Whispers on the Ice (10 page)

“Maybe you could use a little more practice,” Jordan taunted, quickly skating out of his reach when he grabbed for her.

Aleksei raced after her, easily catching her, lifting her and spinning her around until she was breathless. “What part needs practice?” he asked deeply, his eyes darkening sensuously as his breath mixed with hers.

“This part.” Jordan whispered, then pulled his mouth down to meet hers. Her lips parted at the first touch of his lips, her breath blending with his as his lips covered hers, gently caressing their softness.

“Jordan,” Aleksei whispered softly, easily lifting her off her feet then setting her back down. Expectantly he looked into her upturned face, smiling gently at her amazed expression.

“I can’t believe what just happened!” She gasped, her breath still a bit shaky. How did you do that?”

Aleksei shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s no big deal. I just paid attention to your skating during practices and wanted to skate a clean program for you. I wanted to make our first program something special,” he answered honestly, his voice deep with emotion.

“Well, you succeeded, Mr. Rocmanov. I’m truly stunned and amazed. You make me feel very special,” Jordan whispered, tears of gratitude filling her eyes and slipping down her cheeks. No one had ever given her such a gift.

Aleksei leaned down and gently kissed the tears from her cheeks, unknown emotions of protectiveness surfacing as he wrapped his arms around her small form and held her close, his chin resting on the top of her head as they stood center ice in the silent arena. “It was my pleasure, little one,” he offered quietly.

“Don’t go soft on me now!” Whittaker bellowed, his booming command causing them to pull apart. Jordan and Aleksei smiled into each other’s eyes, an unspoken change between them evident in their eyes.

“What’s the problem, Whittaker?” Aleksei growled, knowing in his heart the program they had just skated had been something close to magical.

“No problem. I just want you to take a look at the tape. You’ll see the hunger there between you through the whole program. I want to keep it there,” Whittaker stated matter-of-factly.

“Why would we change anything? I can’t imagine the program feeling any more ‘right’,” Aleksei stated, holding Jordan’s hand as they skated toward their coaches standing by the door to the ice.

“Denying them time together could end up being a dangerous thing,” Dee stated.

“Dangerous is good too. We’ll have to keep them apart if necessary,” Whittaker decided.

Dee stared in astonishment. “You know what happens when you try to keep people in love with each other apart.”

“In love? Dee, what are you talking about?” Whittaker grunted, casting a quick eye toward the couple nearly upon them.

“A pair couldn’t skate a program like that unless there are deep feelings involved. That wasn’t just a performance, that was a statement as to the beginning of a love that I don’t think they’re even aware of yet. Watch them together, Frank. Something is building between them and I think they deserve the chance to discover it,” Dee quickly stated.

“That’s not love—it’s lust!” Whittaker classified.

“Don’t be such an idiot, Frank. Aleksei’s been nothing but a gentleman…” Frank raised disbelieving eyebrows at Dee’s comment, remembering all too well their skirmish at Dee’s house. “Granted, the news conference was a little rocky, but be that as it may, you can’t stop an avalanche once it’s begun,” Dee stated.

“No, but if they’re separated, other than when they’re training, it reduces the risk of things happening.” Whittaker suggested.

“As in, they can only be together during practice? You know that won’t work. Think about it, if it was you, would you stand those conditions? They know right and wrong. We need to give them a chance to explore what they’re feeling. They’re smart, maybe they’ll just turn out to be very good friends.”

“I don’t know, Dee. I say let’s try it my way. Maybe we can get the point across once they see the tape. It says it all. If we can keep that intensity, we can’t lose.”

“I don’t know. I still say it’s not fair to Jordan and Aleksei.”

“Show them the tape. We’ll discuss it after they’ve seen it.”

“I can’t wait for that discussion,” Dee could only mumble, knowing how Jordan and Aleksei would take the suggestion that they would only be allowed together during practice, to keep the intensity in the program.

* * * *

“Screw the intensity…” Aleksei suggested darkly, the look in his eyes dangerous as they looked directly at Whittaker then softening perceptibly when they slid to Jordan.

Jordan returned his look with a soft smile and looked to Dee. “What’s your opinion?” Jordan asked calmly.

