Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) Page 3

  Finally, I break our stare and look down at our combined hands. I grip his, grateful for the connection. I know I need to give him more and I find the will because he hasn’t tried to tell me I must be mistaken.

  “My stage name is Cotton Candy. He gave it to me the first night I was there. That was the first thing I heard when I reached the doorway. So, I froze. He proceeded to tell the other man that his buyer was looking for a younger girl, but he knew I would fit the requirements because I’m small and look younger.”

  Davis gives my hand a squeeze, silently encouraging me to continue.

  I’m talking to my lap, unable to meet his gaze. I feel dirty and humiliated. “I didn’t recognize the other man’s voice, so I assume he isn’t a regular client. I didn’t see him either. My boss described me perfectly. Long hair. Petite. Youthful. Pure. Small tits.” I let that last crude word fade away and I shudder, everything suddenly too overwhelming. I still haven’t let myself fully process this shit.

  Suddenly, Davis is beside me. He wraps his large arm around me and pulls me into his side. His hand comes to the back of my head and presses my cheek against his chest. He rocks me. “I’m so sorry. That must have scared the hell out of you.”

  I nod, holding my breath so that I don’t cry. I don’t want to cry on this stranger’s chest.

  He’s so solid and comforting. I can’t help but wrap my arm around him and fist his shirt in my hand, holding on tight to the first man who’s ever made me feel even half of what I feel right now.

  Chapter 4

  Master Davis

  We sit like that for a long time, me holding this sweet girl in my arms, gently rocking her while she pulls in shallow breaths. She’s being so brave, probably because she doesn’t want to get emotional in front of me.

  My heart aches for her. I’m also shocked. What she described is human trafficking. From the Sky Lounge. I need to call my boss. I need to call the fucking police. But I won’t do that last part. Not yet anyway. Somehow I doubt Britney would agree to it, and I seriously doubt it will be my boss’s first suggestion either.

  I work for Black Blade Protection. We specialize in mostly high-end private clients with specific needs that they would prefer to keep quiet about. My boss, Andres Phillips, started the agency after he got out of the Army five years ago. He has unique skills from years of working special ops, and he has gradually added to his team with other former military personnel who have the skills he needs.

  I’m the latest to join the team. There are six of us. None of my co-workers are going to like this story, and I suspect Blade—we never call my boss Andres—is going to want to get involved. I also suspect Britney would not like to hear this, so I say nothing.

  When Britney finally relaxes against me, her fingers no longer gripping my shirt like it’s a lifeline, I lift her chin and meet her gaze again. Her damn eyes are going to be the death of me. They suck me in deep every time I look directly at her. “I’m so sorry that happened to you, sweetie.” Why the hell have I started calling her by an endearment? Jesus.

  She nods, her eyes wide and trusting. Thank God.

  “Thank you for telling me the entire story. I don’t want to do anything rash, so why don’t we eat some dinner, and then you give me the keys to your apartment and a list, and I’ll go over and get some of your things.”

  Her lips part, and I know she’s going to argue.

  I narrow my gaze and tap her mouth like I did earlier. “No arguments. You can’t go to your apartment for any reason for a while. You were right not to go back there last night. Good instincts. I hate that you slept in your car, but at least you were safe. But under no circumstances will it happen again.”

  She nods. “Thank you. For…everything. I promise I won’t get in your way here and I won’t stay long. Just a few days until I can figure something else out.”

  I shake my head. “You’re not in my way. It’s been too quiet here. It’ll be nice having someone else around. I don’t want you to leave this house without me. Don’t even open the door. I have an alarm system that no one can penetrate, so you’re safe here. Got it?”

  She nods again.

  It feels so good holding her against me. It’s been a long time since I held a woman like this. I also know I’m looking at her through my Daddy eyes, and I need to stop that. She’s not a little. She’s not even in the fetish community. But it’s damn hard not to think of her that way. Especially since she’s so small and lost and trusting.

