Acting Witchy (Witch Hunters) (4 page)

Chapter Six

Sean stood outside of Mystique’s door, all too certain of the unwelcome reception he was about to receive. He was a confident guy. How could he not be? He’d been told from the age of sixteen that he was sexy, hot, or gorgeous. The film industry had only reinforced his confidence in his looks.

Mystique’s behavior wasn’t a blow to his ego. He knew she was attracted to him. That didn’t mean that her rejection didn’t hurt.

He could hear the television playing inside the room. At his knock it was muted. She opened the door in a white tank top and white yoga pants. She’d braided her hair into one thick plait at the base of her head. Her face was completely devoid of makeup. He was awed by her beauty. Her lips were naturally pink and plump. He was instantly aroused and he barely contained his groan as she braced her hand on the door frame.

He held up two fragrant bags of food. They smelled of fries. “I bought you dinner. I hope you haven’t already eaten.”

Her dark eyes flashed to the fast food and then back to his face. A smile softened her features before she schooled her expression to be carefully blank. At least, he hoped it was a smile. “I said no.”

“You need to eat.”

“And I’ll do so on my own.” She started to close the door.

He put his hand in the frame. “This is work related.”

“How so?”

“We need to spend more time together, get comfortable with each other. How are we supposed to portray lovers if you stiffen up whenever I get near you?”

“I don’t—”

“You do. So far, no one’s said anything, but it’s going to become obvious. I’m not a beast.”

“I know you’re not.” It wasn’t a ringing endorsement of his character and she didn’t say more.

He arched a brow. “Invite me in.” She flinched and moved aside. He wet his lips. “Invite me in,” he said again. He couldn’t enter without an invitation.

She sighed and the sound was full of exasperation and frustration. “Come in.” It was the most grudging invitation he’d ever received. That didn’t matter. He entered.

He handed her one of the bags. “I didn’t bring drinks.”

“I have bottled water.” She led the way to the couch and placed the bag on the glass-topped coffee table. The ice bucket sat on the surface. Four bottles of water rested inside. She sat on the floor and handed him a bottle. “Neva keeps me well hydrated. Thanks for loaning her to me by the way.”

He took the water and sat next to her. “You’re welcome. I’m glad that’s working out for the both of you. She says having you as a boss is a breeze.” He grinned. “Of course, she thinks I’m a pain in the ass.”

She shrugged and dug into her bag. “Is she your only personal assistant?”

He nodded. “I used to have two, but the other one bailed on me to marry the love of his life. She moved to Paris and for some reason, he wanted to follow.”

“You don’t believe in love?”

He removed his burger and fries from his bag. “Do you want my patented answer or the truth?”

“The truth,” she said as though he should have known that. And indeed, he did. He knew she wasn’t the sort that wanted platitudes.

“I believe in love. I’ve never been in love. And I don’t know if I ever will. You meet a lot of attractive packages in this business. But genuine beauty, inside and out, is hard to find. I admit I’ve taken advantage of some of the shallow people who’ve come my way wanting to use my success. When our relationships were over, we walked away mutually satisfied. How about you? Do you believe in love?” An awful possibility occurred to him. “Are you in a relationship?”

“I believe in love.” She hesitated and he knew she contemplated lying to him. “I’m single.”

They ate in silence for a while. Finally, he asked, “Why don’t you like me?”

Her lovely eyes narrowed. They were so dark and contrasted sharply with her pale creamy skin. “Are we in kindergarten?” She drank from her water bottle, leaving an appealing sheen of moisture on her full lips. His cock jumped. He’d been hard since he walked through the door. Never had a woman done so little and made him so horny.

“Come on. It’s killing me.”

She shrugged, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Sometimes personalities just don’t click.”

“That’s bullshit. You didn’t like me before we met. And it’s frustrating as hell since I like you.”

She inhaled sharply. “You don’t know me. You just want to…”

He grinned. “I want to what?”

“Let’s not play games, Sean. It’s obvious you’re pursuing me for sex. I’ve done what you wanted. I’m in your film. It stops there.”

She stood. He caught her hand when she would have walked away. “I could let it go at that if I didn’t know you wanted me as much as I want you.”

“You’re delusional. I feel nothing for you.”

