London Prep: Book Three Read online

  “How about your hand?” I comment, keeping my eyes on Harry.

  He brings the shot glass to the table, turning his attention to Mohammad.

  “How about not?” Mohammad replies, wetting down a piece of his stomach, adding salt.

  I narrow my eyes at him, but he just chuckles.

  “Let’s keep it in the shot glass this time. I don’t really feel like sucking tequila out of Mohammad’s belly button. No offense.”

  Besides the fact that it’s slightly gross, I have no idea who else’s mouth has been on him. And I would rather not think about it.

  “None taken,” he replies. “But so you know, every shower I have, I clean my belly button as well. No bits left unscrubbed.”

  I laugh, thinking about Mohammad in the bathroom. I can imagine him fussing over everything—from making sure he gets every part squeaky clean to leaving the conditioner in long enough for it to have its softening effect.

  “Always good to know,” I reply, popping the lime into Mohammad’s mouth. I lick the salt off the side of his stomach and then wrap my mouth around the shot glass, throwing it back.

  The taste is stronger than I remember, and I blink a few times, moving to Mohammad’s mouth to get the lime and kill the taste.

  But all of a sudden, Mohammad starts talking, causing the lime to fall, and I end up with my lips directly on his.

  I stay on his mouth for only a second, momentarily shocked, before ripping my face away.

  My eyes grow into saucers, my mouth falling open.

  “Mohammad!” I start, but he looks equally as stunned.

  His expression is a mixture of shocked and distraught, like he just saw his sister naked on accident or something.

  “You kissed me,” he says, sitting up.

  “I didn’t mean to kiss you,” I argue back. “You dropped the lime!”

  Harry buckles over in laughter.

  Olivia and Naomi are both laughing now, too, mostly from watching Harry, who is practically crying.

  “You put it in backward,” Mohammad states, raising his hands in front of him.

  I roll my eyes at him.

  He glances over to Harry, a grin pulling at his lips, and I know he’s already come up with a way to twist what just happened.

  “If you wanted to kiss me, you could have just asked, you know,” Mohammad says, practically beaming now.

  I shake my head, not letting this feed his ego.

  “You should have seen Mohammad’s face,” Harry says, finally catching his breath. His cheeks are tinted red, his chest still heaving. “His eyes were open the entire time. He looked like he was snogging his gran.”

  “Always appreciate the compliment,” I say under my breath.

  Harry wraps his arm around me, pulling me against his side.

  We move toward the couches. Apparently, me kissing Mohammad took it out of everyone, and we all sit down with a collective sigh.

  I drop onto the couch effortlessly, curling up next to Harry. Mohammad and Olivia sit down on another sofa together, and he drapes his arm around her. She looks tired, and she leans into him. Naomi and George are already kissing.

  “This is nice.” I smile, feeling my eyes form into little slits. I lean my head back, falling against Harry’s strong arm.

  I’m not tired, but Harry is warm and it’s dark and I just want to absorb everything.

  To sit here happily with him.

  The alcohol settles into me, and it makes me feel really relaxed.

  I lazily run my hand over Harry’s arm, my eyes slipping up his skin. And suddenly, I can’t stay seated next to him.

  I press my mouth onto his, sliding onto his lap.

  I can’t help it.

  Harry kisses me back, his hand coming up into my hair, running down my back.

  But then he pulls away.

  “I think we need to get you up to bed,” Harry comments, those blue eyes giving nothing away.

  Yes, let’s go to bed!

  I wiggle my eyebrows at him, and I’m trying so hard not to burst out into a full grin. “Finally.”

  Harry chuckles at me. “Someone looks like they plan on misbehaving,” he whispers, his arm wrapping around my waist.

  He pulls me up off the couch, and I lean into him, letting him steady me.

  My head feels foggy, but I let the fog stay. Because as long as I have Harry, it doesn’t matter if my head is foggy. Or that my arms and legs seem to be heavier than before, like they’re filled with sand.