Dee glanced from Jordan to Aleksei to Whittaker, scowling slightly when Whittaker urged her to agree with him. “I think we have something very special here and Whittaker is afraid…”

“Dammit it, I’m not afraid…” Whittaker cut in.

“Whittaker
believes
it would be in your best interest to keep your exposure to one another limited to practice sessions only. He feels…” Dee tried to explain calmly, only to be cut off abruptly by Whittaker.

“For Christ’s sake, Dee, they’re not babies!” Whittaker turned his fiery look from Aleksei to Jordan then back to Aleksei. “I don’t want you wasting your energy melting the sheets, I prefer you save that sexual tension for the ice! Once you see the tape of the program you just skated, you’ll see for yourselves what I’m talking about. I worry that once all the mysteries you see in each other are discovered, the magic we saw today will melt as quickly as a snowball in hell!” Whittaker growled testily.

Aleksei and Jordan sat in dumbstruck silence, Jordan’s eyes wide in astonishment; Aleksei’s darkening in disbelief.

“You think this is about sex?” Aleksei questioned deeply, his voice dangerously soft.

Jordan cast a quick glance at Dee, her cheeks blushing softly, her teeth gently tugging her lower lip. Dee’s answering glance made her lower her gaze downward to watch her fingers lace together in an effort to stop their nervous fluttering.

“Not as far as I’m concerned,” Dee answered surely.

“I wish I could be as certain,” Whittaker stated, watching Aleksei steeple his fingers, a motion he recognized as a firm indicator that Aleksei was reaching the limits of his toleration.

“Whether or not Jordan and I end up romantically linked has nothing to do with our skating. We are partners, first and foremost, and both of us are very aware of that obligation.”

“I’m not worried about your individual skating abilities. I’m perfectly aware of your capabilities, and your limitations. What I want from the two of you is your promise that after you see the program you just skated, you will be able to repeat it, a hundred times if necessary and leave me feeling the same damn way!” Whittaker demanded.

“That’s asking the impossible, Whittaker, and you know it. There’s never been a pair in history that hasn’t had down time,” Dee stated.

“I’m not talking injuries, illness or vacation time. I’m talking I don’t want a program suffering because you’re fighting over some piddly-shit thing like he didn’t send the right flowers or she didn’t put out when he wanted it. Can the two of you promise me that won’t happen? I don’t want to have to deal with another Steuer and Woetzel scenario!” He growled; referring to the German pair team whose reputation for constantly being angry with one another was renown.

“We’re not Germans, Whittaker,” Aleksei responded.

“No—you’re stubborn—it’ll probably be worse!” Whittaker complained.

“Give us a chance to prove ourselves,” Aleksei stated, reaching over to gently pull Jordan’s hands apart and lace his fingers with hers. “Give us the chance to become a skating-pair, hopefully the best in the world. If anything else comes of it, it will simply be icing on the cake.

Whittaker looked from one to the other. “How much time are you talking about?”

Aleksei looked from Jordan to Whittaker to Dee. “What’s the earliest competition we can qualify for?”

Dee and Whittaker exchanged glances. “The Nationals in nine weeks.” Dee answered.

Aleksei’s gaze returned to Jordan, the question clear in his dark eyes. Jordan’s soft, answering smile was all Aleksei could hope for. “Nine weeks. If our intensity on the ice drops below your expectations, we do it your way. If it stays—we do it our way,” Aleksei stated, offering his extended hand in agreement.

Whittaker looked from one to the other before finally accepting Aleksei’s outstretched hand. “Against my better judgment, I’ll agree. But one bad performance—we do it my way.”

Aleksei and Whittaker shook hands, each firmly believing they would prove the other wrong. Aleksei released his coach’s hand, gently shook Dee’s hand and softly kissed Jordan’s cheek.

“We can do this,” he softly whispered into her ear, squeezing her hand to reinforce his belief and reassure her of their choice.

“I never had any doubt about it. Nobody leaves, remember?” Jordan stated quietly, yet firmly, then cast a quick glance and prayer heavenward.

