Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7)

by Becca Jameson

  The thing is that after lunch, he hangs them both on the refrigerator, low enough for me to reach them.

  Something hitches in my chest. A twinge of regret that I never got to be a kid. I never had pink things and chore charts. Dresses and ribbons. Toys of my own. Pets. I’ve never spent a great deal of time dwelling on these facts, and I have no idea why I am now. For some reason, it’s just coming in through the cracks as if I’ve been holding myself together for years and suddenly the façade is cracking.

  I don’t think I like it, while at the same time, I find I’m staying with a man who seems intent on indulging me. I don’t care how strange it is, I’m going to play along. Maybe I’ll grasp a bit of my missing childhood and feel better in the end.

  Chapter 12

  Britney

  I watch television for a while in the afternoon while Davis goes into his office to work. I hear him on the phone several times and wonder if he’s talking about me. I know he’s working on solving my problem. I have to assume he’s spoken to his boss about me. I don’t want to know what he’s saying though, so I focus on the television.

  I’m hiding from my problems. He’s enabling me, too. I’m not sure I care right now. It feels good to ignore reality for a while. I’ve never had this luxury. I can’t remember the last time I sat around lounging all afternoon with no responsibilities. I don’t even own a television, so I’ve never done that. I read sometimes, but usually, I need to be working or sleeping between jobs or going over my finances to make sure enough money is left for rent.

  When Davis comes out of his office, his brow is furrowed, but I don’t ask questions. I follow him with my eyes as he passes me, heading for the kitchen. He returns moments later, leans over the back of the couch, and kisses the top of my head. Then he disappears back into his office with a bottle of water.

  Eventually, he comes out for good. He orders pizza and then we watch a movie. As soon as it starts, he reaches for me, and I scramble over to sit next to him, leaning into his side.

  It’s a romantic comedy, and I smile often while it plays, but mostly I’m focused on his hand roaming absently up and down my body from my thigh to my hip and back. Each time he touches my bare skin, my dress creeps up a bit more. Eventually, I’m practically holding my breath because his fingers are teasing the backs of my legs, inches from my panties.

  It’s hard to keep from squirming. I keep my hands between my breasts, fisted to contain my reaction. I don’t want him to stop, so I don’t move. I’ve never been this aroused with a man before. My panties are soaked. My breasts feel heavy. My nipples are pressing against my dress. Without a bra, I keep thinking he will notice them when I move. They must be obvious points by now.

  The tension builds until I might explode. I think about that vibrator. Not only didn’t he give it to me, but the bag disappeared. I have no idea where he put it. I could get myself off with my fingers when I go to bed later, but he’s told me not to. I still can’t imagine how he would know, but the man seems to have a sixth sense, so I’m not going to take that chance. With my luck, the infraction would end up as a tally mark on the mysterious naughty list.

  When the movie ends, I hold my breath, wishing I didn’t have to move, wanting two more hours of him stroking me even though I’m about to explode with need.

  He lifts his hand and pats my bottom. “You should go take your bath and get ready for bed, sweetie. You’ve got to be exhausted. It’s been a long day.”

  I turn my head to look at him. I want him to kiss me. I want him to keep touching me. Instead, he lifts me up and sets me on my feet. We’re eye to eye when I’m standing and he’s sitting.

  His hands are on my shoulders. “Have you found everything you need in your bathroom, sweetie?”

  My belly flips when he calls me that. He does it often. It’s endearing. It’s also causing me to pretend I mean more to him than I possibly could. I lick my lips. “I’m going to need a razor at some point.”

  He frowns. “Didn’t I leave you some hair remover?”

  I swallow. “Yeah, but I’ve never used something like that before. I’m not sure what to do with it. It made me nervous.” I bite my lip, my face heating as he stares at me. What an intimate discussion I hadn’t expected.

  “I’d rather you try it out. It’s safer than razors. You can’t accidentally cut yourself with a foam hair remover. Do you need me to help you with it?”