“God, your mouth is so sexy. Even when it’s spewing lies.”

She wet her lips and he groaned. “Let me go.”

Ignoring her, he tugged until she was on her knees before him. His eyes dropped to the exposed curves of her breast. He couldn’t help it. “Prove it to me,” he challenged, his gaze meeting hers. “Prove you don’t want me.”

“No thanks. I have nothing to prove to you.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to deal with me asking you out every chance I get.”

“The answer will always be no.”

He arched a brow. “You didn’t let me finish. I’ll keep hounding you to do movies with me, spend time with me, and more.” He looked at her breasts again, this time letting his gaze linger. “Hitting on you. And all the while, I’ll believe that it’s what you want since you can’t or won’t prove otherwise.”

“Fine! How do I prove to you the level of apathy I feel for you?”

“Let me kiss you.”

“No.”

“You can’t handle one kiss?”

“What will one kiss prove?”

“That you’re unmoved by me. If my kiss has no effect on you, then I’ll know.”

“Are you forgetting that we’ve kissed before?”

“No. And I’m betting you haven’t forgotten either. That kiss has haunted me,” he said truthfully. The remembrance of her lips beneath his had fueled many fantasies. But that was over a month ago. He needed more.

“How will you tell if it’s affected me?”

“You’ll tell me.” She was going to agree. His heart thumped with the possibility. “So what do you say?”

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “All right. One kiss. That’s it. You keep your hands to yourself.”

“I can’t kiss you if I can’t hold you.” He thought quickly. “Sit on my lap. I’ll keep my hands on the floor.”

Her irritation was palatable. “Fine. Let’s just get it over with.” She waited for him to press his hands palm down onto the floor before straddling him. She shot him a glare as she came into contact with the thick bar of his erection. She adjusted herself so that she was no longer covering his cock.

“Sorry. Damn, no I’m not. You affect me that way.” He lifted his mouth to hers. She didn’t pull away but made no attempt to meet him halfway. “By the way,” he whispered, “I plan to use my tongue.” His lips touched hers and as with the last time, he felt an immediate electric connection with her. He tilted his head and painted the seam of her lips with his tongue. She denied him entry. He increased his pressure and tried again. He groaned as she continued to resist. “God, Myst, open to me,” he muttered against her lips. It was a demand, not a plea. His voice was thick with lust and he couldn’t control it. She brought out the predator in him.

She obeyed and he thrust his tongue inside to taste her. She moaned and fitted her mouth more closely with his. The sound of her pleasure made him want to come in his pants. He arched his hips and she slid forward, slamming into contact with his throbbing dick. He swallowed her cry. He hoped it was pleasure and not shock that caused her to make that sound.

His tongue was wild in her mouth. He wanted to taste every inch of her. He wanted to strip her bare, suck her nipples, lick her sweet pussy. Her hands gripped his shoulders and she moved on him, dry humping him. God, he wanted to fuck her, drive his cock as deep into her tight pussy as possible.

He dug his hands into the carpeting to keep his promise not to touch her. The kiss went on and on. The room was filled with the sounds of their heightened breathing and their moans. He knew he had to call a stop to this soon. He was going to come in his pants. He pulled back and she followed him, her hands cupping his cheeks.

Finally, he ripped his mouth away. “Shit,” he growled. “Let me fuck you.”

She reacted as though he’d slapped her, jerking and dropping her hands from his face. “N-no.”

He dropped his head onto the seat of the couch. He knew he could convince her but she would regret it once the passion of the moment had cooled. “You have to be the most frustrating woman I’ve ever met.” She moved. He gripped her thighs. “No.” He pinned her with his gaze. “Now tell me, did you like my kiss?” Her lips were swollen and red from the intensity of their make out session. “Did it make you hot?”

“Let me go and I’ll answer you.”

“So you can lie about it?”

“No, because I want off of you.”

He grinned. “You seemed to enjoy it a moment ago. Why can’t you just admit it?”

“Fuck you.”

He laughed. “Then we’re in agreement.” She made a move to stand and he grabbed her small waist. “Mystique, you
want
me. Your breathing is accelerated. Your nipples are hard. And I’ll bet a year’s salary that your pussy is wet.”

