Captain Of Her Heart by Barbara Devlin

could happen to anyone, as they are both white.”
    “Perhaps I can set it right?  It may only require the addition of salt to counteract the sweetness.”  Her mouth fell agape, when he snatched her plate from the table and stood.  “Wait—what are you doing?”
    “This fare is fit for neither man nor beast.”  Jason dumped their portions into the pot, which he then carried outside.  With a hearty heave-ho, he tossed the food to the ground.  “Woe the poor creature that stumbles upon your odious feast.”
    “You are horrible to make fun of me.”  Alex folded her arms and loitered in the doorway.
    “No, your stew is horrible, and I am honor-bound to save us from it.”  He halted at the edge of the stoop, as their respective positions brought them almost eye-to-eye.  In a single swift move, he twined her braid in his hand and gently tugged.  “But I am proud of you, love.”
    “Proud of what?  Regardless of my hard work, I produced an inedible meal unworthy of praise.”  She mustered a precious pout and lowered her chin in defeat, and he claimed a whisper of a kiss.  “And I did so wish to please you.”
    “Darling Alex.”  Jason pulled her closer and rubbed his nose to hers.  “What matters is that you tried.”
    And then in defiance of his instincts, he freed her braid, wrapped an arm about her waist, claimed her mouth in a sumptuous assault, carried her into the house, and kicked the door shut behind him, without ever breaking contact.  After dropping the empty pot to the table, Jason unleashed his hands, resting a palm to her delectable derriere and the other at the nape of her neck.  When he rocked his hips into hers, Alex favored him with a sultry moan, as their tongues dueled.
    The erotic heat of his society maiden, coupled with her succulent lips, far more tempting than the sweetest confection, well nigh drove him insane.  And when she wound her arms about his shoulders, and speared her fingers into his hair, he shifted his attention to her modest but accommodating dress.
    In seconds, he perched in a chair, situated his lady in his lap, untied the ribbon at her bodice and chemise, and then bared one breast. At that point, he halted, only to discover Alex watched him.  Why was he not surprised?  So he pressed on her pliant flesh caresses intended to incite—to arouse.  And he recalled the first time he had touched her thus, albeit through a heavy gown.
    In the drawing room at Seymour House, in London, just prior to enlisting his aid in Cara’s plan to catch Lance, Alex had caught his wrist and set his palm to her bosom.  To his chagrin, he had assumed her silent plea indicative of a healthy desire for him.  Now he wondered if her bold behavior had been nothing more than means to an end.
    Holding her gaze, Jason licked her pert nipple, and his lady gave vent to a plaintive cry.  Her cheeks flushed a lovely pink, yet she belied no hint of shyness, trepidation, or fear.  So he repeated the decadent maneuver, but he lingered and suckled, as she bucked and wiggled, and his thighs erupted in flames.
    To her credit, Alex never averted her stare, even as he teased her soft skin with gentle nips of his teeth, and in that moment he realized she wanted him.  That knowledge worked on him in ways he could not have foreseen, and he turned it to his advantage.  “Why did you not tell me the truth about Lance and Cara?”
    “What?”  She inhaled a shivery breath, as he sucked hard on her nipple.  “ Jason .”
    “I want to know, Alex.”  Wielding his tongue as a weapon, he lured her into his trap.  “I will have the whole of it.”
    “Because Cara begged me not to betray her confidence.”  She wrenched her head from side to side and then bit the fleshy part of her hand.
    “And you value her affinity more than mine?”  Again and again, he plied her with a licentious massage.
    “No.”  With something between a sob and a sigh, she arched her back.  “Jason— please