Acting Witchy (Witch Hunters)
Page 1
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2012 Thayer King
ISBN: 978-1-927368-89-3
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: Marie Medina
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
To my husband, my family and my friends, thank you for all your encouragement and support. I want to especially thank the fans of my work who inspire me to continue writing.
ACTING WITCHY
Witch Hunters, 1
Thayer King
Copyright © 2012
Chapter One
“Let’s put the rumors to rest. Is there an ongoing feud between you and fellow actor Sean Savage?”
Mystique twisted her hands in her lap, hoping no one would notice, even as she gave the reporter a completely false smile. Her cheeks were stiff as she forced the edges of her generous mouth to curl upward. “Of course not. We’ve never even met.”
“Yet you’ve turned down roles in movies with him time and time again. Rumor has it that the moment you hear his name on the cast list, you immediately reject a script.”
“That’s not true.”
“In the blockbuster Thyme Bomb, you dropped out after finding out he was playing the lead.”
Mystique wet her lips. “There was a scheduling conflict. I was already contractually obligated to do another film. That project has been delayed due to monetary issues, but I expect it will be completed someday.”
The reporter’s smile was all teeth. He didn’t believe her for one second. Mystique couldn’t blame him. She’d been acting since college, but she still didn’t have a knack for lying. The fact that she was twisting her fingers so severely that she was in danger of breaking them wasn’t helping. She forced herself to relax with an effort. She took a breath. “I look forward to working with him in the future.”
The reporter did his little end of interview spiel. She released a sigh as the camera and lights were turned off. An assistant quickly moved in to remove the small microphone clipped to her blouse. Mystique stood to shake the reporter’s hand and thank him for the interview. His hand tightened over hers when she would have pulled back. “So, what is the real reason you won’t do a movie with him? Is it the playboy persona?”
Mystique frowned. “Truly, there is no feud. I’ve never met him” And she never wanted to.
“You’ve got a bit of a rep yourself as a religious...well, conservative. You mean to tell me you’re not purposely avoiding him?”
“This interview is over,” Marielle Chase, her agent and manager, cut in smoothly, severing the handshake. Marielle was all gray-haired Southern charm, but it was a mistake to underestimate her. Under her pastel suits and floral perfume, beat the heart of a shrewd businesswoman. “Mystique, you’ve got to get going.”
Mystique almost wilted in relief as she led her away. “Thanks,” she whispered.
Marielle’s lips pursed. “He’s a jerk, but he’s not stupid. I told you this would happen.”
Mystique nodded. She’d never thought anyone would notice that she’d never done a movie with Sean Savage. With so many stars available, no one should have noticed. But in recent years, she’d become more popular even though she mainly took smaller supporting roles. She was selective about which films she agreed to and that had led to great success. It was only natural that people would expect her to take larger roles and expect her to have more famous co-stars. The Sean Savage rumor never would have emerged if it hadn’t been for the party-loving, philandering Mr. Savage himself.
Savage was multi-talented. Not only did he act, he’d also written and produced a growing number of wildly successful films. He’d publicly declared that he wanted to work with her and had several ideas in the offing that he hoped she might like. He’d been very complimentary of her talents in the interview. Bastard! She’d rejected each and every idea that had come to her with his name attached.
Mystique let Marielle lead her out to the limousine they’d rented for the day. “What next?”
“An early lunch with me. We need to have a serious talk before this whole Savage situation gets out of hand.”
Mystique closed her eyes and leaned her head against the window. The cool pane of glass was refreshing.
“Mystique, this cannot go on. The situation is only going to get worse. He’s not the type to let something like this, a virtual snub, drop. And he’s simply too influential and powerful a star for you to snub him at this point in your career. We simply cannot afford it.”
Mystique had heard all of this before. She bit her lip in frustration. How could she explain her aversion to the gorgeous actor without being committed to an insane asylum? The truth was not an option. It was true that she’d never met Sean Savage. However, put quite simply, she was terrified of him. She had her reasons. Reasons she could never reveal.
Lying about it would never work. Hand her a script and she could become whatever character she was asked to play. She immersed herself in the role and the words. But as herself, she had never been able to lie with conviction. Whenever she tried, she couldn’t make eye contact, she started sweating, and she began to ring her hands.
Over lunch Marielle outlined several possible methods they could employ to get the rumors to die. She didn’t agree to Mystique’s idea of just letting time handle it. Mystique was sure people would grow bored of hearing about the “feud” without any fuel for the fire. Marielle was just as certain that Sean Savage would create enough fuel on his own. “Why not take a small part in a movie with him? That should kill the rumors. Maybe something that would only take a day or two to shoot? Let’s go back over the films you’ve rejected.”
“No,” Mystique whispered, almost in tears. “Please, I can’t.”
Marielle sighed. “Mystique, please, tell me what’s going on so that I can help. You’ve never met him. Why this aversion?”
