All Chapters of Owned on the Ice M/M Romance: Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

The final buzzer hit like a gut punch.4–3. A loss.So close.The locker room afterward was chaos. Medics, trainers, players, everyone buzzing around, trying to sort the broken from the bruised. Jess was already moving, her voice sharp and focused as she called out assignments, flagged down staff, and checked injury notes on her tablet.Milo stuck close, hovering at her shoulder, wide-eyed as the storm unfolded. He'd never seen such a violent game.A medic clapped their hands and called out, "If you're bleeding or have a head wound, raise your hand."Noah, still sweating through his jersey, raised a hand without ceremony, revealing a gash cutting through muscle, the blood dried and dark at the edges. Milo winced at the sight. No wonder they were sending some players to the hospital.Jessica didn’t slow for a second, turning to flag a second medic for Josh, who was half out of his gear, a purple bruise blossoming on one side.Milo pressed himself against the wall, watching the mess of

Milo’s heart still hadn’t settled by the time he reached the hotel bar.He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind the counter as he stepped inside, flushed, lips swollen, hair a wreck. He looked exactly like someone who’d just cum in his jeans.He winced and ran a hand through his already messy blond hair.What the hell had he been thinking?Letting Ethan touch him again, kiss him like that. It didn’t matter how good it had felt. How perfect his mouth was. How wrecked and wanted Milo had felt under those hands.He’d barely escaped the first time. He couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t survive the whiplash of being wanted one second and pushed away the next. If he let Ethan keep doing this... keep being this... he was going to lose more than his mind.The bar was already buzzing when he stepped in fully. His new teammates gathered around a high table, drinks in hand, laughter loud and easy.“Laskey!” someone called, waving him over. “Get your ass in here, new rookie!”A few more

Ethan didn’t say another word.One strong arm wrapped around Milo’s waist, another draped his arm across a set of broad shoulders. And then they were moving.Milo swayed with the motion, legs unsteady, but Ethan kept him upright like it was second nature. Like carrying him was something he’d done a thousand times.The elevator ride blurred. His head dropped against Ethan’s shoulder, his breath shallow and uneven, brushing hot across fabric and skin. Delicious, tanned skin that smelled entirely of Ethan. That scent, soap and sweat and something darker, coiled through Milo’s lungs like smoke. Every inch of contact made his stomach swirl.He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He just enjoyed it.They reached the door and Ethan paused. "Where's your key card?"Milo blinked, sluggish, and fumbled at his pocket without success."Jesus," Ethan muttered, and reached in himself.Milo's breath caught. The touch was slow, searching, his hips twitching just slightly at the contact, hazy warmth pool

Ethan was braced above him like some living wall. Half-shadow, half-sculpture, all heat.His dark hair was tousled and sticking up in chaotic tufts, his jaw rough with stubble that shadowed the sharp lines of his face. Sleep had softened him around the eyes, but it hadn’t dulled the power radiating off him. If anything, it made him more dangerous. More unreal.He wore nothing but a pair of low-slung black boxers.And Milo couldn’t help it, his eyes dropped.To the broad, bare chest suspended above him. The hard slope of muscle from collarbone to abdominals. The deep V that disappeared below the waistband. Thick arms braced him on either side of Milo’s head, forearms bulging as they pressed into the mattress, caging Milo in.A flicker of heat licked low in his belly.Milo tried to look away, tried to breathe normally, but his chest was tight, his brain scrambled.Ethan wasn’t doing anything. Just watching him.Watching like he knew.And Milo didn’t know how long he could pretend last

By the time the bus pulled into the Vancouver hotel, the late morning drizzle had thickened into full gray skies. Milo followed the rest of the team off the bus, eyes catching on the Stormriders’ duffel bags being unloaded and the polished glass lobby ahead.They didn’t go to their rooms right away. Instead, they were led straight into a conference room on the second floor that the coaching staff had commandeered for the day.The space was warm, fluorescent-lit, and filled with the scent of catered food, trays of sandwiches, pasta, energy bars, fruit. Someone had already brewed a fresh pot of coffee. A projector screen was set up at the front of the room with lines and plays waiting to be reviewed.Milo grabbed a paper plate and quietly served himself half a turkey sandwich and a few grapes before slipping into a seat at the back of the room.Ethan entered with a water bottle and two full sandwiches and dropped into the seat beside him without asking. Josh and Becker settled nearby, t