  “You’re so helpful,” I sigh, putting my head against his shoulder.

  “It’s not a problem,” Harry says, holding me firmly.

  “Good night,” I call out, waving at everyone still in the room. Which I guess is just Olivia, Naomi, George, and Mohammad.

  Hmm. I’m not sure where the others went. Did George say they left? I can’t remember.

  But I give them a wave, too, just in case I can’t see them. Maybe they will be able to sense it.

  “I’m getting this one up to bed,” Harry says when Mohammad stands up, walking toward us.

  “Good night, Miss America.” Mohammad smiles at me.

  And I instantly want to fall into that smile.

  I pick my head up off Harry’s shoulder, my hands aching to be around Mohammad. I hug him tightly.

  “Steady on,” Harry comments, his hand on my arm.

  “Good night,” I say, squeezing Mohammad.

  I let go of him, letting Harry lead me out of the room.

  “Let’s get some water first,” he says, taking my hand and leading me into the kitchen.

  Next thing I know, he has me seated up on the counter and is digging through the fridge.

  A second later, he has a water bottle in my hand, making me hold it up to my lips.

  “I can do it,” I whine, letting the cold water fill my mouth.

  “I know you can,” Harry says, moving between my thighs.

  He watches the bottle at my lips, and my eyes easily move across his strong jaw. I set the water down, my fingers aching to be on Harry’s cheeks instead. My hands fall down his neck and onto his shoulders, my thumb rubbing across his collarbone.

  Harry lets out a groan, his eyelashes fluttering closed. I watch his blond lashes, pretending that they aren’t inches away from me but tickling my cheeks instead.

  “Mallory,” Harry whispers, gazing directly at me.

  I look between his eyes and his lips, wanting him to make a move.

  Wanting his lips to be the ones to press hard into mine.

  I want to taste how much he wants me.

  Because Harry’s the master of nonchalant. It’s like the first day we met. He kissed me right away. He put his hand down my shirt on the double-decker, a silly grin on his face. He’s always doing what he wants but in a way that makes you not sure if he’s just trying to get away with it or if that’s actually what he desires.

  My hands leave his collarbone, my finger coming up to his lips. I trace their outline over and over, my finger moving up before dipping down at the center, just to go up again. His lips are long and beautiful.

  I flick my gaze up to Harry’s just as he takes my wrist in his hand, pulling it away from his lips.

  A second later, his mouth is crashing against mine, his tongue pushing my lips apart. I open my mouth, feeling my skin tingle. He drops my wrist, his arms sliding around me.

  He moves me toward the edge of the counter as I wrap my legs around his waist.

  All I can feel are his hips pressing into mine, and I moan into his mouth at the sensation.

  “I want you naked. Now,” I whisper, biting his lip.

  “Here?” Harry asks, practically panting.

  “What’s a kitchen good for, if not this?” I ask, letting my hands slip up into his hair.

  “Food.” He chuckles against my mouth.

  “I could be your dessert,” I push, my lips trailing down across his jaw.

  “You’re relentless tonight.”

 
“I thought you were the one who wanted me naked and covered in chocolate. Or did you have a different idea when you came up with date night delight?”

  “You have a good point.” He shakes his head, and then suddenly, his hand is moving under my dress, his fingers slipping into my underwear.

  I gasp at the sensation as his lips press into the skin at the nape of my neck.

  I lean my head back, letting the feeling overcome me.

  Because this is what I’ve been wanting.

  I want sexy, I’m going to stand here and do exactly what I want to you, right here in the kitchen Harry.

  And he’s finally giving me that.

  I squeeze my legs around him tighter, his mouth finding mine. I trail my fingers down over his chest, my nails scraping against his soft skin.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Harry whispers, pulling me down off the counter.

  I wasn’t expecting it, and I stumble a bit.

  I laugh at myself, feeling lighter than normal.