“You’re infuriatingly full of yourself.” She shoved at his shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed a becoming pink. He didn’t know if it was embarrassment or anger heightening her color. Whatever the reason, she was anything but apathetic towards him.

“That must be infuriating to you since you want to be full of me.” She gave a disgusted cry and struggled to free herself. “Stop wriggling like that or I might forget my good intentions and lay you out on the floor and give you the fucking both of us need.” She stilled so fast it was comical. “Say it. Admit you want me.”

    “Never,” she said through gritted teeth. “I don’t want you. Your kissing is acceptable but nothing special. I felt
nothing
. You’ve had your kiss and you’ve had your answer. Now you can leave.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “Your pussy’s not wet for me?”

“No.”

“Liar.” He slid his hand beneath the waistband of her pants and her panties. She gasped as he covered her mound. He groaned. “Your panties are soaked.” He maneuvered his fingers around the triangle of cloth and rubbed her plump engorged clit. She bit her lip. He circled the moist flesh, flicking it with his finger. “Want me to stop?”

She whimpered. “Sean, please….”

“God, I like the sound of my name on your lips. Want to hear it when I’m buried to the hilt in this sweet pussy.” He thrust two fingers inside her welcoming cunt and just like that she climaxed, her hips jerking. She clung to his shoulders, moaning his name and cursing at the same time. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. When she’d calmed, he removed his fingers and licked them clean as she watched. She was sweet and tangy and he wanted to taste her from the source.

She climbed off him slowly. “I think you should go now.”

He’d pushed her enough for tonight. He nodded and stood. At the door he turned back to look at her. She was staring off into space. “My room is next door if you need me.” She closed her eyes at his words.

He entered his hotel suite. His cock was killing him. He struggled to lower his zipper and took himself in his hand. Leaning against the door, he stroked his rigid length, wishing he were buried in Mystique. He recalled her taste, the sight of her tight nipples pressed against her shirt, the feel of the tight clasp of her cunt. He exploded, hot cum flowing over his fingers as he groaned Mystique’s name.

“Shit,” he muttered. He hadn’t masturbated this much since he’d been a teen. He made his way to the shower to clean himself.

Chapter Seven

Mystique shivered. She’d known letting him in was a bad idea. His asking for permission to enter only reinforced what she knew about him. As a witch, he couldn’t have entered without her invite.

But she’d realized the truth of his words. If she didn’t learn to loosen up around him, they were going to have to reshoot all of their scenes. She didn’t want that. Soon they would be shooting one of the love scenes. After tonight, she hated to think what would happen when they did.

She couldn’t believe how horribly wrong this evening had gone. He was a witch, damn it. She knew better than most what a mistake cavorting with their kind could be. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and rocked back and forth. What to do? She’d never been so turned on in her life. They hadn’t even begun shooting the scenes she dreaded most. How would she be able to resist him for months?

She needed advice. There was only one place to turn. Only one person she knew of would know how to break the spell he had over her.

Biting her lip, she picked up her phone and dialed her mother.

“This is Meadow Gray. How may I help you?”

“Meadow, this is Mystique.”

There was a long pause. “Yes. I assume it’s important for you to call.”

She swallowed. Their relationship was strained at best. “That wasn’t my choice.”

“Let’s not rehash the past. What has you calling?”

“I’m starring in a movie with a witch.”

“Bring him to me,” Meadow said eagerly.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not that simple. He’s famous.”

“That doesn’t matter to me!”

“Meadow, listen!” She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I’ve had dreams about him,” she said slowly. “I think I may be his…soul mate.” She closed her eyes for the angry barrage of words sure to follow her declaration.

Silence greeted her. “Then give in to him.”

“What? That’s your solution? Tie myself to him?” She began to pace.

“No. I suggest that you purge yourself of your feelings for him. You think you’re his one. Maybe you are. Most likely you are not. The best way to rid yourself of him is to sleep with him.”

“You’re letting your experience color your advice.”

“You want him. My solution is best. You both get what you want and go your separate ways.”

Mystique noticed that her mother’s plan didn’t take her feelings into account. She dare not ask what would happen if she fell in love with a witch. Meadow wouldn’t see that as a possibility. “Thanks for your help,” she said, disconnecting the call. “I don’t know why I bother,” she muttered.

