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

still wouldn’t represent me, said I wasn’t good enough and I’d never amount to anything. If you think about it, he was probably right. Anyway, I never even spoke to another agent after him.”
    “Aw, shit, Becca—the guy used coercion on you and probably some degree of force. What was he, twice your age? Not that it matters. I mean, a predator is a predator regardless of age, but Christ, didn’t you tell anyone?” he snapped, raking his hand through his hair.
    “I was ashamed of myself for giving in to him, for letting him pressure me. For not being good enough. I don’t know. It isn’t something I’ve ever talked about before. And you’re basically making me wish I hadn’t mentioned it,” she admitted, her voice small.
    Abe practically tackled her, scooping her into his arms and holding her in his lap.
    “You listen to me, Becca. We’re not doing anything you don’t want. Ever. Now tell me what you want to do now. We can go out for frozen yogurt. We can play Scrabble. We can make love. We can go for a walk. Your choice,” he said.
    His voice was steady, his dark blue eyes as noble, as honorable as any knight in any fairy tale she could name. When she opened her mouth to answer, a sob escaped and she dropped her head to his shoulder for a second to collect herself.
    “I don’t want frozen yogurt. I suck at Scrabble. I’m a terrible speller, plus I’d use my phone to cheat.”
    “How about a walk?”
    “No thanks. There’s something I’d rather do,” Becca said, suddenly overwhelmingly too shy to say it.
    So he kissed her to let her know it was okay. Becca was sometimes brash, sometimes demure, but always, always his. Even as he thought it, Abe winced at the truth of it.
    Becca pulled him down on the bed so they were side by side. She brushed his hair back from his forehead.
    “You need a haircut,” she told him with impossible tenderness in her voice, and kissed his forehead.
    “The only thing I need right now is you.” He answered. She closed the inches between them with a kiss.
    Becca took his hand in hers and pressed it against her panties, using his fingers to rub, to stroke. He pushed her panties aside and touched her softly, his fingers gentle in her slick folds. He kept kissing her mouth, one long finger curling inside of her.
    He felt her jerk and shudder, her flesh tightening around his hand until she screamed his name. Abe pulled her into his arms and held her until her heartbeat slowed to a more regular pace. She dragged his shirt off of him urgently, trying to pull him on top of her. Her legs parted for him. He shook his head and pulled her into his lap so she could set the pace. She braced her palms against the wall on either side of his head and lowered herself onto him, pushing his pulsing length inside of her.
    “Yes,” she whispered against his mouth, eyes wide with surprise.
    Becca braced her hands on the wall for leverage and started to move against him. Their hips ground together, finding their rhythm easily.
    She gasped “yes” at every thrust, her cries growing louder and louder. She shouted his name at the moment of crisis, her hair falling over them both as they kissed. He pumped inside of her, holding her so close he could feel her heartbeat against his chest, kissing her, saying things he hadn’t meant to say aloud. Fortunately, she was screaming so loudly that it was unlikely she had registered any of the promises he’d blurted out, any of the true things he’d rather she didn’t know.
    Abe rolled her onto her back and kissed her languorously, his hand trailing along her side and enjoying the shiver that ran through her at his touch.
    “I think I need something out of that bag,” he said, his mouth curving into a wicked smile. He reached over the side of the bed and brought up the feathered riding crop, the one he’d used to send such a jolt through her in the coffee shop. She got a lump in her throat just thinking about that touch.
    Abe ran the length of