Ice Games (18 page)
Authors: Jessica Clare
~~ * ~~
Melody sent six frantic text messages to my phone the next day, seeking reassurance that I’d show up for the finale, and that I’d bring my costume and skates with me. I texted her back, saying I would.
Truth be told, I didn’t make the final decision on whether or not I’d show until the last minute. I figured—what would be the worst that could happen if I didn’t show up? They’d threaten to ruin my career? Already handled by me, thanks. Take back their thirty-grand paycheck? At this point, I was ready to give it back if I didn’t have to skate with Ty and have him embrace me and think for even a second that it was the real thing and he really wanted me in his arms.
If I didn’t show up, they’d just cancel our portion of the number and find a way around it. Or Ty would skate alone.
It was the thought of Ty skating alone, looking foolish, that made me climb in a cab and head back to the studio for the final beating on my ego. After all, I loved Ty. I didn’t want to fuck up this last thing for him. Didn’t want to make him look stupid.
I could suck it up and be a big girl for a few hours. I’d smile for the cameras, do my routine with Ty, and then get on the next flight home and drown my sorrows in celery and organic hummus.
I felt a sense of dread as the taxi pulled into the studio. I had my dress tucked under one arm, the skates in the other, and I headed in to meet my doom. I was immediately trapped by the costume people, who were freaking out that I might have wrinkled my dress overnight or stained it. They swept it out of my hands, and then the makeup artist ran forward. “There you are!”
Just as soon as she did, Ty turned a corner. When he spotted me, he stopped in place. “Zara.”
“Can’t talk, Ty,” I said, letting the makeup artist run me off like a chicken. “Gotta get hair and makeup done!”
I barely heard his muttered curse as the door to the makeup room slammed shut behind us, and I was deposited in my chair.
An hour later, my face was made up to the nines, my lips a perfect red bow, my long black hair had been curled into a bouncy, reasonable facsimile of Baby’s hair from the movie, and I was in my costume and skates, waiting to go out onto the ice and trying desperately not to get panicky. My stomach was tied in knots. There was no sign of Ty. Either he was in hair and makeup himself…or he’d had the same thought I had and bailed out.
The show went to a commercial break and a production assistant grabbed me by the elbow. “You’re coming onto the ice over at the right-hand entrance,” she said. “Follow me.”
“We are?” Guess I should have gone to practice. “Okay then.”
Bewildered, I did as she asked, and I sucked in a breath when I saw Ty standing there in his black shirt and tight black pants, skates on and ready to go behind the curtain.
The assistant held her hand out. “One minute before the number starts, and then you guys are the third pair up.”
I knew that. But I nodded and handed her my blade guards. Then I stepped into place next to Ty.
He held his hand out to me as if nothing was wrong, and I took it automatically. Then, his grip tightened on mine. “Good. Now I have you, and we’re going to talk.”
I sighed. “Do we have to? We’re about to go on.”
“I think there was a misunderstanding between us,” he said slowly. His gaze searched mine. “Why did you leave without saying good bye that morning? I thought I did something wrong. That maybe I’d hurt you somehow. Do you know how fucked up that made me? Especially when you wouldn’t come back?”
I would not feel guilty. Would not. “Sorry,” I muttered. “Let’s blame that on the virginity.” Man, being a virgin had turned out to be a huge pain in the ass. At least I was done with it.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I wasn’t nice to you when you came back. I…just don’t understand.”
I thought for a minute. “Okay.”
That had clearly not been the answer Ty was expecting. As the music swelled and the first couple took the ice to start their routine, he moved closer to me so we could continue talking. “What do you mean, okay?”
“I mean, okay. Thanks for apologizing.”
“You going to tell me what made you avoid me?”
“I’m not sure that I will. I mean, it doesn’t change anything.”
“What do you mean, it doesn’t change anything?” He exploded. “What are you talking about?”
Someone shushed us from nearby.
“Look, can’t we talk about this later?” I held my fist out. “Let’s just do your lucky handshake so we can go out on the ice.”
“No, we can’t talk about this later. We can talk about it
now
.”
“Lucky handshake first,” I told him, wiggling my fist. “We can’t go out on the ice without it.”
He looked down at my fist and then at me. “You do realize I made that shit up, right?”
I gasped. “You what?”
“I made it up. You were freaking out.”
