The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2)(62)
“I still wanna do this,” Naomi rushed to assure him. “Date you, I mean. I . . . like you. It’s okay with me. I get it. I respect your values even though they’re different than mine.”
“I appreciate that, but, Naomi, I think your reading might have given you a bit of a false impression. I certainly take sex, and all intimacy, seriously, but I’m not sure I know any Reform rabbis who saved themselves for marriage. Honestly, lots of the people I knew in rabbinical school hooked up with each other.”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “It sounded like you just said . . .” She trailed off, voice weak.
Ethan needed to make her understand. He took a long breath in and out through his nose. “Naomi.”
“Yes?” Her eyes were wide, and at this range he could see flecks of gold among the green.
He reached for her hand and ran his thumb across her knuckles. “I want you to hear me when I say this.”
“Okay,” she said, tongue dipping out to trace her bottom lip.
“If we’re going to date, I want you to know that I’m not immune to desire, and I’m very capable of acting on it.”
“I’m gonna need you to say that again, and maybe use smaller words.”
Ethan thought for a moment. “Okay. How about this? I’m a man,” he said, each syllable calm and clearly articulated, “and I’m going to fuck you.”
“Okay,” Naomi said on an exhale. “That was good.”
“Look,” he sighed, “I’m not saying it’s going to be tonight or even anytime soon. We can decide together when we’re ready, but I want you.” His voice came out a bit ragged. “Very much.”
“I see.” Naomi’s breathing was strained. “Thank you. For telling me.”
“Of course.” He brought her hand to his lips and placed a ghost of a kiss against the inside of her wrist before releasing her. “Glad we cleared that up.”
“You know, in that case”—she swallowed visibly—“there is this one video I like. It’s not a full scene, but it’s a self-pleasure tutorial we shot for Shameless a few years ago as part of a Getting to Know Your Erogenous Zones series.”
There was vulnerability written across her face, but also something hopeful, something fragile. “It shows how I like to be touched. We could watch it together. If you want?”
“Is that a joke?” Ethan was already so turned on from this conversation and her proximity.
And that was how he found himself sitting with scant inches between himself and Naomi Grant during the single most erotic experience of his entire life. Once he’d handed over his laptop, it took her all of a minute to find the video she’d referenced. Shameless must have a solid search feature, he thought stupidly.
The video she pulled up was labeled “A Tutorial on Orbiting,” a term he’d never heard applied to the female body until this moment. But before his brain could linger on possible definitions, he was greeted by the sight of a very naked Naomi Grant. Any blood previously powering his essential organs redirected between his legs.
“So that’s what my tits look like.” The fully dressed Naomi next to him gestured toward the screen, pushing her tongue against her cheek and fighting a laugh.
Ethan balled his hands into fists at his sides. She . . . there weren’t words for how perfectly crafted she was, for how hot and wild looking at her made him feel.
His brain couldn’t process the image on screen as a whole. It was too much. Too good. He took her performance in as pieces.
The artful curve of her wrist as her hand moved between her legs. The flush and sheen of her skin as she worked herself into a sweat. How she parted her lips on a tiny, gentle sigh as she set her tempo. The clench and release of her taut thighs as they trembled.
Lust rolled over him in waves. Crashing, again and again. Fantasy brushing the edge of reality and then carrying it away.
The way she brushed her thumb across her nipple. The arch of her back. Her gasps, high and needy.
Naomi shifted next to him on the couch, pressing her thighs together, rubbing a hand down her throat.
Why had he ever thought this was a good idea? What exactly did he mean to achieve by sitting here, in the dark, learning firsthand all the ways Naomi liked to be teased and stroked while she began to softly pant beside him?
“How much longer is this?” He forced the words out roughly. Any minute now, he was going to become so hot his body would turn to dust.
Observing the pressure and speed and depth she preferred as she tested herself with two and then three slick fingers. Watching her rake her nails across her inner thighs.
Ethan tried to focus on the pain of his dick pressed against his zipper. Tried to breathe through his nose. Tried not to make noises that made him sound like he was being murdered.
“Not very long. I’m close.” Her words pressed against his skin like velvet. “On screen, I mean.”
She was inches away when he turned to her on the couch. And the vision she presented here was almost alarmingly vivid in contrast to the one on screen. Pink cheeks. Wet lips. Nipples obscenely hard under the smooth material of her dress.
Ethan’s mouth watered. “Fuck.”
He had to call this off. Had to slam the computer shut and walk straight into a cold shower.
He couldn’t do this, not in front of her, not when he wanted more than anything to touch her, or for her to touch him, or—he closed his eyes for a second before forcing them back open—to be able to touch himself.