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Her mouth is warm and wet inside, faintly salty and softer than I expected, with a taste underneath that belongs to her. When her tongue dances with mine, I follow, wanting more before I have a name for what I am tasting.

I change the pressure of my mouth until I find what caused it, then do that again too. Laura responds immediately, pressing closer, and something in me understands the pattern. Not rules. Not instructions. Her.

When I pull back barely an inch, she follows. Her mouth finds mine before I can close the distance again, and this time I do not hesitate. I kiss her harder.

Laura’s hand trails from my chest to my side and hooks at the waistband of my jeans. The grip sends a fresh rush of sensation through me.

I slide my hand to the curve of her back and hold her closer.

There is no part of me that wants distance. Then a sound starts inside my chest. The vibration rolls through the weave of my ribs, deep enough that I feel it wherever Laura is touching me. She feels it too. Her body stills against mine.

I stop.

Her hand is still hooked in my waistband when she asks, “What was that?”

“I do not know.”

The resonance fades slowly, leaving the inside of me strangely quiet without it. Laura’s fingers flex once against me, and the change in her expression is not fear.

“Did it hurt?”

“No.”

She studies my face, but her hand does not leave my waistband.

“Do it again.”

I only stand here. She felt something neither of us understands, something that came from inside my body, and she is asking for it again. She did not move away from the unknown thing. She moved toward it.

I kiss her. Whatever caution I had about the kiss itself disappears. Laura’s arms go around my neck, and when her mouth opens, I follow without waiting for instruction.

The resonance starts again. This time she feels it and presses closer.

That nearly undoes whatever part of me is still thinking. Every time her body answers mine, I want more.

For the first time since I woke, I understand why people can know words and still decide not to use them. Laura finally turns her face away enough to break the kiss. I go after her mouth when she pulls back, but Laura stops me with her palm against my chest.

“Wait.”

I stop. We stay close, my hands still around her waist and hers against me. Her lips are darker now, and the sight of them makes me want to start again before I have finished stopping.

“Bad?” I ask.

Laura gives a short laugh that has almost no humor in it. “That is very much not the problem.”

“Good.”

“No.” She presses her lips together, then shakes her head. “Also yes, which is extremely inconvenient.”

I do not understand the answer, but I understand that she has not moved away. “You want to stop.”

“I think we need to.”

“Why?”

Laura steps back enough to put a few inches between us, although her hand remains on my chest. I already miss the pressure of her body.

“Because if we keep doing that, I’m not going to want to stop at kissing.”