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Clay Jose Sanchez was a decorated hero--and one of the many wounded warriors recovering from a road side explosion in Afghanistan. Kloe is a new physical therapist who has been assigned to work with Clay, a Latino patient who has managed to alienate every other provider at the hospital. But in looking through his medical records, Kloe discovers his girlfriend had been with him through over thirty surgeries, and then left a seven word handwritten note: "Can't take no more. I'm gone." His pain isn’t just physical.
As they continue to work together in his rehabilitation, they grow so close they begin to invade each other's passionate dreams. It's a miracle that Clay's desire and manhood return. Perhaps it's only a matter of time before he can walk again as well. Kloe has learned to see past the scars and pain to see the true hero he is within.
(This very sexy and inspirational Interracial adults only story contains scenes of explicitly graphic love-making)
I closed the door and listened a moment to the smooth jazz coming from the clock radio I had left on. When I put my head on my pillow I was gone before Fattburger had finished. In my dreams I was whole again. I could move without pain, and when I looked up, Kloe was there. It was a lucid dream again, and I was aware it was a dream because Honey should be here--not someone I had just met.
“You’re a hero,” dream Kloe told me. “You’re just the one I want to be the father of my children.” She smiled, flashing that little space between her teeth at me.
“I always wanted to be a father,” I told her honestly. There had been that slight fear when Honey thought she might be pregnant, but we weren’t ready for that. It was a false alarm, anyway. I tried to think of Honey, but she wouldn’t come. Dream Kloe reached out and traced my lips with her fingertip. She then leaned forward and kissed me lightly.
“See--now we have a goal,” she growled. “Let’s work on it together.” Dream Kloe slowly began to unbutton her white blouse and again I knew this was a dream because she wasn’t wearing the bra I had been staring at earlier, obvious beneath her top.