She shook her head, mutely. The thought of even being in the same room with him sent shivers of fear up her spine. She doubted he’d let an opportunity such as her working in the same movie with him go by without introducing himself. And that would be intolerable. Tears threatened to ruin her makeup and she excused herself. Fortunately, the restaurant was not overly crowded at this early hour so there weren’t many people around to notice her distress.
Amanda, the makeup girl at the morning interview show, had raved over Mystique’s complexion and skin tone. Thankfully, Amanda had gone light on the cosmetics, otherwise, after her crying jag, she would have looked like a wet cat. She dried her eyes but didn’t bother reapplying the eyeliner. Mascara was enough. She’d just taken her lipstick out of her purse when she heard a moan issuing from one of the stalls.
Mystique frowned. She’d thought she was alone. She hoped no one was sick. She leaned over to peer under the stalls just as another louder moan sounded. Spotting two pairs of feet in the stall, her lips tightened in disapproval. One set of high-heeled crimson pumps faced forward while a pair of expensive men’s leather shoes faced the rear of the stall. She washed her hands hurriedly with no care for the noise she was making. She wasn’t the one committing a misdemeanor in a public restroom!
There was a giggle and soon the couple was exiting the stall. Mystique dried her hands and push
ed open the door, hoping to avoid the oncoming embarrassing confrontation.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the elusive Mystique Gray,” said the man, amused and delighted.
She stiffened but forced herself turn toward the deep voice that she knew so well. She shivered. Sean Savage was just as handsome in person as he was on screen and even more overwhelming. He was well over six feet tall with thick black curls and large electric blue eyes framed by lush raven lashes. His features were the epitome of masculine beauty, all strong angles and a sensual full mouth that was hard to ignore. In his teen years, he’d been a model. He was currently the spokesperson for several colognes and a popular line of men’s clothing. The well-tailored midnight blue suit he currently wore draped his large frame lovingly. He radiated power and sexuality.
And to her, and a few select others, his aura cracked and declared that he was other.
He advanced on her, hand outstretched while his cohort straightened her dress and fluffed her blonde hair. Mystique stared at his hand and made no move to take it. She stood her ground but she would not touch him. Besides, she didn’t know where that hand had been and she didn’t want to find out. She nodded to him. “Mr. Savage.”
He dropped his hand with a grin. His lips were reddened from the woman’s lipstick. “So at last we meet. But who would have guessed it would be in a lady’s room?”
“Indeed.”
He tilted his head to the side at her cool manner. His companion wrapped her arm around his waist, burrowing her hands into his jacket. He absently kissed the top of her head. “So have you given any thought to any of the proposals I sent your way?”
“I’m really busy right now, and I’m not looking at any new projects.”
He arched a brow. His bright eyes and dark hair were a devastating combination. “Really? Seems a funny way to run a career. You might want to have a talk with your agent.”
“My agent is here with me today.” She took a deep breath. She was clutching her purse to her chest. She couldn’t seem to make herself let go, so she said in a rush, “I assure you I make the final decisions. I just don’t have the time...for your projects.”
His eyes narrowed. “Angel, could you leave us for a moment?” Angel glared at her but left immediately.
Suddenly alone with him, Mystique retreated a step. “I really must—”
He came closer. “Did I do something to offend you?” He examined her briefly, his gaze sweeping her from head to toe. “We’ve never met before. I wouldn’t forget you. Did I date one of your friends and not call her back?”
“No.”
“But I’ve offended you in some way? The whole partying, sex thing, that offends you, right? I’m not the only one. Why take it out on me?”
“That’s not it.”
He frowned, obviously trying to decide whether or not to accept her answer. “I really do think you’re talented.” Finally, he smiled. It was a simple curl of his perfect lips yet it had charmed millions. But not her. “And you know what? You’re going to do a movie with me.”
“You can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do.”
“Yeah? Watch me. I always get what I want. Always.” He winked and pushed out of the ladies’ room. Another patron gaped at him as she entered. Mystique couldn’t tell if it was because of the surprise of running into a man in the women’s bathroom or because of who that man was.
She was trembling from the aftershock of their confrontation. She locked her knees and held on to the countertop. This was her worse nightmare. Dear God, she’d really hoped to put all of this behind her when she’d left the mountains of North Carolina. She’d tried to avoid him for this very reason. Now, the question was, what was she going to do about it?
Looking into his electric eyes, she knew he was exactly what she’d suspected.
Sean Savage was a witch.
****
Mystique’s own cries awakened her. Wicked spasms gripped her stomach and pussy. Her nipples were as hard as rocks. Her body was satisfied, but the clawing hunger for more made her feel on edge and out of control. She desperately needed to be filled.
She struggled to a sitting position in bed and turned on the bedside light. She’d ruined her panties. They were completely soaked. With a whimper she slid out of bed. The only thing that would help now was a cool bath. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take.
