Chapter Four: I Was Getting Hard

Damien Blackwood

I frowned down at the woman lying straight in my bed, wearing nothing but lingerie.

Why does it always happen? This is no longer a coincidence.

The last time I saw a lady who was half-naked, placing her legs on top of my desk inside my office, trying to get my attention, the next one was my business partner in a meeting—her legitimate daughter pulled her leg up to my dock, trying to get my attention also; another one was a girl I saw lying down on my chair.

Why are all girls the same? Why do they want to get my attention so badly?

I understand where all this is coming from: from my dad—the old man has been forcing each of them to seduce me—but I was not interested in them.

Wait, I never said I never had sex. I am still a man. I love intimacy, so whenever I want to, it’s just like an arrangement: you come at me and you have fun together. But no, child, I was never ready for anything serious.

But it always made my dad angry and caused him to complain. He said, "Get me a child, let him have one before he dies." Just look at his other friends; almost all of them have grandchildren. He normally gets jealous whenever he sees them and their grandchildren playing like kids in the garden.

I lost my wife early, so since then I have not yet married anyone else. That is what always pains my dad, which is why he always sends girls to seduce me.

I am 40 years old, lost my wife at an early age before she even had a child for me. It’s kind of embarrassing to say my age and that I am not married again, or that I am not in a serious relationship, or that I don't even have a girl I would call my fiancée.

Even when Dad wanted to use someone close to me to advise me to marry, I always turned them down, telling them I was not interested in any of those girls. Sometimes I call them trash because they were just after the money, not love; they were just interested in how much I was going to pay them or how much my dad would pay them.

Don't get it twisted. I have already moved on from my loss; I was just focusing on my business. So the old man thought that the loss was really affecting me, and when I told him I was not interested, he thought I was. I was not interested in older women, so he began to send young girls to me to seduce me and promise any of them a lot of money, anyone who could win me over and bear him a child.

But the deal was simple: I would spend one night with them and pay them off; it was just a one-night arrangement.

All my dad's efforts to make me marry and bear him a child were just in vain because I was never interested in the ones he normally sent to me.

I looked at the girl who was still lying on my bed, wearing her lingerie and trying to seduce me.

"Is this a dream?" she whispered around the room. "Am I dreaming?"

I know my dad always sends girls, but why did he send this crazy one? Is she that desperate just to get my attention?

I tried to reach out with my phone; maybe I should call my secretary or the receptionist. They should throw this trash out.

She should meet my dad and let him pay her the remaining amount he had promised her.

She looked at me again, feeling sleepy and tired.

How could I get involved with someone like this? No way; she is not even up to my standard. I can't get involved with her.

But this girl has a body that would turn a man's head: her slim waist, her perky figure, her pointed nose, her long legs, her grey eyes that sparkle, her long black hair, and soft lips that are slightly parted—she is just so beautiful.

Damn it.

I found myself checking her out before I could realize it.

"Am I having a wet dream?" She curled her lips into a smile.

Did she hit her head when she barged in here? She was lying in my bed, trying to seduce me, and she was behaving as if this were some fantasy.

I ran my hand through my hair. Damn, I didn't want this tonight; I was not ready to deal with anyone.

This was a mistake, another mess I didn't want to drag myself into.

In seconds, I was trying to reach my phone to call my secretary to come and clean up this mess and settle the remaining amount my dad had promised to pay her.

Before I could take a step, I felt her hands around my waist.

"Please don't leave me. This is just a dream, right? This is just a dream. Even in my dreams, they still don't want me. You don't know how useless I would feel if you still don't want me in my dreams. What am I supposed to do if the man in my dream doesn't want anything to do with me?"

I looked at her differently; she was lying on my bed, her face pressed against my abdomen, her hands tightly around my waist. From this angle, her face was close to me, and I could feel how tightly she was holding on.

Her warm breath brushed against my skin, sending an unexpected jolt through me.

"Am I not attractive enough for you?" Sue pulled her face backward so I could see her face clearly—her grey eyes and shiny skin. "Why does no one want me? I am already twenty-three…" she whispered as if she was afraid to say the words out loud. "And I have never had a man who truly cared about satisfying me emotionally. That asshole was my first, and he couldn't even make me feel wanted."

She bit her lip and looked away, her fingers trembling slightly.

"Even if it was just a dream," she whispered, "I will take it. I have never experienced what real affection feels like. I need to know what it feels like to be wanted."

My gaze darkened. I didn't know whether it was her words or the fact that, despite my frustration—despite every logical thought in me screaming to stop—I was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore her presence.

"Fuck.”