lap.
His hands
immediately went to her as he gruffly threaded his fingers into her
hear and pulled her mouth to his. “Trust me Imogen, I’m happy to
oblige” he breathed in her ear, “but first, get your ass downstairs
and into the boxing room”. Luca replied, lifting her off his lap
and back on to his desk, his cock uncomfortably straining against
his shorts with every movement.
“Let’s go” he
said, before reaching for her sock and shoe and slowly easing her
foot in. Her grimace as the shoe went on was his confirmation that
she was hurting; for that he’d go easy on her tonight. Maybe.
CHAPTER
TWO
“Imogen, ten
more. Go” Luca barked from the other side of the boxing bag, “put
some effort in this time”.
Though he was
no longer technically her personal trainer, that’d stopped after a
few weeks when it became clear that a relationship between him and
Imogen was a given, she’d asked him to keep her on track with her
fitness goals and he’d promised her he would.
“Imogen. C’mon,
harder. You know you can,” he shouted firmly, “keep going, five
more then you can rest”.
He saw
dedication laced with annoyance on her face and knew she was
pushing herself harder than normal, but it was his role to get her
to push that little harder, to extend that bit more effort and
energy.
Im, don't push
so hard, you’ve got this babe, just keep steady” he shouted back
encouragingly, holding the bag firmly as she struck it harder and
harder for the last few times.
“You got it” he
shouted to her before coming out from behind the bag and seeing her
bent over and gripping her ankle, her muffled sobs threatening to
shatter the hushed silence that’d fallen between them both.
Rushing to her
side, Luca swept her up in both arms and tucked her head against
his chest before walking over to a weights bench and sitting her on
the edge.
“Ankle?” he
asked, though he already knew it was the problem.
She didn’t
reply straightaway, just sat crying and moaning in pain.
Something was
definitely wrong. Her ankle had always bothered her but she usually
hid the pain behind forced smiles and a nonchalant attitude.
Kneeling before
her, he slowly pulled her face to his and waited patiently for her
eyes to meet his before he wiped away her tears with the hem of his
shirt. “I’m going to look, ok?” he asked tentatively, knowing if
the pain was bad now it’d only increase once the support of the
shoe was taken away and the pressure it was holding in was let
loose in her body.
Slowly easing
the shoe off, he saw the exact moment the pain shot through her leg
and registered behind her eyes. Looking at the golf-ball sized lump
on the side of her ankle it was pretty clear she’d torn a ligament.
Gently prodding the area, he could feel the balloon like swelling
was still forming.
Standing, he
slid his arm under her legs and one behind her back and carried her
upstairs to his office—she was still hot from the workout but her
skin was cool and clammy, the pain obviously causing some shock.
He’d had plenty of patients in the years since finishing his
physiotherapy degree but this was the first time he’d treated
someone he cared about.
As he eased
Imogen onto the couch in his office, he noticed she’d stopped
crying but her eyes were dull and distant.
“Im, how bad is
the pain out of ten” he asked, kneeling beside her and holding her
hand.
“I… I’m not
sure… it’s high, maybe an eight…” she replied quietly, “what’s
happened, why’s my foot so swollen and… the pain, it’s…” she
trailed off.
“Looks like a
torn ligament, Im” he replied, before a fresh batch of tears
threatened to burst from her eyes.
“No, not that
Luca. Check again” she pleaded.
“I don’t need
to babe, I know what I’m seeing and it’s definitely torn. I’m
sorry”, he replied, knowing the setback of six weeks of minimal
movement would be just as painful for Imogen as the
His hands
immediately went to her as he gruffly threaded his fingers into her
hear and pulled her mouth to his. “Trust me Imogen, I’m happy to
oblige” he breathed in her ear, “but first, get your ass downstairs
and into the boxing room”. Luca replied, lifting her off his lap
and back on to his desk, his cock uncomfortably straining against
his shorts with every movement.
“Let’s go” he
said, before reaching for her sock and shoe and slowly easing her
foot in. Her grimace as the shoe went on was his confirmation that
she was hurting; for that he’d go easy on her tonight. Maybe.
CHAPTER
TWO
“Imogen, ten
more. Go” Luca barked from the other side of the boxing bag, “put
some effort in this time”.
Though he was
no longer technically her personal trainer, that’d stopped after a
few weeks when it became clear that a relationship between him and
Imogen was a given, she’d asked him to keep her on track with her
fitness goals and he’d promised her he would.
“Imogen. C’mon,
harder. You know you can,” he shouted firmly, “keep going, five
more then you can rest”.
He saw
dedication laced with annoyance on her face and knew she was
pushing herself harder than normal, but it was his role to get her
to push that little harder, to extend that bit more effort and
energy.
Im, don't push
so hard, you’ve got this babe, just keep steady” he shouted back
encouragingly, holding the bag firmly as she struck it harder and
harder for the last few times.
“You got it” he
shouted to her before coming out from behind the bag and seeing her
bent over and gripping her ankle, her muffled sobs threatening to
shatter the hushed silence that’d fallen between them both.
Rushing to her
side, Luca swept her up in both arms and tucked her head against
his chest before walking over to a weights bench and sitting her on
the edge.
“Ankle?” he
asked, though he already knew it was the problem.
She didn’t
reply straightaway, just sat crying and moaning in pain.
Something was
definitely wrong. Her ankle had always bothered her but she usually
hid the pain behind forced smiles and a nonchalant attitude.
Kneeling before
her, he slowly pulled her face to his and waited patiently for her
eyes to meet his before he wiped away her tears with the hem of his
shirt. “I’m going to look, ok?” he asked tentatively, knowing if
the pain was bad now it’d only increase once the support of the
shoe was taken away and the pressure it was holding in was let
loose in her body.
Slowly easing
the shoe off, he saw the exact moment the pain shot through her leg
and registered behind her eyes. Looking at the golf-ball sized lump
on the side of her ankle it was pretty clear she’d torn a ligament.
Gently prodding the area, he could feel the balloon like swelling
was still forming.
Standing, he
slid his arm under her legs and one behind her back and carried her
upstairs to his office—she was still hot from the workout but her
skin was cool and clammy, the pain obviously causing some shock.
He’d had plenty of patients in the years since finishing his
physiotherapy degree but this was the first time he’d treated
someone he cared about.
As he eased
Imogen onto the couch in his office, he noticed she’d stopped
crying but her eyes were dull and distant.
“Im, how bad is
the pain out of ten” he asked, kneeling beside her and holding her
hand.
“I… I’m not
sure… it’s high, maybe an eight…” she replied quietly, “what’s
happened, why’s my foot so swollen and… the pain, it’s…” she
trailed off.
“Looks like a
torn ligament, Im” he replied, before a fresh batch of tears
threatened to burst from her eyes.
“No, not that
Luca. Check again” she pleaded.
“I don’t need
to babe, I know what I’m seeing and it’s definitely torn. I’m
sorry”, he replied, knowing the setback of six weeks of minimal
movement would be just as painful for Imogen as the
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