****

Mystique paced her trailer, the hair stylist following her around trying to do her hair. She’d sat down five times already but found herself bounding out of her seat within minutes. Today they were shooting the first love scene. Nerves had her stomach so tied in knots that she hadn’t been able to eat all day.

“Please, miss, if you could sit for two minutes, I’ll be done.”

“Sorry,” she murmured to Janelle. She sat and gripped the arms of her chair to keep herself in it. She bit her lip. Janelle was as good as her word, finishing up in less than the promised two minutes. Her hair had been flat ironed and fell in a shiny curtain around her shoulders. “Thank you. Sorry I was such an ordeal today.”

Janelle grinned, showing her dimples. “It’s okay. I’d be nervous too if I was getting my freak on with Sean Savage.”

She blanched. The makeup artist was next. Jeffrey was in a huff that he’d had to wait so long and made no attempt to hide it. She apologized but it didn’t seem to soften him up any. She sighed and concentrated on not fidgeting.

Jeffrey leaned back to survey his work when he was done. “Damn, I’m good.” He picked up his supplies. “Knock ‘em dead. I’ll be around if you need a touch up.”

****

The scene called for him to back her into a wall and kiss her. Only this movie was going to be
lucky to be
rated R from the way he kept going at h
er. H
e kept grabbing her ass and grinding his blatant erection right into her.
Steven
had given up on giving him directions as to how to hold her and kiss her.
They had been filming for some time to get the kiss from various angles. This wasn’t her first onscreen kiss, but it was certainly the first time it had felt so real. Even with an audience, Sean made her feel like it was only the two of them in the room.

She was going up in flames as he ate at her mouth. Her sex was molten and dripping for him. Occasionally, he would forget and penetrate her with his tongue. She barely contained her moans.

Sean undressed her several times. They took breaks to fix her hair and makeup and to follow them to the bedroom. In this scene, it was her home so the room was frilly and full of white lace. The beach house was rented. All the furnishings were props that they had brought in for filming.

She felt like a punch drunk boxer in a daze as she situated herself in bed and watched Sean strip in front of her. He had no issues with onscreen nudity. His backside was to the camera. He was covered in the front for her modesty.

In the film all the action would be continuous. In reality, she was carefully staged to look as though she were bare. Her makeup was retouched. Lighting checks were performed.

For a change, Sean wasn’t grinning as he covered her and slid between her thighs. There were fewer people onset. The sizzle between the two of them was tangible. He held himself above her until the cameras started rolling. He fitted himself to her, and as he’d warned her, he was as hard as steel. The sheets were arranged so that the sides of their hips were visible. She wore a high thong with ties on the sides. It was pulled carefully to the side so that her mound was protected as he began to move between her legs. Her fingers dug into his muscled shoulders. It was all she could do not to toss her head back and moan as he rode her. She bit her lip to control herself. Sound was not necessary for this scene as music would play over it. Moviegoers would be treated to perhaps a three to five minute clip of their actions. She felt like she’d been beneath Sean for hours.

He buried his face in her neck. “I want you so bad,” he groaned. “This is torture. I’m going to explode.” Unable to speak, she threaded her fingers through his soft black curls. “Tell me that you want me.”

“Cut!” Steven clapped his hands. “Great work, kids. I think we’ve got enough.”

“Shit,” Sean muttered. “I don’t think I can move.”

“Roll over,” she said, relieved Steven had called a halt to their scene. She pushed at Sean’s shoulders. “We’re not alone,” she hissed when he didn’t move right away.

“How do you do it?” He shifted, bunching the sheet about his waist so that his erection was not visible.

“Do what?” She tied her thong and pulled up the straps of the tank she wore. Her robe was on the floor beside the bed. She shrugged into it.

“How do you turn it off so quick?”

She swallowed. “Do you ever quit?” Her gaze travelled over his bare torso, taking in his sculpted arms, hard pectoral muscles and ripped abs before skittering away.

“I would if I truly thought you didn’t want this as much as me.”

“Has it occurred to you that even
if
I wanted you, I might not want to act on it?” When he didn’t answer, she left to get dressed. She looked forward to a long cool shower once she got back to the hotel.