“What if he tried to lick you?” Noah asked, taking a step toward her.
“I’d stop him. I’d tell him I wasn’t feeling up to it and for him to fuck me, to take me.”
“Even now, you blush saying those words.”
“I shouldn’t have told you any of this.”
“I’m glad you did. So you not being aroused started the arguments?” he asked.
“Yes. He wanted to know what was wrong with me. Why I didn’t want his touch. It was all my fault. The breakup of my marriage. I went to therapy, and it didn’t work. She wanted me to talk about what happened then. Why couldn’t people just leave it alone? It’s in the past.”
He stepped right up to her, taking her by the chin, tilting her head back. “Because you can’t let it go. You’re living it every single day. Even now.”
“I don’t know how to stop.”
Noah stroked a finger down her neck. “What else happened?”
Her stomach chose that moment to growl.
“Let’s get you something to eat before I start questioning you again.”
She was more than thankful for her stomach’s interruption. His questions, they held too much pain, too much invasion, and she honestly didn’t think she was strong enough to handle them.