Love At First Aid

Scarlett stood in her driveway, still rocking from ramming the garage door with her front bumper. Madison spotted her from next door, EMT badge clipped to her belt, already crossing the lawn before Scarlett could wave her off. "Let me take a look," Madison said. Inside the house they drifted into the living room. Madison’s hands moved over Scarlett’s arms, checked her pupils, brushed the side of her neck. Conversation dropped into low tones, each of them half-smiling at the charge that kept flicking between them. When Madison offered to stay the night, Scarlett’s answer came out fast—yes—almost before the words finished. Madison kept going, palms sliding under Scarlett’s shirt, fingertips counting ribs, tracing around the swell of each breast, making sure everything was in place. The air thickened. Madison finally admitted the crush she’d been nursing; her voice stayed steady but her eyes didn’t. Scarlett answered by arching into the next touch. After the check-up, Madison mentioned grabbing an ice pack for the heat in Scarlett’s face. Scarlett shook her head. She was burning everywhere and had a better idea. She pulled Madison closer, kissed her hard, shoved both their clothes off before they hit the couch. Madison’s mouth went to Scarlett’s throat, then lower, teeth scraping across her nipple while two fingers slid straight between her legs. Scarlett gasped, hips lifting, already wet, grinding against the knuckles working inside her. Madison fucked her deep on the cushions, thumb stroking her clit with each thrust, tongue sliding along the edge of her jaw. Scarlett came once, sharp and loud, then again when Madison flipped her over and took her from behind, holding her down by the shoulders. The garage dent didn’t matter. Neither did the clock. They stayed tangled until the sweat cooled and the sun edged through the blinds.