by Rosie Danan
“Wheaton,” he called across the yard. “You’re with me.”
She turned toward him with wide eyes. “Me?” She looked around at all the guests. “No. That’s okay. I’ll sit this next one out. You all go ahead.”
Josh shook his head and curled his finger. “Get over here.” He’d made it his personal mission to ensure that she spent the remainder of the barbecue having fun.
Clara obeyed with visible reluctance as Felix and Max lined up the long rows of cups on either side of the table, pouring light beer across them.
Josh pulled Clara to his side of the table and bumped his hip against hers. “This one’s easy,” he said, showing her the motion with an empty cup. “It’s all in the wrist.”
“I know how to play flip cup.” She raised her chin defiantly. “I spent the last nine years on various college campuses.”
“Fair enough,” Josh said. “Naomi and I are the anchors. So stand next to me and I can make up for any lag time.”
Clara crossed her arms. “Why are you assuming I’m going to lag?”
He didn’t get the chance to respond before Felix climbed on a chair and bellowed. “Okay, folks. You’ll go on my command. The first player on each team must answer my question before they start drinking. Players ready? Would you rather fuck Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny?”
The shouted replies of the first player on each team mingled in an alarming calamity and then they were off. The other team members cheered and the spectators heckled through the megaphones of their cupped hands. A bolt of competitive spirit ran up Josh’s spine.
He held his breath as the line sped toward Clara. Please don’t let her get flustered. Josh could barely watch as the player in front of her, Stacy, scrambled. The other team gained on them as she attempted over and over again to land her cup. Josh gritted his teeth.
Shit. Now the round would end on Clara’s turn and she’d feel awful again. He could hardly stand to see her upset. It was like watching a puppy with a broken leg. Josh chose not to examine why he cared so much that Clara fit in with his friends.
Finally, Stacy landed her cup. The other team would end it all at any moment. God damn it.
Except . . .
Josh’s mouth fell open as Clara downed her entire beer in a single gulp and then flipped her cup on the first try, using only her index finger.
“What the hell are you waiting for?” Clara’s cheeks were flushed and beer glistened on her lips as she yelled at him.
Josh shook off his stupor and flipped his own cup as Naomi floundered across from him. The cup landed after a few tries, winning the game at the last possible second in a blur of stale lager and admiring shouts from their team members.
Without thinking, Josh grabbed Clara around the waist and swung her in a circle, setting her skirt swinging.
She laughed in his arms, her grin gleaming against her cheeks. “Put me down, or I’ll throw up all over you and then we’ll both be in trouble.”
“Josh loves trouble,” Naomi said, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes as she observed their embrace. He wanted to chalk up her sour expression to her reputation as a sore loser, but that didn’t explain why he felt so guilty.
Immediately, he stopped spinning. With reluctance, he lowered Clara. A terrifying thought lit a fire in his brain. Fuck. If he wasn’t careful, trouble might not be the only thing he loved for long.
The way he felt about Clara, heart pounding every time she entered a room, greedy for her approval, laughing at everything she said. He hadn’t recognized the signals. Had always assumed he’d been born immune.
Clearing his throat, he popped open a new beer, letting the cold, bitter liquid linger on his taste buds like a wake-up call. No. Not possible.
“Where did that performance come from?”
She raised her shoulder toward her ear. “I’ve always been good at flip cup. Not that you asked.” She stuck her tongue out at him and reached to help Felix arrange the next round.
Josh tried not to panic.
He didn’t mind admitting he wanted to sleep with Clara. Or even that he liked her a lot as a person. Josh could talk to her more easily than most people, even about stuff he’d never shared with anyone else. But that didn’t mean he wanted to be with her. He’d never wanted to be someone’s boyfriend. All the responsibility and expectations. No thanks.
He couldn’t be falling for her. He wouldn’t. The laws of evolution shouldn’t allow it.
Josh watched as Clara laughed at something Felix said. He furrowed his brow. What was so funny?
Naomi offered him a plate of spinach dip and crackers. “Don’t do it.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He wiped his palms on his shorts before helping himself to the food.
“Good. Because it wouldn’t work anyway.” Even though Naomi used the same argument he’d made for himself a few minutes ago, he found himself balling his hands into fists.
His mother used to say, If you want something to happen, tell Josh it can’t be done.
chapter twenty-one
CLARA TRIED TO focus on her press release for Toni’s latest fund-raising event, but she’d had to read the same paragraph four times because Josh kept emitting distracting sighs from across the studio. She rubbed the back of her wrist across her eye and ignored him.
Josh had sworn he’d only need twenty minutes to conduct a final equipment check before shooting began tomorrow, but they’d already spent over an hour here while he obsessively inspected their modest workspace.
The setup certainly looked professional. Their skeleton crew, two film students from UCLA, had rented all the necessary lights, cameras, microphones—everything. Naomi had come by earlier and given the green light, but Josh refused to take anyone’s word for it.
Clara should have told him to go without her when he brought up driving out to Burbank after dinner. But he’d offered her a set of his spare keys that morning, and she didn’t want him to think she was rejecting his gesture.
At least she’d brought her work with her. Between the PR firm and all the extra hours she’d put in over the last few weeks on Shameless, she’d been burning the candle at both ends. If she didn’t finish this round of releases for tomorrow, even her extremely laid-back aunt would have her hide.
Another pitiful sigh made her look up, only this time she found Josh flat on his back, thrusting his hips in the air.
She gaped at him as her eyes inhaled the sensual image. “What on earth are you doing?” He should realize she didn’t have time to sift through any less-than-friendly feelings she might have developed for him. To figure out where the boundaries of living together, working together, and now canoodling fell. She’d made the executive decision to blame everything on repressed hormones and move along. She desperately hoped he’d done the same.
