chapter seven
JOSH OPENED HIS front door to find a spectacular ass pointed right at him.
The ass in question, he noted with surprise, belonged to his uptight roommate. Unsuspecting of his admiring review, Clara lounged on the sofa watching something on her computer. The thin nightgown she wore rode up her thighs, treating him to a barely obstructed view of her legs and sweet ass peeking out of pale pink cotton panties.
He bit down hard on his fist to avoid groaning.
Closing his eyes, he said a silent prayer to a God he didn’t believe in. Lord, give me the strength to not fuck my roommate.
His rough grunt filled the room.
Except he hadn’t made a sound.
Josh’s eyes snapped open. Because he’d honed that grunt into his calling card. Used it countless times to indicate to co-stars and audiences alike that he’d hit his stride. That noise meant his body wavered dangerously close to nirvana, that a few more deep strokes would make him see stars.
That grunt meant Clara was watching porn. His porn.
Josh’s chest expanded with pride. Well well well, Miss Wheaton.
Obviously, he knew people watched the videos he made. He made them for that purpose. But he’d never walked in on someone viewing his work before. And the fact that his stuff might fuel the naughty dreams of a girl like Clara? Maybe he hadn’t wasted the last two years of his life after all.
Josh watched his own ass clench as he got closer and closer to his on-screen crescendo. Clara’s head tilted to follow the trajectory of his body as he maneuvered his partner into a particularly impressive final position.
Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the door frame, basking in this moment of unexpected glory. After locking this image away for a rainy day, he finally announced his presence by dropping his duffel bag on the floor.
Clara responded to the soft thud as if someone had fired a gun in the living room. She slammed her computer shut and bolted off the couch, pulling her nightgown toward her knees to no avail in the process.
“I thought you weren’t going to be home until later,” she blurted out, squirming like a fish caught on a line.
Words caught in his throat. From the front, her pajamas turned positively sinful. Clara’s impressive tits strained against the well-worn fabric, and he made direct eye contact with her hard nipples. Everything about her read as wanton. Fuck. Did that little wiggle signal guilt or was she simply that horny?
Pink swatches stained her cheeks, and her bee-stung lips parted as she tried to catch her breath.
“My meeting ended abruptly. What were you watching?” He feigned ignorance. He knew he should walk away from this terrible temptation—knew no good could come from lingering in this room and imagining what he might have found had he walked in ten minutes later. But as her face transitioned from pink to crimson, and her gaze bore holes into the carpet, he couldn’t resist the urge to push her buttons.
“Oh, it was a video about . . . um . . . meditation.” She bobbed her head as reinforcement to her statement.
Josh let his gaze travel over her body in a way that he knew she’d notice. “Yeah?” he asked, testing the truth of her words. “Must have been pretty exciting.”
She crossed her arms.
“You’re flushed.”
Clara finally managed to stop her head from bobbing and instead bit into her bottom lip, drawing his attention back to her lush mouth. “Well, it is exercise for the mind.” Her pitch climbed with each word.
Josh cradled his chin in his hand, stroking his jaw. “Awful loud for meditation.”
“You’re right. I’m a terrible liar.” Clara straightened her shoulders as if steeling herself for battle. “I can’t believe I couldn’t come up with anything better than meditation. People assume I can think on my feet because I was All-State in debate, but it really is a very different skill set.” She hung her head. “Anyways, that’s not the point. The point is,” she continued with incredible gravity in her voice, “I was watching pornography.” She brought a hand up to cover her eyes as she completed her confession. “I was watching your pornography. But I swear I wasn’t doing anything untoward.”
Thank God. His dick wouldn’t have survived walking in on that visual.
“I was curious! I’ve never met anyone who . . .” She gestured at her closed computer.
His chuckle reverberated low in his throat. “Why am I not surprised that you’ve never met an adult performer?”
“Oh. Is that the, um, preferred vernacular?”
“I guess it depends who I’m talking to.” He stopped to consider, sinking onto the sofa. People didn’t usually ask for his opinion on the matter. “I can’t speak for everyone, but if I’m with someone from the industry, I’m more likely to say performer. Porn star is the term I hear most often in a cultural context, and I’m fine with it as a more universal shorthand, even if it does feel a little goofy to apply it to myself.”
Clara eyed the couch wearily for a moment before joining him.
He’d meant to make this more comfortable for both of them by taking a seat. Not scare her further with his proximity. Josh reached out a hand to reassure her with a gentle pat on the arm, but pulled back at the last moment and tossed her the blanket hanging off the back of the sofa instead.
His life revolved around touching strangers. It was no wonder he had all these instincts to offer Clara physical comfort. He had to keep reminding himself that they hardly knew each other. Josh never worried that his job affected his mental state, but maybe he should.
He didn’t bat an eyelash at licking a strange woman’s pussy ten minutes after meeting her, so why did the idea of patting Clara’s forearm give him a thrill?
“Any other questions?” No one ever had only one when it came to his job. Better to get the inevitable inquisition over with now.
Clara wrapped the throw around her shoulders and Josh mourned the loss of the view.
“Yes. Sorry. What’s your name? Your real name, I mean.”
At least that one was easy. “It’s Josh. Joshua Conners.”
“Don’t tell me ‘Darling’ is your middle name?”
He shook his head ruefully. “Plenty of people spend a lot of time and energy coming up with a fake name when they go into porn, but I fell into mine. My first day on set, we had this crazy British director. The guy wore a beret unironically. Anyway, I walked up and introduced myself. He asked me my name, and I told him. I didn’t know any better.”
“You didn’t think to use the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on?”