“Oh my god!” I felt sick to my stomach. He’d lied about his mojo? “I can’t believe you! No wonder we lost!”
“SHHHHHHH,” someone in production said.
“It doesn’t matter, Zara,” Ty told me. “It’s not about mojo or juju or luck or anything like that. You have to make your own luck.”
“No, you don’t,” I said worriedly, eyeing the ice. Maybe I’d have time for a quick kneel and kiss before we had to skate out…
Ty grabbed me by the arms. “Fine, you want to make some luck? Here’s a lucky kiss.” And his mouth planted on mine.
I was so startled that I couldn’t say a thing at first. But then his mouth licked at my own and my lips parted to let him into my mouth. I moaned as the kiss became quickly deep and passionate, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.
He broke away from the kiss, though, and gazed down at me. “Now, why won’t you talk to me?”
The next song queued up and began to play. “Get ready to go onto the ice in thirty seconds,” production told us. “You need to be in place.”
“I’m not going until Zara talks to me and tells me why she’s avoiding me,” Ty said calmly.
“I’m not avoiding,” I said anxiously, eyeing the curtain. “We should go out on the ice.”
“Not yet,” Ty said. “I want to hear what the deal is. You cried yesterday. I made you cry. I want to know what I did.”
I gave him a furious look. “Do we really have to go over this right now?”
He put his hands on the sides of my face and kissed me passionately again, silencing my protests. When I was dazed again, he released me. “Tell me what’s going on, Zara.”
“Tell you?” I murmured, staring at his mouth with fascination. It looked dark in the shadows.
“Go out on the ice,” the production assistant hissed again. “Right now!”
“Zara.” Ty crossed his arms over his chest.
Oh god, this was making me twitchy. “It’s not you, all right? It’s me. I got all goofy over you, and I didn’t want it to mess things up. I’ve been falling for you ever since I met you. It’s not your fault I’m a lovesick virgin, okay? You said you wanted no strings attached, so I was giving it to you. I left because leaving without saying goodbye meant no strings attached, at all. That was what was fair.”
His jaw dropped a little.
“And as for coming back?” I rushed ahead, my words tripping all over themselves. I gave a nervous laugh. “Come back and spend two more weeks in your arms? Falling in love even more? It’d destroy me, Ty. I felt like if I were around you too much, I’d just fall even harder. So I went home to try to forget you. Give you your space. But I’m doing a shitty job of it.”
Before Ty could reply, production came forward.
“Go,” the production assistant said and shoved us out the curtain. “Get in place now!” The other song—from
Moulin Rouge
—was winding down, and I grasped Ty’s hand as we skated forward onto the dark half of the ice rink. The others were on the far end of the ice, and their routine would end away from ours. The spotlights would cut to us when our music came on.
We moved out into position, Ty standing behind me and me in front of him. I bit my lip as we stood, waiting, facing forward in the darkness.
I felt him lean in, his lips brushing my ear. “Maybe I changed my mind.”
“What?” My nipples hardened in response to his body so close to mine, and I prayed that my arousal wasn’t visible through my costume.
“I said…maybe I changed my mind. I liked what we had…and I missed it when you were gone. Maybe we could give this another try. And attach a few strings.”
My heart thudded in response. Soared.
Ty…wanted me? Wanted
more
with me?
Really?
The music changed. The entire ice went dark. It was time for us.
Oh
shit
, they had the worst timing ever.
The spotlight shone on me and Ty, and to my surprise, a ripple of laughter fluttered through the audience. Odd. The music keyed up, and I lifted my arm, caressing Ty’s neck, and he began to drag his fingers down my arm, just like in the movie. It sent ripples of pleasure moving through me. Then his hand grasped mine, and he twirled me outward onto the ice.
And I saw why the audience had laughed. My red lipstick was smeared on Ty’s mouth.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
~~ * ~~
Our routine seemed to last forever, but we did everything perfectly, even the lift. The audience cheered wildly when the stage went dark, and then Ty and I skated off. We were done with
Ice Dancing with the Stars
. For good.
As soon as we got to the curtained area, I grabbed the hem of my skirt and began to dab at Ty’s mouth. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. My lipstick was all over you.”
He chuckled. “Well, I guess that’s one way to keep my man-card. Make out with the chicks backstage.”
I laughed at the absurdity of it all, shaking my head at him.