  It’s also hard to imagine her stripping. I can’t reconcile that with the woman in my arms. She’s not wearing makeup. She’s dressed conservatively. And although I can tell she has a body that would make me salivate if I ever saw her naked, it’s not the usual kind of body men ogle at strip clubs.

  I smile at her and lighten the mood. “I don’t have a lot of food in the house right now, but I think I have a pizza in the freezer. Will that work until I can order groceries?”

  “Of course. I don’t want you to have to worry about me,” she repeats. “I can pay for food and stuff. I just appreciate you letting me stay a few days. And the sheets and towels too. That was very kind.”

  As she sits up straighter, I take her shoulders and meet her gaze. “First of all, that’s the last time you’re going to thank me. Second of all, you’re staying until I’m certain it’s safe for you to leave. That’s going to take more than a few days. So, get comfortable.”

  She licks her sweet full lips, making me stifle a groan. “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

  “You’re not. I’m happy to have you. Like I said, it was too quiet here.”

  She sighs. “Okay. Thank you.”

  I narrow my gaze. “What did I say about thanking me again?”

  She rolls her eyes. “Okay. Got it. I’ll try.”

  My body goes from zero to ten in seconds. My full Daddy rears his head and draws in a deep breath. Between the eye-rolling and the tone of her sassy voice, I’m lucky I haven’t instinctively flipped her over on my lap and flattened my palm to her bottom.

  I’m going to have to rein in my reactions to this woman. She’s not mine. She’s fucking adorable, and it’s impossible not to fantasize about her under me in my bed, but the last thing she needs is for some man to make advances on her after what she’s been through. She needs help and a shoulder, not a Daddy she didn’t ask for.

  I find the will to bring my cock under control, and I stand, taking her hand. “Let’s get that pizza going and you can make a list of what you need from your apartment.”

  Chapter 5

  Britney

  Holy shit. I’m practically fanning myself as I follow Davis into the kitchen area. I’m shaking as I watch him remove a pepperoni pizza from the freezer and stick it in the oven.

  I stand awkwardly next to his island as he moves around the room. He pulls a drawer open next and takes out a pen and paper, setting both on the island.

  Before I can grasp his intentions, he grabs me by the waist and spins around to sit me on one of the stools.

  I suck in a breath as I’m seated, shocked and more than a little turned on. He smells so good, and he’s so attentive. Why does he live alone? He’s like a God. Surely women flock to him everywhere he goes.

  As he pushes my stool up to the island, he meets my gaze and freezes, eyes blinking before he winces. “Sorry. Habit.”

  “Habit?” I’m confused.

  He takes a seat next to me and rubs his hand along his thigh. “My last girlfriend was…petite, like you. We were together for a year. I got in the habit of lifting her onto anything higher than a chair. It was easier than watching her struggle to climb up.” He smiles but his expression is odd. I feel like he’s leaving something out, but I don’t know what that would be.

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway. Sorry. I’ll try not to be so…familiar. It just comes naturally.”

  “I don’t mind,” I tell him. And I don’t. It felt nice. I was just shocked. “How long ago did you break up?”


  “Six months. I moved here from Oklahoma. She didn’t want to leave Tulsa, so we broke up.”

  I cringe. “Sorry. That must have sucked.”

  “Yeah. It was rough for a while. I’m over it now.” He taps the paper in front of me. “Make that list.”

  I pick up the pen and tap my lips with it, thinking. When I glance at him, he’s grinning.

  “I could just wander around and grab the obvious things if you want. Clothes. Shoes. Toiletries.”

  “Yeah. I’m not sure how to make a list.” It seems very strange to send this man I hardly know to my apartment to get my things. What will he think of me? It’s so…intimate. “My place is small. I’m kinda frugal. I don’t have much. I could just go with you and make it easier,” I hedge.

  He shakes his head. “Not a chance. Too risky. I want you to take this seriously, Britney. What you overheard was human trafficking. This isn’t fun and games. It’s dangerous. If your boss already has a buyer for you, then he’s pissed that you’ve disappeared. If he’s already sold you, he will do anything to find you.”

