She figured Dax had experienced plenty of fancy, colored, skimpy panties in his time though. This was real-life, regular-girl, small-town, front-seat-of-a-car sex. It was good to expand his horizons.

She reached for his zipper at the same time he reached for her panties. He got there first. And she forgot what she’d been about to do. He ran his finger up and down her center, brushing over her clit and, no doubt, feeling just how hot and wet she was.

Jane closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been a while since someone other than her had touched that particular area. That area was very grateful for the attention.

“Really need your pants out of the way,” she said, her voice tight.

“I’m busy,” he told her, rubbing up and down again.

“Dax,” she ground out. She was trying very hard not to just start begging him to slide his finger in…

His finger slipped under the edge of her panties and he stroked over her with no barrier. Jane couldn’t breathe, and her thighs tightened on either side of him, squeezing.

“I…”

“Yes, Jane?” he asked, circling her clit leisurely. “Were you going to say something?”

“I… don’t know.” It was just his finger. Something better and bigger was just a few inches away, but his finger was right there doing very nice things, and she couldn’t think about anything else suddenly except that digit teasing and filling her. She tipped her head back and gripped his wrist. She lifted slightly, guiding his hand down to right where she needed him, and then sank down, his thick middle finger sliding into her.

“Oh yes,” she said, almost panting.

“Fuck,” Dax answered. “That’s so hot, Jane. Show me exactly what you need.”

Her eyes flew open and she met his gaze. His finger was pumping in and out of her and his thumb was circling her clit. It was awesome. But he’d said she could show him exactly what she wanted, right? She leaned in, bracing her hand on the seat above his shoulder. It put her breast right at mouth level for him.

“Make me come, Dax,” she said huskily.

“My fucking pleasure.” He added a second finger as he took her nipple in his mouth, sucking hard.

She cried out at the sensations ripping through her. God, she needed this. This was the culmination of all the feelings and fantasies about this guy she’d been trying to fight.

She wasn’t fighting anymore.

He licked and sucked, thrust and circled. He told her how much he wanted her and how she really did smell, and taste, like cake everywhere, and how perfect her curves were, and how hot her bossiness was. She shifted, putting her mouth against his and moving her hips wantonly against his hand.

And then lightning struck and a swift, hard orgasm shot through her.

“Dax!” she cried out, letting it all go. “Oh yes!”

“God, Jane,” he rasped. “Yes. Hell yes.”

She took his face in her hands and kissed him again. Pleasure was still coasting over her, and the orgasm had been intense and so very needed, but she still wanted more.

“Pants,” she said against his mouth. “Please get your pants out of the way.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through her too. She sat back and was shocked, and turned on, when he slid his hand from her panties and lifted it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean, his eyes on hers. “Better than cake.”

That was so hot. She shook her head. She’d expected him to be playful with sex but not necessarily dirty. She didn’t know why. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Seriously.” He lifted one of those magical fingers to her mouth. “Want to see?”

“Uh, no.”

“Forget chocolate,” he said, sliding his finger over her bottom lip. “This is what I want to dip strawberries in.”

Instinctively her tongue darted out to follow the path. She didn’t taste anything unusual—he’d sucked that finger pretty clean—but it felt dirty anyway.

And she really wanted to take a big old bowl of strawberries to bed with Dax.

“Strawberries in bed would get very messy,” she told him.

“Yes,” he agreed. “It would take a lot of licking and sucking to clean up.”

Her muscles, which had just been treated to a very nice orgasm, clenched at that.

“Not to mention a nice long shower after,” she said. A fully naked Dax, wet and slippery, backing her up against the shower wall? Yes. Yes, yes, yes.

“Exactly.” He reached between them and unbuttoned his fly. “Now, what were you saying about my pants?”

“They are very much in the way.”

“I agree.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You want to do zipper duty or condom duty?”

“Both.” She quickly reached for his zipper, pulling it down and then wiggling the denim and boxers over his hips, freeing his erection.

His cock was amazing. Long and thick and hard, and a shiver of pleasure went through her as she wrapped a hand around it and stroked.

“Jane,” Dax said.

It sounded like he was talking through gritted teeth and she looked up. Still stroking. “You okay?”

“About thirty seconds away from embarrassing myself and ruining the chance to thrust up into that sweeter-than-cake pussy,” he told her bluntly. “Move your hand.”

She didn’t want to. She hesitated.

Dax wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her way. “Girl, you’re going to kill me.”

He put the condom packet to his mouth, ripping it open with his teeth, apparently not trusting that he could let go of her wrist.

He was right. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to take him into her mouth. She wanted to explore every inch of him and make him crazy.

Dax reached between them, rolling the condom on one-handed. Then he let her go. She stroked her hand up and down his cock, smoothing over the condom. He just let her, but his abs were tight, and he was barely breathing.

Emotions washed over her just then. It was so dumb, the timing so strange, but suddenly she was overcome with affection and happiness. This man was something else. They were going to have sex in the front seat of her car and he wasn’t batting an eye. Sure, he would have whisked her off to his hotel suite and put her down on eighteen-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, ordered strawberries from room service, and made a mess that someone else would have to clean up. Though he was probably a really great tipper. He absolutely seemed like a great tipper. Also a huge point in his favor.

He also would have gone back to her place with her and wouldn’t have cared that she hadn’t made her bed in a week or that she had laundry sitting in a basket on her kitchen table. Or that she would have wanted to not make a big mess with strawberries because she was the one who would be cleaning that up.

Turned out, Dax Marshall wasn’t as high maintenance as she’d initially thought. In fact, he was helpful and supportive and… really, really wonderful.

“You’re…” She started. But her throat got tight, and she didn’t know what she’d been about to say for sure anyway.

He paused, studying her, waiting for her to go on. But after a moment, he seemed to sense she couldn’t.

“Fucking crazy about you,” he told her, reaching out and clasping her waist. “And in desperate need of feeling you wrapped tight around my cock and moving that gorgeous body on me.” He moved her forward.