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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.”
