“It’s not that,” Creed says, picking up another piece of chocolate. “Just … you sound so clinical. Loosen up, Marnye-bear.” He puts the piece of candy between his lips and leans in, kissing me with it. His tongue pushes the chocolate into my mouth, and I have half a second to decide if I want to spit or swallow it.
Whoa.
That sounded much dirtier than I intended it to …
But also … good question. I’ve never actually, um, had to consider whether I’d spit or swallow.
I swallow the chocolate, and exhale. Based on Dad’s experiences with Mrs. Fleming’s edibles, I know it can take up to two hours for the effects to set in. Please don’t let me regret this.
“Whoa there,” Zayd says, lifting up his palms as Creed leans back, smirking and sliding the fingers of one hand into the pockets of his tight black jeans. “I thought we were dating the good girl, Creed. Guess our new Idol Queen is a little naughty, huh?”
“Oh so naughty,” Creed drawls, making a show of licking the chocolate from his fingertips, swirling his tongue enticingly around each one. “Now, do you want to know why I brought up Pineapple Express?”
“Because … you like the movie?” I ask as Creed gives Zayd another look.
“Maybe not so naughty after all? She’s so damn sweet. Let’s poison her, Zayd.” Creed steps forward as Zayd grins and grabs me around the waist. Creed leans in so close that I can smell his cologne, even amongst all the other sweating students, and the acrid burn of alcohol that seems to permeate the air. He’s got that clean linen and sunshine smell, like sheets left to dry in the summer heat. “I mentioned it because at one point, Seth Rogen launches into a rant about how weed makes food taste better, music sound better, crappy TV shows seem better … It makes sex exquisite.”
“Seth Rogen uses the word exquisite?” I whisper, and Creed gives me this naughty kitty smile, like a very bad housecat. A very, very bad housecat with claws. Is it wrong that I want to get scratched? That maybe I even want to get bitten? “Because I have a hard time believing that.” Creed chuckles softly, just enough that his shoulders quiver, and then he shakes his head like he can’t wait to see how this affects me.
“Just wait until that edible hits you then come find me.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” Zayd whispers, nibbling on my ear and making me shiver. “Fuck off, Cabot. I’m taking Charity here swimming.” He grabs me by the arm and pulls me toward the pool. Miranda’s already out there, dancing on a table with a bottle of champagne in one hand. Creed follows along and then pauses with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he stops to guard his twin from unruly guys. Jesus, it’s like a rap video in here or something. Or should I say rock video?
Tristan’s already in the hot tub, his head thrown back on the pavement behind him, his arms stretched out on either side of his body. He must’ve wandered off during the edible conversation because I swear, he was right behind us.
Windsor and Zack are still close by which is a good thing, too, because I almost lose my shit when I see Lizzie climbing into the hot tub in a tiny bikini and scooting up close to Tristan.
“What is she doing?” I whisper as Windsor comes up to stand on my right side.
“She’s fighting, love,” he tells me, giving me a look. “She wants him—almost desperately so.”
I purse my lips and reach down to tear my dress over my head. Zayd and Zack both make shocked noises under their breath, but Windsor doesn’t seem surprised. This is ridiculous; I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m not even wearing a bathing suit under my dress, just sexy black panties and a push-up bra that I don’t even really need. Miranda insisted I wear it though.
“Come on,” I tell the other boys, moving around to climb into the hot tub on Tristan’s other side. He cracks a single gray eye to look at me and then lifts his head up.
“Is that a bathing suit?” The sharp tone of his voice says he doesn’t think it is one.
“No.” That’s all I say, sitting there in the hot, hot water as my body starts to tingle and I realize that this particular edible does not have a two hour activation time. Oh no, it’s much, much faster. Uh-oh. “Also, I just ate my first edible.”
One of Tristan’s perfectly curved dark brows lifts up in surprise. Zayd tosses his shirt aside, peels off his jeans, and … I glance over and see his dick, right there in my face. Like, literally, he’s just gotten naked and is climbing in the hot tub. I see parts of him I’ve only dreamed of.
I mean … did I say dreamed of? Haha, no. Err, well, in the interest of being truthful, I might have.
Fine, okay, I definitely have dreamed about a naked Zayd Kaiser.
He’s got a really nice dick, my mind supplies as I catch sight of a small piercing on the tip. My cheeks flame as he slides in beside me. This is really looking like déjà vu here, I think as I remember sitting naked on Creed’s lap in a hot tub very similar to this one.
