Tempted By The Playboy

Damon Walter needed a woman, and not just any woman though. A sultry blonde, and an epitome of suiting luxury and bodily perfection. A born beauty and a sexy hottie.

'It wouldn't hurt if she walks around all day in sexy bikinis either.' He thought with a ghost smile. But, he wasn't going to keep on dreaming, he needed one as soon as possible.

He called a number that had become too familiar than his', over time.

"Stella's Escort service," A female voice said on the other end of the line.

Damon grinned. If his escort for tonight could be just as promising as the voice on the phone, then he would be out of here by sundown.

"I'd like an escort by noon."

"Certainly sir," the female receptionist spoke again. "Whatever your heart desires."

Whatever his heart desired was to be five thousand miles away from this mansion situated on his father's island. But, he knew that wasn't what the woman on the phone had in mind. Still, she could help him get there, so he gave the receptionist an idea of the sort of escort he wanted.

"A flagrant sort of woman?" She asked doubtfully when he finished.

"In your face," Damon agreed cheerfully. "Over the top. But, definitely not subtle. You know what I mean?"

"Uh, well," the receptionist said, though she still sounded a little doubtful, as she was doubtful. But then, her business sense won. "I'm sure we have just the woman. I'll send her right out."

Damon gave her the address.

"I'm in the cottage behind the main house. There's an ongoing party by the pool, but it's perfect if she comes straight up the main drive."

Damon glanced at the group of partiers on the patio behind the main house -particularly at his stubborn, strait-laced father, who was carrying a footstool for Julie, his pregnant young wife - and flexed his shoulders in anticipation. The weight of his confinement eased slightly.

He'll soon let off this anticipation.

"Yes sir. I'll tell her. And I'm sure she would do just what you want, Mr. Walter," the receptionist assured him.

"Sure" Damon smiled in satisfaction "I'm sure she will,"

>>

It was close to forty-five minutes before he heard the knock on the cottage door. The knock he had been waiting for. It was a short rap. Brisk and casual, not especially sultry. But then it was totally impossible to sound sultry in a knock. Damon slapped himself mentally.

Maybe the gardener stopped her when she came up the drive, suspecting she was lost. She would hardly look like one of those guests coming for his stepmother's baby shower! Damon grinned again and finished stuffing the last gear into a duffel. He'd better be ready to leave before his father throws him out.

If he'd been able to drive, he'd have been gone long before this. But a car accident following one of the most confrontational arguments with his father a month ago had left him with a scar on both legs that limited his movement. The situation had given his father the opportunity he wanted, to nail Damon down until he would have no other choice than to become the chairman of Walter's international.

'Not on your life, Damon.' He thought now, just as he always did every time the subject came up.

'There would be six feet of snow in hell first.'

He hauled himself out of his chair to answer the door, thinking that if, in fact, old Thomas the gardener had stopped the lady, it would be much better.

He would for one, be stunned at Damon's ill mannerisms. But Damon didn't care, he has always never given a flying fuck about the impression people made of him. To be honest, though, he doubted that after thirty years in the employ of the Walter family, Thomas would be shocked by anything anyone did.

It didn't matter anyways. He only aimed at giving his father the biggest shocker of his life, not the innocent old Thomas. It was even too bad he would horrify all those women fawning and fluttering around his gorgeous stepmother, but that would be too brutal.

Damon was used to being the subject of titters and gossip. He'd cultivated the attitude of keeping bloggers busy with juicy content about himself when he had found out just how much it infuriated his old man. And if people didn't have anything better to do than fret about other people's problems, it wasn't his business.

Glancing occasionally at the window he waited for the escort. He heard a knock and then jumped to open the door.

He gritted his teeth when he saw the girl standing by his door. She wasn't what he had ordered for. Factly, she was a far cry from it.

She wasn't even blonde – or not very. Her hair was brown, but not dark, a deep shade of honey, long and pulled back into a french plait. She wasn't blousy at all, and neither did she look sultry. Her eyes were the only commendable things about her, still, she looked no more than a high school girl.

But she had nice curves, he'll give her that.

If this was what Stella escort services, called "sultry", they should be banned for illegal services.

Damon looked past her to see if anyone had noticed her come in. But none of the guests were interested in anything other than his stepmother's baby shower.

But - Damon smiled proudly to himself- his father had noticed.

His old man looked curious. He stood apart from the women, his body was turned towards the group sitting around the table where his wife sat still unwrapping presents.

His father wasn't interested in those. His attention was towards the cottage.

Good!

It would have been better though if she was just as he had described to the daft receptionist. But, she was still a woman, that was all he needed to rile his old man up.

Putting in his best bad-boy smirk.

"It's about time," He said to her. "but at least you got here." His voice gave nothing but anticipation.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Damon didn't have time for that. He was too eager.

"Come and show me what's under that innocent look darling," Saying this he hauled her in his arms and kissed her.

While all this was going on, the cottage door was open.

Looking above her ear he saw his father's jaw drop, and his eyes literally bugged. If he'd been closer he could bet his father's eyes were rolling.

He wanted to cheer himself up so badly. Instead, he made use of the opportunity. Wrapping his arms around her waist, she turned out to be more tempting than he'd expected. He slid his tongue through her parted lips as he gripped her ass and ground his body against hers.

