He stepped toward her and took her hands in his. “Talk to me,” he coaxed. “That’s all I’m asking.”

She wished she could. At one point in time, she’d shared everything with Nathan. She’d leaned on him for support. She missed that closeness.

If only he’d kept his hands off of other women, they might have had a chance.

She yanked her hands back and stepped away. “You lost the right to touch me when you started sleeping around.”

“Apparently I lost the right long before then. Our sex life had been non-existent for months.”

“Somehow I doubt that bothered you very much.” At the look of confusion on his face, she continued, “The truth is you didn’t really want to touch me. Our sex life had deteriorated to just going through the motions. There was no…no…passion.”

“There was passion.”

“No, there wasn’t. But in those pictures of you and Blondie there was plenty of passion.”

He shook his head in denial, which only served to increase her anger.

“Yes, Nathan. It was I-can’t-wait-to-rip-your-clothes-off-and-have-animalistic-sex-with-you passion. We didn’t have that.”

“Is that what you wanted? Animalistic sex? Because if it was, all you had to do was open your pretty little mouth and tell me. I would have been more than happy to oblige.”

“What was I suppose to do, grab the back of your head and say fuck me hard?”

“Yes.”

She gaped at him in astonishment. He said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. As if all women did things such as that on a regular basis.

Maybe they did. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Her parents had drilled into her the importance of always being a lady. Ladies simply didn’t do things like that.

His lips curved up slightly. “You know, in the three years I’ve known you, that’s the first time I’ve heard you say that word.”

Heat rose to her face at the realization of which word he was referring to. “I was angry.”