Page 17 of The Roommate

Clara fanned herself with her hand, having grasped why this video in particular had caught the eye of the article’s reporter.

Lifeguard Josh somehow conveyed with alarming dexterity that he found his co-star simultaneously the sexiest woman he had ever seen and also his best friend. The undercurrent of trust and intimacy made Clara want to look away almost as much as it made her want to press her thighs together.

The enthusiasm with which he explored that woman’s body seemed impossibly sexy. Like he couldn’t get enough of her. And if her wails of pleasure acted as any indication, the feeling was mutual. Clara couldn’t help but compare the on-screen enactment to her own decidedly less enthusiastic experiences.

She had a problem. Josh repositioned on screen. A huge problem.

Either Josh Darling had transcended her current definition of intercourse or someone needed to alert the Academy that he was the best actor in the world.

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.”

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