London Prep: Book Three Page 2

  Naomi nods, finally collecting herself.

  “Ready?” Mohammad asks, his fingers still resting on the shot glass.

  I nod, grabbing Naomi’s wrist and licking the salt off of it. When I set her wrist back down, Mohammad lets go of the shot glass. My lips wrap around the edge of it, and I throw my head back, downing the shot. The taste is strong in my mouth, and I move to take the lime from Naomi’s lips, sucking the juice out.

  Harry lets out a whistle.

  “That was exciting,” Naomi says brightly, sitting up.

  “Thanks for being my first body.” I grin at her and then bite my lip, looking toward Harry.

  I take in his brilliant blue eyes and wide smile.

  “You’re next,” I say, cocking my eyebrow at him. I hold his gaze as he takes a step closer to me.

  “We’re supposed to rotate,” Mohammad disagrees.

  But Harry doesn’t say no.

  “I didn’t realize there were rules,” I counter, trying to prove my point.

  “Of course there are rules. Besides, it’s my turn,” Mohammad says at my side.

  I glance over at him and roll my eyes.

  He can wait.

  “I’ll be quick,” I promise, gripping Harry’s sweater.

  I push him against the pool table, his eyes on me the entire time. It’s like everyone else in the room disappears, just leaving the two of us. I vaguely see Mohammad and Olivia from the corner of my eye, watching as Mohammad pours tequila in a shot glass for Naomi to take off of George. Or for George to take off of Naomi. I’m not really sure because I can’t focus on anything, except Harry.

  His gaze is on me as he strips off his sweater and white T-shirt, pulling them both off together, painfully slow.

  My heart is pounding when his shirts finally fall onto the table next to him.

  I take in his long, lean torso, watching as his abs become even more defined as he leans back until, finally, he’s flat on the pool table. He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes focused on me the entire time.

  And I don’t feel like we’re playing a game anymore.

  This isn’t just fun.

  This is … sexy.

  After how intimate things got on the balcony, I shouldn’t be surprised.

  But that’s what is confusing.

  I want Harry. I really want him. But I expected him to rip off his shirt, laughing the entire time. I expected it to be fun. Crazy.

  I thought he and Mohammad would joke together, fighting over who got to pour tequila on who and drinking straight from the bottle.

  But not right now.

  Right now, his eyes are glued to mine, and it’s like I’m seeing his bare chest for the first time.

  I shake my head, realizing that we aren’t alone and that I need to pull it together.

  “Hold it still.”

  I hear Naomi laugh next to me.

  She’s struggling to get her mouth around the shot glass because Mohammad keeps moving it. She finally throws it back before her mouth comes down onto George’s, retrieving the lime. She makes a sour face after, but her cheeks are flushed, and she can’t stop looking at George or his megawatt grin.

  “Ready?” Mohammad asks Harry, turning his attention to us.

  “Of course.” Harry nods, but his eyes stay glued on mine.

  Mohammad chuckles, his body shaking with laughter as he pours a shot straight into Harry’s belly button.

  “Hey …” I scold, wanting the shot glass. But some of the tequila drips down across Harry’s flat stomach, and my eyes are easily distracted by the droplet.

  “This is more exciting,” Mohammad replies, already looking a little too entertained.

  I lick Harry’s stomach, grab the salt and pour it on his skin, trying to stay focused on the task.

  “Hurry up,” Mohammad insists, his eyes glued to Harry’s belly button.

  I think he’s worried about the tequila spilling out.

  I just roll my eyes. There’s always more tequila.

  “Lime?” Harry asks, reminding me of the last thing I need.

  Salt.

  Tequila.

  Lime.

  Harry.

  I nod, placing it into his mouth.

  I lean in, taking in his scent. Cigarettes and alcohol. I lick the salt off of his skin, doing my best to go achingly slow. I want to tease him.

  George lets out a whistle, and I hear Naomi giggle next to me.

  Then, I move my mouth down to his stomach and start sucking. Harry’s stomach bounces as he laughs, and I can’t help but laugh too.