  I can’t breathe. He’s right. “Should I call the police?”

  “Possibly, but let’s wait. Let me dig around a bit first. I’m in the business of protecting people, so I have connections. My boss has even more connections. I hate to say it, but it’s hard for the cops to do anything when a crime hasn’t been committed and all they have is your word that you overheard a conversation.”

  I draw in a breath. Now I’m freaking out a bit.

  He cups my face and leans closer. “I don’t want you to worry. Like I said, you’re safe here. I mean it about not leaving the house or opening the door though. Don’t even think about it, okay?”

  I nod. My heart is racing. His touch stirs things in me I’m not used to feeling. His intensity is so over the top. I want to climb into his lap and lean against his chest again. Irrational of course, and that would be cruel. Davis is a good guy who’s trying to help me. He’s not thinking about me that way. Why would he? He could have any woman on earth. He probably thinks I’m a baby. I’m much younger than him, and I have nothing to offer. I haven’t even gone to college. Ha. How could I have done that? Pipe dream.

  It seems like forever before he releases my cheek to go check on the pizza, and I miss his touch. In fact, as soon as he’s not facing me, I palm my face where his hand was. I’ve known him for all of about ten hours and already I’m like a lovesick puppy.

  I shouldn’t be surprised. Of course, I would fall for the first man to give one single fuck about me. Sure, men hit on me. They have for years. Catcalls are part of my daily life. And then there are the men at the Lounge. I shudder even thinking about them. In my experience, all men ever want is sex, and I’m not giving it to them, so they quickly grow tired of trying and move on.

  Most of them anyway. Obviously, I can be bought and sold.

  Shit.

  I shake that thought from my head as Davis sets two plates on the table. He heads for the living room and comes back with our water bottles. “Eat, sweetie. You have to be starving.”

  I pick up a slice of the pizza and blow on the end so that I won’t burn the roof of my mouth, but my mind is on the way he keeps calling me sweetie. It’s just an endearment. He probably calls everyone sweetie. But I prefer to pretend he has assigned the affectionate nickname to me alone and that it means something.

  While we eat, I slowly think of things and write them on the list. I don’t own a lot. It won’t be hard to make his way around my space. He’s going to find out more about me than anyone alive knows though. Can’t be avoided. By the time he returns, he’ll know I’m dirt poor, everything I own is second-hand, I’m a slob, the only makeup in my bathroom is costume stuff for work, I don’t own jewelry that didn’t come from the dollar store, and my hair products include one item—a brush.

  I wish he didn’t have to learn so much about me. It’s embarrassing. But he’s adamant, and thinks this threat is serious, so I’m not going to argue. Besides, I get the feeling Davis is the sort of guy not many people argue with.

  I glance up at him as I finish my pizza. “Uh, seems like I should tell you that I’m a slob. My place is small, and it’s a mess.”

  He chuckles. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s not that bad.” He stands, tosses our plates in the sink, stuffs my list in his pocket, and then lifts me from the stool to set me on the floor so fluidly that it’s obviously second nature to him. I’m instantly jealous of his ex-girlfriend and can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be willing to move to Seattle with him. If he were my man, I’d go to Mars if he asked me to.

  Who am I kidding? As if someone like Davis would ever be interested in someone like me. What a joke. I need to wipe that line of thinking from my head. He’s helping me out. That’s all. Thinking otherwise will end up biting me in the ass.

  He smooths a hand down my hair from the top of my head to the center of my back. “Will you be okay here if I’m gone for a while?”

  “Of course,” I murmur. I’m mesmerized by him.

  “You can fix up the bed. I put shampoo and conditioner and soap in your bathroom. I didn’t know what to get, so it’s just whatever.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I reassure him. I’m sure it’s nicer than anything I’ve ever had.

  “Well, okay. I need to run by the office and take care of a few things.” He gives me a stern look. “Don’t open the door to anyone.”

  “I won’t.”

