Expose on the Ice (Sparks on the Ice #1)

Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

CARTER

I slam my fist against the elevator button, my jaw clenched so tight I think my teeth might crack. The team has barely checked into the hotel, and already Lily is making herself at home. As if she belongs here. As if she has any right to be a part of our world. I haven’t even been able to get a cup of coffee without her staring at me from across the room, notepad in hand.

The elevator dings. I stalk inside, punching the button for my floor with more force than necessary. My mind races, replaying the scenes from earlier over and over. The way she’d made me look like a fool at the restaurant, how she’d held my gaze without flinching. And then, to make matters worse, she’d spent the bus ride to the airport and the flight and the next bus ride to the hotel laughing and joking with the guys.

My fists clench at my sides as the elevator climbs.

Who the hell does she think she is?

It’s bad enough that I’d played like shit the other night, her questions and general presence weighing on me and affecting my game more than any defender could.

But now she’s here.

Everywhere.

All the time.

When the doors slide open, I storm down the hallway towards the team meeting room. Coach Carson has called a quick strategy session before we call it a night, and I’m ready to blow off some steam surrounded by nobody but the guys.

But as I approach the open door, the sound of laughter spills out into the hallway. Familiar voices mix with one that doesn’t belong – Lily’s. My steps falter for a moment before I push forward, my anger surging closer to DEFCON 1 with each step.

I enter the room, and there she is, sitting on the edge of a table, surrounded by half the team. Tank is gesturing wildly, clearly in the middle of some story, while Echo and a few of the other guys listen with grins on their faces.

And Lily? She’s laughing, her head thrown back, totally at ease. Like she’s known these guys for years instead of days. Like she belongs here at all. The sight makes my blood boil, but it also sparks a whole movie’s worth of primal thoughts in my head.

And I hate myself for it.

The way she’s perched on the edge of the table, wearing a denim skirt, one leg crossed over the other, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of toned calf, more than enough to make any man’s imagination run wild…

The way her oversized t-shirt that is French tucked into the skirt hangs off one shoulder, showing a bra strap that is crimson and lacy, and hints at curves that the t-shirt hides well, but the imagination paints just fine…

I shake my head. Get it together, Carter.

I hate how good she looks. How at ease she seems, surrounded by my teammates. How her laughter rings out, genuine and infectious. It makes something twist in my gut, a feeling I can’t quite name but don’t like one bit.

I’ve played with these guys for years, yet I’ve never been this close to them. I can’t be, not with them, or with anyone. It would shake loose the tight screws that hold my secrets in place.

“Knox!” Tank’s booming voice snaps me out of my daze. “Get your ass over here. I was just telling Lily?—”

“I don’t give a shit,” I growl, cutting him off. I stalk over to an empty chair, deliberately choosing one as far from Lily as possible.

The guys exchange glances, and a few smirks and rolled eyes, but I ignore them, focusing on pulling out my playbook. But then I hear Lily clear her throat, and despite my best efforts, my eyes are drawn to her like a magnet.

She’s shifted position, leaning forward slightly as she addresses the room. The movement causes her t-shirt to fall forward enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, and I find myself wondering if she’s done it on purpose.

Is this all part of her game?

Dressing like that?

Charming my teammates?

Getting under my skin?

Well, it’s working.

“Well,” Lily says, her voice light but with an edge I recognize all too well, “I should probably let you guys get to your meeting…”

Her green eyes lock onto mine, challenging and amused all at once. I feel my face heat up, a mix of anger and something else I don’t want to examine too closely.

“Good idea,” I bite out. “Some of us actually have work to do.”

Lily’s eyebrow arches, and for a moment, I think she might fire back. But then she just smiles, a slow, knowing curve of her lips that makes my stomach flip.

“Me too, actually,” she says, sliding off the table with a grace that draws every eye in the room. “First story is due to be filed after the game tomorrow.”

I feel a flash of fear at the mention. I know I’m the prime target of her exposé, and I have no idea what she’s dug up. I’ve given her nothing, but have others? Does she have enough to pry loose the veneer covering my past?

Yet even in my panicked state, which I don’t dare show a hint of, I can’t help but notice the sway of her hips as she heads for the door, the way her skirt hugs her ass perfectly. I tear my gaze away, only to find Tank watching me with a shit-eating grin.

“Our little reporter is getting under your skin more than any defender I’ve seen, Knox,” Tank says with a laugh. “Maybe you should swim with the tide, knock on her door with a bottle of wine, and…”

I open my mouth to tell him exactly where he can shove that idea, but Coach chooses that moment to walk in, effectively ending the conversation. A minute later, we’re deep into talking strategy for our upcoming game.

I try to focus. But my mind keeps drifting.

The flash of her smile…

The threat of that pen in her hand…

The curves of her body…

The danger of what she might have scribbled on her notepad…

The fire in her eyes…

I’d thought having her around would be annoying. Inconvenient. But this? This is dangerous. Because as much as I hate to admit it, Lily Grant is getting to me.

The meeting passes in a blur. I know plenty has happened during the time, but I don’t say a thing or remember a word. I’m too angry, frustrated, intrigued, distracted.

Afraid.

She’s thrown my life into disarray in only a few days, without even publishing a thing. She’s everywhere, always watching, to the extent I’m surprised she isn’t waiting for me in the elevator after the meeting.

After the meeting, I ride the lift to level nineteen, where my hotel room promises rare sanctuary. I just want to get to my room, slam the door, and forget this whole day. But, of course, the universe has other plans.

As the doors open, she’s waiting.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, stepping out.

