In the Arms of the Elite (Rich Boys of Burberry Prep #4) - C.M. Stunich Page 0,70

then, take your pick, Captain.”

“Zack,” Wind says, because really, he’s the obvious pick for anything even remotely sport related. “You do know how to play, don’t you?”

“Tell me the rules, and I’ll figure it out,” Zack says, giving Tristan a challenging sort of stare.

“Zayd,” Tristan retorts, and the rocker boy makes a little fist pump.

“Fuck yeah, let’s kill this shit.” The two of them exchange high-fives as Windsor turns to Andrew.

“You’re experienced with polo, aren’t you?” Andrew nods and Windsor waves him over to his side.

“Well, screw you, too,” Creed says, taking up Tristan and Zayd’s side. He doesn’t even need a verbal invitation. The Idol boys might not like each other, but they stand together. They were even united in their cruelty. There’s a perverse sort of loyalty there, don’t you think?

“Miranda, my dear, if you would,” Wind says, and she squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. Tristan’s team is rounded out with one of the security guards, and everyone disperses to get ready.

Me, I end up being dragged to my room by Miranda and shown all sorts of articles on How to Dress for Polo. Like, really?

“You remember that scene in Pretty Woman, right? When Julia Roberts goes to the polo match?” I blink at her a few times, but I can’t remember if I’ve ever actually seen that movie. She waves her hand dismissively, parks my phone in my hand and points at the onscreen article. “Wear shoes you can walk on grass in, and something nice, but not too nice. You know what I mean?”

“Not real—” I start, but Miranda’s already sweeping out of the room to change out of her pretty fall-themed gold dress. I watch her go, sigh, and then sit down on the bed to go over the article.

An hour later, when we meet at the field, I think that maybe for once, I’ve dressed myself properly for the occasion. The boys’ eyes catch on me as I walk over to them in a short, white-lace dress with a cream sheath underneath. It only hits me at about mid-thigh, but I’ve got shorts on, too, just in case of a breeze. The top is long-sleeved to make up for the risqué length, and I feel like it has a seventies vibe—but in a good way. Paired with a big straw hat, and low-heeled flats, I think I look pretty cute.

“Fuckable, as usual,” Zayd purrs, and my cheeks flush as I give him a look and then flip him off. He just laughs at me and scoops me off my feet, spinning me around in a circle and then growling in my ear, so low that I know only I can hear it. “I’m looking for a repeat performance of the concert. Don’t leave me hanging, Charity.”

I smack him in the chest, and he sets me on my feet, almost triumphantly.

“Are you guys really gonna play a game without a bet?” I ask Zack, as Windsor comes trotting over on the back of his beautiful black horse. Apparently its name is Bergamot. You know, like bergamot oil in earl grey tea. Not surprising, right?

“Pretty sure this whole game is about showing off whose cock is the biggest,” Zack says, eyes narrowed as he glances over at the prince.

“Well, she hasn’t seen mine, but how about the rest of them?” Wind asks, swinging his, erm, polo stick up over his shoulder. I have no idea what the damn thing is called. It looks like a long, skinny croquet mallet. I’m having a hard time worrying about polo terminology however, because I can’t stop staring at the boys in their outfits.

They’ve all got on tight pants, riding boots, and button-up jackets with polo shirts underneath. At least this time, they’re wearing helmets I think, trying to decide who looks hottest in their uniform. It’s impossible to tell.

“Um, this girl doesn’t kiss and tell,” I say, and then pause, frowning. “Well, okay, so I tell you guys once that I’m sexually active with the new boy, but …” Windsor laughs and taps my hat gently on the brim with his polo stick. Sounded dirty, huh? I thought so, too.

“I love the hat, Milady. You’re a vision.” He grins, and I find my eyes drawn up to him, perched atop the rippling ebony muscles of his horse. His pants are white, and beyond tight, with a leather strip on the side of each leg and under the crotch. The boots he’s wearing remind me of the ones