Katniss would need two hands and possibly her toes to count how many shirtless or outright naked men she'd seen in her life, on her mother's table or thanks to the Games. And yet, before now, she'd never felt a bit attracted to a man's chest.

Things were different now.

And the thing was, she was comfortable. Comfortable, but like her skin was too tight, too, and she couldn't quite think straight, and that hand at her waist was so warm and she was tingling and Katniss leaned closer, crossing her body gently across his to deepen the kiss.