As she casually listened to the sound of running water in the bathroom, Kate went about her task with a seething expression on her face. Her lips were pursed, and she wanted to break the dishes she was setting out for him. Not even the pleasing aroma of frying bacon and eggs and perking coffee made her feel better. All she knew was the frustrated tingling in her vagina. She poured a cup of coffee for Mark just as he entered the kitchen, fully dressed and looking as though he was ready to take on the world in his new job.

"Honey… I'm sorry I snapped at you a while ago," he said, determined that he would swallow his pride for the sake of his marriage. "You just have to remember that I feel a little… well… I'm responsible for the two of us. At least for a while, and I'm sort of feeling my way."

"You don't have to explain anything," Kate said in a voice that was so cold and detached that Mark actually shivered. "The fucking all mighty dollar is more important to you than I am."

"The fucking… Honey, are you serious? Because if you really think I believe that…"

But Kate wasn't looking at him. She picked up her own coffee cup and was staring into it. Then she turned her body to one side, wondering if Mark was noticing the way her full, rounded breasts jutted from the sheerness of the nearly transparent cloth of her robe. She knew her nipples were hard, and if Mark was looking at her, there was no way he could not notice that fact. He had hurt her, and she wasn't going to let him get away with that.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you," Mark snapped, feeling himself losing control. When she failed to turn and face him, he decided that he would just go on with what he had to say. "I think you're being childish about this whole thing. There's more to life than fucking, you know. I have to make a living. Jesus! When I first met you, you didn't even know what a cock looked like."