His eyes gleamed at me, and he pulled me close. “Now, you and I need to finish our conversation—”
“Zara Pritchard?”
I turned at the sound of my name, and gasped at the sight of the man standing off to one side backstage. It was my old coach, Edgar Maximoff. He’d grown older—and grayer—since I’d last seen him, but the mustache and the helmet of thick hair were impossible to miss.
“Edgar! Oh my god. What are you doing here?” I pulled away from Ty’s arms and went to hug my old coach.
“I’m here to see you,” he told me, his accent thick.
…
I frowned. “How did you know I was here?”
He chuckled. “You are on TV, Zara.”
Oh. Duh. “I know. I mean…why?” Why after all these years would he look me up? He’d fired me when I’d walked off the ice during the Olympics.
“I got a tip from an old friend of mine—Penelope Marks.”
I made a face at the hated name.
He waved a hand at me. “I know, I know. It is all an act for the show. She is actually a big fan of yours.”
I gave him a puzzled look. “She is?”
“Yes. She is the one that called me and sent me DVDs of your performances here. You fired your choreographer?”
“Two of the performances were mine,” I admitted.
“They were brilliant.” He beamed at me, clearly proud. “I saw an artistic spark in you long ago, but it was buried under all of your, ahem…”
“Brattiness?” I filled in. “You can say it. It won’t hurt my feelings.”
“Youthful exuberance,” he corrected, and smiled. He held a business card out to me. “I want you to call me. I am the production manager of an ice show in Las Vegas at one of the arenas, and I’m looking for a head choreographer with a sense of style and an idea of doing something different. Someone that wants to take risks but knows what they’re doing.”
I clutched the card against me. “I…okay. I’ll call you. Of course I will.” Shoot, I’d call him as soon as we left here. A job in Vegas? With one of the big, glitzy shows? Choreographing? It’d be a dream come true. And Penelope Marks had set it up?
I peered around, looking for cameras. Was this sincere or was this some sort of weird TV set-up? But no one was around except Edgar.
This was real.
“Good. Good. You call me.” He patted my shoulder. “Now go see your young man. He looks as if he wants to carry you away from me.”
I glanced over my shoulder where Ty lurked in the background. Sure enough, he was pacing, and he hadn’t even bothered to put the blade guards on his skates, which meant he was going to destroy them. And it was clear he didn’t care. I gave Edgar another quick hug and a promise to call, and then raced back over to Ty.
“Did you hear that?” I said excitedly. “A job in Vegas!”
His mouth curved into a smile. “Maybe there’s something to this mojo shit after all. I’m in Vegas too, remember?”
I did. My heart thudded loudly in my chest at the reminder, and I gazed up at him. “So what were you saying to me on the ice?”
He glanced around, then spotted a door nearby—the makeup room. Grabbing my hand, he dragged me there and then shut the door and locked it. We were the only ones in there.
Ty returned to my side, and then pulled me into his arms. “I was saying…maybe we give this a go after all. Maybe we try with strings attached.”
“Really?” I could scarcely dare to hope.
“Seems like the juju has it all worked out for us,” he said, his mouth curving into a smile. “You’ll be in Vegas, I’ll be in Vegas, you like kissing me, I like kissing you…”
It was definitely lucky that we’d both be in Vegas. But somehow, throwing luck in there made me…sad. “I thought we were supposed to make our own luck.”
“We should. I’m just basically saying anything that will convince you to not run away from me again.” Ty’s hands locked at my waist. “I’m kind of wild about you. You’re the only reason I didn’t quit after day two. You know that, right?”
“I didn’t,” I admitted. “Although I did wonder why a big macho guy like you was into ice skating.”
“They paired me up with this hot little mouthy chick,” he murmured, leaning in until our noses pressed together. Then his rubbed against mine. “How could I resist?”
“Ty…I’m crazy about you,” I admitted.
“Not half as crazy as I am about you.”
“Good,” I breathed. “We can be crazy together.”
His big hands hauled me up against him, cupping my ass. “Want to be crazy together in a makeup room?”
“Absolutely.” My hands curled into the collar of his shirt, and I pulled his mouth down on my own. His hips pushed between my legs, and I wrapped mine around him, careful of my skate blades.
His lips swept over mine, and our mouths melded in a scorching pairing. My tongue flicked against his even as his hand slid up my skirt, searching out my panties. He cursed when he found them sewn into my dress. “Damn it. These fucking costumes.”
