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

Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

LILY

C arter Knox looms over me, eyes dark with a mix of anger and unbridled lust. My body tingles with anticipation, every inch of my skin humming as if electrified by his presence. I stand there paralyzed, torn between fear and desire as he closes the distance between us, his breath hot against my ear.

"You want to strip my life bare?" he growls, voice rough and filled with menace. "Let’s see how you like it."

His hands move in a blur, yanking at my clothes, tearing fabric. My blouse rips open, cool air hitting my now exposed skin. A gasp escapes my lips, half shock, half arousal. Carter’s eyes flicker to my chest, darkening with need.

His rough hands push my skirt up, bunching it around my waist. He tears my panties aside, the fabric snapping with a sharp sound. Shocked, but also hot for him, I’ve frozen, and he’s working his way across every inch of me like he does an ice rink.

Before I can catch my breath, Carter’s mouth is on my breasts, his tongue flicking over my nipples. The sensation is exquisite, sending jolts of pleasure straight to my core. I squirm beneath him, my hands reaching out to clutch at his broad shoulders.

His erection presses against me, hard and insistent. He doesn’t ask a question or wait for an answer. With one hand holding me firmly in place, his other guides his thick cock to my entrance. There’s no tenderness in his movements, only raw, animalistic need.

It’s powerful.

And scary.

And amazing.

He thrusts into me with no warning, and I cry out, the sudden intrusion sending shivers up my spine. He’s relentless, each powerful stroke driving me higher, pushing me towards the brink of madness. My nails dig into his back, leaving marks that will surely linger.

"Feel that?" he growls, his breath hot against my neck. "You’ve pushed past all my barriers and torn me wide open, Lily. Now it’s my turn."

His words only spur me on, my body responding to his every touch, every thrust. My hips move in rhythm with his, desperate for more. I want to hate him for his roughness, but the pleasure is too overwhelming. Each thrust sends waves of ecstasy through me, coiling tight in my core, ready to explode.

I’m yanked from my dream by the insistent buzzing of my phone

My eyes fly open, and I find myself alone in my bed, my body still trembling from the intensity of the dream. My sheets are damp with sweat, my chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. The echo of Carter’s rough touch lingers on my skin.

I lay there, heart racing, wide awake and shaken by the vividness of the dream. The line between reality and fantasy has never seemed so blurred, and the desire still thrums in my veins, pulling me towards thoughts I know I shouldn’t entertain.

But the pounding of reality brings me back to Earth.

I groan, burying my face deeper into my pillow. The events of last night play on repeat in my mind, quickly overwhelming the remnants of my dream, each moment of recollection twisting the knife of guilt and shame a little deeper in my gut.

Carter’s face, contorted with anger and betrayal.

His words, sharp and accusing.

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory, but it’s futile.

My phone buzzes again. I peek at the screen – Mark Turner. Great. The team manager is probably calling to revoke my press pass and ban me from the arena for life. I let it go to voicemail, just like I had with the calls from Coach Carson, half the team, Frank…

I pull the covers over my head, creating a dark cocoon where I can hide from the world and my thoughts. But even in the darkness, I can’t escape the gnawing feeling in my gut, and the truth of the situation: I’m torn between my career and my feelings for Carter.

I’d worked so hard to get here, to land this assignment. It was supposed to be my big break, my chance to prove myself. And now? Now it feels like everything is crumbling around me. And the person I’d considered sacrificing it for – to protect him, to be with him – hates my guts more than ever.

A loud banging on my bedroom door makes me jump.

"Lily Grant, I swear to God, if you don’t open this door, I’m breaking it down!" Jess’s voice carries through the wood, a mix of concern and frustration.

I groan. "Go away, Jess."

"Not a chance in hell," she says. "I’ve given you space, I’ve left food outside your door, but enough is enough. You’ve got ten seconds before I start kicking."

Knowing she isn’t bluffing, I reluctantly drag myself out of bed and shuffle to the door. I open it to find Jess standing there, hands on her hips, worry etched across her face. She pushes past me and into the room.

"Jesus, Lil. You look like hell," she says. "And it stinks in here."

I slump back onto my bed. "Thanks. I feel worse."

Jess perches on the edge of the mattress, her eyes searching my face. "What happened last night?"

The dam breaks. Words pour out of me in a jumbled mess – the story, Carter’s accusation, Frank’s betrayal. Jess listens, her expression growing darker with each revelation, the heaviness of the moment impacting even her deep reserves of pep and sass.

"Someone stole my notes," I say, my voice cracking. "God, the look on Carter’s face. He thinks I betrayed him. But I didn’t write it, Jess."

Jess wraps an arm around my shoulders. "Any idea who leaked your stuff?"

I shake my head and lean into her embrace, grateful for her support. "I don’t know what to do. I want to grab my big shot, but… I don’t want to hurt him."

"Oh, honey," Jess sighs. "You’ve got it bad, don’t you?"

I nod miserably. "I think I do. And now he hates me."

"He doesn’t hate you," Jess says firmly. "He’s hurt and lashing out. Give him time to cool down."

"What about my career? Frank used my notes without my permission. Not to mention, I don’t know how he got them!"

