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

eyebrows going up.
    “Have sex without being—directed.”
    “Directed? Like by your director? I’m not in the theater, you know that.”
    “I don’t know what you like, what you expect me to do,” she clarified. Abe pulled her into his arms, but instead of guiding her or ravishing her, he hugged her and she felt the laugh building in his chest.
    “God, Bec, just be you. What more could any man want?”
    He framed her face with his hands and kissed her, nibbling softly at her lips until he felt the tension leave her. He couldn’t imagine why someone who looked like Becca would be nervous at all. Clearly she’d slept with some bossy morons she was well shot of. He saw this as an opportunity to show her a good time. Frankly, when he saw her in the cowboy hat, he was done for.
    “Abe,” she said, his hand brushing against her bare stomach and sending a bolt of desire through her.
    “Yes,” he said, dipping his head and kissing along her shoulder, her collarbone, lifting her bra strap and sliding it down her arm.
    “I want to know what you like,” she said, still uncertain.
    “I think I told you a while back that despite all expectations, I like you . There’s really nothing you’re going to do that I won’t like. Trust me.”
    Abe thought he had reassured her enough, but she was still unsure of him. He pressed her back onto the bed, coming down over her, and leaned his forehead against hers. If she was used to a selfish lover, he considered it his privilege to surprise her. Kissing her chin, her cheek, her neck, Abe listened, alert for every hitch in her breathing, every gasp that told him what she liked.
    Slowly, he discovered that Becca liked it when he stroked a tight circle below her ear with his thumb while he kissed her mouth; she liked soft, deep kisses and the pressure of his thigh between her legs. She pushed her hands up inside his shirt, gripping his lean back as he moved over her. Abe unbuttoned her cutoffs and worked them down over her hips, stripping them off of her. Taking his cue, she unfastened his jeans and pushed them down, letting him kick them away.
    Instead of tearing her panties off and getting down to business as she expected him to, Abe kissed her mouth slowly, softly as his hands cupped her breasts, rubbing her nipples until they pebbled hard beneath his fingers. She gave a small gasp, then another, louder one. She moaned loudly with abandon and he stopped what he was doing to laugh.
    “Really, Bec?” he asked. “You don’t have to play it up for my benefit. I can tell you’re faking. It’s too fast, too theatrical.”
    “I’m an actress. I’m theatrical. Learn to deal,” she grouched, scooting away from him. “Besides, what do you care if I fake?”
    “I have no interest in being the only one who enjoys the activity.” He pulled her to a sitting position and kissed her forehead. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not into it.”
    She gaped at him. “You’re stopping?”
    “If you want to, yeah. Why is that so shocking?”
    “It’s just—I don’t know,” she said uncomfortably.
    “Not to go all afterschool special on you, but did someone rape you or something?” He asked awkwardly. He had treated assault victims in the ER countless times. This was different, and he was hoping hard that she’d say no, that it hadn’t happened to her.
    “Not really.”
    “Not really? There’s no gray area there, Bec. Either someone forced himself on you or he didn’t. Which is it?” he asked brusquely, bracing himself for the answer.
    “If it’s yes or no only, then it’s no,” she said decisively. “There was a guy, an agent I went out with a few times when I was trying to get into acting right after I dropped out of college. It’s the reason I don’t have an agent, actually. Because when I said no, he said he’d make sure I never found representation. I believed him because I was, I guess, stupid and so I went ahead and sort of caved to the pressure. He