Can You Handle It (Naughty Bedroom Collection)

“Okay, I’m calling it a night,” she said, pushing her latest wedding menus across the coffee table. “We can finish the rest of these food choices in the morning.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Hey, tell me something.” She stood up from the couch. “You think if I paid for you to go back to that resort, you’d take a chance and sleep with that massage therapist?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

“Why not?” She smiled. “I’ve slept with a massage therapist before. They’re very good in bed.”

“You also married and divorced one.”

“Oh, yeah. Good call.” She tapped her lip. “Not a good move. Goodnight, Harlow.”

“Goodnight.”

I waited until she shut the door to her bedroom. I needed to do something about the never-ending ache between my thighs.

Slipping under a blanket, I mentally rewound to my time in Florida. Then I rummaged around my purse for the vibrator.

Shit. Where is it?

Just as I grasped it, my cell phone rang. Tyler.

I stared at it as it went to voicemail.

He called me again.

And again.

In the middle of the third call, my horniness got the best of me.

“Yes?” I answered.

“Am I interrupting something?” His deep voice turned me on with ease.

“Yes,” I said. “I was sleeping.”

“You sound wide-awake to me.” There was a smile in his voice. “Good to know that even after all these years, you’re still a terrible liar.”

I swallowed, letting his sentence hang in the air unaddressed.

His light laughter shattered the silence. “Are you going to ask me what I’m doing?”

“No. You called me.”

“I can’t sleep.” He gave me the answer anyway. “I’m up thinking about fucking you.”

“Well…” I gripped my vibrator with my other hand. “I hope you find something that can help you with that.”

“Or someone,” he said. “Be honest with me. Were you really sleeping?”

“No.”

“Were you thinking about fucking me, too?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. Is it too late for me to come over?”

“No, but you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m spending the night on your sister’s couch for the next few days.” I lowered my voice as if she could hear me. “By the way, she’s mad at you for not helping with the groomsmen cards.”

“Hmmm.” He ignored that last line completely. “If I drove over right now, would you get into my car?”

“I just said that Chelsea’s mad at you.”

“Would you get into my car, Harlow?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “I’m already outside. Come see me when you’re ready.”

He ended the call, and I rolled off the couch without a second thought. I didn’t bother changing my pajama shorts. Putting on a thin jacket, I slid my feet into a pair of sweater boots.

Within seconds, I tiptoed past the front door.

The lights of a black BMW flashed across the street, and I walked down the steps.

Tyler stepped out, opening the passenger door for me. I sat on the heated seats and waited for him to return to his side.

“I didn’t think you would actually come out.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “I was waiting for you to text me an excuse.”

“I came out to give it to you personally.”

He raised his eyebrow.

“I’m not sure how many times I have to say this to get through to you, but you’re my best friend’s little brother.”

“You keep saying that like I’m sixteen years old.”

“Since you brought it up, you are six years younger than me …”

“You didn’t seem to mind that when I was finger fucking you a few days ago.”

“Anyway.” I felt my cheeks burning. ‘The fact that I’m even out here says that I have some deep character flaws that I need to work on, so … I think we should stop this while we’re ahead, place the resort incident in the same box where the dorm room kiss in, and move on with our lives.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Anything you want to say before I go back inside?”

“Yeah.” He unzipped his pants. “Come sit on my dick.”

I sucked in a breath as he pulled it from his briefs. Thick and hard, it stood at full attention, tempting me to taste it.

Leaning over, I pressed my lips against his tip—slowly darting my tongue against him.

He pressed a button on his side, letting his sit recline as I opened wide and slowly took him into my mouth.

Pressing my hands on his thighs for balance, I guided my mouth up and down his length—taking him as far down my throat as he could go.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair, steadying me. “Fuck…”

I felt him tense under me, braced myself for him to come in my mouth, but he let out a low laugh. Then he gently pushed my head away.

“I want to make sure you come first.”He kissed my forehead and pulled a condom from his pocket. Then he looked into my eyes as he rolled it on.

Grabbing my wrist, he pulled me completely over to his side, positioning my soaking wet slit over him.