Playing with Passion Theta Series Book 1 (11 page)

Ingrid tugged on his sleeve, avoiding
his skin. He turned to face the female, who against all logic,
called his body to attention with only the barest scent of her
skin.

She smiled and spoke, her quiet words
slipping between those lips he wanted to suck and kiss and lick
repeatedly. Then maybe he’d…

“Gene and I have worked out an
arrangement.” She spoke as if this were good news.

Mack slumped against the
railing. Today must be
Torture the PM
Day.
“I’m happy for you." He tried very
hard to sound sincere.

“Oh?” She walked closer, her smile
turning sultry.

Blood flowed south in a hurry, the
intense need to touch and be touched a new wave forming in the
distance. His sea wall was cracking. Big time.

But even without contact, her
closeness brought him unimagined pleasure. He drank in her
scent—lavender soap, clean sweat, a fruity lip-gloss she might have
just applied. She opened her mouth to speak and he leaned
closer.

“I want to feel what it’s like to
touch you again, to connect to you,” she whispered.

“Probably not a good idea, although I
can’t stop thinking about you.” He moved closer, his mouth only
inches from hers, their breaths mingling.
“Extraordinary.”

She giggled. “You think
so?”

“Touching you again would
be exactly that
.
I’m sure, I…” This female had him twisted in knots and
tongue-tied. He began to understand Alan’s problem.

“I can’t stop thinking about what
happened and what it might mean.”

“It would put you in danger. The
Director will know if..."

She laughed, the vibration only adding
length to a fast-growing erection. “You mean he’ll know if you’re
getting laid on a regular basis?" She stepped away, placing her
hands on her hips. "Why do you think the head honchos don’t want
techs and actors mixing it up? Did your instructors tell you it was
unsafe?"

“And what do you believe?”

"They suspect our powers in
combination will be too strong, strong enough to bring them down."
Ingrid tugged on the sleeve of her sweater, covering her hand with
the soft fabric. With her cashmere covered hand, she tilted his
face toward hers, urging him to meet her gaze. "They're afraid."
She took another step closer.

“Ingrid…” Ignoring Mack’s warning
tone, she leaned seductively into his body, their clothing creating
a protective barrier to ward off any unpredictable connection. Her
breasts pressed against his shirt, her dance leggings against his
jeans. He sighed and shivered beneath her touch, his need for this
female obvious to both of them. The way her small form nestled
perfectly against him, her cashmere-coated fists resting behind his
neck, created a crack in his armor that might never be
repaired.

And despite what his brain
was shouting for him
not
to do, Mack followed his heart, burying his nose
in Ingrid’s dark waves, allowing this secret pleasure, the wave of
temptation breaching his private breakfront and crashing on
shore.

She smelled like hope, a female he
could love if he were free to love. Mack wanted her touch with a
desperation he'd never felt in his twenty-eight years. The evidence
tightened his pants and tweaked his heart. "You bewilder me," he
whispered, kissing her neck.

The contact brought a rush of warmth,
a baring of souls, a truth: physical, but so much more. Almost of
their own accord, his arms snaked around her body, causing her to
burrow closer with a motion that added fire to his already-heated
libido. Instead of pulling away, he rested his cheek against her
fragrant hair and breathed her into his lungs.

Once. Twice. Again.

For a dozen heartbeats, neither of
them spoke, yet their bodies were in constant communication, their
magics weaving an intricate pattern, axis to axis. He connected
with his actors at every rehearsal, every performance, but gods,
this was heaven—like nothing else.

She smiled against his shirt then
looked up with a questioning gaze. Her mouth was so sexy, with
those full pink lips and that tongue that darted out to moisten
them. Her mouth made him crazy, distracting him from all logical
thought. He should push her away. Now.

One more minute. Surely holding her
for one more minute wouldn't upset the balance of the universe,
would it? He ran a hand up and down her back, keeping the strokes
gentle, more soothing than passionate. He heard her sigh, and
smiled.

She spoke again with a husky tone that
sent vibrations directly to a part of his body that needed no more
attention. “Together, we can take him down.”

Mack moved away. “What did you
say?”

“You feel how our powers meld, don’t
you? I have so much more to show you, to tell you. I’ve been
experimenting.”

Was that how it was with her? She
needed him for her experiments and seduction was simply part of her
arsenal? He swallowed hard and took another step away, his barriers
in place once more. “Would you tell the others to meet on the roof
in five?”

She looked confused. “Is something
wrong?”

“Not at all. We’ll talk tomorrow. I
have appointments lined up for today.” He was attempting to sound
normal, but his blood had chilled.

“I’m going out with Gene
tonight.”

“Good. You’ll have fun with him.” A
small smile was all he could manage. Her gaze was curious, but she
followed his orders, leaving with a bounce in her step.

Mack turned around, clutching at the
railing, pretending to look at the two sturdy tugboats heading back
to their slips. His erection was shrinking as if he’d dunked
himself into the icy harbor, which was just as well. It would’ve
made him uncomfortable for the troupe to know he’d fallen for her
charms. No, he wouldn’t endanger the troupe so she could experiment
with their powers. Not even for a chance to share her
bed.

Her scent was on his
shirt, wafting up in the slight breeze off the water. He stared
down at the murky dark, finding it hard to refocus. For those few
minutes, he’d believed in something more. It would be difficult for
him to forgive her for that or to forgive himself for becoming
vulnerable. It’s true they had a strange connection, but it didn’t
mean they were
soul mates
or any fucking garbage like that.

He closed his eyes and pulled in some
power, relieved to find that he was able to regain his center. This
next script was going to be tougher. He straightened his back and
walked into the main room, plastering on a pleasant
smile.

