Stuck With The Four Hotties

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 deja 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.Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

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.