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Fucking hell, I was meant to be staying away from her. What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should have more restraint than this. I’m stronger than this fucking pull that keeps drawing me closer to her.
I walk into the bathroom and turn on the tap—obviously one shower wasn’t enough—before stripping out of my shorts. I throw them into the hamper and step under the hot water. My cock is half-hard again already while my head is filled with the image of her coming undone, the sweet fucking sounds of her pleasure.
* * *
“Dominic, are you ready?”my mum calls out.
“Coming… You know, they really should make a penguin suit that’s actually fucking comfortable,” I complain, pulling at my bowtie.
“Language, and thatpenguin suitis custom fitted, so stop complaining.”
“Sorry,” I apologise and don’t mean it.
“No, you’re not. Come on.” My mum holds out her arm and I wrap my own around it, escorting her to the waiting car.
Once we’re both situated in the back seat of the limo, I pour myself a whiskey from the mini bar. “What was this event for again? And who do I have to pretend to like?” I ask.
“Oh, I don’t remember who we’re seated with. But I’m sure you’ll be your usual charming self. We’re raising funds for my foundation,” Mum says.
I didn’t know she was hosting. And now I feel like a shit son for being so out of the loop. My parents have a foundation that provides free therapies and help for youths, particularly for those who self-harm.
“Sorry, I didn’t know it was yours,” I tell her. This time I mean it.
“It’s fine. I don’t expect you to keep yourself up-to-date on every charity event, Dom. There are a lot of them.”
“I know, but I should know about yours.”
When we arrive at the venue, I escort my mum into the room, and she takes the lead before sitting us at the front table. She claims her seat and I walk around the chairs, scanning for place cards while trying to get an idea as to who I’ll be forced to endure for the rest of the night.
“Where are the place cards?” I ask my mum when I can’t seem to locate them.
“There aren’t any. Just sit down. People are arriving, Dominic,” she says.
Weird… There are always seating charts at these events. I don’t question her though; instead, I do as I’m told while my knee bounces up and down in anticipation. I don’t like the not knowing. I fucking hate surprises and I hate people even more. So not knowing who I have to deal with for the next few hours has me on edge.
It’s not long before I find out though. And, honestly, I think I’d prefer to go back to thenot knowing. Because, as my eyes take in who is currently heading straight for our table, I want to walk out before I do something stupid. Like ruin this entire event for my mother—who just so happens to be looking at me with a mischievous smirk on her face.
She knew who would be sitting here all along…
Fuck. How the fuck am I going to get out of this?
By the time Lucy and her mother reach the table, I know it’s too late. All I can do is hope like fuck she doesn’t recognise my voice.
SIXTEEN
“Who are we seated with?” I ask my mum.
“My friend Ella and her son, I think,” she says, leading me to a table.
“Her son, as in Dominic McKinley?” I ask, recalling the icy gaze I got stuck in outside of the café the other week.
“Yeah, you know him? He goes to your school.”
“I know of him. He’s a little… strange,” I say, not knowing how else to describe the guy. The few times I’ve seen him around, something just doesn’t seem right about him. Yet I can’t seem to ever look away either.
We reach the table and I plaster on the fake, well-practiced, social smile of mine.
