Not ever. He shouldn’t compare, didn’t want to compare, but his brain was busy conjuring up other times and places and not once had a woman reacted like this. Not anyone. Not even Simone. Zoey’s eyes were glassy green orbs, half drowned by wet lashes, real lashes, and they were long enough and curling enough that he wondered why she ever felt the need to add more. An aftershock ran through her sleek, slick body, and her eyes fluttered closed again. ‘I’ll get to you, I will,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t mean to fade on you. I’m all inspired and I have so many ideas. Just give me a minute.’ She looked as if she could use a solid eight hours. ‘How about you save those ideas for another time?’ ‘Not how it works.’ ‘How ‘bout if I tell you I came approximately two seconds after you did?’ ‘Did you?’ ‘You could always stick your hand in my shorts and find out.’ She did. Her lips curved lazily. ‘Well, hello.’ And then she lifted her hand to her mouth, licked a stripe across her finger and tasted him and it was his turn to unload a curse.