Josh paused midthrust and covered his face with both hands. “They framed the shot all wrong. The angle’s too wide. They’ll cut off Lance’s feet.”
“Are you sure?” Clara vaguely remembered Lance from auditions. He had some very unique piercings.
“I’m almost positive. Do me a favor, look through the lens and tell me if you can see my whole body in the shot.” Josh held the bridge position with annoying ease. As far as she could tell he didn’t submit to a traditional exercise regime outside of running. All those muscles just from sex? Despicable.
She cautiously approached the tripod and stood on her tiptoes to peer through the viewfinder. “You’re right. It cuts off at your knees.”
Josh got to his feet and turned his gaze to the ground. “Shit. We’re going to have to redo all of this gaffer’s tape. Somehow they blocked everything a foot to the right.”
“Can’t we just move the camera?”
“Not unless you want to move all the lights and the boom. We’d need a ladder.” He pointed at the vaguely feather-duster-looking
thing mounted above his head.
Clara took in the fluorescent tape scattered across the ground. “Those little marks are where the performers go?”
“Yeah. Ginger and Lance came in this morning and Naomi blocked all the positions for the intro scene.”
“So we need to move the tape? That sounds simple enough.”
“Sort of. In order to know where the new tape goes, we’d need to reblock all of the performers’ positions. We’re probably close enough to their heights, but . . .”
Clara’s palms grew slick. “What kind of positions are we talking about?”
Josh’s eyes flashed. “Ones that make it easier for women to orgasm during intercourse.”
Her pulse picked up as she wandered closer to where he stood. She’d been afraid of that. “All right.” The words wavered as she wrestled to control her excitement. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t seem to call forth her defenses against touching him. Her chest filled with anticipation. “Let’s run through the positions quickly. I’m exhausted, and I still have to find an accessible synonym for magnanimous.” She frowned so he wouldn’t see that she’d agreed to this salacious exercise to take advantage of his incredible body.
Josh blinked a few times. “I’m sorry, are you offering to simulate all of the sex positions required for the scene?”
His incredulous tone made her question herself. “I thought you were suggesting that’s what we needed to do?”
“Oh.” Josh rocked back on his heels. “Yep. That is what’s needed. No way around that.” He immediately went into a crouch and started ripping tape off the floor.
Once they had a clean slate, he got behind the camera and motioned for Clara to stand at a specific position. “Stay right there.”
He ran around and lay down so his shoulders lined up with the current position of her feet. “Okay. So now you straddle my thigh and place the tape at our feet.”
Why did both straddle and thigh, two seemingly innocuous words, sound filthy coming out of Josh’s mouth? “But . . . I’m wearing a skirt.”
His breath caught. “I could straddle your thigh?”
She massaged her temples. His long body was laid out before her like a horny feast. “Just tell me which direction to face.”
“On your knees with your back to me, put one of your legs on either side of my left leg.”
Clara held on to her hem as she carefully lowered herself into position, until her butt was almost but not quite aligned with Josh’s groin and her calf rested against his inner thigh. How anyone had the confidence to attempt a maneuver this complicated while naked was beyond her.
She couldn’t for the life of her figure out how their necessary body parts would align. “Where does my foot go?” She shifted backward until her sneaker slipped, slamming into something that forced an agonized wail out of Josh.
“Oh God. I’m so sorry.” She scrambled to her feet and stood helplessly as Josh rolled into the fetal position, clutching his unmentionables. “Should I go get an ice pack?”
“I’m fine.” The vein throbbing in his neck said otherwise.
“What if there’s permanent damage? The women of America will need a day off to mourn the loss of Josh Darling’s prized asset.”
“Please stop talking.” His eyes welled with tears.
Clara watched helplessly while he took slow, deep breaths for several minutes, until he eventually unfurled his body. “You can get back into position now,” Josh said with decidedly less enthusiasm than the first time he’d instructed her to kneel. “Gently.”
Once she’d done as bidden, Josh ripped off a few pieces of tape from the roll with his teeth and handed them over. “Mark little Xs by each of our feet.”
She leaned toward his toes in acquiescence and felt her skirt travel with her. “Are you sure ladies like this?”
“Yes.” Josh’s voice had gone rough. “It’s a similar concept to reverse cowgirl. You’re in control of the depth, the speed, the angle.” He shifted his hips. “Let’s, uh, get into the next position.”
She hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you again.”
He waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. My dick’s insured.”
Clara flung her hand to her heart. “Are you serious?”
“No. Of course not.” Josh brought the weight of his upper body onto his elbows. “But I really like that face you just made. The next position is girl on top. So if you can—”
“I know what girl on top is.” Clara tried to retain a ladylike demeanor as she adjusted her straddle. She purposefully perched on Josh’s lower stomach, rather than risk entering the danger zone below his belt, and fluffed out her skirt so she wasn’t flashing an exorbitant amount of thigh.
She pushed her hair behind her ears. “Is this right?”
“Almost.” Josh pressed his hand gently against the middle of her back.
“What are you doing?” Her voice came out sounding more like a squawk. She’d managed to get this far without encountering his erection. Not that he necessarily had one. He probably didn’t. Considering she’d almost unmanned him. Also, he did this stuff for a living, minus the layers of fabric. She schooled herself into a professional expression.
The heat of Josh’s fingertips through the silk of her blouse sent pleasant tingles up and down her spine. He guided her until their chests came into contact. “We’re going for this angle.”
“I see,” she said, trying not to notice the way her nipples rubbed against his chest each time she breathed. “I always thought I should sit up straight. You know, for leverage. This is much more intimate.” She inhaled through her nose as she studied the hard line of his jaw. “But I don’t have as much room to . . . bounce.” Surely steam poured from her ears.
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 h
im 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.