Mister O

Her words echo back to another I do, one I heard earlier in the day. We’re at her brother’s wedding, and I’m messing around with my best friend’s sister. For the briefest of moments, a streak of guilt flashes like a warning sign on the highway. Danger ahead. But hell, it’s too fucking hard to think of anyone except her when she’s with me. Truth be told, it’s not easy the rest of the time either. It’s like my desire for Harper hogs the remote control and flicks all the channels back to her.

Besides, Spencer takes off for Hawaii tomorrow, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Especially since Harper and I won’t hurt each other. We know the score, and everyone in our game wins.

I shake off any doubts.

I drag my hand down her chest, palming one perfect tit. “You want to kick our lessons up a notch and learn what feels good to you.”

“Yes,” she says, mirroring me as her fingers play along the front of my shirt. Damn, that feels fantastic. “And what feels good to you.”

“Let me think about it.” I sigh heavily and stare at the ceiling then back at her. “I thought about it long and hard—”

“Long and hard. It felt that way to me when I was riding you like a rodeo star.”

I give her an appreciative nod. “Oh, it is long and hard. Especially around you and that dirty little mouth of yours,” I say, running my finger across her lips.

She nips my finger. “I have a dirty mind, too. I just want to put it to use now. In every way.”

“You came to the right man,” I tell her. “And you came with the right man. And you will again, and again, and again.”

She shivers, then starts to unbutton my shirt. “But I want you to come, too.”

“Don’t worry about me. And yes, obviously, I’ll teach you anything.” I can’t say anything but yes to this girl. It’s like an affliction, the amount of craving I have for Harper. Any doctor would tell you the only path to recovery is to take a full dose of medicine. In my case, that’s her. Maybe I’ll take several doses, just to be safe. A few lessons and I’ll be cured, ready to return to us being buddies.

“I’ll teach you anything you want to know. Under one condition,” I say, arching a brow.

Her eyes widen. “What would that be?”

I clear my throat and adopt a teacherly tone. “I’m going to need your full commitment to the lesson plan for the next week,” I say, laying it on thick with the seriousness. “Can you agree to that, Miss Harper?”

She nods earnestly, sliding into her role in this impromptu game. “I’m a very good student. What else do you need . . . Professor Hammer?”

I smile approvingly when she bestows a nickname on me. “Proper focus. Diligent homework. Thorough preparation. And the willingness to be spanked if you deviate from the lesson plan.”

She moves in closer, loops her arms around me, and says in a deliciously naughty good-girl voice, “You can spank me even if I don’t deviate from the lesson plan.”

Oh holy hell. Harper Holiday is going to be a star pupil in my school of hot, filthy sex. “I’m giving you an A+ so far,” I say in my studious voice. “And I fully expect you to earn gold stars in my intensive course for the next week.”

She pulls back and speaks as herself. “But it’ll only take a week?”

I nibble on her neck. “When the cat’s away . . .” I whisper, hoping my meaning is clear. I speak in my own voice, so we're both on the same page. “It’s just easier for us to do this for the next week, right?”

“Of course,” she says quickly. “Makes perfect sense, Professor Hammer. Does this mean you’ll hammer me?”

She laughs, and I crack up, too, because at last the innuendo of my surname is being used with the right woman. “That’s a guarantee. In fact, I think we should start your coursework right now, and I have a very particular lesson in mind.”

“What is it?” she asks, a little breathless, a lot eager.

I lean in close to her and rub my beard against her cheek. “I want to strip you naked so I can taste every inch of your skin. I want to spread your legs, and make you come on my lips,” I say, as I bring her hand to my jaw and finish the thought, “and all over my face.”

She gasps, and her thighs clench against my legs. “Now,” she says, like a desperate order.

My fingers return to the zipper on her back. A new round of lust pounds through me as I slide it down, undressing her for the first time. But I only get a few inches when a loud trill sounds from the bed.

“Shoot,” she mutters and reaches for her phone on the mattress. “Let me just see who that is at two in the morning.”

She slides her thumb across the screen, falls to the bed, and throws her arm on her forehead, muttering, “Jen.”

She thrusts the phone at me. A text message flashes.



Everyon left. I thin I’m gonna b sick. Wrshping porcelain g d. H l p



I roll to my side, frustration thick in my veins. “Go take care of your friend,” I say, even though I’m thinking Jen is winning the gold medal for cock-blocking. “But tomorrow, Harper? Your first lesson is turning off your phone. Then you’re getting a full serving of multiple orgasms. Is that clear?”

Harper grabs the collar of my shirt, pulls me close, and says, “Yes.” Then she gives me the hottest good night kiss ever.

I jerk off when she leaves.

Obviously.





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