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  Nurturing Britney

  Surrender, Book Seven

  Becca Jameson

  Copyright © 2021 by Becca Jameson

  Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. And resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Newsletter

  Acknowledgments

  About the Book

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Also by Becca Jameson

  About the Author

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  Becca’s Newsletter Sign-up

  Acknowledgments

  Once again I have to thank the people who spent so much time helping me brainstorm so that the framework of this plot could unravel! Susan, Rebecca, Elle—you guys are the best! And to all the fans of this series who are enjoying it and indulging me as I explore this new genre, I love you all!

  About the Book

  Britney

  I’m a stripper by night while I live plain and under the radar by day.

  A gal has to do whatever’s necessary to make ends meet.

  My boss has maintained a hands-off policy for me, but now I know why.

  I’ve been sold. My innocent looks. My petite frame. My virginity. I’m a commodity.

  I’m on the run. I’m used to living a tough life. I’ve done it since I was born.

  When Davis takes me in, he offers protection, solace, relief.

  He offers a chance to experience the things I missed out on.

  He offers to be my Daddy Dom. I’m his little now. I’ve never been happier.

  But my boss is looking for me. He’ll stop at nothing to find me.

  Even if I could escape that fact, how long can I find comfort in being Daddy’s little girl?

  * * *

  Davis

  I left the military and moved to Seattle to join my buddies at Black Blade Protection.

  I left behind my little. We were growing apart. We wanted different things.

  I spend my days and nights protecting people. Providing security.

  I’m not prepared to be knocked on my ass by a sprite of a woman who can’t meet my gaze.

  She’s the entire package—cute and sexy with big blue eyes and hair down to her butt.

  She needs my help, but it’s impossible to ignore her tendencies as a little.

  She’s vulnerable and alone. Nightmares yank her out of her sleep.

  She’s also precious and gracious and has me wrapped around her finger.

  I should keep my hands to myself. She doesn’t know about my world.

  The choice is ultimately hers, but first I have to destroy her buyer and end the threat to her life.

  Chapter 1

  Master Davis

  * * *

  When I arrive at Safe Harbor Animal Shelter at seven in the morning, I’m surprised to find an unknown car in the parking lot. I’m expecting to see Charles’s truck because he’s the night manager who’s going to let me in, but there’s also another car—an older model Buick. Sky blue. It’s seen better days.

  It’s in my nature to investigate, so I shuffle toward the car. I can’t imagine why. What will I gain from getting a closer look? The most likely scenario is that someone who came to the shelter yesterday looking to adopt a pet couldn’t get their car started and had to leave it behind.

  My breath catches in my throat and I stop dead in my tracks the moment I reach the driver’s side. It’s not abandoned. Someone is currently in it. Asleep in the driver’s seat.

  It’s a woman, or maybe a girl? She looks awfully young, but maybe that’s just because she’s not wearing any makeup and she’s curled onto her side with her hands under her cheek. She has incredibly long hair that is draped all around her and falling over the center console. Her skin is unblemished and tanned.

  She looks peaceful, and I hate to wake her, but I need to know why she’s here. The thought of someone sleeping in their car pulls at my heartstrings. It’s possible she’s homeless and chose this parking lot to get some rest. I hope she’s not a runaway or in trouble with the law.

  I tap gently on the window, not wanting to startle her. My attempt is in vain, however, because she instantly bolts upright, huge blue eyes wide and staring up at me. Her mouth falls open at the same time to reveal perfect white teeth. Her full lips catch my attention when she runs her tongue along the bottom one.

  I swipe a hand down my face. I should not be attracted to this girl. I don’t even know how old she is. Something in her eyes tells me she has lived some rough years though. Something mistrustful. A combination of innocence and suspicion.

  She sits upright, brushing her hair over her shoulders, her gaze on mine. When she reaches for the door handle, she hesitates.

  Good girl. I’d be worried if this woman readily opened her door to me—a stranger.

  I set my hand on the roof of her car and meet her gaze. “Do you need some help?” The thought of this woman/girl possibly in trouble or without a home makes my chest tighten.

  She shakes her head. “No. I work here. I’m just…early.”

  I frown. “You work here? At the shelter?” Our voices are raised to hear each other through the glass.

  She swallows and glances around. “Yes.” She finally lifts her phone and looks at the time, cringing. “Shit,” she mutters loud enough for me to hear.

  “Sorry to wake you. I saw the car and thought maybe it wouldn’t start or something. I’m meeting Cindy here to update the alarm system. Why don’t you come inside?” I don’t know why I’ve suggested such a thing, but I hate the idea of her sitting out here in her car for three more hours. There’s a story here. Probably one that will make me cringe.

