In pain, Damon yelped.
He jerked back with full force, whipping his thin lips.
And, gosh!!
He was bleeding. She had really bitten him.
"What the heck," He glared at her in shock.
"You won't get many jobs if you go about biting your clients, lady," he spat.
"Oops, my bad. I'm not really into kissing jobs, you know, they aren't my preferred kind of job."
"Oh!" Damon exclaimed. "You want something extra then," Damon asked, really annoyed.
"You would prefer to have sex without kissing me, huh?"
"I would do no such thing," The girl screeched in horror, her nose flaming red with anger.
"Hol up there. I think you are taking this prissy attitude too damn far, you can drop it now." She wasn't going to ruin his plans for him. He wanted to show his father how much of a man he was gradually becoming.
By flaunting a high-priced prostitute?
He was sure she wouldn't be getting paid by the time he reported her to the Agency.
"What prissy attitude are you talking about?" She sputtered.
Damon sighed in frustration "Some men may find your fetish attitude sexy, but sweetheart, I don't!"
He glanced in the direction of the pool, they already had lots of onlookers including his father who was obviously dumbfounded.
Maybe all hope wasn't lost.
Damon grabbed her roughly by the wrist,
"Come on"
Confused, the girl tried to jerk free from his grip, twisting sideways. One palm held both her arms, and he pulled her closer using his free one so that they appeared physically comfortable to the party of spectators.
With one leg in a cast and his arms still healing from the accident, he wasn't fit enough to hold her for a long time, so he shut the door closed, using his good foot.
He let her go at once and shut his eyes.
Damn it!
He had not really gotten used to doing physical things for a while. He did nothing more than eat, sleep and argue with his father in the two weeks he has been out of the hospital.
Damn! He never felt this weak before. His head was throbbing again just as it did almost every time he tried to get involved in any physical activities.
"And what do you think you are doing?" His fetish lady raged at him. "Open this door, I'm leaving now!!"
Such audacity, he thought.
"No!"
Her blue eyes widened.
"Sorry, come again," She asked him now, obviously ready to pounce on him.
"Just what you heard me say," Damon sucked in a harsh breath.
"You .. were hired here for a purpose and you are going to stay. Now, sit down," He said breathlessly.
She didn't.. she didn't sit down.
Damn it!
If his father came in now, he would make a joke of the situation.
"Damn it!! I said, "Sit down!" Damon barked.
She shook her head in refusal.
"I can't, and I won't." She answered firmly. "I have to leave. I must have come to the wrong place."
"No, it's the right place. Relax, damn it! How the hell did you get into this line of work?" He muttered.
She straightened up and glared at him.
"I'm very good at my job, unlike some gender who doesn't have a reason for existence"
She didn't look like it. But maybe when she strips off, she would.
They had shared such a heated kiss a few minutes ago. It was a big shame he wanted to enjoy that encounter again.
"Well, you have to show me how good you are," He drawled.
She wrapped her arms over her chest. "I don't intend to show you anything, your opinion doesn't matter anyways. I barely know you," She sassed.
"You have to let me go,"
𝑌𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠ℎ𝑢𝑡 𝑢𝑝! He exploded in his head.
"Sit down," He shouted.
The intensity of his growl made her shiver in fear under her fetish behavior. She sat down reflexly on a chair.
"Not there," Damon answered wearily. "He can see you there, sit on the couch,'
She didn't move an inch.
"He who? Who are you talking about?!" She asked calmly for the first time since she entered the room.
Damon didn't answer. He was in so much pain that he couldn't form answers without being harsh on her. He just stood, with gritted teeth and looked expectantly between her and the couch.
He couldn't do a lot of physical activities right now, the reason he was using his tongue to persuade the bitch to sit down.
"I don't know why you are doing this," she muttered under her breath as she got up and moved to the couch.
"Thank you," Damon said with a tight-lipped smile. When she was comfortably seated, he sat at the arm of the chair and adjusted the towel he was wearing.
She glanced at him, and her cheeks turned red instantly he looked away quickly, her gaze flying back to the door.
"Don't even think about it."
She looked at him, puzzled but she didn't do anything.
Thank God for that. The truth was he didn't have the strength to stop her.
Fortunately for him, she didn't move. She sat right where she was, hands folded in her lap as if she was some Sunday school teacher looking at him with a combination of wariness and expectancy.