  He snaps his fingers and turns around to grab another piece of paper. A moment later he jots something down and hands it to me. “My cell number. Put it in your phone and text me in the next few minutes so I’ll have yours. If anything seems even remotely unnerving to you, call me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Other than that, make yourself at home. Remote’s on the coffee table.”

  I clear my throat. “How am I going to get to work tomorrow?” We left my car at the shelter. Davis insisted.

  “We’ll figure that out in the morning. I’m not sure it’s the best idea.”

  My eyes widen. “Cindy’s counting on me.”

  He strokes my hair again and tips my head back with his thumb under my chin. “Cindy understands. And I don’t want to move your car here just yet. It’s harder to find you if we don’t help them out.”

  I nod. Again with his incredible intensity. I can’t decide if I’m really in as much danger as he thinks or if he’s making more out of it than necessary. Obviously, I was spooked enough to leave the club and not even go home, but I keep thinking maybe I misunderstood. Who sells humans?

  I shiver, and Davis pulls me into his chest and holds me tight. His hand is still stroking my hair, and it feels amazing.

  After he leaves the house, setting the alarm on his way out, I pull my phone out of the pocket on my sweater. I cringe when I see there are a dozen texts from my boss, Mr. Lazinski, and even more phone calls. Several voice messages too. There are also a few texts from the only co-worker I’m friendly with, Licorice, AKA Mila. I don’t read any of the texts or listen to the messages. I can’t face them right now. Instead, I add Davis’s phone number to my contacts and leave the phone on the counter.

  Chapter 6

  Master Davis

  When I arrive at Britney’s apartment, it takes me a moment before I’m willing to close the door. The place is a mess. Not the kind of mess from being a slob. It’s turned upside down.

  I’m not the kind of guy who goes into very many situations without being armed, and I’m not sorry I brought my piece tonight. I pull the gun from the side holster and grip it in my hand.

  I know it’s not necessary. Whoever’s been here is gone. I can’t be sure they aren’t watching the apartment and won’t return though. I shut and lock the door at my back and make my way through the tiny studio. Her dresser is upended. Nothing is inside it.

  I know she didn’t make this mess. How serious is this situation? I’m starting to think it’s muc
h worse than she believes.

  I holster my gun and pull my cell from my pocket to shoot off a text to Blade before tucking it back into my jeans and squatting down to pick up some clothes. It’s going to be a challenge gathering her clothes in this mess, and I don’t have a lot of time. I want to get out of here fast and head for the Sky Lounge. I have some snooping to do.

  I grab several shirts, noticing they are threadbare. Clean but well-worn. Her jeans are too. She doesn’t own much else. Baggy T-shirts and jeans must be her main wardrobe. There’s a pile of white panties and a few plain white bras next to the dresser. They must have all fallen out together.

  I drop what I’m holding and stand. Seriously, I don’t want to take any of this. I want to order her new things and have them delivered. I shuffle over to the only room that’s separate from this main room. The bathroom. It’s surprisingly not as upturned. There’s a brush on the counter and a worn toothbrush in the holder. She won’t need either item. I’ve already put a brush and toothbrush in her bathroom.

  I open the drawers and find nothing but costume jewelry and cheap, flashy makeup that she must use at work. There isn’t much. Considering what she wore to work last night, I assume she keeps most of her work-related clothes and makeup at the Lounge.

  I draw in a deep breath and make my way to her bed. The sheets are threadbare too. The bed is unmade. Her pillow is thin. The only thing that stands out is a worn stuffed animal lying next to her pillow. I grab it. It’s a bunny that’s seen better days.

  Something seems off, and after glancing around, I realize what it is. Nothing is pink. The woman picked out pink bedding and towels. She doesn’t even appear to care for pink. Why would she do that?

  I move to the bedside table that doesn’t match the bed or the dresser and I’m surprised to find whoever intruded didn’t open the drawer. I pull it open and suck in a breath. Not sure why. I shouldn’t be surprised. She’s a grown woman. Single. Living alone. Of course, she has a vibrator.