CHAPTER 6  

The nine weeks passed in a blur, practices lasting all day and well into each night. Whittaker pushed the limits of their endurance and patience to their very maximum. Jordan and Aleksei had little time for thinking about their blossoming feelings let alone encouraging them. They had to settle for quickly stolen hugs, longing glances and one gentle kiss that had been over far too soon as far as Jordan was concerned. And Jordan’s heart melted every time Aleksei slid his hand into hers, their fingers weaving together and forming an unbreakable bond. Thankfully, Aleksei took every opportunity to hold her hand, gently rubbing his thumb against her own, causing tingles of pleasure to rush straight to her heart. Despite their hectic practice sessions, their mood remained light and happy, their practices all they had promised Whittaker they would be. They didn’t give him the opportunity or any reason to separate them from one another. They maintained their focus and intensity and still made Dee weep with emotion every time she watched the program.

Costumes were designed, selected and created, glorious creations of flowing candlelight chiffon for Jordan’s dress with crystal and bronze colored bead detailing and nearly indecent deep bronze colored form fitting pants for Aleksei, topped off by a shimmering copper colored tunic over an off-white shirt with flowing sleeves. The costumes were due to be delivered by noon and plans for a formal dress rehearsal were underway.

“Aren’t the costumes suppose to be here already?” Whittaker barked at Dee.

“They said noon. Take a look at your watch, Whittaker. Does it say twelve o’clock yet?” Dee fired back, her patience more than a little worn.

Scowling, Whittaker did just that, scowling again and lifting it to his ear to make sure it was working.

“Whittaker, you’re losing it.” Aleksei offered, shaking his legs to get the kinks out. “We’ve still got five days until our ‘debut’.”

“You’ve never skated with chiffon slapping you in the face while you’re holding someone over your head. I don’t want any accidents!” Whittaker growled, casting another frustrated look toward the office at the end of the rink.

Dee couldn’t take it anymore. “Thirty minutes for lunch. Make it a light one,” she suggested, putting up her hand to silence Whittaker’s impending argument.

Jordan and Aleksei felt the pressure building as their first competition approached, trying to dissipate the mounting tension between their coaches. All four of them were bombs ready to explode and simply looking for a place to do it. When Dee gave them the opportunity, they didn’t need another excuse to escape. Quickly they skated to the doorway at rink side and slipped their blade guards carefully over their perfectly sharpened blades. Thirty minutes didn’t give them much time alone so they headed for the closest place available, the work-out area off the locker rooms. Rushing like lunatics, they crashed through the double doors, laughing out loud when the doors slammed loudly against the walls then swooshed quietly closed behind them. Thankfully they were alone in the large room. Aleksei looked down into Jordan’s upturned, flushed face and read the wanting expression in her deep green eyes, his own gaze questioning. Jordan carefully cupped his face in her hands and quickly offered a heated whisper,“I want you so much, Aleksei, it almost hurts.”

Aleksei needed no further encouragement, quickly he pulled Jordan into a small niche separating the lockers and pushed her against the wall, his body immediately following and melting into hers. Their mouths met hungrily, their breaths blending, their hands pulling each other closer and running erotically up and down each other’s bodies. Aleksei’s hands clutched Jordan’s rounded bottom, pulling her firmly against his crotch, leaving no doubt in her mind as to how she affected him. Moaning softly, Jordan pushed against him, her own heated response clear to him.

“Dear, God, I can’t stand this much longer,” Aleksei growled deeply, his teeth hungrily devouring her neck, his hands running riot over her hips and bottom.

Jordan closed her eyes in ecstasy, flashes of brightly colored lights exploding behind her closed eyelids as Aleksei tortured her with kisses and soft bites to her neck and shoulders. Her hands touched him everywhere, searing him with her heat through his snug T-shirt and then sliding beneath the worn, soft material to finally touch his bare skin beneath. “Aleksei…” came out as a sigh, then was swallowed when his lips claimed hers hotly.

“They’re here!” Whittaker bellowed, pushing through the double doors excitedly, two garment bags held in his arms.

“Terrific,” Aleksei mumbled in frustration, pushing away from Jordan with a last painful glance. Jordan smiled and blew him a kiss.

