Lucas Garza grips Brady Corbin’s hips, pulling him flush against the mattress as their mouths crash together, teeth catching lips in a rough, open-mouthed kiss. Brady’s dark hair falls forward, obscuring his face as Garza’s fingers dig into his waist, holding him still while their tongues clash. The bed’s edge looms behind them, the sheets rumpled where they’ve already tangled, one hand already tangled in the other’s hair, the other already tracing the sharp line of a muscle.
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