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“Oh yeah. This is way better than the usual icebox casting calls.”
“We’ve been in your shoes. We’re trying to make the process as comfortable as possible. Clara, I think we can move on to the next part.”
“Of course, sure.” Her grip made the paper curl. “Please make yourself comfortable and . . .” Good lord.
Josh touched her forearm. “You okay?”
Clara forced the words out over the ringing in her ears. “. . . and bring yourself to orgasm. Lube has been provided. You’re welcome to use any kind of reading or viewing materials to help you get in the mood.”
“No problem.” Marissa reclined on the comfy chaise Naomi had brought in and covered with a clean sheet and proceeded to stimulate her breasts.
“Oh dear.” Clara automatically raised her eyes to the ceiling.
Naomi cleared her throat. “If you wouldn’t mind amplifying your reactions? We want to make sure everyone’s really comfortable with vocalizing their pleasure.”
Clara forced herself to make eye contact with the performer as Marissa gave a thumbs-up with the hand that hadn’t made its way between her thighs.
She’d never seen anything this explicit before in real life. Even though Marissa seemed like she was having fun, Clara couldn’t stop sweating.
“What do you think, Clara?” Naomi’s face didn’t look menacing, but Clara knew a test when she saw one. “Would you like Marissa to try any techniques in particular?”
“No, I think this is fine. Good, I mean.”
Naomi nodded. “Marissa, feel free to improvise with dirty talk if you’d like.”
The performer let out a string of sentences that made Clara’s face go from hot to scalding.
“Please excuse me a moment.” Clara pushed back from the table and rushed into the hallway, following the frantic direction of her feet until she could pull fresh air into her lungs.
She closed her eyes. Tried to picture Zen gardens or any of the meditation mantras from the forty-five-dollar yoga classes she’d taken in Manhattan. She couldn’t do this. The proof lay in her shaking hands. She’d been kidding herself. Kidding all of them.
“Clara?” Josh came barreling out the doors. “Are you all right?”
She urged her wobbly legs to a bench to the side of the building entrance. “I’m sorry. I thought I could
handle this. I thought I could be calm and cool and collected but I obviously can’t.”
Josh sat down next to her and brushed the hair off her sweaty neck as she worked to regulate her breathing. “No. I’m sorry.” His eyes traced her face and he ran his thumb up and down the side of her neck soothingly. “This is all my fault.”
His touch worked like a balm, calming Clara both physically and mentally. “What are you talking about? I asked you to make a website featuring naked people and then I got weak in the knees on day one.”
“There’s a big difference between theoretical nudity and the real thing. I knew that. You didn’t. I saw you blush the moment you realized we’d have to share a bathroom.”
She managed a weak smile at the memory.
“Now we’re trying to build this site and it’s a huge leap for you.” He tucked her hair behind her ear, fussing over her in a way that made her want to preen despite her humiliation. “No wonder the process is turning your face into a burnt tomato.”
Well, that’s an unflattering picture. “I should have prepared myself more. Should have, I don’t know, read a lot of National Geographic magazine.”
Josh’s eyes crinkled. He was trying not to laugh at her.
“Marissa wasn’t doing anything wrong or shameful in there.” Clara thrust her chin at the building. “I’m just still a prude.”
Josh steepled his hands. “That’s not such a bad thing, you know.”
Clara laughed, the bitter kind that hurt. “Sure.”
“I’m serious. It’s sweet and maybe even . . . sexy, actually.”