“Where’s mine?” she asked excitedly, playfully swatting Aleksei on his butt as she skipped past him.

Whittaker scowled at Aleksei, then Jordan as she took the bag he held toward her. “Stay out of the corners!” he growled, knowing all too well the signs of rising passion. “Put these on and let’s see how they play on the ice. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”

“What about our thirty minute break?” Aleksei inquired innocently, casting an innocent look at Whittaker, then smiling mischievously at Jordan.

“It’s over. Fifteen minutes!” Whittaker barked, then turned to leave only to stop, walk to where Jordan was standing and firmly grasp her hand, pulling her with him.

Jordan cast a final look over her shoulder at Aleksei, smiled and stated smartly, “Fifteen minutes!” Aleksei’s rich laughter filled the air, back dropping Whittaker’s complaints as to the impertinence of today’s youth.

* * * * *

Dee critically eyed Jordan’s costume. Yards of flowing candlelight chiffon made up the full sleeves and flowing empire-waisted skirt, which fell to below her knees. Crystal and bronze beads intertwined in an intricate design across the demi-vest that covered her breasts; a little too snugly as far as Dee was concerned as she looked at the swelling curves of Jordan’s breasts spilling over the top. The full sleeves were slit to show form-fitting under-sleeves of deep bronze.

“This is gorgeous,” Jordan whispered reverently. Lifting her arms and watching the way the chiffon flowed.

“The neckline won’t work,” Dee stated, then tried in vain to pull it a bit higher.

Jordan eyed her uplifted breasts in the mirror and smiled at Dee. “I bet Aleksei won’t mind it.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it even more when he lifts you and you fall out of your bodice completely,” she stated flatly. “Unfortunately, the judges don’t give extra points for that.”

“Only during exhibition,” Jordan joked then apologized for the sorry attempt at the pun. “Can we give it a try and see how much needs to be added to keep me covered?”

“We’ll have to, we’re running out of time,” Dee agreed and again checked the length of the skirt. “I’m also worried about this length. It may need to come up, we don’t need you tripping over it.”

“Let’s try it and see where we stand,” Jordan urged, turning from side to side and seeing it flow around her softly. “You’re right. Let’s see if Aleksei’s costume fared any better,” Dee urged and led the way to the ice.

* * * * *

“Doesn’t the U.S.F.S.A. prohibit pants like this?” Aleksei inquired irritably, referring to the United States Figure Skating Association who mandated the rules of competition clothing as he checked the form-fitting pants from all angles in the mirror and noted that they left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Whittaker smiled smugly, unconcerned and slowly circled Aleksei. He was right, the pants were nearly indecent and showed off Aleksei’s muscular legs and butt to perfection. Whittaker wasn’t too concerned about his butt because the shirt and tunic would cover a good portion of it. “Put the tunic on and let’s see how you feel before you start bitching too loudly,” He growled and handed him the garment.

Aleksei pulled the tunic over his head and slipped muscular arms through the flowing full sleeves, buttoning the cuffs as Whittaker zipped up the back.

“Covers your ass,” Whittaker stated, pulling the tunic into place and running his hands across his shoulders to check the fit there. “Fits up top—turn around.”

Aleksei did as told and found himself facing the mirror full on. His eyes widened as he noticed the deep ‘v’ of his tunic and the amount of his chest showing beneath the neatly laced shirt, the curling black hair clearly visible.

“The girls will love it,” Whittaker stated, his gaze running up and down Aleksei’s tall form.

“These pants are going to kill me!” Aleksei complained, pulling at the clinging cloth.

“Get used to it,” Whittaker stated firmly, then slapped Aleksei on the back. “Let’s hit the ice.”

“You get used to something creeping up your ass,” Aleksei grumbled as he followed his coach to the ice, still pulling the offending fabric away as it crept into places it shouldn’t.

“You’ve been creeping up my ass for years. Quit your bitching!” Whittaker tossed over his shoulder and continued on his way.

Aleksei’s deeply voiced mimic of Whittaker’s last statement caused Whittaker’s shoulders to shake with laughter. “Yeah, and if you’re real lucky, I’ll be creeping up it another ten years!”

