Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) Becca Jameson (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📖

exploring your neglected pink side, I’ve ordered several pink-themed items. Some already arrived. Some will come later today.”

“What kind of things?” I ask, swinging my legs, the hem of my dress grazing my thighs with every movement. I’m glad I have the freedom now to wear dresses.

“It wouldn’t be any fun if I told you, sweetie. I’ll slowly let you open them.” He turns around and gives me a stern look. “When you earn them.”

I glance at the naughty chart.

He chuckles. “You’re catching on.”

“When are you going to tell me what the tally marks mean?” I ask, anxious to discover this oddity.

“When I’m ready. Stop asking.”

“Yes, Sir,” I murmur.

The next time he turns around, he has breakfast in his hands.

My eyes widen when I see what he’s holding, and I’m tongue-tied as he sets my food in front of me. “Pink cup. Pink plate. Pink fork.” He sets the last down with a flourish. “Let the pink phase begin.”

He turns back around, leaving me dumbfounded. He’s gone all-out. The plate and cup are ordinary enough, but the fork is chubby, like a kid would use. Granted, it was probably hard to find pink silverware for adults. I shrug it off and start eating.

“Milk?” He holds up the carton.

“Yes, Sir.”

He fills my glass about halfway and then cups my face. “Yep, I like this respectful addition.” He’s referring to the fact that I keep calling him Sir. If it pleases him so much, I’ll keep it up. It’s obviously part of his Dominant side, though I’m beginning to realize his Dom isn’t a side. It’s a way of life.

He eats next to me and then swings me into the air again before setting me on my feet. I’m reminded of his previous girlfriend. Collette. She was his submissive. He took care of her. I’m curious about his preferences, however. I thought submissives took care of their Dominant, not the other way around. That is not Davis’s dynamic. He clearly thrives on taking care of me.

“Dishes, sweetie,” he admonishes when I start to walk away.

“Yes, Sir.” I rush back and pick them up, take them to the sink, rinse them, and put them in the dishwasher. I’m not sure I’ve ever cleaned up after myself immediately after eating before. I’ve been a slob for a long time. I hope I can remember Davis doesn’t like that and change my ways. This is his home after all.

He points at the table. “Your first gift.”

I smile as I rush over to pick up a pink-wrapped package. It’s flat. Feels like a book. “Can I open it?”

“Yes, you may, sweetie.”

I rip into it and find two things that make me nearly jump up and down with excitement. I’m absurdly happy for a grown woman, but the reality is Davis is fulfilling my childhood dreams one at a time. I clasp the book to my chest. “I’ve never had a coloring book or crayons of my own.”

He’s smiling but it doesn’t reach far enough. He pulls me against his chest, flattening my cheek to his pecs and rubbing my hair. I suspect he feels bad for the little girl who didn’t have her own crayons. Finally, he kisses the top of my head and then pulls out a chair for me. “I have some things I need to take care of in my office this morning. Will you be okay coloring for a while?”

“Yes, Sir.” I’ll be okay coloring for hours if he lets me. And if I finally decide to use the crayons. As he leaves the room, I open the box and run my thumb over each and every pointed tip. These aren’t rejected crayons someone had last year. They’re a new box. Mine. All the colors are inside.

It takes me a while to break the seal, so to speak, but I finally remove a pink crayon from the box and open the coloring book to the first page. A princess of course, and she shall have a pink dress like mine.

Chapter 15

Master Davis

I shut my office door and pray Britney won’t come in while I’m on the phone, and then I place my first call to Lazinski.

He answers on the first ring. “Yeah?”

“Jacobs here. Checking in.”

“Ah, Brock. Whatcha got for me?”

I run a hand through my hair and school my voice. I need to keep the façade up every time I talk to him. “I went to Ms. Heath’s apartment, but your men had already turned it into a tornado. It was hard to pick through the mess. What the fuck did they do that for, are they stupid?” I ask, trying to sound pissed, as if his first henchmen were making my job difficult.

“They were trying to find contact information. Family. Friends. Someplace she might have gone.”

“Yeah? Well, I tried to do the same thing except the place was ransacked, which makes my job harder. If you want me to help you, call your damn goons off. They’re making things worse.”

“Not a problem. Consider it done. Did it look like she’d been there?”

“No. Not a sign. Since her mattress wasn’t even on the frame, I seriously doubt she’s been sleeping there.” I’m exaggerating, but I need to drive home my point.

“Fuck,” Lazinski muttered.

“Why do I get the feeling there’re things you aren’t telling me?”

“Because you’re on a need-to-know basis, and you don’t need to know every damn detail.”

I seethed, but continued the show. “Listen, there’s no way one of your girls just up and left town without a good reason, and it’s pretty damn hard for me to locate someone when I don’t have all the details.”

Lazinski sighs and I picture him trying to decide how much to divulge. “Fine. She has something valuable of mine, and I want it back.”

I cringe, fighting the urge to strangle this piece of shit through the phone. But I’m trained to keep my cool, so I find the will. “You lend her some fucking diamonds or something?”

“Something like that.”

“What makes you think she didn’t