Chapter 12

Aaron

The flickering light of the television screen bounces off the living room walls as I lounge on Starla's cozy couch, scrolling through countless shows. The sound of ice clinking against glass drifts from the kitchen, and I smile at the thought of Starla mixing up her famous cocktails.

"Find anything good to watch yet?" Starla calls out.

"Not yet," I reply, continuing my search for the perfect show. "But there's so much to choose from."

As I contemplate our options, I think about how different Starla is from anyone I've ever met in our small town. Her unconventional interests and openness intrigue me, and I admire her strength in embracing her true self despite the judgment she's faced.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. My heart leaps into my throat, and I bolt upright, instinctively launching myself off the couch.

"Starla!" I shout, my voice strained with concern. "Are you okay?"

I barrel into the kitchen, adrenaline pumping through my veins. My mind races with worst-case scenarios, wondering if any of my paramedic training will be needed to help her.

As I round the corner, I see Starla standing amidst shattered glass, clutching her right hand. Blood trickles down her finger, and my training kicks in immediately.

"Starla, don't move," I say, trying to remain calm for both of our sakes. "I got you."

Swiftly, I pick her up, being careful not to let her step on any shards and place her on the opposite kitchen counter. I can tell she's shaken, but she tries to play it off with a weak smile.

"Really didn't mean to make such a mess," she says, her voice quivering slightly.

"Hey, don't worry about that," I reassure her. "Let's just focus on getting you patched up."

Examining her finger, I determine that, while the cut is deep, it doesn't warrant a trip to the hospital. I mentally run through the steps I need to take, prioritizing Starla's well-being over everything else. Grabbing a clean bowl from a nearby cabinet, I fill it with warm water and mix in some soap.

"Where are your Band-aids?" I ask, looking up at her.

"Top shelf, in the bathroom. There's a small box with a red cross on it," she replies, her breathing starting to steady.

"Alright, just sit tight. I'll be right back," I tell her, before dashing to the bathroom.

As I retrieve the Band-aids and return to Starla, I'm reminded of the pressure I've always felt to succeed in both my careers. Right now, all that matters is taking care of her.

Gently, I take Starla's injured hand and dip her finger into the warm soapy water, cleaning the wound. She winces momentarily, but then gives me a grateful smile.

"Thank you, Aaron," she whispers, her eyes locked on mine.

"Of course," I reply softly.

I carefully dry her finger with a clean towel before opening the small box of Band-aids. Selecting one, I gently wrap it around her cut, securing it in place. Our fingers brush against each other as I work, sending a jolt straight to my crotch. Anytime I’m in close proximity to this woman, she has that effect on me.

"Stay right here. I'm going to clean up the glass," I command, my concern for her overriding any other thoughts at the moment.

"Okay, I won't move," Starla promises, settling comfortably on the counter.

As I sweep up the broken glass, my mind wanders to how I met Starla in front of her store and laugh at the memory of those little old church ladies with protest signs marching up and down the sidewalk.

With the last of the glass gone, I glance back at Starla, who watches me intently.

"Alright, all cleaned up," I announce, setting the dustpan aside. "Ready to get down?"

"Yep, thanks again," she replies, taking my hand for support.

As I take her hand, I move closer to Starla and lift her from the counter. Our bodies slide against each other as I help her down and the passion inside us ignites like a wildfire. We share a heated gaze, both of us seemingly trying to catch our breaths.

"Can you... take me to my bedroom?" she asks hesitantly, her cheeks flushed.

"Of course," I reply, my voice low and husky.

I lift her up again, and she wraps her legs around my waist as we share a brief yet passionate kiss.

As we make our way down the hall to her bedroom, I realize this moment we're about to share isn't just about physical release. It's about opening ourselves up to each other completely.

My heart races as we reach the entrance to Starla's bedroom, her legs still wrapped around my waist.

"Put me down for a moment," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear. I comply, setting her gently on her feet, and she steps back, gazing into my eyes. "I want to try something special."

"Anything," I reply, meaning every word. I'd do anything to make her happy; to see her smile.

"Remember when I told you about my favorite toy?" she asks with a sly grin, and I nod, recalling our conversation about her luxurious high-tech vibrator. "Well, I thought it might be fun to use it with you."

"Sounds intriguing," I say. I've never tried anything like this before, but I’d love to explore new things with Starla. She’s the expert when it comes to knowing what will make us both feel good, so I have to trust her.

With a teasing glint in her eye, she undresses herself slowly, allowing me to admire her body in all its beautiful entirety. Then, she reaches out and begins to unbutton my shirt, her fingers deftly working their way down. As each button comes undone, her lips follow, pressing tender kisses on my exposed skin. My breath catches in my throat, my craving for her growing stronger with every touch.

"Allow me," I murmur, pushing away my own insecurities and taking control of my pants, removing them along with my boxers. We stand there, naked, yet completely trusting in one another.

"Ready?" she asks as she retrieves her vibrator from the nightstand, turning it on with a soft hum.

"Absolutely," I respond, my voice deep with need coursing through me.

She positions herself on the bed, her back pressed against the pillows, and invites me to join her. I lay down beside her, my eyes locked on hers as she begins to touch herself with the toy, using it to tease and tantalize her most sensitive areas while I stroke my raging hard-on.

"Touch me too," she pleads, her voice breathless from arousal. I comply, my fingers finding her wet entrance. The sight of her using the vibrator, combined with the feel of her beneath my fingers, is intoxicating.

"Fuck me, Aaron," she moans, and I can't resist any longer. I get out of bed to grab a condom from my wallet in my discarded jeans and roll the latex on all while watching Starla pleasure herself with the light pink toy.

Then, positioning myself between her legs, I guide myself into her, our bodies joining as she continues to hold the toy against her clit. The sensation of the vibrator against us both only heightens the pleasure, our moans filling the air.

"Starla, you're incredible," I gasp, my movements growing more urgent as she clenches around me.

"Harder, Aaron," she begs, her nails digging into my back. "Please!"

I oblige, thrusting deeper and harder, until our bodies are slick with sweat and our breaths come in ragged gasps. Our climax approaches, a tidal wave of ecstasy that threatens to consume us both.

"Come for me, Starla," I encourage her, feeling her walls tighten around me. "I'm right there with you."

With a shuddering cry, she surrenders to the pleasure, her body trembling as the orgasm rips through her. Her release triggers my own, and I groan her name as I spill into her, our bodies shaking with the intensity of our passion.

As we come down from the high, I collapse onto the bed beside her, our limbs entwined. We share a tender kiss.