Angel Cruz kneels in the sand, his dark hair framing a muscular frame while Matt Anders stands above him, smooth and broad-shouldered, their mouths locked in a deep kiss. The wet grains cling to their skin as Cruz grips Anders’ waist, fingers digging into the warm, taut flesh of his back. The ocean hums in the background as Anders leans down, his tongue pressing hard against Cruz’s, no hesitation, just the pull of their bodies meeting.
