Mister O(40)

Her eyes turn into moons. “Did she teach you everything you know?”

I reflect on her question, and the answer is a big no. But she started my education in women. She was instrumental in showing me the ropes, and telling me every little thing that drove her crazy. I was a good student. I followed her directions, and it was the best damn class I ever took. Any guy who thinks he automatically knows how to please a woman is a conceited ass. Every woman is one of a kind. Every woman has her own titillations and turn-ons. From my teaching assistant, I learned the foundation—how to listen to a woman’s cues, how to give her what she needs, how to make her want more and more.

I don’t say that to Harper. I liked the conversation better when it was about us. “How would you feel if we stopped talking about other women?” I ask, echoing her sentiment from the train on the ride here. “I’d rather talk about what we just did, and what other things I can do to you.”

She swallows and takes a breath. “When I said touching your arms in Central Park was the most action I’d gotten in ages, I meant it. I haven’t done that much. But I want to, Nick. I really want to,” she says, her voice impossibly soft. “I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing.”

I tuck my finger under her chin and lift her eyes to mine. “You were amazing, Harper. You rode me like a champion equestrian. I loved every second of it. Wait. I loved every millisecond of it.” I shake my head. “Make that every nanosecond.”

She grins, then erases the smile from her face just as quickly. “Riding you was easy. But beyond that, I want to know what feels good to you, and what you want. And I want to know what I like. I can tell you what I think I like. My God, I love looking at dirty pictures, and sexy pictures, and naughty gifs, so I think I have a good idea.”

“So you’re not curled up at night with your deck of cards after all,” I say, fixing on a look of overdone surprise as I touch her fingers. “You’re saying you’ve done a lot of one-handed computer work?”

That naughty grin returns in force, shining at full wattage. “My web history is an homage to the hottest Tumblr feeds around,” she confesses.

“I’m going to need to see that. As part of this whole dating lessons thing. I need to know exactly what you’ve been looking at. And to look at it with you.”

“That’s what I’m getting at.” She stops to take a breath, then holds her chin high. “That’s why I kept asking you what you liked, and now I want to ask you something else, since you seemed to like what we just did.”

And it clicks. It goes off like a starting gun. “Teach you. You want me to teach you,” I say, my voice raspy, full of want.

Her eyes twinkle with naughtiness. “I do.”

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 f*cking 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?”