He moved to Gia.
Gia watched him come.
Her jaw was set in the particular way of a woman who has decided to meet a thing head-on because flinching from it is worse.
His fingers found the same place on her — inner thigh, high, the warm-slick skin there — and the same pressure.
The burn came faster for Gia.
Maybe because her body recognized it second. Maybe because some part of her had already been leaning toward whatever this was without her conscious agreement.
'What is—' Her thought dissolved at the peak of the heat. 'What does that—'
She felt it take shape.
The same shape as Nara's. She somehow knew that, without seeing Nara's, the way you know the temperature of a room the moment you walk in.
"HNGH—"
The sound came out before she chose to make it — not pain-sound, the compressed, inheld sound of sensation arriving somewhere too interior for composure.
Her thighs tried to close around his hand.
He didn't move it.
Then Celia.
She'd been watching from the rock.