Jess squeezes me tight. "Right now, we need to focus on clearing your name with Carter, if he’s what you really want."

"I don’t know what I want." I shake my head. "I don’t know if I can face Frank, or Carter, or Mark, or the team. Maybe I should just quit. Hide in here."

"Lily Grant," Jess says, gripping my shoulders. "You are not a quitter. You’re going to get up, take a shower, and then we’ll figure this out. Together."

CARTER

I wake with a pounding headache, the events of last night hitting me like a tidal wave. Indiana. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the memories, but they persist. What the hell had I been thinking? How did I think that would make things better ?

The charity event, the article, confronting Lily, and then… Indiana. I’d been hurt by Lily, overwhelmed by the situation and what it meant for my family and my future, and then I’d acted like a complete jackass. It was loss of control that was unusual for me.

My phone buzzes insistently on the nightstand. Reluctantly, I reach for it, squinting at the screen. Missed calls from my agent, Coach Carson, and half the team.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed and dropping my head into my hands. The room spins slightly, a reminder of how much I’d had to drink last night. As if I needed another reason to feel like shit.

My agent’s voicemail is first. "Carter, call me back immediately. We need to get ahead of this story. I’ve got PR working on a statement, but we need to talk."

Delete.

Next is a text from Tank. "Are you okay, man? That article was rough. We’ve got your back, no matter what, dude."

Delete.

I’m not ready to deal with any of it. Everything I’d tried so hard to keep buried had been dragged into the light, painted in the most sensational way possible. And it was Lily’s fault.

Lily.

Despite everything, my finger hovers over her contact. Part of me wants to call her, to hear her voice and… what? Yell some more? Hope like hell she has an explanation?

I’m not even sure.

But I can’t do it. Not yet. The anger and hurt are still too raw, even if a small voice in the back of my mind whispers that maybe, just maybe, I’d overreacted. Maybe, just maybe, there’s another explanation.

I flop back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. No matter how I look at it, I’d only made things worse. Pushing Lily away, sleeping with Indiana – it was all just running from the real problem.

The past I’d never truly dealt with.

My sister’s face flashes in my mind, and I feel the familiar ache in my chest. Sarah. God, I miss her. And now everyone knows. Well, they know part of it, anyway. The article hadn’t unearthed everything, but it had gotten enough.

I grab my phone again, scrolling through the notifications. More missed calls, texts from teammates offering support, and… a voicemail from my mother. Shit. I can’t bring myself to listen to it. Instead, I stare at Lily’s contact again. Despite everything, I can’t shake the memory of that night at the rink.

The way she’d listened, really listened, without judgment.

The softness in her eyes when I’d opened up.

And I’d thrown it all away because I was scared. Scared of being vulnerable, of letting someone in. It was easier to be angry, to push her away, to hide from the past, to fuck a stranger. But now, in the cold light of day, I realize that anger is fading, leaving behind a hollow ache.

For her.

LILY

Under the hot spray of the shower, the warmth seeps into my muscles, but it can’t wash away the knot of anxiety in my stomach. I close my eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of the water rather than the mess my life has become.

"So, any ideas on who might’ve taken your notes?" Jess’s voice carries over the sound of the water.

I sigh, reaching for the shampoo. "I’ve been racking my brain, but I just can’t figure it out."

"Well," Jess says, her tone shifting into problem-solving mode. "Who had access to your notes?"

I lather up my hair, considering her question. "Anyone near my bag could have?—

"What?" Jess says.

I freeze, my hands still tangled in my soapy hair. "That’s it…"

"What?" Jess presses.

"The stuff that leaked… it was all from my work bag," I say slowly, my mind racing. "None of the stuff here, in the apartment, was in the story."

I can practically hear the gears turning in Jess’s head. "So, the leaked information came specifically from the notes you had with you at team events?"

"Exactly," I say, a chill running down my spine despite the hot water as the realization hits me. "Which means…"

"It had to be someone on or around the team," Jess finishes my thought. "But who would do that to Carter? And why?"

I step out of the shower and take the towel Jess hands to me. "I don’t know, but I’m going to figure it out."

"And then get the guy?" Jess smirks.

As I dry myself, I laugh, the first time since I’d been crushed at the charity ball. "You should have seen our dance, Jess. It was the hottest thing…"

"I could think of a few hotter things," Jess smirks. "Carter’s tongue in your mouth…"

"Jess…" I say.

"Carter’s tongue in your?—

"Jess!" I squeal.

I throw the towel at her, both of us erupting with laughter. But despite the lighthearted moment, my mind is already working overtime. I grab my robe and cinch the belt tight, feeling a new sense of resolve.

The hurt and betrayal are still there, lurking beneath the surface like a bruise, but a fierce determination to uncover the truth overshadows them. For the first time in days, I feel my reporter brain shift out of neutral and into gear.

Someone had used my work, my trust, to hurt Carter and potentially derail my career. The thought makes my stomach churn and my fists clench. I’m not about to let them get away with it, no matter what it takes to find out who’s responsible.

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. No, whoever is behind this – whoever on the team had wanted to hurt Carter and undermine me – is going to learn that they’d picked the wrong bitch to mess with, even if it costs me .

The game is on, and I’m ready to play.