A few minutes later, they were on the
roof gearing up for another rehearsal. The new script was read and
discussed and Ingrid asked a question. “Would anyone mind if I
tried an experiment? This is only a rehearsal and I have some fun
stuff I want to work on.”

“What kind of experiment, exactly?”
Diane looked leery.

“It would only involve Gene and Sam
and me—as far as the projections go. Everyone else would be doing
what they always do.”

“No.” Mack had overheard.

“Why?” she asked, looking
surprised.

“I’m game,” Sam spoke up. He seemed
excited.

“Me too.” Gene gave her a
thumbs-up.

“Great.” Ingrid found herself
grinning.

“How can you be sure it’s safe?”
Mack’s gut told him Ingrid wouldn't consciously do anything
dangerous, but these actors were his to protect.

“I'm sure.” She stepped closer, a
challenge in her tone. “Don’t you want to see what I’ve really got,
before we step out onto an actual stage?” Their gaze locked for a
heartbeat, but when he added a touch of power, she turned away
first. He was her boss. She needed to learn that quickly. “I
thought you didn’t throw your weight around to get your way,” she
mumbled, looking hurt.

“I’m not the only one throwing their
weight around.”

She changed gears. “I’m sorry. Please.
Rehearsals are the place to work things out, right?”

“C’mon Mack. We’ll be fine,” Gene
urged.

Even Staci got in the act. “We’ve
worked on new ways to improve our performances before. I trust
Ingrid’s judgment.”

“Fine, but I’m pulling out if I think
there’s a problem.”

Ingrid smiled, snapping into business
mode. “Thanks. I need Dave or Diane to be an audience member.
Otherwise we won’t know if it works the way I think it will.”
Neither one volunteered. “It’ll be a slightly more intense
experience than it normally is.”

Diane rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Okay, I’ll be your audience. Let's see what you can
do.”

“Perfect.” Ingrid’s face glowed with
excitement.

Mack was very familiar with this
particular script, a difficult scenario because of the quick scene
and character changes. After being hunted through dark streets, the
young virgin male and female fae were taken to the nest to be
drained and re-infused with the master's blood. Because they’d
retained their fae abilities, the newbie vampires led the ancient
master and his nest into Faerie, allowing them to feed on the
nobles of the court until sated, gaining strength with every sip.
Chaos continued on through the end of the script.

Staci would project the fae nobles;
Dave the rest of the vampire nest and Sam would create the master
vampire, the key role.

When Alan called places, a nervous
tension electrified the air. Ingrid faced Gene and Sam with a gleam
in her eye, whispering, “When I tell you to hold onto me, you and
Sam better hold on tight. Don’t let go until I say it's okay. And
keep dancing, no matter what happens."

“I’ll be stuck on you like a sweet gum
ball.” Gene kissed her on the nose, his accent rising to the top
like cream.

Mack's jaw was clenched
tight enough to make his head throb.
Shit.
He couldn’t actually be
jealous, could he? Thetas weren't territorial like vamps and
wolves. They were controlled. Focused. Cerebral. They didn't get
raging hard-ons when a female looked at them with enormous aqua
blue eyes or want to fucking rip apart another male for kissing
said female on the nose.

Mack watched in horror as Ingrid
turned to Sam, praying Sam wouldn't kiss her too. She spoke softly;
the husky sound had him swallowing down a groan. "Pull in some
extra energy and you'll be fine." Sam nodded and smiled. Gene was
practically jumping up and down with excitement.

Using every ounce of control he'd
developed through years of intense training, Mack left thoughts of
Ingrid behind and readied his mind for the job before
him.

They spun, twisted, and pulled up
their psy-magic, as he shared his axis, Alan doing his part by
adding scene-setting music and gloomy surroundings. Gene and Ingrid
brushed together softly as the fae maiden and her betrothed crept
through garbage-strewn alleyways and urine-scented streets, the
odors more foul than usual.

Off to the side, Diane, who’d
connected to Ingrid’s mind as an audience member would, made a
disgusted sound when the stench hit her nose, then cried out in
fright as the fae were captured and dragged to the mansion that
housed the master vampire and his nest. The real work began when
the trio danced an intricate pattern, clutching at each other, as
both men fought to own the female. As she was drained and turned,
they heard Diane sobbing, crying out, “No! Please!"

At the very moment Ingrid's fae female
transformed into vampire, her projection solidified, looking as
real as anyone you'd pass on the street. Ingrid had lifted her
hands above her head, her body now spinning without effort in Sam's
arms. Mack felt it first as heat rushing at him from her direction,
drawing his senses and sucking more power from his axis. Her true
body seemed to glow with a pale energy, light enough to wash away
the late afternoon shadows in the rehearsal space. Sam’s contact
with her body brought another sheen of light, and when Gene
partnered her for his portion of the dance, their turns impossibly
fast, his glow added a third layer of light.

Shocked at the sight, Mack almost lost
focus, but he managed to move past the distraction and hold on,
automatically adding more axis energy to help them create their
incredible magic. Ingrid's projection had taken on the sickly sweet
scent of vampire and for a moment, he believed a female vamp had
somehow broken in the downstairs door and stolen up to the roof of
the building.

“Lift me higher," Ingrid whispered to
Sam, who complied without protest, holding her up with a single
hand and tossing her to Gene. He caught her effortlessly and the
dance progressed with a grace and strength incredible, and yet
disturbing for Mack to watch. Before today, he would have sworn
these leaps, spins, and throws could only have been accomplished in
a lower gravity environment, but here on a roof in New York City,
he was witnessing true magic.

Diane growled, hissing out the feral
noises of a newly made vampire. She crouched on the ground,
sniffing the air.

Mack stopped the rehearsal right
there; gently slowing his power share, then cutting it off when he
knew no one would be injured by the aborted energy.