Page 9 of Love Like Lightning

I don’t work out all that much, but the nature of my job keeps me pretty fit. I’m solid, and I know how I look. I look good.

I most definitely feel it when her eyes snag the CGM that I have on my stomach. Normally, the women I have sex with don’t bother asking about it. Even when I volunteer the information, they’re more interested in getting to the main attraction.

But I get the feeling that Gia will want to know.

“It’s a monitor for my blood sugar. I’m a type 1 diabetic.” I shift to show her the insulin pump site on the back of my arm. “I’ve got a pump that delivers the insulin I need. I use this kind of bandage over it just to keep it secure.” I mention it because the only time women tend to worry about the devices I use is if they think they’ll rip them out accidentally. Which, to be fair, could happen. I’ve almost done it accidentally a couple of times myself.

“Oh, okay. Thank you for telling me.” Concern starts to cloud her eyes, and I definitely don’t want that. Part of the allure of one-night stands is that the women don’t usually care about me beyond what I can do for them physically.

“No worries. It’s not a big deal. I just wanted to let you know. I promise I can still fuck with the best of them.”

Why the hell would I say that? This woman's got me all twisted up in the head.

I can tell she has more questions, but I don’t want this to derail us, so I take a few steps forward until I’m standing right in front of her. Being over six feet tall puts me at a serious height advantage in most things, but I swear it makes kissing people much shorter than me a pain in the neck.

Literally.

Gia’s sitting at around five eight, so thankfully, it’s not a hardship kissing her.

Leaning down, I dip my head to her ear. “Is it okay if I kiss you now?” I drag my nose down her jaw, bringing my face a few inches in front of hers, and wait for her to answer.

And her answer is so clear I couldn’t miss it if I tried. Her lips gently press against mine; her body sways into mine.

I let her control the pace of the kiss, keeping it soft and sweet. When I don’t pull her in closer or slip my tongue into her mouth, a low, frustrated sound escapes her.

And then her arms are up and around my shoulders, and her fingers are in my hair. Looping my arms around her waist, I pull her in closer and try to bend low enough to accommodate our height difference.

In the next second, she jumps and wraps her legs around my waist, completely negating the issue.

“You’re annoyingly tall,” she mumbles against my lips as she adjusts against me.

She captures me in another kiss before I can respond, so I just smile against her lips. My hands travel up and down her back, and I slip my fingers just beneath the band of her bra.

A rough tug jerks my head back and pulls a sharp gasp from me. I swallow a moan at the aggressive move and try to tamp down the arousal coursing through my veins. I don’t want to rush this. Not even a little bit. But fuck, this feels almost too good.

In this position, Gia and I are more or less at eye level, and when I meet her gaze, there’s annoyance very clearly twinkling in her eyes.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” she demands, squeezing her thighs around me.

It takes me a moment to respond because I’m still trying to figure out why her pulling my hair like that has me so keyed up. Then she does it again, angling my head back so she’s almost looking down at me.

This time I can’t contain the moan that slips out, and I watch as she realizes she’s the one who made that happen. Her fingers quickly loosen, and she drops her hand to my shoulder, her eyes wide. For just a millisecond, her eyes smolder impossibly darker before they shutter, leaving me almost cold with the loss of the fire in them.

I clear my throat and finally answer. “I’m not trying to rush this, and I actually really like making out.”

“Is this how you always kiss the women you hook up with?”

As I open my mouth to respond, I realize the answer is no. But she’s not them. Not even a little bit, it seems.

It’s not like I treat anyone badly…but the women I usually hook up with tend to do this kind of thing just as often as I do. Or at least more regularly than Gia. So maybe I am pumping the brakes a little more than I usually do.

By the time I figure out how to voice that, she beats me to it.

“I trust that you know how to show a girl a good time. So feel free to do the same for me.”

The conviction in her voice is so honest and real that I only hesitate for one heartbeat before doing just that.

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