At first, her body had been stiff and unwilling. A body that matched the hard girl attitude she was portraying, or not. But in the next minute, she melted gradually like ice, put by the fireplace into his kiss. She let out soft moans, igniting a flame of passion that surprised Damon.

But, as perplexing as the sudden change in him was, it gladened him that his wish was getting fulfilled.

And then, she bit him!

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!

She must have lots of credentials, Damon thought. He paused and corrected himself – must have had credentials. His father would not have picked anyone less than Mariam Webster standard to look after Alex.

"Sorry about that," he said, feigning repentance. In reality, he was grinning.

"There's nothing funny about your assault, I don't see why you're wearing that ugly smirk on your face." She spat at him viciously. "I have a reputation and a code of conduct to maintain."

"You know, lately, hickeys are the ladylike standards, and I'll be more than happy to give that to you," Damon said cheesily.

"Jeez!! Can you be grosser,"

"Oh yes dear, it'd be my utmost pleasure to show you." Damon grinned foolishly.

"This is no joke, I keep to my standard. Mr. Walter wanted me here by three which is why I am here just in time. Strictness, Mr. Walter says his son needs that."

Did he?

Damon didn't know Alexander enough to say if he needed a strict nanny or not.

"Hm. I'm sure you'll impress him." He said lazily. "What other qualities do you possess?"

"I maintain people's privacy. I don't go about kissing strangers and imprisoning them." She retorted.

𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜. Damon smirked.

"I'm sure you'll take good care of Alexander so he won't be a spoiled brat like his big brother, don't you think?"

The nanny gave Damon a confused look.

"Big brother, are there two children? Mr. Walter did not mention a brother."

"I'm not surprised," Damon answered dryly. He had never been a son to his father.

"But he did make mention of some Damon son giving him problems."

"What?!!" Damon yelped, causing her to jump in fright and agitation. Instead of answering him she folded her arms and pursed her lips together.

"What did you say?" Damon demanded again.

She shook her head stubbornly.

"I shouldn't have said anything at all. Not about the child or his behavior. I'm being indiscreet, thanks to you."

Damon wasn't listening to the rubbish she was sputtering.

"The boy," He growled, "What did you call him?"

Lucia blinked and wondered the reason for the sudden change in emotion. He looked like a human wolf ready to transform into a vicious monster.

But she wasn't going to let him intimidate her. She raised her chin and answered him.

"Damon," She repeated boldly.

He couldn't believe this! He gritted his teeth.

"No,"

"Yes,"

"No," he said again. "His name is Alexander."

"No, " she replied firmly, "it's not,"

She reached into her bag and pulled out the document she had signed with Mr. Walter. She wondered who this stranger was and why he was so concerned about who the son was.

She held it out for him to see.

"See for yourself. It says right there. His name is Damon. I might have gotten to the wrong cottage," She repeated.

His father must have been very angry. It is linked. The way his father stared at him when he had hauled her into his arms and kissed her.

His father had many accusations against him now. His disregard for family issues and properties, kissing a total stranger, his nanny to be more precise.

He couldn't believe it. The old rogue had really hired a nanny to straighten him out!

He was sure his father would be congratulating himself on this latest achievement of his. Damon gritted so hard that his teeth almost pulled off from his gums.

His headache returned at a high velocity now. He drooled his head back and shut his eyes, his mind whirling furiously.

"𝐼'𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒." His father's words were beginning to make sense to him.

It was all his father's doings.

"Mr... I'm sorry, I don't know your name.." the Nanny's voice broke through his bitter reverie.

"But you really need to let me go, I have to go to the right cottage."

Damon opened his eyes and glared at her.

She blinked again but met his glare with a determined look on her face.

Just how determined could she be? He couldn't imagine. But, he could bet he would run her off after twelve hours.

He put on his signature smirk. Did his father really think he was going to beg him or give up his rebellious ways and submit to him just because of a nanny?

Heck no! He thought wrong. He made the mistake of underestimating this son of his. Whatever he was paying Lucia Stones, it had better be a fortune, because she's gonna work for every dime she gets.

"You don't have the wrong cottage," Damon told her.

"But you said..." She looked around, confused. "Where is Damon?"

He smirked. A smirk of mischief with a wicked glint in his eyes. There was nothing pleasant about this.

"I'm Damon!"

She gaped at him. Her confused face made Damon smirk even harder.

"Welcome to your new job Ms. Stone. Obviously, my father had hired you to babysit me."

That was it! That was enough evidence to convince her that the man in front of her was a madman.

But he would be the most handsome psycho she had seen, ever. His beautiful hazel eyes and rough hand-combed black hair, with sharp definite jawlines, told of it. Not to forget the wicked smirk that always appeared on his face.

He kissed like ....

'Gosh Lucia, get a grip on yourself.' She chided herself. But the fact that she had never been kissed like that before remains.

She could bet, almost half of the women here in Los Angeles, California, would be fawning over him.

But she couldn't, she shouldn't. She was stoic and purposeful. No time for frivolities.

She had a job to do, a reputation to uphold, and was a role model to the younger generation.