“I don’t know,” I told him in a throaty voice. “I kind of dig yours.” My hand gripped his ass and I squeezed.
“You’re not giving this dress back,” he warned me.
“I’m not?”
“Nope,” he said, and grasped the crotch of my panties and ripped at the fabric.
I gasped at the loud, tearing noise the fabric made, but for some reason, that only turned me on more. “Well, you’re not giving yours back either,” I told him. “I’m going to have you dress up as Johnny Castle for me all the time.”
“Who?”
“
Dirty Dancing
?”
“Never saw it.” He gave me a roguish look. “But I have to say, I like the theme.” His fingers slid under the ripped fabric and caressed my skin. “God, are you always this wet?”
“Only when I’m around you,” I whispered.
“Then I’m going to have to keep you around me all the time, aren’t I?” His mouth fastened on mine, hot and delicious, even as he began to unbuckle the belt on his pants.
My fingers went to the fastenings, trying to help, but I just got in the way. I settled for rubbing the length of his cock through his pants. “I love you, Ty,” I told him desperately.
“Love you too, Zara.” He kissed me again, and then he undid his pants. Before he let them slide to the ground, he pulled a small packet out of one trouser pocket—a condom.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Someone was hoping to get lucky.”
“We’re making our own luck, remember?” He dropped his trousers to his ankles, and they pooled around his skates.
I remembered. My hands stroked his chest, touching and petting him all over as he pushed down his boxer briefs and rolled the condom on. I couldn’t stop touching him. This was like a dream. Ty—my Ty—was about to go deep inside me, and we were going to ride off into the sunset together.
Well, more like ride off into Vegas together, but close enough.
Ty kissed me again, his fingers grazing my hard nipples through the chiffon of my flowing pink gown. His cock slicked over my pussy, and I moaned at the sensation of the head sliding through the lips of my sex. Then, he was pushing inside me.
I sucked in a breath, clinging to Ty. It was still tighter than I’d expected, but a moment later, the burn was gone. I pressed my mouth to his throat, licking and sucking at the skin there as he began to pound slowly, rhythmically into me.
I didn’t last long. I didn’t need to. Just knowing Ty was in my arms and wanted to be with me aroused me to heck and back. His thumb on my clit as he pounded into me? That certainly didn’t hurt matters. Ty came a few moments later, and he collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the counter of the makeup station I currently sat on. I probably had rouge and fake lashes plastered to the backside of my skirt. My skates were locked behind his back, still, and I was pretty sure that Ty’s pants were still around his ankles. We probably looked like a mess.
Didn’t care. Utter contentment swept over me.
Someone knocked at the door, jolting us out of our reverie. As one, we both looked over at the locked door.
“Shit,” Ty said. “I hope they don’t want us out on stage again.”
I giggled hysterically against his neck because that thought was horrifying and hilarious all at once. And it didn’t matter, now that the Ty and Zara team were taking their show on the road.
~~ * ~~
It turned out they did not want us back on stage, after all. Which was good, considering we looked like a disaster by the time we cleaned up enough to let someone into the room.
The next morning, I woke up, tucked against Ty’s side in bed. My phone was vibrating on a nearby nightstand, and I picked it up, squinting at the screen. Naomi had sent me a text with a link in it, and I clicked on it, curious.
MediaWeek magazine had run an article overnight. The headline was: EMMA RAWLEY WINS THE TROPHY, BUT SHE’S NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NAILS IT. The subtitle was: MMA LADIES’ MAN TY RANDALL IS HOT ON THE ICE…IN MORE THAN ONE WAY. And there was a gigantic picture of me leaning back against Ty in our signature
Dirty Dancing
pose. My nipples were sticking out against my dress, and I was clearly aroused. My lipstick was smeared on my mouth…and on my partner’s.
I figured Ty’s man-card was pretty safe after all. It looked to all the world that he’d gone on the show and nailed his partner. Total stud move. I tossed the phone on the nightstand again and curled back up against Ty’s side.
“Mmm.” He reached for me, pulling me against him. “Something wrong?”
“Nothing at all,” I told him sleepily. “Go back to bed.”
“Only if you promise to stay.” He tightened his grip around me.
I slid my hands against his warm chest. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
~~ * ~~
The End
