In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,27

Not as many as I’d feared, but enough that I can’t quite write her off as a threat just yet.

“I’m gonna fucking kill those security guards,” Zayd growls, but I curl my arms around his bicep and draw his attention down to me.

“Don’t let them bother you,” I tell him, mouth pursed tight. “They’ll hang themselves with their own rope. We just have to wait.”

The boys exchange cryptic glances that have me wondering what the hell went on at that Infinity Club meeting. Whatever it is, if their expressions are anything to go by, I should be terrified.

Only … I’m not.

I’m not afraid of Harper or any other bully for that matter.

Not anymore.

“Come on.” I drag Zayd back to the hot tub, and the others follow.

By the time the edible really hits me, the Harpies are long gone.

I end up in a bed with Creed on one side and Zayd on the other. The music downstairs is still throbbing away, but the sheets feel so good beneath me, and I can’t seem to stop laughing.

“You are so high,” Creed says, but then he grins because he’s high, too. Zayd is watching us from the other side, his head propped in his inked hand. His Never Again tattoo is visible on the side of his neck, and I feel compelled to reach out and touch it, just to see if the ink feels as nice as it looks.

“Mm,” Zayd purrs as my hand slides up the side of his neck. He leans in for a kiss, and I swear, I’ve never felt anything quite like his mouth on mine. He tastes just enough like danger to be enticing, but also like surety. I’m positive Zayd is here for me now, really and truly. I don’t think he ever wanted to be anywhere else.

“You taste good,” I tell him as Creed rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. This is the first time I’ve ever really been intimate with one boy while another was close by. It’s … exciting.

“Do I?” Zayd asks, getting this cocky look on his face that makes me squirm. I’m still dressed in my lingerie and nothing else. It’s dry now, but my hair still feels damp. The lead singer of Afterglow reaches out and curls his fingers in my hair, teasing the rose-gold strands and then leaning down for another kiss, one that goes much deeper, our tongues tangling.

Next to us, Creed slides his hand in his swim shorts and groans, sending a hot flush through me that I don’t quite know what to do with. I’m still pretty new at this whole sex thing. I mean, a few times with Creed and a few times with Zack does not an expert make.

Zayd runs his inked hand down my side, over the curve of my waist, resting his palm lightly on my hip. Every place he touches screams with pleasure, and I realize Creed was right: I feel ten times as sensitive now as I did when I was completely sober.

A small moan escapes me as Zayd slides his hand back up, stroking my body and making me quiver.

“It really is exquisite, isn’t it?” I ask, and Zayd laughs. The sound is as musical as his songs. I want to listen to them all on repeat, over and over and over again. I giggle, and he grins, leaning in to kiss me on the collarbone, trailing his lips down and along the lacy line of my bra. The pale rise and fall of my breasts belies my outward calm and shows how truly nervous I am underneath.

I lean back a little and my body bumps into Creed’s. He groans, and I glance back to see his hand working furiously at pleasuring himself. As I watch, he finishes with a shudder and his body goes limp in the pillows. Pretty sure he’s asleep in like, a minute.

“The golden rule is: smoke first, drink later. Creed always drinks then smokes then drinks again. That’s his problem.” I glance back at Zayd and find him smirking at me in the darkness. “See, I told him you wouldn’t be coming to him later.”

“He looked like he was having a good time,” I whisper back, realizing in the back of my mind that I’ll probably be mortified to remember this moment in the morning. Right now, it all seems surreal and beyond exciting. I crawl over so that I’m straddling Zayd, putting my palms on his bare, inked chest