  Because it’s not at all as sexy as I was hoping it would be.

  I just end up making a terrible slurping noise, struggling to get the tiny amount of tequila out of his belly button.

  Finally, I’m up to his lips, grabbing the lime from his mouth.

  I suck the juice, my lips pursing at the taste.

  “Whoa,” I breathe out, letting the salt and tequila and lime hit me all at once.

  “That was the funniest feeling,” Harry admits, his nose wrinkling as he sits up.

  “You should have put the salt on his stomach,” Katherine jokes.

  “Care to show her how it’s done?” Collin questions.

  And before I know it, Collin is stripping his shirt off, and Katherine is taking extra care in licking his stomach. George, Naomi, and Thomas are watching her, chuckling to themselves.

  Collin must catch it because he points to Thomas, saying, “You’re next.”

  “I think the belly button was a fail,” I say to Mohammad, setting down the lime.

  “I disagree. It was hilarious,” he replies, shaking his head.

  Mohammad pours another shot of tequila. Katherine decides instead to balance the glass on Collin’s stomach, wrapping her lips around it to down her shot. Suddenly, her mouth is on Collin’s, taking the lime from him. He sits up, grinning.

  Harry’s still sitting at the edge of the pool table, watching, but he moves to get up.

  “Whoa. You’re not going anywhere,” I say, stopping him. “Lie back down.”

  I press my palm against his chest, feeling more relaxed.

  Harry grins at me and complies.

  “Olivia, you’re up,” I say, my eyes shifting over to her.

  She has her arms crossed in front of her chest, looking a little too detached and sober.

  “You’re serious?” she asks, her eyes growing wide.

  I roll my eyes at both of them. “Mohammad, she’ll have a double. She can handle it.”

  Mohammad smirks at me, pouring a double of tequila before handing Olivia the salt. She looks at it in her hand, glancing between the salt, me, and Harry.

  “Mallory,” Harry says, leaning up on his elbows.

  I push him back down.

  “Why not? It’s not like she hasn’t licked you before. Relax. It’s just a shot.”

  I look at Harry, wanting him to know that I’m fine with this. I’m not sure if it’s the shots or all of the shirtless boys or the late hour. Maybe it’s the flush on Naomi’s face and the sparkle in Mohammad’s eyes, but I want Olivia to have that too. She looks rigid, and I just want her to let loose.

  We all deserve to have a good time.

  “Fuck it then,” Harry lightly banters back, not too upset that I just invited his ex to take a shot off of him. “Well, come on, Olivia. Let’s crack on.”

  I nod for her to scoot closer, and for a minute, I wonder if I made a huge mistake.

  But she breaks a smile, and I know that she’s not reading that much into it.

  “Fine,” she says, like she’s not the least bit interested. But she moves to the edge of the pool table and pours a line of salt onto Harry’s stomach. Mohammad places the shot next to the salt. I put a lime in his mouth and smile at him.

  I want him to know that this is okay.

  To have fun.

  His eyes stay on mine, but a second later, Naomi is hooting as Olivia licks the salt, throwing back the dou
ble.

  And I have to admit, I’m impressed.

  She grabs the lime from Harry’s lips without issue, and a second later, he’s sitting back up.

  “That was hot,” Mohammad says next to me.

  “What was?” I ask, smiling at him.

  “The way she threw back that double. A true woman.” He nods, looking convinced.

  I pat him on the shoulder.

  “Mohammad, I think you’re next.” Olivia laughs after apparently overhearing him.

  “Hey, whoever wants to put their mouth on me is welcome to,” he says, shooting Olivia a wink.

  Olivia rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t look disinterested.

  Harry gets off the table, goes over to Mohammad’s phone, and turns the music back up.

  “I want another,” I say, walking up to him. I bite my lip, taking in his shirtless chest.

  “Is that right?” Harry looks down at me, tapping me on the nose with his finger.

  I don’t answer him. I kiss him instead. His breath is warm, and I let my tongue slip against his lips.

  “Mmhmm,” Harry says, sounding caught off guard. But I can tell he likes it.

