Josh dimpled at her. “You don’t actually need to bounce. I mean you can, the view would be nice.” He dropped his gaze for only a moment. “But in the tutorial, we’re suggesting more of a rocking motion to get your clit in contact with my pubic bone.” To his professional credit, Josh delivered the titillating description with a straight face.

“How would that work?” She could barely get the words out. His scent, a heady mixture of skin and soap, had caused a fog of lust to roll in and cover half her brain.

“I could show you, but I’d . . . uh . . . have to put my hands on your ass.”

“That would be all right,” Clara said with as much dignity as she could muster. What had happened to her willpower?

Josh cupped her behind, bunching the delicate fabric of her skirt until the tips of his fingers seared her bare skin. His eyes fluttered closed as, from that point of leverage, he ground her against his pelvis in a fluid figure eight.

Holy shit. She bit her lip to keep from moaning. Riding the rough denim of his jeans through only the thin cloth of her underwear created an exquisite friction. “Oh my God.”

“Are you okay?” Josh froze, clenching his jaw so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek.

Clara murmured confirmation and squeezed her eyes shut. If she opened her mouth she’d say something desperate. Something filthy. She knew she could come like this if he repeated that motion.

Josh shifted his grip to her hips. “We still have to place the tape.” His breathing had gone ragged.

Clara couldn’t believe she’d ever wasted a second of her sex life on any position but this one. She pressed her palms to the floor on either side of his face, rocking over him as her breasts dragged across his chest.

When she opened her eyes he was gazing back at her.

She bit her bottom lip hard enough to taste blood. Dry-humping was tragically underrated.

“Damn it, Clara. You’re driving me crazy.”

He brought his hands back to her ass and opened the span of his fingers so he could knead her overheated skin.

Clara wantonly rubbed herself against him as her pleasure built. “Oh God. I’m close.”

His grip grew rough enough that she imagined she’d wake up tomorrow to imprints of his fingertips. The idea made her shiver against him. “Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you say.” Josh grunted as he dragged her lower this time, across his unmistakable erection.

“You know, it works even better if you take off your clothes,” Naomi said in a dry voice from inside the room.

Josh and Clara both scrambled to their feet, or at least they tried to. Her feet slipped on the shiny laminate flooring and she waved her arms wildly, trying to regain her balance.

“Fuck,” Josh said as Clara’s elbow slammed into his solar plexus.

“Not quite.” Naomi examined her manicure. “But I’m sure if I’d shown up ten minutes later . . .”

Clara opened her mouth to apologize or explain. Whichever came out first.

“I’m a patient woman, but if you utter the words this isn’t what it looks like, I am going to lose my shit.”

Josh’s low voice contained traces of both weariness and warning as he said, “Stu—”

“Clara, would you please give us a moment?” Naomi bared her teeth like a rabid panther.

Indecision locked Clara’s feet to the floor. On the one hand, she probably shouldn’t abandon Josh. After all, it took two to drop down and gyrate. On the other hand, Naomi was his ex. An ex that he still hoped to reconcile with, last she’d heard. Perhaps he wanted the opportunity to explain the problem with the tape directly? Clara hardly wanted to stand around and listen to Josh write off her amateur response to what the two professionals probably considered an everyday ask.

She gathered her things slowly, giving Josh plenty of time to signal if he needed moral support. She even bent to retie her shoelaces.

“Clara, it’s okay.” He kept his eyes locked on Naomi. “I’ll meet you in the car.”

As she fled, a thousand scenarios for what was going on back in the studio ran in Technicolor through her mind. Each one more incendiary than the last. She started the engine and turned on the radio. Because the two most likely outcomes of a disagreement between Josh and Naomi were yelling and screwing, and in either case, she didn’t want to hear it.

* * *

  • • •

NAOMI POINTED A menacing finger directly at Josh’s heart. “You can’t turn it off, can you?”

Josh sighed. He was already drowning in the quicksand of his feelings for Clara. The last thing he needed right now was a lecture from his ex-girlfriend.

“I can’t believe you would gamble all of our futures to get your dick wet.”

He reached out and batted Naomi’s hand away. “Don’t talk about her like that. Clara and I are not having sex.” At least, not the kind Naomi was accusing him of. Jesus, when had his life gotten so complicated?

“Wow.” Naomi took a step backward that set her dress swinging around her knees. “I never thought I’d see the day when you’d lie to my face.” She spread her arms out away from her body. “I knew this was gonna happen. I knew as soon as she moved in. You can’t resist a woman that will never commit to you.”

Josh rejected the burn of embarrassment in his throat. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. We were fixing a blocking mistake. One that you didn’t notice, by the way.” Had they both needed to get on the ground? Probably not. But Clara had on that flirty little skirt with pleats and he couldn’t help himself.

“I did not make a blocking mistake.” She stomped over to the camera mount and peered through the lens. “Are you talking about the framing of the shot? Josh, I had the wide angle professionally cleaned.” She pulled the expensive lens out of her purse. “That’s the standard on the rig. I came back to switch it out. Now, thanks to your amorous shenanigans, I have to move Lance and Ginger’s call time tomorrow up an hour to fix this mess.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh.”

That made sense. Shit. He’d been nervous about having everything ready. Add in the increasingly dizzy feeling he got whenever Clara came within ten feet of him, and he’d clearly jumped to conclusions.

Naomi tapped her foot. “Besides, even if I had made a mistake, what you two were doing was not blocking.”

“Jesus. You’re right. Okay? Look, if it makes you feel any better I got kicked in the balls for my efforts.” He still had a vague stomachache. “You think I don’t know that Clara Wheaton is an impossible pull? She’s a rich, cultured genius and I’m a degenerate college dropout with more dick than brains.”

Everyone thought it was the jealousy thing you had to worry about when trying to date in his line of work, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. Jealousy assumed that nonindustry people accepted the moral and social implications of his profession. That they wouldn’t mind introducing someone who made porn to coworkers and parents. That the object of your affection could imagine standing up next to you in front of friends and family and declaring love and allegiance to someone who large swaths of the rest of the world considered unclean. Clara had been clear that her family would never accept him.

Naomi’s eyebrows shot together. “When was the last time you had sex?”

He looked at the ceiling, trying to remember. A vision of Clara, her eyes closed and her mouth open as she arched her back in pleasure, entered his head. Clara didn’t count. Now that he came to think about it, maybe there hadn’t been anyone for a while.

“Too. Long,” Naomi snapped. “If you have to think about it, it’s been too long.”

“I’ve been busy.” Starting a business was significantly more labor intensive than he’d assumed when he signed up.

“Yeah,” Naomi scoffed. “Busy falling for someone completely inappropriate. Did you ever stop to think about all the people who could get caught in the crossfire if you break Clara’s heart? What’s gonna happen to Shameless when the two of you can’t stand to be in the same room together?” She ran her hands through her hair. “If she pulls our funding, we’re done.”

“Who says I’d break her heart?” He didn’t want to hurt Clara. Yes, he wanted to fuck her. But he’d fucked lots of people and they all seemed to like it. For the first time in a long time, he had a lot more than sex on his brain. That impossible word sprang to mind again, but he tucked it away. Later, when he was alone, he could let it out of its box and examine it.

“Don’t insult me by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Naomi said.

It was Josh’s turn to throw his hands in the air. “What you’re talking about is none of your business.”

“None of my business? Josh, you’re the one who made this my business. And not just me. What about all the performers we convinced to follow us on this suicide mission against Pruitt? What happens to them when the paychecks dry up?”

“All right.” He held up his hands. “You’ve made your point. I’ll back off Clara.”