Husband Never Let Me Touch Him

Synopsis

Vivian Grant craved touch like other people craved air, but her husband, Lucas Sterling, was a germaphobe with zero sex drive. She'd brush against him, and he'd go through half a bottle of hand sanitizer. She'd kiss him, and he'd brush his teeth a dozen times. One night, she pretended to be drunk and climbed into his bed, and he threw her out along with all the sheets she'd touched. He looked down at her like she was a piece of dirty gum stuck to his shoe. "Are you really that desperate?" The cold words hit her like a slap across the face, and she stood there shaking. Three years of living like a widow. After three years of trying everything, he never budged. The most pathetic moments were when she'd sneak into his closet and hold his discarded shirts just to feel close to him, like some kind of pervert. Vivian finally admitted defeat and went to her study to print out the divorce papers she'd been keeping ready. She was about to head to the guest bedroom to get his signature when she saw him suddenly walk out of the master bedroom and head straight for his office at the end of the hall. Before Lucas took over Sterling Group, he'd been a sculptor, and whenever he was home, he spent most of his time in this studio. He'd even spent their wedding night in there. The studio was his forbidden territory—a place he'd declared completely off-limits.