  I bring my hands to his chest, pressing my fingers into his skin.

  “Mallory,” Harry says, breaking our lips apart, his hand coming down onto my waist.

  But I want him. I really want him.

  I lace my hand through his, pulling him out of the billiards room. I lead him down the hallway, trying to find somewhere private, where we can be alone. I skip the sitting room that I took Noah to, going into an empty bathroom.

  “Where are you taking me?” Harry laughs, amused as I shut us in the bathroom.

  “I want privacy.” I grin at him and push him up against the door.

  “Yeah?” he asks, tilting his head at me.

  His expression is light, but I can see the want in his eyes.

  “Yeah,” I repeat before kissing him again. I press my body flat against his, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

  I fumble with my dress, trying to figure out how to get out of it.

  I need to be free of it.

  I can feel Harry smile against my lips, and I start to wonder if he thinks this is funny. But a second later, his hand is cupping my cheek, and he’s kissing down my neck.

  I bring him back to my lips, letting my tongue slip into his mouth. Harry’s kisses are warm and reassuring.

  Which is all I need.

  I move my fingers across his chest and down to his belt. I quickly get it undone, sliding it from around his waist and tossing it onto the floor.

  “Someone’s serious tonight,” Harry says, looking down at me.

  I nod at him, not responding. A second later, I have his pants unbuttoned and am trying to pull them down his legs while still kissing him.

  “Mallory,” Harry whispers again, biting his lip when I finally get them off.

  “No more talking,” I argue, dropping onto my knees.

  I kiss down his stomach, liking the way he tastes like salt and tequila. I sit back on my heels, wanting more of him. I want to show him how much I want him. I let my fingers dance across the edge of his boxers and then glance up at him, connecting our gaze. All I can see is his flat stomach, hard jaw, and glowing eyes looking down at me.

  “Fuck,” he breathes out.

  I get my hands wrapped around his boxers, ready to pull them down when Harry lifts me up from the floor.

  “Harry,” I whine, “I want you.” I look at him, pouting, not sure why he stopped me.

  “Not here,” he says, shaking his head.

  His face softens, but his blue eyes are still glowing, and I can tell I’ve got him worked up.

  “Here,” I disagree, turning him.

  I push him down, so he’s sitting on the toilet, and I straddle him. My dress slips up my legs, and Harry’s palms instantly move to my exposed skin.

  “I know you want me. I want you too. Now the only thing separating us is this measly fabric.”

  I look down to his boxers, getting a glimpse of my own underwear.

  Just two little pieces of fabric that need to disappear.

  “What’s going on?” Harry asks, pinching my chin.

  I swat his hand away, not wanting him to treat me like a child.

  “Nothing,” I push out. I stare at him, wondering if he’s going to change his mind. If he’s going to let his hand slip further up my thigh and back into my underwear.

  But he doesn’t.

  I get up, fixing my dress. Because if he doesn’t want to do anything, then we won’t.

  But I’m not going to be happy about it.

  “Come here,” Harry says, taking my hand.

  He pulls me back down onto his lap, kissing me gently. I give in to his lips for a minute but then lean away.

  “I want you,” I insist, sticking out my bottom lip.

  “I want you too,” he agrees. “But not like this. It should be special for you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Special, special, special. I’m in a new dress. I have on lingerie.”

  “You’re not playing fair,” Harry groans, his eyes slipping back down my legs.

  “You weren’t playing fair when you stripped naked in front of me earlier tonight. This is your punishment.” I grin at him.

  I stand up from his lap again, taking in his darkened eyes.

  “You can even have a peek.” I lift up my dress and turn around in a circle in front of him.

  He bites his lip, shaking his head.

  “Very, very unfair.” Harry runs his hand up my thigh, grabbing my ass.

  “Is it working?”

  “It’s definitely working,” he says, his eyes on my legs. “But we still aren’t shagging in the loo.”

  “Fine,” I huff.

  Harry pulls his pants back up and rebuttons them. A second later, my cheek is back in his palm, and he’s kissing me.