  A dozen scenarios play out in my mind. She had a fight with her boyfriend and left him. She was out late and didn’t want to go home and wake anyone. Her parents kicked her out. Her car didn’t start when she got off work yesterday and she doesn’t have the money for a tow or a ride home. Then back to my original thought—this is home for her.

  I step back as she opens the door. She winces and rubs her neck as she eases out of the car. She couldn’t have been comfortable. When she tips her head back to meet my gaze, she swallows. “Sorry. I...uh.” She doesn’t finish. Whatever her reason for being here so early, she hasn’t had a chance to perfect her story yet, or she didn’t expect to get caught.

  In reality, she wouldn’t have been
found out if it weren’t for the fact that I arranged to meet with Cindy here at this hour. Coincidence.

  I hold out a hand. “Davis Marcum.”

  She takes my hand in her much smaller one. “Britney Heath.” Damn, she’s petite. She’s only about five-two. Again, I wonder how old she is. If she works for Cindy, she has to be at least eighteen.

  She pulls her smaller hand from mine before I’ve released her and then lifts her arms to run her fingers through her hair. It’s fucking gorgeous. Some might call it dirty blond, but it’s more like light brown with amazing blond highlights in a dozen shades. It hangs down in long thick waves to her butt. She could sit on it.

  When she meets my gaze again, I notice that she’s not just pretty; she’s stunningly gorgeous. There’s a maturity in her eyes, and they’re a shade of blue that makes me feel like I’m staring at the sky. Her face is round, her nose is a button, her lips are full and kissable. Her skin is flawless. God was good to her.

  I force myself to hold her gaze but I’m aware that she’s wearing jeans, a cheap pair of flip flops, a white tank top, and a cardigan sweater. She tugs the sweater around her tighter as if she’s cold. It is chilly this morning.

  I notice there’s nothing extra in her car, so maybe she isn’t homeless after all.

  She sighs and glances back at her open door. “I…uh…”

  That’s the second time she’s stammered that same lack of information. She’s nervous and…well, cute. Shit. If she were at least in her twenties and I met her at Surrender, I would rush across the room and try to get her attention before any other man got their hands on her.

  However, we’re not at Surrender. She probably has no idea what a fetish club is. And I have no business ogling her because at thirty-five I’m too fucking old for her no matter what.

  She turns back to me. “I should probably talk to Cindy.”

  I nod, though I’m hoping my appearance hasn’t caused her any problems. She looks like she could use a break. I nod toward the building. “You might as well come inside. I hate to leave you out here.” I glance around the area. It’s probably safe enough, but I wouldn’t leave any woman alone in a car.

  She follows me to the entrance and waits with me while the night manager opens the door for us. Cindy told him I would be here, and I know his name is Charles.

  He’s a big guy with dark skin and a winning smile. “You must be Davis.” He holds out a hand and I shake it. Then he glances over my shoulder. “Hey, Britney. What are you doing here so early?”

  She squares her shoulders and stammers an answer. “I came straight here from my other job. Figured I’d just catch a few hours of sleep in the car.”

  “Girl,” Charles drawls, “why didn’t you come inside? Are you still working at that club? I thought you quit that gig.”

  She winces.

  My hair stands on end. Club? I can’t picture this woman at any club even as a guest.

  “Not anymore,” she murmurs.

  “Good. I hated thinking about you in that place. Made my skin crawl.” Charles waves us farther inside.

  My skin is crawling now too. I’m dying to understand this woman better. Britney. Cute name. Suits her. I let her pass through the doorway leading into the back of Safe Harbor ahead of me. I tell myself it’s because I’m a gentleman and not because I want to take a look at her ass.

  Even her ass is cute. Does this woman have flaws? I kinda need to find out before my cock gets hard.

  “I made coffee.” Charles points at a steaming pot as we pass what I assume is the break room. “And there are muffins there from yesterday. You need to eat something, girl.”

  The sound of dogs barking increases as we head toward what I assume are their kennels. Sure enough, Charles opens a door, and I see rows of kennels. The larger dogs on the right are making most of the racket, but the smaller puppies on the left are adding to the cacophony with their higher-pitched yelps.

  Charles glances over his shoulder. “Don’t mind these furry fellows. They’re anxious for their breakfast. I was just about to feed them.”

  “I can help,” Britney offers as she scurries over to a side door where I assume the food is kept.

  I continue to follow Charles, though it’s impossible not to glance over my shoulder as that mane of blond hair disappears through the doorway.