“Deal,” Whittaker said taking a seat rink side.

* * * * *

Aleksei had never seen a more beautiful vision on the ice than when he first viewed Jordan in her costume, skating gracefully away from him, the chiffon flowing softly around her long, shapely legs. She executed a perfect spiral, one leg raised in a high straight line, her arms crossed beautifully over her chest, then as she rounded the far corner of the rink and moved toward Aleksei, she spread her arms wide, the sleeves flowing in the gentle breeze she made as she glided over the gleaming ice. Aleksei nearly fell over when he saw her breasts close to spilling out of her top.

“You were right, Dee, the skirt’s too long. If I drop to my usual spiral position, it’s on the ice,” Jordan called, testing the length as she dipped and swayed.

“Drop any lower and that’s not all that’ll be on the ice!” Aleksei growled, skating toward her then sliding in next to her, his scowl clearly visible as he looked at her daring neckline.

“Don’t you like it?” Jordan inquired innocently, secretly enjoying his show of possessiveness.

“You know I do, I just don’t need everyone else liking it too!” he growled deeply, trying to tug the neckline up.

“Won’t work, Dee tried that,” Jordan stated, slapping his hands away and sliding back to take a good, full look at him.

Jordan’s breath caught as she looked at him. She’d never seen anyone more handsome and virile in such a costume and her eyes widened in astonishment and pleasure as she took in his snug pants and impressive shoulders. “Isn’t there a law against looking as good as you do?” she whispered, running a hand lovingly down his chest.

Aleksei’s smile was at once smug and surprised. “No one will see me once they get a look at you,” Aleksei countered, “Even after we fix that neckline,” he finished, caressing her soft curves with a heated glance.

“If you’re through, let’s try this in costume,” Whittaker yelled and made his way to the CD player.

“Positions,” Dee stated, waiting until Jordan and Aleksei were center ice, then nodded to Whittaker.

“Ready,” Aleksei advised, his deep voice carrying easily over the ice.

The music began and Aleksei and Jordan became Romeo and Juliet.

* * * * *

In all actuality, they looked more like two of the three stooges. Barely a minute into the program, Aleksei nearly dropped Jordan during their split-triple twist lift when her full skirt caused his hold on her waist to slip and she fell heavily against him. Fortunately, his size and strength over-powered the blow and he was able to keep them from falling to the ice. The next dilemma occurred on their side-by-side sit-spin combination when her skirt caught his blade, nearly ripping it completely off, throwing them both off balance and causing them to both wind up spinning on the ice on their butts. It was at that point that Aleksei’s pants split up the back. Eventually sliding to a stop side by side, they looked at the wreck their costumes were and found all they could do was laugh hysterically.

Aleksei’s loudly called, “I told you they were too damn tight!” sent Jordan into further fits of laughter and she could barely stay on her feet and hold the ruined chiffon of her skirt off the ice as she made her way to the side of the rink.

Dee and Whittaker looked from the pair on the ice to each other, shaking their heads and trying to maintain some dignity, eventually giving in to the sight of the tattered pair. Weeks of work on the lovely costumes had disappeared in under two and a half minutes.

“I believe we need to rethink the costumes,” Whittaker suggested, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye.

“Do you now?” Dee inquired, then burst into gales of laughter as she watched Aleksei rip off the remaining bit of skirt from Jordan’s costume and wrap it around his waist to conceal his split pants.

“Well, that’s a look I wouldn’t have thought of for Juliet,” Whittaker nodded at Jordan. “I kind of like the minimal look,” he suggested, referring to the now even lower neckline, full sleeves and high-cut leotard barely covering her bottom. “Aleksei doesn’t seem to mind it either.”

Dee smiled softly as she watched Aleksei make half-hearted attempts to pinch Jordan’s bottom, while trying to avoid Jordan’s hands as she tried to pull away the fabric covering his torn pants. “I think the U.S. Figure Skating Association might have a different opinion though,” Dee said and called the bedraggled pair off the ice. In a tatter of torn fabrics, the two left the ice to stand before their coaches, trying their best to show some dignity.