  “I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he finally says.

  “I appreciate that,” I admit, still trying to figure out how to coerce him into going straight up to his room.

  But a second later, Harry is pulling me out of the bathroom and back into the billiards room. I barely have time to make sure my dress is in place before Mohammad is at my side.

  “Holy shit,” he starts, speaking a mile a minute, “I got to grab a lime wedge out of Olivia’s mouth, and I swear, she looked at me the entire time I was leaning over her!”

  Harry rolls his eyes.

  “I’ll make us a drink,” he comments to me before walking toward the liquor cabinet.

  “Really?” I ask Mohammad once it’s just the two of us.

  “Oh yeah,” he agrees, his brows dipping in. “She’s playing hard to get for sure. But I know she’s interested.”

  “Well, that’s good.” And I wonder if maybe that’s what I should do instead with Harry. Play hard to get.

  I glance over at him, and he smiles warmly at me. And I instantly know that the answer to that is no.

  Because Harry and I don’t play games.

  I take in his shirtless body. How his muscles snake around him, making him look lean and extended. Everything about him is tight and beautiful. And it’s funny because I’m not sure how someone with such a long, trim body can have such a hard, square jaw.

  But Harry does.

  “Obviously,” Mohammad replies, interrupting my thoughts.

  I fan myself, disconnecting my gaze from Harry’s body. “I might need that condom after all,” I whisper.

  Because I can more than imagine slipping it onto Harry, finally being able to feel every piece of his skin against mine.

  “Miss America,” Mohammad says, turning to me with a grin. He tilts his head, searching my face.

  “I know,” I admit, my eyes going wide. “But I can’t help it. He’s standing over there, shirtless. It’s torture.”

  “Where did you two sneak off to anyway?” Mohammad asks, leaning closer.

  “Well, after
the tequila and striptease, I had to get him alone,” I spill out, wanting to talk to Mohammad. My forehead creases as I think about Harry not giving in to me in the bathroom. “But he didn’t want to do anything but kiss.”

  Mohammad throws his arm over my shoulders. “Don’t read into it. I’m sure he just wants to chill before having that kind of fun.”

  But I’m not convinced.

  “You’re telling me that if Olivia pulled you into the bathroom and tried to take off your pants, you’d stop her?”

  “Fuck no, I wouldn’t stop her,” he says, shaking his head. “I think you need another shot.”

  “Can I do one off you?” I ask excitedly, deciding to ignore his comment.

  “Hell yes, you can.” He leads me over to the pool table and removes his shirt, dramatically tossing it onto the ground.

  I half-expect him to start dancing for us.

  “Oh Lord,” I comment, rolling my eyes.

  Mohammad’s pearly whites are out, and I think it’s the first time I’ve ever seen him shirtless.

  And I’m not surprised to find that he has rounded shoulders and a thin, tight waist.

  “Uh-oh,” Naomi says, bounding up to me. “Decided to go for another round?”

  I take in her pink lips and rosy cheeks. George comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. I search his face, finding his lips to be tinted the same color as Naomi’s.

  Hmm.

  “Well, someone demanded I have another shot,” I say, glancing down at Mohammad.

  Olivia walks over to us, looking like she’s lost in a world of her own. She has an easy smile on her face, her eyes drifting across Mohammad’s shirtless torso.

  “Where’d your friends go?” I ask George, not seeing Thomas, Katherine, or Collin anywhere.

  “They headed out,” he replies. But he’s quickly distracted by Naomi’s neck, kissing up to her cheek.

  She lets out a giggle, and Olivia looks like she might burst out laughing, watching them. I’m not sure if she’s repulsed or happy for Naomi, but her expression makes me laugh.

  I turn to Harry, raising an eyebrow at him. “Care to do the honors?”

  “Going again, are we?” Harry asks, pushing off the liquor cabinet.

  He fills up a shot glass while I grab a lime, handing it to Mohammad.

  “We are,” I reply.

  “She’s been putting them back tonight,” Mohammad says enthusiastically, taking the salt. “Where do you want it?”