“Four,” he said. “Including you.”

She gaped at him for what felt like five minutes and then sputtered, “Liar!”

“I didn’t call you a liar. Why do you think I’m one?”

“Because. Because you’re a gorgeous rock star. You must have women hanging all over you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t have sex with them. I only have sex when I feel a connection with a woman, and that doesn’t happen very often.”

So was he saying he felt a connection with her?

“I have fooled around a lot,” he said. “I’m not a saint.”

“Then why did you tell me you’ve only been with three other women?”

“Because I place a certain emphasis on being inside a woman. It’s important to me and I thought maybe it was important to you too. If it’s not, that’s okay. I just wanted to know what kind of woman destiny insists I feel a connection with.”

There he went with that destiny stuff again. Couldn’t they have just met by chance, had a few things in common—most notably music—found each other attractive and decided that a little pleasure would go well with their newfound compatibility?

“Tell me about your other lovers,” he said. “I want to know what I’m up against.”

Her eyes widened. This was like taboo stuff to talk about so early in a relationship. But wait—was this even a relationship yet? Hardly. But she found herself telling him anyway.

“I lost my virginity on prom night.”

“Cliché,” he said with a soft smile. “Was it good for you?”

“No. It was awkward and it hurt and I didn’t even like the guy. I hadn’t ever been on a date before. My dad somehow talked one of his colleague’s sons into taking me to his prom, since I was homeschooled and would have missed out on all the fun. I didn’t know anyone there. I was so socially awkward and apparently naive. He gave me my first kiss. First tongue kiss. First boob fondle. First touch down below. First penetration. All in the same night. I didn’t know how to stop him. I wanted him to stop, but I was scared and confused, so I just let it happen. I never saw him again after that night, and I’m glad. I’d probably have thrown up if I ever had to be in the same room with him again.” Just thinking about that night so many years ago made her feel queasy.

“What a scum-sucking son-of-a-bitch,” he said. “You don’t count that one, Dawn. That’s called date rape.”

She shook her head. “Except I never told him no. I just thought it. And thought it. And thought it. But I never said it.”

“If you didn’t want to do it, it was rape. I’ve had a lot of women who can’t take no for an answer. It’s never progressed to actual intercourse, but even being touched when you don’t want to be touched doesn’t feel right. It bothers me every time it happens.”

Dawn’s belly flipped over. “But I touched you when you didn’t want to be touched. I’m sorry if it bothered you.” She hadn’t even thought that her coming on so strong to Kellen might have made him feel the way that Jonathan Kingsley had made her feel. How wretched of her.

He chuckled. “Are you kidding? The only kind of bothered you caused was hot and bothered. I wanted you to touch me so badly I thought I was going to rip those boxer shorts in half with my boner. There is a difference between reluctance and rejection. That asshole stole something from you that he had no right to take.”

Not many people knew what had happened to her on prom night. It wasn’t like she could have told her parents. She didn’t have close friends until college, and they’d thought losing her virginity behind a Dairy Queen was funny, because she usually told it as a humorous story. She didn’t know why she’d expressed her true feelings when she’d told Kellen about it. And Kellen’s understanding about why it had been so mortifying made her feel better.

“You know, it wasn’t your fault,” he added, and gently rubbed his knuckles up and down her bare arm.

Kellen was right—it hadn’t been her fault. But for a long time she’d blamed herself for not knowing what to do or how to make him stop. It had never occurred to her to blame Jonathan Kingsley.

“I hope the other two treated you right,” Kellen said. “I don’t want to hear about some other jerk hurting you.”

“No. There was just the one jerk. My second lover was my only long-term boyfriend. We dated for months before we finally slept together. Michael was even less experienced than I was, but once we became intimate, we had a whole lot of fun figuring out what felt good. We broke up after college. He wanted to go to China and teach English. I told him to have fun without me.”

“You didn’t want to go with him?”

“Our relationship had grown stale. I’d fallen out of love with him, but he never did anything wrong, so I didn’t know how to break up with him. How do you end a relationship just because it’s boring? His going to China finally gave me the excuse I’d been waiting for.”

“Aww, you didn’t want to hurt his feelings, did you? I didn’t realize you were so nice.”

“Nice? I was a doormat. But those were the end of my doormat days. I dated several guys after college, but I was so wrapped up in my music that none of those relationships progressed and I ended up sleeping with only one of them. That was a couple of years ago.”

“Well, that explains why we jumped into bed with each other so quickly. We were both hornier than a bucket of desert toads.”

His sense of humor continually surprised her. He seemed so serious and deep, and then he let loose with something like that.

“I can tolerate horniness,” she said. “I think I jumped into bed—or rather onto piano—with you because you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met. I’m usually expert at controlling my baser needs. I’ve been called an ice princess and a cold bitch more than once at the end of a third date, fourth date, and fifth date with no action.”

“I’ll have to take your word on it. I didn’t experience any ice or cold.”

“Just a princess and a bitch.”

“Neither. If I had to describe you, I’d say you’re hot, talented, sexy and… horny.”

“You got at least one of those right.”

She shifted so she was straddling his thighs. Did she notice that her wide-open, bare crotch was perfectly aligned with his cock? Of course she did. And she’d be doing something about that soon, but first…

“Your turn,” she said. “Tell me about your other three lovers.”

He was silent for a long moment. God, she hoped he wasn’t thinking about her again. But of course he was. Dawn had point blank asked about her. Dumb, Dawn. Real dumb.

“First there was Jennifer, then Becca, and I’ve already told you about Sara,” he said. “So did you major in music in college? What was that like? I had some guitar lessons, but never studied theory.”

“What?” she sputtered. “That’s not fair. But if you don’t want to share, I’ll just make stuff up in my head. So Jennifer was your sweetheart all through elementary school, but she moved away before you went through puberty. When she returned some years later, she’d grown boobs and—”

He covered her lips with one fingertip.

“Nothing as romantic as that. Jennifer was my first groupie. We were both in high school, but she was a year older than me. She used to come to every band practice. She watched and danced and cheered and dressed in next to nothing and fed my ego. So I screwed her. She fed my ego some more. And I screwed her again. And again and again and again. Like three times a day. She eventually decided she liked drummers better.”

“She cheated on you?”

He nodded.

“Well, that sucks. Did you love her?”

“I liked her. A lot. What seventeen-year-old doesn’t like to get fucked three times a day? I was young and horny and needed my ego fed. No long-term damage was done when she switched band members, though watching her make out with Snake was weird. Not as weird as William Pierce suddenly insisting that everyone call him Snake, but yeah, a bit weird.”