He did as she bade him, shuffling with an impressive flick of his wrist. Clara hadn’t anticipated how much this game would make her focus on his hands. Perhaps she was losing so badly because she couldn’t stop thinking about all the ways he’d used those long fingers to make her moan? Knowing she’d barely scratched the surface of his sexual talents made her a little crazy. According to that article, he was the Michael Jordan of cunnilingus.

Clara lost another round.

“Good thing we’re not playing for money, huh?” He gave her an impish smile.

She squirmed. Get a hold of yourself. She was doing the same thing as all of those other people who treated Josh like a piece of meat. If he were an investment banker or a plumber, she wouldn’t be imagining ripping off all her clothes and begging him to take her. His illicit profession had warped her brain into some kind of frenzy.

“How many glasses of wine have you had?”

“Two?” Oh no. Was she drooling?

“You’re all rosy.” Josh brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “Do you want me to grab you some water?”

Clara’s hands flew to her cheeks. “No. I’m fine. Must be feverish with competitive spirit.”

“I’ve gotta admit.” Josh leaned forward. “I like watching you lose.”

Heat spread across her chest at his gravelly tone. “That’s a horrible thing to say!”

“No, I mean it’s cute.”

Clara brightened.

“You get all pouty like a little kid.”

Oh. Like a kid. Of course. “I am not pouting. I’m concentrating. This is how my face looks when I concentrate.”

Josh shot a glance at the ledger. “Maybe you should concentrate less.”

Clara handed him her discarded cards with more force than necessary. “This game is rigged.”

“I offered to give you a handicap.” Josh tossed a handful of popcorn at her.

The soft kernels bounced off her nose and she gasped. “You’ve got an evolutionary advantage. Your arms are longer, making it easier for you to reach the cards, and your hands are bigger, meaning you can flip through your stack faster.”

Josh laughed. “Your ability to rationalize knows no bounds.”

“Maybe we should switch to gin rummy?”

Josh pulled a face. “Are you kidding? How about Texas hold ’em?”

Clara rose up to her knees on the couch in indignation. “What’s wrong with gin rummy? I used to play all the time with my grandfather.”

“Exactly. It’s a game for old people. I rest my case.”

From somewhere deep in the cushions, a phone beeped. Josh and Clara both stuck their hands down the seam of the sofa and their arms brushed. Goose bumps broke out across her skin and she prayed he didn’t notice.

“It’s mine.” Josh’s mouth twisted like he’d sucked on a lemon as he looked at the message on the screen.

“What’s it say?”

Josh tossed the phone behind him. “Nothing.” Then he shoved a bunch of popcorn in his mouth.

“It’s obviously not nothing. Come on. Who’s texting you?”

“H. D. Pruitt.”

“Why does that name sound familiar?”

Josh bent to pick up the dispersed kernels. “Because he’s the CEO of Black Hat.”

Clara gasped. “The one Toni wrote about?”

“Yeah. I took a meeting with him this morning and he offered me this insane deal. Six figures to headline his hardcore division.”

What the hell did they do in the hardcore division?

“Before you freak out, I turned him down. He, uh, may have threatened to blacklist me.”

“He what? Josh, that’s terrible. Not to mention illegal.”

“Pretty standard for Black Hat as far as I can tell. I figured he might try something similar when I agreed to the meeting. It’s not a big deal. I’ve got a year left on my contract with them, but I’ve fulfilled my film quota. I’ll take a hiatus. They can’t sue me or anything.”

“But what are you going to do for a year? What about your talent?”

Josh raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’ll have to go back to using my talent recreationally.”

Clara’s heartbeat skidded to a halt.

“The only rights not locked down in my stock agreement are for voice-over.”

Putting a pin in why she cared so much about Josh’s “recreational activities,” Clara narrowed her eyes. “Wait, so you’re saying you could narrate something?”

Josh cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, I guess, in theory. People aren’t usually looking for a narrator in their pornos. That kinda thing probably goes from zero to wildlife special real quick.”

Clara sat up straighter. “But what if you didn’t make porn?”

“Then I wouldn’t have a job?”

An idea ran like a charge down her spine. “Okay, remember that thing you helped me with?”

He raised a shoulder and frowned.

“That thing.” She looked down at her lap.

“Sorry, no.”

“Ugh. Remember that time you gave me an orgasm?”

“Ha. Yeah. I knew what you meant. I wanted to hear you say it.”

Clara rolled her eyes. Jerk. “Well, a lot of women have problems like that. I looked it up.”

“Of course you did.”

“Their partners don’t know how to get them off. Or they know like one way to do it and they ride that horse into the ground.” She’d once dated an engineer who insisted that any position besides missionary gave him a migraine. “But you could help them. You said you wanted to produce something. What if you made something somewhere between porn and sex ed?”

Josh rubbed the back of his neck. “Like an orgasm how-to guide?”

“Yes! Exactly. You could narrate tips and tricks and . . . I don’t know . . . scenarios focused on women’s sexual pleasure. Your fan base would eat that up.”

Josh bit his thumbnail. “It’s not a bad idea, but the start-up costs associated with something like that would add up fast. You’re talking hiring performers, renting a sound stage. You need a ton of expensive equipment. Lighting, editing, web hosting, marketing. I’ve got some savings, but I’d burn through it way before I ever saw money back. Even if we set up a subscription model.”

“Well, I could help pay for it.” She’d always imagined that eventually, she’d sponsor the creation of meaningful art with her wealth. While this particular type of venture had never entered her mind, she found she wasn’t opposed. In fact, she could barely catch her breath for how excited the idea made her.

“What? No. I’m not taking your money.”

“Why not? Lots of projects get investors. I’ve got a trust fund just sitting there. I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t believe in the concept.”

“No. Seriously. Borrowing money ruins friendships.”

Clara’s cheeks heated. “You consider me your friend?”

“Of course you’re my friend, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

“Then don’t let the money thing make it weird. Women need this. No.” She corrected herself. “Women deserve this.” She stood up. This felt like the kind of moment when a person should stand up. “Women need to know that their pleasure matters. If we build the right resource, the world would no longer have an excuse not to know how the clitoris works.”

Josh stared up at her. “I can’t believe you said clitoris at full volume. I can’t tell if I’m afraid of you right now or turned on. Possibly both. Are you sure you only had two glasses of wine?”

If only his attraction didn’t extend to the entire female half of the population. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

He looked at his hands folded in his lap and sat uncharacteristically still. “Why me?”

Couldn’t he see it? “You’re the perfect inspiration. God knows I don’t want to inflate your ego further, but I can imagine you’re a gateway to porn for a lot of women. Must be your massive . . . personality.”

A smile broke across his face. “I’m pretty sure that somewhere in that little soapbox speech was the nicest compliment I’ve ever been paid.” Josh stood up from the couch and bumped her shoulder with his own. “But don’t I need, you know, women for an idea like this? I’m not exactly an authority on the female body.”

Clara snorted. “Obviously. But you wouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“Are you volunteering?”

“Me? Oh no. Absolutely not.” Her vision swam at the very thought of tying her name to a project like that. “Just think of me as an anonymous bag of money. You must know someone, a woman someone, who wouldn’t mind being on camera.” She stared at the ceiling. “Naked.”

“I know a lot of someones like that. But someone who wouldn’t be deterred by Pruitt’s threat? That narrows the list considerably. There is one person who comes to mind, but that might make things a little complicated.”

“Well, call her.” Clara knew he meant Naomi Grant. That this business idea she’d had would likely provide the setting for their inevitable reconciliation. Attempting to ignore the panic climbing up her body, Clara realized that she’d just handed Josh a one-way ticket out of her life.