  Everything is moving around me, like the world’s axis is off or something.

  I nod at him.

  Harry slowly walks with me to his bedroom, and I feel immense relief when he finally shuts the door behind us.

  “Here, have some more water,” he insists, handing me the bottle from the kitchen.

  I take a few gulps before setting it down on the bedside table.

  Harry’s bedside table.

  I smile to myself because it’s finally just us. No more excuses. No more eat this or have some water or not here.

  No.

  No more excuses.

  I move my hand over my shoulder, trying to grab the zipper at the back of my dress to pull it down. Because if I could just get this dress off, I know that I could easily win Harry over with my lingerie.

  “Here,” Harry says from behind me.

  He unzips my dress, but when I turn around, he’s moved. He’s over at his dresser.

  “Let me get you something to sleep in,” he comments, fumbling through one of his drawers as I slip out of my dress.

  He turns back to me, holding a T-shirt, finding me standing in nothing but my lingerie.

  His eyes scan across my exposed body, his gaze lingering on my chest.

  I smile at him. “Do you like it?” I try to pop out my hip, wanting to make myself look curvier.

  Harry smiles back at me, tilting his head. He’s looking at me almost like I’m a child.

  “You’re stunning, Mallory,” he says, extending out the top.

  I look down at it, furrowing my brow.

  I’m not sure why he looks so amused or why he’s holding out his shirt to me, but I don’t want it.

  I take the shirt from his hand and then drop it onto the floor.

  Harry cocks his head, his tongue coming out and licking his bottom lip.

  I take a step back, unhooking my bra.

  “I don’t want your clothes,” I start, letting my bra fall to the floor. “In fact, I don’t want to wear anything.”

  I watch Harry suck in a breath as I pull down my underwear, kicking them off from around my feet.

  “What do you want?” Harry asks, swallowing hard. His eyes scan up and down my body, his mouth slightly ajar.

  “I want to be naked in your bed,” I state, looking directly at him. I hold his gaze for a minute and then turn around and walk over to his bed. I crawl onto it and then prop myself up onto my elbows. “And I want you on top of me.”

  I watch Harry blink a few times. He brings his hand up to his cheek, running it down across his face. He lets out a shaky breath, like he’s trying to slow down his heart rate.

  I start to wonder if he might just stay standing like that forever, but a second later, he’s striding toward me.

  I spread my legs apart, so ready for him.

  He climbs on top of me, his weight settling into my body as his mouth finds mine. His hips rest between my legs, and I run my hand down his back, my nails scraping across his skin.

  Harry kisses me wildly, like he’s finally giving in.

  Good.

  His hand moves between us, finding my chest. He teases my skin, his palm gliding across my ribs and down over my hips. My fingers slip around his waist, and I try to grab his butt, but all I feel is fabric. Then I try to push off his pants, wanting to feel every piece of him against me.

  “I want you,” I mumble against his lips, finally just shoving my hand down into his boxers.

  Harry kisses across my jaw, and I can hear his breathing catch in my ear.

  “I know,” he whispers back, his voice shaky. He presses up off my chest, supporting his weight with his elbow.

  I search his eyes, trying to figure out why he’s pulling back.

  “How about, tonight, you just let me kiss you?” he asks, his blue eyes on me.

  “Kiss me …” I mumble, frustrated.

  I need to feel him.

  I want more than just kissing.

  Harry smirks at me, looking amused again. I’m about to tell him off when he drops his mouth down onto mine, softly biting my lip.

  A second later, he’s trailing his mouth down over my neck and across my chest. His mouth is warm and wet, and he pulls at my skin, sucking on one spot before his tongue moves to another. He kisses every inch of my stomach, his teeth teasing me.

  He scoots further down the bed, letting his hands slip up and down my thighs as he bites my hip. I suck in a gasp, the sensation surprising me.

  I hear Harry let out a groan as he picks up my legs, resting them over his shoulders.