She splashed water on her heated face while the tub filled. Her cheeks were flushed and her full pink lips trembled. Dark chocolate eyes stared back at her from an otherwise pale face. She had inherited her skin tone from her Irish father and near obsidian eyes and high cheek bones from her African American mother. Somewhere in her mother’s not too distant past was a Native American relative. She’d bound her long jet curls in a braid that trailed between her shoulder blades.
“Damn you, Sean Savage,” she whispered to her distraught reflection. It never occurred to her for a moment that he wasn’t behind this. He might not be aware of what he was doing, but he was doing it just the same.
The nightmares had plagued her for the last six months. They weren’t all the same, but in each dream she was roughly fucked by none other than Sean Savage. What was worse, she couldn’t wake herself until the ravishment was complete. She’d never had dreams like that before. She’d always been able to wake herself. It was almost as though she were drugged. The nocturnal visions were so vivid that initially she really thought she was being fucked.
In those first days of the dreams, she’d had a boyfriend. When Derek had been wakened by her moans, he’d tried unsuccessfully to wake her from the nightmare. She’d been too embarrassed and too ashamed to tell him that she’d been having erotic dreams about another man. It felt too much like cheating, though she couldn’t control the visions. The nightmares had eventually driven a wedge between them. She’d stopped spending nights with Derek, not wanting to have to explain the sleep orgasms that were stronger than any he was capable of giving her. Within a few weeks, she’d seen Derek out on a romantic date with another woman. She’d been having a business dinner with Marielle and her husband and spied her boyfriend having a candlelit dinner in the corner with an up and coming blues singer. When their eyes met across the room, he’d appeared stunned. He half rose from his seat before sitting again.
She liked to think that she handled the situation better than Derek. She’d sent him and his date a bottle of wine. She hadn’t heard from him since. But she supposed no explanation was really needed.
She slipped into the tub of cool water with a hiss. She’d been on a few meaningless dates since the breakup, but she had only agreed to the outings so that people didn’t think she was pining away for Derek. Marielle had arranged most of them. The dates had gone nowhere but they had proved to be good publicity.
Tonight’s dream was brought on by the confrontation this afternoon in the restaurant. In her nightmare, they had been in a club. Sean was dancing with Angel. And then he spotted her sitting alone at a table nursing a glass of wine. He crossed to her, leaving a pouting girlfriend behind. He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor. The song was slow. Her dress was a slinky silver number that clung to her body and clearly displayed her beaded nipples. She wasn’t wearing undergarments of any kind. Sean pulled her to him and pressed his thigh between hers so that she practically rode him. His hands cupped her bottom, encouraging her to rub herself against his thick erection. This wasn’t dancing. It was foreplay. The tension built swiftly between them. The song hadn’t ended before he maneuvered her to the hallway leading to the bathrooms. The restroom was empty but the door didn’t have a lock. He led her to one of the stalls and spun her around. The sound of his zipper being lowered echoed off the cinder block walls. He entered her in one powerful thrust.
Mystique covered her face with her shaking hands. She pressed chilled fingers to her flushed cheeks, willing the steamy images to subside. What was she going to do? She couldn’t go on like this much longer. She was l
osing sleep.
Confronting him would only make it worse. If he was unaware of what he was doing, it was so much better than if he actually knew of the power he wielded over her.
She could ask her mother or her grandmother for advice, but she was reluctant to do so. Their solutions were always final and not in the least bit subtle.
Chapter Two
Lack of subtlety was apparently a trait that Sean shared with her relatives, Mystique thought as she turned off her television. She’d been enjoying her morning cup of coffee, doctored with vanilla and topped with whipped cream, when she decided to watch the morning news. Sean was being interviewed about his last movie, a sci-fi action affair that she’d secretly wanted to see. The trailers for it had been mind-blowing. The special effects and the action sequences were awesome. Even better, early reviews raved about the savvy plot. Sean had sent her the script a year ago. It went into her trash pile unopened. When asked what he was doing next, Sean’s answer made her hands shake so badly, she had to put down her coffee.
He turned to the camera and gave his trademark sexy grin. “I’m putting filming and acting on hold for a special campaign. I am going to concentrate all my energies on getting Mystique Gray to do a movie with me.”
The reporter, Matthew Spaulding, the same little weasel who had interviewed her the day before, seemed stunned but inordinately pleased with this scoop. “Perhaps you saw our segment with Miss Gray yesterday? She denies any feud. Are you suggesting otherwise?”
“Oh, there’s no feud, but I’ve yet to properly entice Miss Gray to work with me. I’ve been remiss in my seduction of her, but believe me I intend to give her my full attention from now on.”
“Bastard,” she muttered. If only silencing him in real life were as simple as turning off her television. Her breath came out in angry little pants. Even if her phone had not played the signature ringtone of Appalachian Spring, Mystique would have known it was Marielle on the other end of the line. “Yes, Marielle, I saw it,” she said upon answering.