Lily raises an eyebrow, her green eyes glinting with amusement. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” I say.

“I’m staying in this hotel too.”

The narrow corridor suddenly feels suffocating. I can smell her perfume, something light and floral that makes my head spin. We’re too close, the space between us too charged with an energy I don’t want to name.

“Look,” I growl, trying to regain some control over the situation. “You need to back off, okay? Stop disrupting the team. This little stunt you’re pulling?—”

“Stunt?” Lily cuts me off, her voice sharp. “I’m doing my job, Knox. The only one disrupting anything here is you.”

I laugh. “Me? I’m not the one worming my way into team meetings, cozying up to the guys, looking – always looking – and?—”

“Looking?” She scoffs, taking a step closer, getting right inside my space. “You’re the one who can’t keep his eyes to himself.”

That catches me off guard a little. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I saw you staring at me in the meeting room,” she says. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you… looking for a name badge… the first time we met.”

Heat rushes to my face, a mix of anger and embarrassment. “I wasn’t?—”

“Save it,” Lily says, her voice low and challenging. “You’re not half as subtle as you think you are, Carter, nor a quarter as mysterious as you try to be…”

We stand there, locked in a heated stare-down. The air between us crackles with tension, and I suddenly become hyper-aware of every detail. The way her chest rises and falls with each breath. The faint flush on her cheeks. The curve of her lips as they quirk into a smirk.

Then she smirks.

And it dawns on me.

She knows exactly what she’s doing. This is her plan.

Get the guys on side, challenge and frustrate me, get me hot and bothered.

And it’s working.

I need to get out of here.

Now.

Without another word, I brush past her, my shoulder grazing hers as I storm towards my room. I can feel her eyes on me, burning into my back as I fumble with my key card.

“Sweet dreams,” Lily calls after me, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

I slam the door behind me, leaning against it as I try to catch my breath. My heart is racing, and I can’t tell if it’s from anger or something else entirely.

The stakes of the game we’re playing couldn’t be higher – my past, my secrets, my career, my future – and she’s winning. No, screw that. She isn’t just winning, she’s skating rings around me.

I need to get away from her. My mind races, trying to think of options. Could I feign an injury and head back to Omaha? Nah, Mark and Coach would make me stick around…

Fuck.

There’s no escaping her, yet I also can’t stop thinking about her.

My mind in overdrive, I pace the length of the room, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides. I’m caught in the middle of a battle between the spark of attraction I’ve tried to ignore, the anger that burns between us.

I stop abruptly, raking a hand through my hair, more frustrated than I’ve been in a long time. Angry at myself for letting her get under my skin. Scared of what she might uncover. And turned on, no matter how much I don’t want to admit it.

I clench my jaw, my gaze falling to the bed. Suddenly, an unexpected rush of desire takes me by surprise. A need to forget, to escape, to assert some control over this situation. Usually, I’d try to hit the ice, but I can’t guarantee she wouldn’t be there.

No, the only place I can be alone and get some damn respite right now is in my room.

Before I’ve fully processed what I’m doing, I head towards the bed, my heart pounding in my chest. I can still see her face, her arched brow, the smirk that taunts me. I can still hear her voice, each word laced with a challenge.

My hands move to my belt, then lower my pants, my thoughts consumed by her. I imagine her eyes, the way they dare me to act, and my mind races with thoughts of how to respond to that dare, to assert some control over her .

As my hand eases inside my briefs, wrapped around my cock and starts to work, a kaleidoscope of Lily’s body races through my mind, passing moments stitched together into a movie that turns my hand into a turbocharged piston.

Those curves…

Up and down.

Those legs…

Angry. Aggressive.

That cleavage…

Powerful.

Those lips…

In control.

As I power the engine of my desire, with thoughts of her as my fuel, I yearn to see all of her, to taste all of her. I imagine stripping her bare, the way she’s trying to do to me, then losing myself in the heat of her body and the fire of her touch.

I want to rock her world like she’s rocked mine. Open her up like she’s trying to open me up. Go deep inside, fast and hard, and make things explode like a fucking supernova, just like she’s threatening to do to my life.

By now, my body is moving with a will of its own, powered by anger and lust. But it isn’t just about release, it’s about reclaiming power over myself and my life, proving to myself that she hasn’t affected me one damn bit.

No longer satisfied by images of her body, my imagination takes me further, into her, penetrating her with the same fierce energy with which she’s tried to penetrate my life. I teeter on the edge, my eyes squeezed shut, as pleasure slams into me like a blow to the chest.

I’ve lost all sense of time and space, consumed by the overwhelming need to explode. And, with a hoarse cry, I orgasm harder than I ever have. I feel like I’m shattering, like my body is breaking free of the stress and frustration of the last few days. I grit my teeth as wave after wave of pleasure ripples through me.

When I finally open my eyes, my heart is pounding, my breath coming in harsh gasps. And, at that moment, I get a flash of clarity that makes me even more determined to not let her win.

What does she know, anyway? I scoff. There’s nothing my teammates can tell her, and nothing to find.

It killed me at the time, and still does, but we’d covered up every inch of the truth about Sarah’s death, and Lily Grant doesn’t know a damn thing. As I head to the bathroom, my mind shifts to cleaning up. And not just this mess I’ve made.

She can flash all the leg and tit she likes, wear all the tight clothes, taunt me and grate on me, butter up to Coach and Mark and all the other shitheads in a jersey, but none of it will matter if I don’t let her get to me. If I don’t let her win.

And that isn’t going to happen.