  I flush deeper. Jesus. I shake my head. “No. I’ll read the can and try it out.” I look down, embarrassed.

  He lifts my chin, as he often does, and then he kisses me briefly on the lips. “Try it. If you need help, call for me. Otherwise, I’ll come check on you and tuck you into bed in thirty minutes.”

  I nod. My heart is racing again though and when I shudder, I remember how sensitive my nipples are and glance down. Shit. He’s surely seen them.

  He releases my shoulders, turns me around, and pats my butt again. “I put a nightgown on your vanity.”

  I draw in a breath and flee the room, not wanting to look back and risk him seeing how flushed I am or how stiff my nipples are. I’m not sure I breathe again until I’m closed in my bathroom, door locked, my butt leaning against it. I’m gasping for oxygen.

  It takes me a few minutes to catch my breath before I realize I’m on a time schedule. I need to somehow figure out the hair remover, take my bath, brush my teeth, clean up my bathroom, dress in whatever he’s left me, and be under my covers in thirty minutes. Anything less will risk embarrassment.

  I shove off the door and grab the pink aerosol can. I quickly read the directions and decide I can handle this. It says it’s for sensitive skin. It can’t be that bad.

  I strip quickly, drop my dress and panties in the hamper, find a hairband in one of the drawers, and gather my long locks on top of my head. I’m nervous as I climb into the tub. After sitting on my butt, I spray a generous amount of the foam into my palm and then spread it on my legs starting at the ankles. When I’m fully covered, I glance at my pubes. I’ve been carefully shaving there every night for a year. It wasn’t something I was accustomed to before I started dancing, but Licorice told me how to do it efficiently. There’s nothing worse than a stray pubic hair sticking out of my thong.

  I decide to go for it. Maybe this will be easier, and like Davis said, less risk of nicking my skin. Odd thing for him to consider, but my entire day has been filled with odd things. Why should my new hair removal product be any different?

  I spread it around my labia, above my clit, and then down to my bottom. Then I lean forward to turn on the water super low to rinse my hands off. Now, I wait.

  I don’t have a clock and my phone is still in the kitchen. I should have brought it with me. Instead, I have to guess. If I go too long, I might burn my skin. If I don’t wait long enough, I risk wasting my effort. So, I count. To sixty. Five times.

  Finally, I turn the water on, let it heat up, and rinse off the foam. I’m surprised to find myself hair-free, skin as smooth as silk. Huh. What do you know?

  I quickly wash my body with the baby soap from the pink bottle and let myself linger only a few minutes in the tub before draining it and getting out to dry off. I brush my teeth next and then reach for the silky material sitting on the counter.

  I smile. It’s pink, of course. It’s also soft and luxurious. When I pull it over my head, I feel like a princess. Two thin bands hold it up by my shoulders. There is a lace edge that runs along the top above my breasts and also along the hem at my thighs.

  It’s short, and I glance back at the counter. He hasn’t left me any panties. I’ve never slept without panties. I’ve also never slept in the nude. I consider putting the ones I’ve had on all day and then decide against it. He’s not the sort of person who makes mistakes. If he didn’t leave panties, he doesn’t mean for me to wear them. I wonder if this means he intends to find out.

  I panic a bit as I let my hair down and then rush back into my bedroom. I turn off the lights and scurry to ge
t under the covers. I’m breathing heavily again by the time I’m situated with my nightgown pulled down under my butt and the covers pulled up to my chin.

  He said he would come tuck me in. What does that mean? I’m a bit confused by his signals. Sometimes I find him staring at me…longingly? Other times he holds me at arm’s length. He has held me in his lap several times now. He touches me in some way nearly every time he’s near me.

  He wouldn’t do all that if he wasn’t interested, right? But am I ready to have sex with him? My body is screaming out that I am because I’ve been horny for hours. My brain is far more rational and points out that I’ve known him less than two days. I’ve gone twenty-two years without giving up my virginity. I shouldn’t rush into something, especially with a man I hardly know.

