’t care. Couldn’t care.That wide-eyed look Milo had given him when he’d stripped down that night, stunned and pink-cheeked like he didn’t know whether to run or drop to his knees. The way his lips had parted when Ethan had stood towering over him, cock hard and proud—fuck, he could still see it.The faint hitch in his breath when Ethan had palmed the sex toy, when he’d eased it inside that tight, perfect body, watching Milo bite his lip so hard it must

The warmth hit first.It was almost a shock after the ice of the shower. Skin on skin, heat sinking in deep, deeper. Milo gasped again before he could stop it, muscles too weak to pull away.The rough drag of a towel over his frozen limbs. The press of Ethan’s bare chest, hard and hot beneath him. The steady thrum of his heartbeat where Milo’s cheek ended up, half by instinct.He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.His body was shaking in aftershocks, whether from cold or something worse, he couldn’t tell anymore."You’re gonna fucking sit right here," Ethan growled against his ear. "And get warm. You hear me?"Milo shuddered.He wanted to answer. To say anything. But the words caught in his throat.Because somewhere in that tangle of heat and muscle, he felt it.The hard press beneath him. Thick. Unmistakable.He froze.Shock jolted through him, sharp and dizzying. For a heartbeat, he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t believe what his body was pressed against.Ethan was... aroused.Not just hard