To him, there was nothing sultry or attractive about her, except the way her lips had tasted when he had kissed her and that surrender. Now that he thought about it, he had the urge to do it again.
"You haven't been doing this for long, have you?
"Five years," she answered.
"Five years?!" Damon asked in shock.
"Oh yes! I started working on my master's degree. I have excellent qualifications and I'm very good at what I do," She stated firmly. "Plus, I have references."
Damon couldn't hold back his grin. "I'd like to see them."
Her eyes flashed blue flames at him.
"Unfortunately I don't have to show them to people like you. I still don't understand why you are keeping me here," She murmured. "I must have made a mistake and hit the wrong cottage. Please! I need to talk to Mr. Walter."
"You are talking to him right now."
"No, you are not Mr. Walter! I have met him before. Aging with grace and poise. He is much older and he has a mustache. He's……" she wanted to continue.
Damon sat up straight upon hearing her describe his father. She had met his father? Bloody hell!
He couldn't believe it. The old man might have had his side chicks over the years, but Damon never thought he would actually bring her home.
"Who are you?" He demanded.
"My name is Lucia Stone," she said proudly.
Which meant nothing.
"The escort?" He prompted.
"Escort?" Her brows furrowed in confusion.
"What escort? I'm the nanny."
The nanny?
Damon gasped in shock as he replayed all that had happened a few minutes back. He felt proud and satisfied. He kissed the new nanny. He was impressed.
He was just in towels and before his father he had kissed his half-brother, Alex's new nanny.
No wonder his father had looked so appalled.
This was going better than he had hoped. No matter how much his father had put him in the company, Damon never stays.
As far as he is concerned, Alexander, his four-year-old stepbrother, was the center of his father's universe.
Alexander was a golden child. Always cheery and smiley. Damon doted on him. He suddenly felt sorry for kissing the little boy's nanny.
He barely even knew his stepbrother well. His father did his best to keep them apart so Alexander won't be corrupted by Damon's negative influence.
Although he had never warned Damon in the open to stay away nor had he ever told Alexander that Damon was a bad influence, Damon didn't have to be told.
Nothing he has ever done has pleased his old man. Hence, Damon had stopped trying to please him along the line.
Now, It was, even more, fun and interesting being the ache in his father's aging head. As long as he could always walk out of the door anytime he wanted.
Since the accident, Damon had not been able to leave the house. As if the cast wasn't painful enough, the head injury he'd gotten from the car accident required him to stay on medication.
He couldn't drive until he had seen through with it, and his father had banned everyone from driving him. Including his personal chauffeur.
"You are making me a fuckin prisoner in this hellhole you call a house" Damon had shouted at his father once during one of their many arguments.
"I'm training you to be a good son, Damon." His father had replied. "Besides," he said scornfully, "you are jobless and useless, you don't have anything to do, or do you have a job?"
Damon hadn't replied that day. There was no point. His father had come to his own conclusions a long time ago that he was useless. Damon had accepted that without any arguments.
"It's time you settled down," His father had gone on not minding the implications of what he was saying. "But until you know how to control your own power, you'll remain here."
And that was it. No convincing or persuading him. Mr. Walter could not be convinced. That was the cause of their brawl. Like they had last week.
Mr. Walter had gone to Damon's room, to convince him to start taking over the company's operations.
"Start taking over your inheritance," he had said.
"I know all about my inheritance." Damon had retorted bitterly, not even considering it for a while.
"I'll make you what I want you to be! That's the last thing I can do," His father had promised as he glared down at Damon.
Damon's jaws tightened.
"I'd like to see you try it!" He had threatened in anger.
"Would you, son?" His father teased him quietly. "Count on it"
With that, his father walked away head high.
Damon had ignored it, ignored him. He was pleased, in the last five days his old man had been avoiding him completely. Guess his plan of making him who he wants to be didn't work out.
He was planning on getting out of his life, far away from his father, away from all the demands and lack of trust. Away from the bitterness and daily battles. Away from disappointment. He didn't need it, he knew that.
He wants Alexander to have all of it. The company, the distrust, everything that came with the package of being Mr. Walter's son.
He looked at the woman sitting on the sofa.
She really looked like a nanny or a nun. Haha!