  I tense up, my body not sure what to expect.

  “Just lay your head back and relax. Or you can watch,” he says, his eyes on me.

  But then his mouth dips between my legs, and my head instantly falls back.

  I let out a moan, the feeling better than anything I could have ever imagined.

  Because this is definitely not what I thought when he said let me kiss you.

  Saturday, October 5th

  What happened last night?

  9:30am

  I wake up with a headache. A pounding headache.

  Ughhh.

  I sit up in bed, trying to orient myself. I glance around, taking in Harry’s room. I bring my hands up to my eyes and rub them, willing them to open more.

  But everything hurts.

  The light coming in through the window is too bright. The sound of the fan, too loud.

  What happened last night?

  But suddenly, everything comes flooding back to me. Well, at least pieces of it.

  Kissing Harry on the balcony.

  Noah’s words.

  Crying in the bathroom.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and slip back under the covers, wanting to crawl into a hole. But I kind of already am in one.

  A fluffy one.

  A fluffy one that smells like a boy—that smells like Harry.

  I glance down, realizing that I’m in one of Harry’s shirts.

  I don’t remember putting on his shirt.

  I peek out from under the covers, looking around. Because where is Harry?

  I glance over to the bedside table, finding a note that reads:

  In the kitchen.

  Come down when you wake up.

  X

  There’s also a fresh bottle of water and an ibuprofen. I take the tablet into my mouth, trying not to cough when the cold water hits my dry throat. I want to lie in bed all day, never venturing downstairs, but I know that I need to.

  Not only because Harry told me that’s where he would be, but also because if my memory’s right, Naomi might still be here.

  And Mohammad.

  And Noah …

  I let out another grumble, not wanting to face any this. But I know that I have to.

  I decide to just get up and get it over with. I throw the covers off and move to stand up. But the small amount of motion sends a shooting pain through my head, and I grab on to it, wanting to cry.

  I move slowly
to the bathroom, almost tripping over clothes.

  A pair of pants.

  My bra.

  My dress.

  Oh my God.

  My eyes go wide as I take in the state of Harry’s room. Our clothes are littered all across his floor. I pick them up, hoping that at least if I put them into a pile, it won’t seem as bad.

  Well, at least, it won’t look as bad.

  I finally make it to the bathroom, getting toothpaste into my mouth and rinsing off my face. By the time I’m back in Harry’s room and I find a pair of pajama bottoms to throw on, I’m not feeling any more awake.

  Or any less hungover.

  I slip out of Harry’s room and can easily hear noise coming into the hallway. I hear a pot banging in the kitchen, and my stomach does a little flip.

  I’m not sure if it’s a you cannot eat a thing right now flip or if it’s a I can eat everything in my path right now flip, but I guess I’ll find out soon enough.

  I’m halfway down the hallway when I hear a door creak open.

  I stop, watching Olivia come out from a bedroom.

  And my first instinct is to hide.

  I go around a corner, not ready to face her this morning. Well, not really ready to face anyone. But I peek back around the corner, curious.

  Olivia sort of looks like she woke up with all of her makeup still on. She looks … perfect. Her hair is a little messy, but it’s got volume to it.

  I instinctively bring my hand up to my hair, patting it down.

  She walks in the opposite direction of the kitchen, so I decide it’s probably safe to reenter the hallway. I’m walking past the room she came out of when I run straight into a naked chest.

  A naked chest belonging to Mohammad.

  Holy shit.

  My mouth is gaping open.

  Because he came out of the same room.

  The same room.

  And he’s shirtless.

  Like, shirtless!

  My eyes go wide in shock. Mohammad steadies me and then throws me a quick wink.

  I’m so stunned that I can’t even say anything.

  I just stare at him.

  He squeezes my shoulder before slipping past me and into a bathroom. I try to push words out of my mouth, but I can’t. I end up forcing my jaw closed, deciding I need to get to the kitchen, where it’s safe.