Page 25 of Good Boy
As I drove to the house, the sound of my tires on the pavement filled the silence, amplifying the racing thoughts in my mind. The frequency of our visits to the family home hadn't been this high in years, not since Parker's death, and the more I thought about him, the heavier the ache in my chest became.
Pulling into the driveway, the imposing facade of the house loomed ahead. I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread creeping up my spine. Why the fuck did we have to do this tonight?
Darius loosened his tie, the fabric slipping through his fingers as he undid the knot. He shrugged off his vest, muscles shifting beneath his dress shirt. I tried to focus on the road, but my gaze flickered to him in the passenger seat. Shit, he looked good.
"Couldn't wait to get out of those clothes, huh?"
"Can you fucking blame me?" Darius said, tossing his tie onto the backseat. "Felt like I was choking all day."
My heart pounded in my chest, heat rising as I watched him stretch out his legs.Damn it, Weston, concentrate on driving.
The long driveway of the family home snaked ahead, and as we approached the front, something inside me snapped. I slammed on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt, jerking us both forward.
"Fuck, man! What the hell?" Darius shouted, water from the bottle he'd been drinking splattering across his shirt.
"Sorry," I said, but the apology was hollow.
In that moment, all I wanted, all I needed, was to taste him again. I reached over, grabbing the nape of his neck and yanked him toward me. Our lips crashed together, hard and desperate.
My tongue invaded his mouth, hungry for more. Darius responded with equal fervor, his hands gripping the back of my neck as if he was trying to hold on for dear life. It was a rough exchange, one that left us both breathless.
"Wes," he gasped when we finally broke apart, his eyes dark with lust.
Before either of us could say anything further, the door to the house swung open. The heat between us was electric, my cock pulsing with need. But as if sensing the imminent interruption, I pulled away just in time to see my mother descending the steps toward the car.
"She knows how to ruin a good thing, doesn’t she?”
Darius and I exchanged a knowing, heated glance before I stepped out of the car.
"Weston, darling!" my mother exclaimed, a fake smile plastered on her face. I plastered one on mine too, leaned in, and gave her a peck on the cheek.
"Mother," I greeted, before making my way inside the house, leaving Darius to follow behind me.
The sounds of clattering pots and pans echoed through the main hall. I hated these family gatherings, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice. At least for now.
Entering the dining room, I noticed they set the table for only six people. Strange. Usually, at the very least, there were nine settings for these dinners.
"Mother, why are there only six place settings?" I called out, my voice laced with suspicion.
"Pipe down," she chided from somewhere within the depths of the hallway. "You'll find out soon enough."
I gritted my teeth, annoyed by her evasiveness. Glancing around the room, I took in the familiar opulence that surrounded me: the polished silverware, the crystal glasses, the ornate chandelier casting soft light over everything. All this fucking wealth, and yet it never seemed to bring any genuine happiness.
Cynthia breezed into the dining room, her eyes immediately finding mine. She closed the distance and pressed a kiss to my cheek, the scent of her perfume momentarily overpowering.
"Darling," she murmured. "I've missed you."
"Missed me?" I scoffed, unable to hide my irritation. "We saw each other this morning. What's this dinner for?"
Her smile didn't falter as she leaned in, lowering her voice. "A family friend is in town. I had the driver bring me here a few hours early. It's important that we all catch up."
"Of course." I rolled my eyes. As if I didn't have better things to do with my time than entertain some long-lost acquaintance.
Before I could question her further, my mother entered the room, Victor Harrington following closely behind. His presence only served to heighten my annoyance. The Harringtons were another wealthy family that ran in our social circle, and I knew from experience that any gathering involving them was bound to be an utter waste of fucking time.
"Weston." Victor nodded, his gaze flicking between Cynthia and me. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight."
"Wouldn't miss it," I said through gritted teeth, forcing a smile onto my face. Inside, though, I seethed. Why did they insist on dragging me to these pointless dinners when all I wanted was to be alone with Darius?