  A thought occurs to me though. If I were no longer a virgin, maybe whoever wants to buy me will no longer be interested. It’s not a bad idea.

  I flinch when a knock sounds at my door right before Davis steps inside. He leaves the door open, allowing the light from the hallway to bathe my room in the ray of brightness.

  He’s smiling as he sits next to my hip and sets his hand on my belly. “How did the hair remover work out?”

  “Fine.” Jesus. Do we have to discuss this? I wonder if he’s planning to check for himself, and then I can’t decide if I like that idea or not.

  “Good. I thought you’d like it. Razors make me nervous around female parts.”

  I flush for the millionth time.

  “Does the nightgown fit okay?”

  “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  He grins wickedly. “That’s eight.”

  I groan. “That’s not fair.”

  He shrugs. “It’s my rule.”

  “I think I should get three freebies each day then. If you’re going to buy me things, I’ll want to express my appreciation.”

  He chuckles. “I’ll think about it.” And then he leans down and kisses me gently on the lips. His hand moves around so that he’s gripping my torso, his fingers wrapped around to my back, his thumb under my breast.

  When he removes his hand to reach for Bunny and snuggle her against my neck, I miss his touch. I’m afraid he’s going to leave now, and I don’t want him to go.

  I dig deep and find some courage. “I was thinking…”

  “What were you thinking, sweetie?”

  “If the man who wants to buy me is looking for a virgin, maybe the contract would be useless to him if I were no longer a virgin.”

  Davis chuckles like I’m silly and then cups my face. Not the reaction I was hoping for. “That may be true, but it poses a bunch of problems.”

  “Like what?”

  “For one, you’re not leaving this house for any reason and no one is coming into the house either, so who would you have sex with?”

  I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I feel incredibly foolish. Have I misread him entirely?

  He slowly smiles and then strokes my lower lip with his thumb. “I’m kidding. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell I’d let you have sex with another man besides me.”

  “Oh.” I let out a breath, hopeful again.

  “But that’s not the only issue. I’m also not having sex with you. Not in the near future. Not while you’re finding yourself and getting to know me. If you’re good and you find yourself wanting to get intimate with me, I’ll gradually introduce you to my kind of sexual contact, but I’m not penetrating your untouched pussy while we’re dealing with this problem. It’s out of the question.”

  I gasp. “You said I can’t touch myself, and you’re not going to touch me either?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m going to touch you, sweetie. Soon. I promise. I’m just not going to penetrate you.”

  I sigh. “But what if that would make all the difference?”

  “Well, that brings up the next problem. How on earth do you suppose you would go about proving anything? You think you’re going to go to the man who bought you and show him your broken hymen or something? Hell, there’s a good chance your hymen isn’t even intact already. Hardly any woman makes it to your age with some sort of skin still lingering to represent any sort of virginity. Tampons. Fingers. Vibrators. Horseback riding. Bicycles. All of those things would destroy the evidence, so to speak.”

  He has a point, and I feel ridiculous. “Right.” I squirm at his description though. He’s so clinical, and I’m reacting to every word as if he’s been stroking my nipples instead of talking.

  As if he’s read my mind, his thumb suddenly slides up to flick over my nipple.

  I gasp and arch my chest even though I hardly felt the contact considering there is a nightgown, a sheet, and a comforter between my skin and his thumb.

  His smile makes me hold his gaze though. “You are so precious.” He stands abruptly and then leans down and tugs the covers down a few inches. He doesn’t expose my chest, so I’m confused until he pulls first one arm and then the other out from under the blankets.

  He tucks bunny under one arm and settles my wrists at my sides, pressing them into the mattress. He leans over to kiss me yet again and then whispers against my lips. “Keep your hands away from your nipples and your pussy, sweetie. Hard rule.” Another kiss. “Sleep tight.”