  After we pass through a thick door on the other side of the kennel, the noise mutes again.

  Charles turns around. “Was she sleeping in the parking lot?” He looks concerned. His brow is furrowed. His dark eyes narrowed.

  “Yeah. I saw the car and approached. Didn’t expect to find a woman inside. Startled me. Startled her more. Has she done that before?”

  “I don’t think so.” He sighs. “That girl makes me nervous. She’s too cute for her own good, and that damn club she was working at wasn’t right for her. If she were mine, I would have hauled her out of there and locked her up somewhere safe.” He chuckles. “It’s been hard not meddling though. My wife worries about her too. I’ve come close to offering her a room in our house a few times, but I was afraid I’d step on her pride.”

  “Doesn’t she have a place to live?”

  “Yes. She has an apartment as far as I know, but I’m betting she can’t afford it without that damn night job.” He shudders.

  I can’t blame him. The thought of her working in a club makes me want to punch a hole in the wall. Irrational. Not my business. No idea why I give a fuck. What I do know is that she must be at least twenty-one if she works in a nightclub. “Which club did she work at?” I ask Charles.

  “The Sky Lounge.”

  My eyes bug out. “Tell me you’re kidding.”

  “Wish I could.”

  The Sky Lounge is a gentleman’s club. It’s well known in the Seattle area. I’ve only been here six months and I’m familiar with it. “Do they…” I swallow, “serve food?”

  He chuckles again. “No. They do not.”

  We exchange a knowing glance. Fuck. If they don’t serve food then she’s been stripping. I can’t wrap my head around that.

  “Hard to picture, isn’t it?” Charles asks, wincing.

  “Very. She doesn’t look old enough, and she’s…”

  “I hear ya. Not the type. I agree. And she’s twenty-two. I’m glad she quit. I hope she isn’t in any trouble though.” He turns around and points toward the corner of this back room. “The main hub for the alarm system is over there. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go pry some more info out of Britney while you get started. I’ll send Cindy back here when she arrives.”

  I nod slowly. It takes every ounce of strength I can muster not to turn around and pry that info out of Britney myself. Why on earth should I give a shit? I don’t know that girl. Woman. I’ve exchanged very few words with her, in fact. She’s an employee of Cindy’s. Cindy will take care of her problem. Or hell, it would seem Charles will too.

  I’m glad she has Charles. The man is formidable. Whatever problems Britney has, he’ll get to the bottom of things.

  Chapter 2

  Britney

  * * *

  Shit. Shit shit shit.

  When I came here last night, I was hoping no one would notice and I could just go in to work close to ten without getting caught. I have no idea what I’m going to say. The fact that I quit my job last night was unplanned. So unplanned, that I spent most of the night worrying in my car.

  I’m feeding the animals when Charles returns. He’s a good man, and I know he worries about me. He never liked me working at the Sky Lounge, but it paid the bills. I rub my forehead as I pet one of the kittens, the only one that isn’t too skittish to come out of her kennel each morning.

  “I heard Cindy’s car. Let’s go out front,” Charles says. Or more like demands. I know he’s not mad at me. He’s just concerned. He’s not alone. I hate that I’m going to need to come up with a story for Cindy though. I’m not a good liar. I never have been.

  I reluctantly follow Charles bac
k to the front of the building and sigh when I see her coming through the front door with the man from the parking lot. Davis was his name. He must have gone around the building from the back and met up with Cindy on her way in.

  My heart nearly stopped when I found him leaning over my car earlier. He’s so…big. His dark brown hair is cut military short, and a hint of tattoos poke out from under his sleeves now that he’s not wearing a jacket.

  He’s…imposing. Serious. I’m still reeling from the amount of concern he had for me. I wonder if he would have let me remain in the car if I’d insisted. I got the feeling he would not. His hand was firm and warm when he shook mine. Also more than twice the size of mine.

  As we approach, I notice the muscles in his neck and down his back. And Jesus, his biceps. The guy works out.

  Cindy does a doubletake when she spots me. “Britney. What are you doing here so early?”

  I’m shocked that Davis hasn’t already ratted me out, but judging by the conversation we’ve stepped into, I guess he got right to work. He’s here to increase security. Why should he care about a woman sleeping in the parking lot?

  Except I get the impression he did care. A lot. It’s in his nature. He’s like a giant teddy bear.

  I wrap my arms around my waist as if I’m chilly. “Long story, but I quit my other job last night, and I didn’t feel like going home.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. It’s actually a huge deal, and I have no idea how I’m going to handle it.