Free The Doctor's Damsel (Men of the Capital Book 3) by Cara Nelson

rush week when I was eighteen.”
    “You should have been stamped with a parental advisory. Were you mobbed by frat boys?”
    “No. Of course not. I had a boyfriend,” she said virtuously.
    “I hope he appreciated what he had.”
    “He didn’t. He turned out to be more into guys than I was,” she said nostalgically. She reached for her phone and pulled up a photo to show Abe. “That’s Nick, the college boyfriend, with his husband Jim and their new baby, Adriana!” She beamed. “I’m her godmother,” she added proudly.
     
    Abe shook his head. He had never known anyone so warm, so ready to love everyone and everything, so excited to be dumped by a guy and then go on to be godmother of his child. It was dizzying.
    While Becca dunked her spring roll in ginger sauce, Abe pushed her hair aside and kissed her neck. When he looked up and met her gaze, his eyes were warm with intent. She’d meant to seduce him with German home cooking when all it took was a cowboy hat. She continued to chew her spring roll until it was gone and took a long pull off her favorite purple water bottle. Then she turned into his arms and kissed him until they were both dizzy, desperate for each other.
    Becca pulled away from him.
    “Wait, let me go get changed. I have this silky nightgown,” she promised. He shook his head, eyes dark with lust.
    “I don’t want to wait for a costume change. This works just fine for me.” Abe’s voice was husky. “Where’s the bed in this place?” he asked, indicating the empty bed frame beneath the window.
    “I got tired of staring at the door, waiting for it to be broken down by a monster. I dragged the mattress into my sister’s studio. She’s a sound engineer. This was her place.”
    “Lead the way,” Abe said, his voice barely above a whisper.
    Becca tugged on his hand, glancing back over her shoulder as she pulled him into the soundproof studio and shut the door.
    “This place is a little freaky,” he observed, his gaze encompassing the recording equipment, the foam-covered soundproofed walls, the mattress up against the wall and the assortment of sex toys on the bed. Becca took one look at his alarmed expression and started to laugh.
    “Note the gift bags and ribbon. I was getting stuff ready for the bachelorette party. Not luring you to my torture dungeon where no one will hear you scream .”
    Becca giggled, scooping the variety of novelties into one of the gift bags and dumping it on the floor. She stepped out of her cowboy boots and dropped the hat onto the soundboard to avoid crushing it. There weren’t exactly loads of floor space with the mattress in there. When he didn’t provide any instructions, she started out the way Chris had always told her to. She inched the undershirt up over her flat stomach, her hips rolling in a coy little striptease bump as she slowly slid the shirt up and over her head. Abe shook his head and reached for her again. He’d been standing near the door uncomfortably, but the sight of Becca removing her clothing had spurred him into action.
    “I thought you were interested,” she said hesitantly, a little embarrassed. She was too pushy, always had been, she knew that.
    “I’m more than interested. But you’re not here to put on a show for me. We’re in this together,” he said against her ear.
    He kissed Becca just beneath her earlobe, as he’d wanted to since the day at the coffee shop. She drew back a little, confused. She was used to serving, to pleasing the man she was with. She’d never been with a man who didn’t want her to do all the work, set the scene and provide the enthusiasm. She wasn’t familiar with working together, being a partner. Chris had always wanted her to take off all her clothes so he didn’t have to remove them himself, had wanted her to tell him how amazing he was, how powerful and sexy and irresistible. She felt off balance with Abe.
    “I—don’t know how to do this,” she admitted.
    “What?” he asked,