  I’m not breathing as he leaves my room, shutting the door behind him. My mind is spinning out of control. I’m aroused and needy and frankly desperate. Damn him. I can’t even say that out loud without getting a tally mark on my naughty chart.

  I take a deep breath and try to calm myself. I’m obviously not getting any relief tonight. There’s no chance in the world I’m going to risk touching myself. It would be my luck that he’d walk back into the room and find my hand under the covers. Or worse, I might moan and draw his attention. I don’t think I’m a moaner, but I’m not sure.

  It seems like forever before I fall asleep, but finally, my body relaxes and I slip into a blessed slumber.

  Chapter 13

  Master Davis

  Fuck me.

  Even a long shower in which I come twice with my hand doesn’t lessen the desire to claim the woman in my guest room. I’m in over my head. I want her so badly, I’m shaking.

  Every single subtle and not so subtle change I made to her life over the course of the day was met with innocent acceptance. It’s like she was made for me.

  I have to remind myself often that she still has no clue about my world. I’m teasing her with the fringes of it. Stoking the flames. But I’m not playing fair. She’s not a little.

  I mean, fuck, maybe she is a little and she just doesn’t have the vocabulary for it. That’s more likely. And dangerous for me to believe.

  I can’t sleep with her. It’s out of the question. All I can do for now is gradually introduce her to my kink and watch how she responds. It’s reasonable for her to crave what I’m offering. She missed out on so much. But there are no guarantees she will want to continue to relive her childhood indefinitely. It’s rare and hard to come by.

  My cock stiffens once more in my hand as I picture her squirming when all I did was stroke her nipple. I could hardly even know for sure if I hit the mark with all the material between my thumb and her breast.

  I wish I could have seen her using that foam hair remover. If she’d been mine beforehand… If she’d known about my fetish world… But I can’t invade her personal space that deeply yet. I need to earn her trust. I also need to keep my damn hands to myself. For now. For tonight.

  Lord, I’ll probably give in and let her come tomorrow. She’s so eager and willing and sexy and adorable and sweet.

  I get out of the shower, quickly dry off, and pull on flannel pants before grabbing my phone and calling Blade.

  He answers on the first ring. “Hey.”

  “Hi. Any news?” I spoke with him earlier, several times. I know he’s got men digging into the Sky Lounge. He’s looking for evidence that this has happened before.

  “Not yet. Nothing. About a half-a-do
zen women have quit in the last year and have been replaced, but I can’t tell if they did so voluntarily or not. It’s not an unusual turnover. We’re going to have to dig deeper. I’ll send Spike in undercover. Neither you nor I can return. We burned that bridge.”

  “Right.” I start pacing. “Britney doesn’t know I went to the club, and she sure doesn’t know I’m supposedly working for Lazinski. She would panic if she knew.”

  “Agreed.”

  “You know I can’t sit around here another day doing nothing, right? Tomorrow my ass is going to start digging one way or another.”

  Blade chuckles. “I would expect nothing less. Keep me apprised. I’ll let you know if Spike comes up with any new information.”

  “You realize I won’t rest until we find both the buyer and the seller. Her life is in danger until both ends are squelched. There are no other options.”

  “Are you sleeping with her?” Blade asks without hesitation.

  “What? No. Of course not.”

  He chuckles again. “Yet.”

  I sigh and rub my forehead with two fingers. He’s right. I sincerely hope to have her in my bed soon. I also hope I don’t let that cloud my judgment. I need her safe either way, whether or not she ends up in my bed.

  “Are you sure it’s a good idea for her to be staying with you? I could put her in a safe house.”

  “Out of the question. Not up for discussion. Talk to you tomorrow,” I say and then end the call.

  I sit on the edge of my bed, lean my elbows on my knees, and let my forehead fall to my palms. I’m worried and trying to think of how to proceed when a scream fills the silence.

  I jump to my feet and run to Britney’s room, my heart pounding. I’m also not surprised to once again find her in a fetal position, rocking back and forth, gasping for breath. She’s clutching her bunny in her arms.