Home > The Roommate(41)

The Roommate(41)
Author: Rosie Danan

   For the umpteenth time in the last hour, her eyes jumped from her computer screen on the coffee table to Josh’s closed bedroom door. Behind that thin strip of wood, she knew he was writing X-rated fantasies. All the moisture in her mouth relocated below her waist.

   Going to that sex shop was a mistake. Watching Josh select items for their project with authority and expertise fired off a thousand pleasure sensors in her brain. She tugged her top away from her heated skin. Cotton wasn’t as breathable as the manufacturers claimed.

   In order to complete her to-do list for the evening, she needed to secure a domain name. Unfortunately, she, Josh, and Naomi still hadn’t agreed on what to call the project. LadyBoners.com and Orgasms4All .org, Josh’s latest suggestions, didn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

   The man of the hour opened his door. “Hey.” He had a worn black notebook in his hands.

   “Hi.” Clara crossed her legs. “How’s it going in there?”

   “It’s going all right.” He pointed the open notebook in her direction and fanned through several pages full of his dark, spiky handwriting. “Once I got started it turned out I had a lot to say.”

   Clara swallowed hard. “I can imagine.” So many things. A million Josh fantasies played on loop in her mind. She needed some kind of anti-libido medication. Or a therapist. Probably both.

   Josh descended onto the sofa beside her. Close enough for her to feel the heat rolling off his body. She gritted her teeth to keep from inhaling his scent.

   “The trouble is, I can’t tell if any of it is good or if I’m dribbling garbage across the page.”

   “Do you want me to take a look?”

   “Actually, I was thinking maybe I could read it to you?” His voice held a hint of insecurity. “Since it’s supposed to be delivered as narration.” Josh ruffled the fluff of curls in front of his eyes. “Unless that’s weird? Since it’s sexy. I could always call Naomi.”

   “No.” She shoved her computer under the coffee table and faced Josh with her legs tucked together in front of her. “I can listen.”

   “Oh, okay. Great. So it’s a part of the introductory series. For partners who are getting to know each other sexually and figuring out what works. I thought that rather than diving right in, the woman, the performer in our case, could show her partner how she pleasures herself. Help them get a sense of where she likes to be touched and with how much pressure.”

   “That sounds smart.” Clara forced herself to look away from his mouth. Damn it. She wanted him bad.

   “Okay. I’ll start then?”

   “No time like the present.” She steeled herself. No one ever died from an overdose of desire.

   “Begin by helping your partner get in the mood.” Josh altered his pronunciation slightly so that his syllables came out with more authority than his average speaking voice. He poured the magic of his charisma across the innocent words, making them smoky and tempting. “Ask her to describe one of her favorite fantasies. As she gets comfortable, encourage her to touch the parts of her body that become stimulated by the story.”

   Josh lowered the notebook as Clara ran her hand up and down her thigh. “What do you think of that exercise? Heather, one of Naomi’s friends from Cal State who’s a certified sex therapist, suggested it.”

   Her tongue felt big in her mouth. “I think it’s good. And the tone you’re using, deep and slow. That’s good too. It’s sexy but not over the top.”

   The corner of Josh’s mouth kicked up. “Thanks.” One of his reckless curls fell in front of his eye and Clara fisted her hands in her pajama pants to keep from reaching out and running the glossy strands between her fingers.

   He flipped a few pages in his notebook. “So then I mapped out some blocking for the performer, though I think we can give her a lot of creative freedom to explore her own desires. The idea would be that we explore several erogenous zones starting with the mouth, ears, and throat, and then make our way down her body, lingering at her breasts.”

   “Wow.” Her body burned for his touch in each of the places he’d mentioned.

   “Oh, good call.” He scribbled the word collarbone in his notebook and Clara realized she’d begun tracing her clavicle with two fingers, imagining his mouth. She hastily shoved her hand under her butt.

   “I think a lot of men write nipple stimulation off because they don’t know the right way to do it. Women often spend more time exploring that area on their own bodies than their partners do.”

   Clara’s breasts grew tighter as each word slipped from his perfect lips. She raised her eyes to see Josh running a hand over his mouth as he stared at her chest.

   “We could try it,” he said. “The exercise. If you wanted to. It’s normal to be overstimulated when you first take up pleasure as a profession. When I got into the business my dick practically fell off from all the solo sessions I needed to take the edge off.”

   “I have noticed an increase in my sexual . . . appetite.” A drop of sweat slipped between her breasts. “I suppose, in a sense, we have an obligation as the creative leads to make sure what we’re suggesting works.” Her heartbeat kicked into an alarming staccato. “We wouldn’t want to show up on set, with the performers we’re paying, and waste their time on something that hasn’t gone through careful vetting.”

   His eyes burned, an expression of hunger unlike anything she’d ever seen. “Right. It’s not like we’d be having sex.”

   “No,” Clara agreed around a heaving breath. “Definitely not sex.”

   “It’s masturbation.” He shifted in his seat. “Perfectly normal. And you said earlier you’ve been worked up lately.”

   Clara bobbed her head. The massive bulge in his pants made her lips part. A thousand alarms rang in her ears, warning her of their crumbling boundaries, as her hands strayed to the hem of her top. “I really have.”

   “I bet if you touched yourself—relieved that distraction—you’d be a lot more focused on your work. Both for Jill and on the project.”

   An excellent point. “And a relaxed mind is more creative.”

   Josh positioned the notebook in front of his lap. “I’m always reading about the long-term health benefits of regular orgasms.”

   Her fingers stilled. “You are?”

   “Sure.”

   “So I would, what . . . take off my shirt and touch my breasts?” That sounded like the kind of thing a self-possessed, sexually liberated, hot person might do.

   Josh cleared his throat. “That sounds like a good start.”

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