The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2)(3)

“Right.” The instructor tugged at his collar and raised his voice, trying to rein in the room. “Anyone else want to jump in here?”

Naomi sighed and returned to the circle, letting the new tension in the room roll off her back. Her shame sensor had run out of batteries a long time ago. She’d made her career out of being an outlier, and a safety net out of being an outcast. It was easy enough to tune out the rest of the intros. At least until they got to a man who was way too hot to be a teacher.

He looked like a Calvin Klein model, and she observed that with the authority of someone who had fucked more than her fair share of Calvin Klein models. The shadow cast by his bearded jawline was ridiculous. She could wait out a summer storm underneath that thing.

“Hey everyone. My name’s Ethan Cohen,” the model said, “and I used to teach high school physics.”

Naomi immediately wanted a follow-up on that used to. Had he been cast as an extra? Those cheekbones deserved at least a hundred thousand followers on Instagram. Her eyes traced his profile as he kept talking. On closer inspection, he was too short and lean to be a model. In heels, she’d have the advantage. The chiseled sculpture of his face had distracted her inspection. That and the way he carried himself. His legs were spread wide enough that . . . damn. She couldn’t tell with him in those khakis.

Still, she smiled, target acquired. He was the perfect distraction from her occupational woes.

It had been a while since she’d wanted to jump someone the way she wanted to slither all over this guy. She loved her job, but running a start-up meant regularly working eighty-hour weeks. The combination of stress and exhaustion was hell on her libido. How ironic that satisfying sex was her life’s work and yet her last few months had been decidedly sexless. She smirked. Unless you counted solo sessions. Those were still A+.

What kind of underwear had she put on this morning? Certainly, if she’d known the day would present such delectable opportunities, she would have pulled out something set to stun.

Introductions wrapped, and Howard released them back to their seats with a wave. As the familiar scratch of multiple pens moving over paper lulled her into a daze, she sifted through approach tactics. Usually when she wanted to get someone into bed, she just took off her top to save time. One cursory scan of the room confirmed that plan wouldn’t fly in this environment. Oh well. She’d wing it.

But, as it turned out, she didn’t have to. While she packed her bag at the end of the lecture, a pair of khakis stopped next to her desk.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry to bother you, but I wondered if I could make you a proposition.”

Naomi raised her eyes slowly. Above his leather belt, he wore a perfectly pressed white button-down, open at the collar, though not enough to pay off the shadowed promise of chest hair. Once again, she lingered over his jawline. It was even better up close. She couldn’t wait to feel that beard against the inside of her thighs.

“Sure,” Naomi said, putting a little purr into the r. “Give me your best.”

When he smiled, his whole face went to work. Damn, this guy was trouble. It was a good thing she’d shown up as Naomi. Hannah Sturm wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Hannah would have shown off to get his attention, dropped her pen so he’d have no choice but to bend down and find himself face to face with her legs, for example—but Naomi knew that moves like that were for rookies. The key to seduction was to make the other person think falling for you was their idea.

“You mentioned you’ve had trouble finding an institution that will hire you?”

At least she knew one person had listened to her spirited diatribe. Naomi nodded.

“Are you still interested in securing a live lecture role?” His voice treated the matter with an appropriate amount of concern. Naomi appreciated that. She had found a new respect for serious people in her thirties.

“I am.” She paused her hand where it had been decadently skimming a path across her collarbone in casual invitation.

“In that case, I’d love to offer you a position to consider.”

Now they were talking. Luckily, she could forgive a slow start.

“Just one?” Naomi smirked.

He blinked at the shift in her tone but gave no other sign of awareness that he was receiving an opening other people would kill for. This guy was either immune to innuendo or so earnest it bounced right off him.

“Would you be interested in conducting a seminar on modern intimacy for my synagogue?”

That was—did he say—had she really been out of the game so long that she couldn’t tell flirting from . . . this? The reason for the goose bumps on her arms transformed. She hadn’t thought about synagogues in a long time.

When she spoke next, her carefully constructed walls were back in place.

“I can’t imagine a religious organization would offer me a more welcome reception than higher education, but thanks anyway.” She started walking out of the classroom, leaving him to lap at her heels.

“I can assure you that you’d be very welcome at Beth Elohim.”

“How’s that?” She threw the words over her shoulder.

Ethan managed to jog in front of her, shoving his hands into his pockets and offering her a weak smile. “Well, for starters, I’m the rabbi.”

“I’m sorry.” She stopped walking to gape at him. “You’re the what now?”