“You ate an edible?” Tristan asks, blinking at me. “You did?”
“Yeah, so?” I shrug, trying to look cool. People are staring at me like maybe I am, tucked in a hot tub between one naked guy and another who … I look down and there’s this brief moment where the bubbles part, and I swear it’s like a pre-destined moment designed to show off Tristan’s cock.
Oh.
Oh my.
I lounge back in my lingerie and run my tongue over my teeth to make sure there aren’t any lipstick smudges. Windsor, Zack, and eventually Creed and Miranda join us. Creed is desperately trying to wrangle his drunk sister, but I’d rather she sit on the edge of this hot tub than run off into the heat of the party.
Lizzie stares at me like she’s never seen me before.
“Oh, this is going to be good,” Tristan murmurs, smirking and giving Zayd a look. “I take it this is your doing?”
“Might’ve had a little help from Creed,” Zayd says with a shrug, lighting up a joint with a lighter he pulled from his discarded pants’ pocket. He takes a puff and passes it to Windsor. The prince takes two puffs and continues passing. Zack is the only one who declines.
“Drug testing blows,” he says, shaking his head. “And if all goes right these next few games, I’ll be scouted for … a university.” He trails off and looks away, face tight, like he’s deep in thought about something. He’s taken his shirt off and climbed in wearing his shorts. I swear to god, he’s got the widest, sexiest chest I’ve ever seen. It’s pretty obvious he’s a hardcore athlete.
“We’re poisoning Marnye, slowly but surely,” Creed murmurs, grabbing onto Miranda’s arm when she tries to wander off again. She glares at him and takes another swig of her champagne.
“Poisoning her, huh?” Lizzie says with a smile, resting a hand on Tristan’s shoulder. He stiffens up and his face goes very still, but she doesn’t seem to notice. It makes me afraid to touch him. Does he not want to be touched at all? Or maybe … he just doesn’t want to be touched by her? I can’t tell. I can’t tell! And it’s freaking killing me. “How so?”
“That’s a secret, and not for you to know,” Zayd says with a smirk, and I see that cruel streak of his rising to the surface. Lizzie stares him down, narrowing her eyes slightly, and I remember the story about her dating all the boys one fateful summer. Surely that was just a sweet junior high crush sort of a thing, right?
Lizzie opens her mouth to speak when Zayd’s green eyes lift up and widen. His mouth tightens into a flat line.
“Boys, we’ve got trouble.” He shoves up and out of the hot tub, his dick shimmering with warm water and bumping against my elbow. I almost scream, but like, in a good way. Pretty sure the edible is setting in. I feel lightheaded and giddy, like I want to laugh at everything.
“Trouble?” I echo, way too slow. Windsor is up, too. Even Tristan is standing up and whipping a towel around his body so quickly that I don’t see a thing.
I glance over and find Harper, Becky, and Ileana standing beside the hot tub. They’ve got a full crew behind them, too.
My list flashes in my mind, like it’s been burned into my brain.
Revenge On The Bluebloods of Burberry Prep
A list by Marnye Reed
The Harpies: Harper du Pont, Becky Platter, and Ileana Taittinger
The Company: Abigail Fanning, Valentina Pitt, Mayleen Zhang, Jalen Donner, and Kiara Xiao
They’re all here, every last one of them, and then some. They’ve recruited plenty of new students, hungry for a view from the top.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house? This is most definitely not an Infinity Club party. Get the hell out.”
“Your door security could use some fortifying,” Harper says, her hair long and luxurious, fresh extensions in a juicy bloodred color trailing over her shoulders. She’s not the only one: all the girls are sporting either wigs or extensions again. They’re like dandelions, getting trampled down and springing right back up. “We’re here because we’re making a stand.”
“Is that so?” Tristan asks, voice cool and even. I see his hands quivering as he struggles to keep from balling them into fists.
“Quiet, Working Boy,” Harper snaps, her voice commanding authority as she sneers at Tristan. “We weren’t happy with one charity case at our school and now we have two? What are you trying to do, cheapen the reputation of the academy so the rest of us suffer?”
“Oh, but darling, you’ve already done that.” Tristan folds one arm over his middle, resting the elbow of the other in the palm of his hand, so he can gesture at her with long, elegant fingers. “Your decorum is poor, your breeding substandard, and quite frankly, you’re a dumb bitch that nobody likes. If you consider yourself one of the best at the academy, then the great reputation of Burberry Prep is already suffering.”
Harper sneers at him and steps forward, but Zayd cuts her off.