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

and sets the two bags over by the entrance to the room. That leaves towels and wash clothes and bathroom rugs.

“They didn’t have solid pink in bathroom supplies.” I can’t quite read his voice. Half joking. Half serious? And his expression is equally confusing. He rifles through the pile and chooses something. When he holds it up, he says, “How about this? It’s partially pink.”

It’s a set of white towels that have a pink ruffle along the ends. It looks like something either a grandma or a young girl would own. Hell, that describes the entire room. “That’s fine,” I manage to murmur. “But seriously…”

He puts a finger on my lips. “Don’t say it. Enough arguing. It’s just bedding and towels. Not a big deal. Done.” He points to a door on one wall. “Bathroom’s over there. It’s attached. You’ll have privacy in here.”

I nod. “Thank you.” I don’t point out that I’ve never in my life had this much space. My studio apartment isn’t even as big as this one-bedroom/bathroom combo. I’ve also never had furniture as nice as this ornate white set, and certainly not with any two matching pieces.

He pulls out a pink bathroom rug and then sweeps the rejected remainder into yet another bag before nodding toward the bedroom door. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

I follow him, dreading this conversation. My head is spinning from the oddest ten minutes of my life and now I’m going to have to reveal a few things I’d rather not discuss.

Davis doesn’t seem like the kind of man you lie to. Nor does he seem like he will accept half a story. He’s not going to get the entire thing out of me though. Right?

He points at the couch. “Sit.”

I drop down in the exact spot he’s indicated, watching his huge frame as he heads for the refrigerator. He returns moments later with two bottles of water. After handing me one, he speaks again. “We’ll get dinner in a bit, but I want you to tell me exactly what’s going on first.”

I sigh and look down to fiddle with the plastic wrapper on the water bottle.

He drops down onto the coffee table, facing me, inches away.

I lift my gaze, surprised by his choice of seating. Yeah, he’s intense.

When I don’t speak, he starts for me. “So, you were working at the Sky Lounge. How long?”

“A year.” That’s an easy question.

He nods. “Were you a dancer?”

I flush and look down. “Yes.”

He lifts my chin with two fingers and meets my gaze. “No reason to be embarrassed. Not judging you. Just trying to understand.”

I swallow. There is no way to avoid the embarrassment. I’m a stripper.

“Why do you have two jobs?” he asks.

I draw in a breath. “I started working at the shelter recently. I really would have liked to be able to quit at the Lounge, but the truth is that I can’t make that kind of money doing something else.”

He frowns. “Why work at the animal shelter at all if you weren’t going to quit the Lounge? You’ve got to be exhausted. When do you sleep?”

I sigh and offer him a partial smile. “I sleep a few hours in between each job.”

“And my first question?”

I draw in a breath. Might as well just tell him the honest truth. “I was losing myself at the Lounge. I wanted to do something during the day that made me feel more…real. Something where I would interact with regular people who aren’t there to, uh…” I shouldn’t have said that much.

“To what, Britney?” He leans closer, his elbows on his knees.

I lift my gaze. “To stare at my tits and drool. Happy?”

He closes his eyes. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You asked.”

He reaches out for one of my hands and clasps it in his. It happens so fast that I think he shocked himself. He strokes the backs of my knuckles tenderly and then releases me. Sitting up taller again, he continues, “So what happened last night?”

I run a hand through my hair and tuck it behind my ear. “I went in at my regular time to get changed and ready to work, but as I was heading to the dressing room where all the girls get fixed up, I heard my name coming from my boss’s office. I should have kept going, but something made me hesitate. I stood silently in the hallway and listened to my boss talking to another man.”

I squeeze my eyes shut at the memory and shudder deeply.

Davis sets his hand on my arm and strokes gently. “It’s okay. You’re totally safe now. Go ahead.”

Am I? I don’t think so. “I didn’t like the way they were talking about me. Freaked me out. So, I backed up silently and left the building. I was too shook up to go back to my apartment, and the next thing I knew I was in the parking lot of the shelter. Seemed like my best option until I could think and regroup.”

He nods and gives me a few moments to draw in several deep breaths. “What did they say, Britney?” His voice is kind but firm.

I flatten my palm on my forehead, my stress level rising. “Surely I’m overreacting and I misunderstood.”

“Britney…” he warns. His voice is softer when he speaks again. “What did they say, sweetie?”

I look at him. Why is he being so nice? His gaze is intense. Deep brown eyes stare back at me. Somehow, I know I can trust this man. Somehow, I know he won’t laugh at me or tell me I’m crazy. I draw in a slow breath. “My boss was telling the other man…” I just can’t get the words out. I don’t want to speak them out loud.

Davis slides his hand down my arm to clasp mine again. He holds it against my thigh and waits.

I find the strength. “He said he had a buyer…” I swallow, that word stuck in my throat, blocking me from continuing.

“A buyer for what?” Davis asks gently.

“Me.”

Davis stiffens. He doesn’t