He was the new strawberry pie in her life. She’d had one taste of Zoe’s strawberry pie and that had been it. Nothing else would ever measure up. She would never not crave it. She would never pass up a chance to have it on her tongue.

Yeah, Dax Marshall was that.

And then some.

He pulled back, breathing hard, staring down at her.

She quickly put her hand over his mouth. “Don’t talk. Talking is the wrong choice right now.”

She was going to have to deal with the boss thing soon enough. And the millionaire thing. And the he-doesn’t-live-here-and-isn’t-staying thing. And all the other crap she always had to deal with that made this impossible.

But for another minute—or maybe ten—she didn’t want to think about any of that. And if he talked, that would be very difficult.

He pulled in a breath, gave her a short nod that she interpreted as okay, no talking and she moved her hand.

Which was the right choice, because he leaned in as he slid his hand up the side of her body, skimming over her hip, waist, the side of her breast, up and into her hair. Then he cupped the back of her head and lowered his mouth to hers again.

This time he kissed her.

And seriously, she’d give up strawberry pie for this.

That was the thought that flickered through her mind as he kissed her, holding her with that hand in her hair, the other slipping under the edge of her shirt just above her hip. His palm met bare skin and just rested there, burning into her like a brand. But he didn’t try to move higher, didn’t even rub or stroke, just rested it there.

That area of skin, however, whooped it up. Her nerve endings were dancing, and heat streaked from there throughout her body.

She wanted him to rub and stroke. Lots of places.

He kissed her hungrily but also slow and deep as if he was savoring. Much the way she ate strawberry pie, come to think of it. She didn’t rush through that. She appreciated every bite. She kept it on her tongue as long as possible. She licked the tines of the fork to be sure she didn’t miss a bit.

Dax was definitely kissing her like that. Like he didn’t want to miss even the slightest bit. Like he wanted to drag it out.

His tongue, his lips, the way he held her, the way he put his whole body against her whole body, the way he felt and tasted and smelled… it was a whole experience.

Jane arched closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, tasting him back. She slid her hands into his hair, running it through her fingers, then down the sides of his face, gliding her palms over his short beard. She let go of the sighs and moans that wanted to escape, letting him know she was all in here, totally and completely.

They made out like that for long, delicious minutes.

When he finally took his mouth from hers, it was to slide it along her jawline, his beard causing goose bumps to trip down her arms and tighten her nipples. In her ear he said gruffly, “I have to talk now.”

She laughed lightly. “I didn’t think it would last for even this long, really.”

“Well, I do love using my mouth this way too.” He dragged his lips along the side of her neck.

Her nipples got even tighter, begging for him to drag those lips down there.

“But I can’t resist saying—” He lifted his head. “You are the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. And I really like gummy bears.”

She grinned. “Well… same.”

A very sexy kind of surprised but superhot look crossed his face. “What about those jar pies?”

She sighed. “Those are amazing.”

“But the kissing…” he prompted.

She knew she shouldn’t tell him the truth. The guy’s ego didn’t quit. Already. But she found herself nodding. “I was really hoping you’d be bad at it. Like terrible. Like no-worry-of-dirty-dreams bad,” she said.

He arched an eyebrow. “And?”

She sighed. “It was really good.”

“Dirty-dreams-tonight good?” His voice was rumbly and low.

She nodded. “Unfortunately.”

He looked very pleased by her answer. “Better-than-jar-pie good?”

She nibbled on her bottom lip. She was possibly going to regret telling him this. “Yeah, this was better. Don’t tell Zoe.”

“Do you have dirty dreams about jar pie, Jane?” he asked.

His husky voice caused warmth to twist through her stomach and then slide lower.

“I do,” she admitted.

His mouth curled up. “Maybe we should combine the kissing and the pie.”

Her eyes widened before she could stop it. That would be… holy crap she would never recover. “I can’t even imagine that, honestly. I might die.”

He laughed, his breath warm against her cheek. He cupped her face, running his thumb along her jaw, looking into her eyes.

“Thank you for letting me kiss you.”

“I think I kissed you.”

He nodded. “Thank you for that too.”

He was thanking her for kissing him? This guy… she honestly didn’t know what to think of him. He was so not what she expected nearly every time they talked.

“Do me a favor?” she asked.

“Anything. Except never kiss you again.” He shook his head. “Please don’t ask me that.”

She should. She really, really should. But she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. “I was going to say, please don’t promote me.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know. That was definitely promotion-level kissing.”

She pushed him back and took a deep breath. She needed some space. She needed to stop thinking about kissing him again—when, where, how long did she have to wait? Could they do it somewhere that would be conducive to taking off clothes? “It really was. I was really good just now,” she said. “I can understand you wanting to reward me. You have to resist.”

He let her go, tucking his hands into his back pockets, but he was grinning the grin that, honestly, was a huge part of what had led to this kissing thing in the first place.

“But no promotions,” she said. “I’m serious. I will stop kissing you if you promote me.”

“I hear you,” he said. He reached past her and opened her car door, holding it for her to get in.

Jane resisted the urge to kiss him again. She was not going to keep doing that. He’d told her not to ask him to never kiss her again. Okay, she hadn’t asked him that. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t just not do it again.

“So just expensive gifts, then?” he asked. “Jewelry and stuff. As a ‘reward.’ Since you won’t take a promotion.”

“Absolutely not. I will pawn it all and pocket the money and stop kissing you.” She slid into the driver’s seat then looked up at him. “I had a nice time tonight.”

“Ditto,” he said.

“Thanks for the… pizza.”

“I’ll… eat pizza… with you any time,” he said, pausing the way she had, making it into a funny, hot euphemism. “And,” he added, “I’ll also eat pizza with you any time.”

She smiled. So he’d enjoyed just the pizza and conversation too. Yeah, that had been nice. And also a reason she’d kissed him.

She rolled down her window then pulled the car door closed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”