Page 68 of The Road to You
We continue walking until we’re out of sight of the masseria. The sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows onthe ground. I sit under an olive tree, resting my back against it. Lena sits next to me, facing me slightly. She rubs a hand over the cargo pants covering my scar.
She frowns, probably noticing the stiffness in my muscles, and turns to face me. “How’s your leg?”
I sigh, looking down. “It’s…not great,” I admit. At this point, it is impossible to hide anything from her or my family. They both know me well enough to call me out on my bullshit.
She studies me for a long moment. “What do the doctors say? And don’t give me the usual nonsense you tell everyone who asks. What do they really say?”
I smile, grabbing her hand massaging my leg and intertwining our fingers. “The doctors say I might need surgery, but there’s no guarantee I’ll be able to play at the same level again.”
She nods thoughtfully. “Is it something that could improve your mobility?”
“Maybe. They’ll have to take apart my muscle and restitch it together, hoping this time it will heal right. It’s kind of massive. The recovery time is uncertain.” I confess my biggest fear. “I don’t know how long it will take to heal. My body didn’t react as the specialists had hoped, and they’re all at a loss as to what to do. If the guys from the ambulance who peeled me from the side of the car hadn’t recognized me, they would have probably amputated my leg. It wasthatbad.”
She places a hand on my arm. “But you don’t know how much time it will take to recover either way, right? Surgery or not.”
I nod slowly, considering her words. She doesn’t pity me with the usual “I’m so sorry for you,” I’ve heard a million times since it happened. She just puts something into perspective that I’ve already discussed with my agent, Marco, a million times.
“Right. However, there’s also the problem that the procedure’s not guaranteed to fix my leg. It could get worse and leave me limping for the rest of my life. We can’t know. Most of the specialists I found don’t want to risk their careers to try and fix something that probably can’t be fixed. I’m famous, way too famous to put their names on the line for a surgery that could damage me and their career. My leg works as it is now. Badly, but it works.”
“But you still feel pain and limp more often than you care to admit. Your life is already upside down because of this injury. Maybe it can’t be fixed, but maybe it can, making your life better.”
I nod, considering her words. She’s not completely wrong. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to lose my leg, at least not that I know.
“Then maybe it’s worth trying,” she says gently.
I look into her eyes, finding a strength in her gaze I didn’t know she had. Not for me, anyway. She looks like she wants to infuse hope into my heart somehow, and the thought scares me to my bones. I can’t hope. I can’t afford to, because if it’s crushed, I’ll be dead.
We sit in silence for a long moment, the weight of the conversation settling between us. Then, without a word, she leans closer, wrapping her arms around me.
I hold her tightly, the scent of her hair mingling with the earthy aroma of the grove. Our lips meet, a tender kiss that deepens with each passing moment. The taste of hope and love lingers on her lips and fills my chest with heat.
There is no rushing this moment between us. We kiss and nip each other’s skin, tasting and breathing in our scents. It’s a moment of discovery for both of us. The chemistry we had in bed the last time leaves room for something else, something moreprofound. It’s like we discovered our bodies the first time, but now we’re discovering our souls.
I grab a fistful of Lena’s blonde hair and tilt her head to deepen the kiss. She moans in my mouth, pulling a groan from deep in my chest. Her tongue fights with mine in a dance that leaves both of us breathless. When we separate, she locks her eyes with mine and grabs my T-shirt, leaning back and pulling me on top of her.
Her eyes are hooded, filled with lust and love I didn’t expect to find there. It unlocks something in my chest I didn’t even know was buried beneath the surface. I crush my lips on her again, deepening the kiss and nestling myself between her legs.
I feel my arousal build against the heat of her sweet thighs and can’t stop the urge to roll my hips against hers. She moans deep in my mouth, and I enjoy every single second of it, feeling it reverberating in my chest, down to my groin.
“Are you uncomfortable?” I whisper against her lips when I realize she is stretched out on dirt and leaves.
She shakes her head. “Please, fuck me, Michele,” she moans.
I chuckle. “Since you ask so nicely,” I murmur, tracing a path of kisses along her neck.
She grabs the hair at the base of my neck and pulls slightly, eliciting a groan from my chest. I kiss my way down her collarbone, reaching the swell of her breasts, slipping a hand under the yellow sundress that’s been driving me crazy since seeing her this morning, and caress my fingers over her soaked panties.
“Fuck,” I murmur when I feel how ready she is for me. For us.
She squirms under my touch when I pull her panties aside and slip a couple of fingers over her wet folds.
“More, please,” she whines while she grips my hair firmly, closing her eyes and throwing her head back. She is so beautiful when she lets herself go that it almost hurts to look at her.
I push inside her with one finger, and I enjoy the moan escaping her lips. I add a second one and smile when she parts her legs wider to give me full access. I stroke her with slow, lazy movement, watching her lips part and her eyes flutter shut. I push deeper into her and she bites her lip, encouraging me to draw my fingers almost out and push them inside even deeper, then rewarding me with a deep groan.
“Please, Michele, fuck me,” she pleads, locking her eyes on mine.
I chuckle, but it soon dies on my lips when I realize what that entails.
