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did, he didn’t fit the mold. He preferred monogamy to one-night stands and could count his past serious girlfriends on one hand.
    Most of the women he’d dated had come to resent the time he spent on his music, the weekends when he played in the clubs with scantily clad women coming on to him. Eventually, the relationships ended because the woman got tired of sitting home alone weekend after weekend. The time apart fostered suspicions of unfaithfulness that festered until it didn’t matter what was real. The truth was he’d never cheated on any of his girlfriends.
    Unfortunately, reality wasn’t as strong as perception. Groupies flocked to his shows, throwing themselves—as well as various pieces of clothing—at him, and that fact was simply too difficult for his previous girlfriends to handle.
    “I haven’t had sex in nearly a year, you know that.”
    She nodded. “Since you and Jessica split.”
    Jessica had been his longest—and most tumultuous—relationship. Rob lost count of how many times they’d broken up and gotten back together. Now, after a year, he still couldn’t understand why he’d kept going back to her. Zoey claimed it was because Jessica was safe. His conscience considered her a girlfriend, so he could get laid on a fairly regular basis. Meanwhile, his common sense wouldn’t let the relationship grow into anything more serious. When Jessica suggested they get married, he’d proven Zoey’s theory right as he backpedaled—big time—claiming they had a good thing and they shouldn’t screw it up. Jessica read the writing the on the wall, broke things off and was married within six months to some guy from the gym she went to.
    “Why hasn’t there been another woman?” Zoey asked. “I know you must get propositioned nightly. I’ve witnessed at least a thousand of those dirty invitations myself.”
    He shrugged. He knew why, but he wasn’t sure how to tell Zoey the truth. There wasn’t a woman alive who could compare to her. How could he tell her that and have her believe the words came from his heart, that they weren’t based on fear or worse, pity?
    Rather than answer, he played the coward. Leaning forward, he drew his tongue along one of her nipples. Zoey gasped, her hands clenching his hair in a way that told him she liked what he was doing. He offered the same easy stroke to her other nipple.
    “God,” she whispered on a gasp. Her hips began gyrating again and he knew he was in trouble.
    Flipping positions, he laid her beneath him on the couch. Common sense said he should get her upstairs to his bed where they’d have room to move around, to do this right. Reality said there wasn’t time.
    Her legs opened, welcoming his hips between them. They continued to kiss as the heat around them grew heavier, hotter. Sweat formed at his temple. Lifting slightly, he nudged the opening of her pussy with the head of his cock. Zoey wrapped her ankles around his back, urging him forward.
    He froze. Condom.
    His gaze captured hers, but again, she didn’t need the words.
    She shook her head. “No. Nothing between us.”
    Zoey had been on birth control since she was sixteen and had snuck off to the free-health clinic with a couple of girlfriends. He’d given her shit for it at the time, wanting to know why she needed it. Jesus. What a blind fool he’d been. Even then, he’d been jealous, possessive of her. Zoey had asserted it was to make her periods easier, more regular. Given the fact she didn’t lose her virginity for another year, he believed her reasoning.
    He kissed her to stop himself from asking the question hovering on his lips. It took every bit of strength in him not to ask her if she was sure about this. About them.
    Rob didn’t want to give her an out. Fuck. He couldn’t. He needed her.
    He pushed in farther, burying his cock about an inch inside. Then, his damn conscience forced him to stop. He released her lips and pulled away so he could see her face. He had to know this