After Divorce, I got the Billionaires sperm

Chapter 2

Douglas POV

The base booms from the live band can be heard even through our toughened glass that separates us in the VIP section.

I was bored.

I watched the people below on the dance floor, trying to choose a woman I wanted for the night.

Lately, I have been picky about the woman I want. I was changing, and I did not like it. I wanted to stay free longer, with no shackles holding me back.

My parents were nagging at me to find a wife, which caused me to start looking at women differently.

Am I subconsciously looking for a wife?

But the distinct change in my choice for the night had me thinking they might be winning and getting the grandchild they were longing for.

Last night I went home without choosing a woman, and it did not seem to upset me at all that I had not had my daily release.

"Come on, Douglas, choose already." Franco, my best friend and womanizer, groans at me. He has been my wing-man since college; we have even been with the same woman. Not that it often happens; it was more of a drunken mistake on his side. After the second time, he decided to pick a woman before he had too many drinks, so he did not choose one I had been with.

"I am working on it. I grunt back. It is hard to choose when so many are regulars, and I am bored with them. Once is enough, I do not go back for seconds, that starts to get attached if you do. They are all starting to look the same.

"Work harder, I need my fix." He was getting grumpy.

"Go and choose one for yourself, don't worry about me." His look was as if I had just grown a second head.

"Alright. Who are you? What have you done with Douglas?" He jokes back, looking at me as if I am possessed.

"Might give it a miss again tonight, just not feeling it," I say as I swirl the ice cubes in my glass, listening to the clink as they hit the sides. Trying to get my head around how much is changing.

How much am I bored by this?

I own six nightclubs, all doing very well. The VIP sections are sold out, and there is a waiting list for rooms. I used to enjoy watching people enjoy themselves, dancing to the live bands that had drawn in the regulars to the ground floor, following the bands they liked.

Franco finds a girl he wants for the night and drags her to the VIP section.

"This is Flora." I raised my glass to her, watched Franco sit, and pull her into his lap. She has an extremely short skirt, and from here I can see the color of her panties. It does nothing for me. I look at her face, which is covered in makeup, making me think she is younger than she is. I hope Franco asked the question and did not assume the guy at the door checked her ID correctly.

I flagged a bouncer.

"Sir?" He stood erect, ready for my orders.

"Check the ID of that woman on Franco's lap. "She appeared a little young to me." He picked up the girl's bag and rummaged through it, but she was too preoccupied with Franco to notice.

He hands me two IDs, one fake, one real.

"Take her away, and sack who was at the door that let her in." I won't have underage people in here. If the police send someone to check, I can get fined, and I don't like paying fines that I should not be getting just because my employees can't do their jobs.

"Hey, let me go." The girl squirms against the bouncer as he leads her away. She is too small to put up much of a fight, and her screams and demands to be let go are annoying.

"What gives? Douglas, because you do not want fun, I can't?" He looked pissed at me.

"Underage," I reply, making him go pale. He should know better by now to look at the face and check for age, so many try to act older than they are. Although I had thought none would get in here, I had increased the security. This club was my preferred one, but I might have to go to the others and check them out too. If the security had a bad staff member here, it could be the same elsewhere.

"Thanks for having my back." If I had been my old self, I would not have noticed. That is all on me, and how slack I had let things become. It's time to tighten up the crew and start checking that my staff are doing what they are paid to do.

"You would do the same if you thought the chick I had was underage. "Look out there, a nice brunette with legs that go on forever, get her, stud." I nodded to the dance floor at the woman who was just his type; I tried to get him back into the mood, and forgive me for spoiling his fun.

He is out of his chair and out the door so fast that you would think he had blue balls and had not been with a girl in a long time. I guess for him, one night is a long time. I watched him dance with her for a while and took her hand, dragging her up there. She seemed a little hesitant at first.

This girl was a woman in a mid-thigh black dress and black stiletto shoes. She wore ruby red lipstick and a little mascara. She was pretty in her own way. She was obliging, allowing Franco to kiss and grope her. I noticed her looking at me occasionally and wondered if she was self-conscious of what she was doing, which was not her usual behavior. That intrigued me a little, but not enough to interrupt.

Having had enough, I got up and left. Franco waved, and I walked by and gave him the thumbs up. He will take my penthouse spare room tonight. I was headed home to see my folks; they had more girls they wanted me to meet, and so far, none are even remotely interesting to me.

The driver pulled up for the long drive to my family's home. It was a large mansion on twenty acres, having been in the family for many generations. It had a generous forty bedrooms, twenty bathrooms, a ballroom, and I could go on. Each generation added something else to the home.

Who knows what has been added since I visited a few months ago?

I try not to come here too often. Mother is in my face far too much when I do. Same story each time.

It was late, and the family was all in bed. I headed to my room, stripped off, and threw myself into bed.

I was not really tired, but an early night might be needed because I am sure I will need to be well-rested to face my family in the morning.

Tossing and turning most of the night, I woke to the sound of singing from downstairs. I felt rough, and it appeared that going to be early did nothing for me; if anything, I felt like I had been on a bender all night.

I showered and dressed in slacks and a black shirt. I have clothes here. My mother believed I had not really left home if I had clothes in the closet.

Entering the dining room, I find Dad sitting at the head of the table, reading his paper as he waits for the food to arrive. Mum is happy in the kitchen with the staff preparing the food. Grandma and Grandpa are at the table, Grandpa with part of the newspaper and Grandma making tea.

"Morning, " I chirped. Dad and Grandpa dropped one side of their newspaper and stared at me in shock.

"Morning, Douglas," Grandma says, pointing to her cheek and inviting me to kiss her. I graze my lips over her cold, pale cheek and pull back. For some reason, Grandma has always been cold to the touch.

"Son," Dad says as a greeting, and Grandpa grunts and returns to his newspaper.

Taking the chair where I am to sit, we all have our place at the table, and mine is to my father's right. Mum is to his left, Grandpa is at one end of the table, and Dad is at the other, as if they are both the head of the table.

"Hello, son." Mum sings to me. It was her singing that woke me up. She loves to sing all the time when she's in the kitchen. We have two chefs, but Mum still insists on helping with the cooking.

"Morning." I stood, hugged her warmly, and pecked her cheek. I love my parents, but their nagging gets on my nerves.

"Will you be here for dinner?" Mum asks carefully. She has asked some women here to dine and wants me to meet them. I thought she was running out of friends with girl children, but she continues to find more.

"Yes, I am here for the day. "Dad had some business he wanted to talk to me about." Dad had said business, but I doubt that was the real reason.

"Oh, in that case, I will get those ladies here for lunch instead." She was so happy to have me here and stuck for the day.

I can leave, but have learned to stay, grin, and bear it over the years. It would only worsen if I didn't hang around and meet these ladies. Having lunch with Mum is nice; putting up with a few ladies will keep Mum quiet for a few months. It is worth it until she manages to find some more.