Tristan Hunter and Tristan Jaxx press their clean-shaven chests together, fingers digging into each other’s muscular backs as they kiss with rough, open mouths over the cold kitchen counter. Hunter’s grip tightens around Jaxx’s waist, pulling him flush against the hard planes of his body, while Jaxx’s hands slide up Hunter’s back, nails scraping just enough to make the skin prickle. The countertop stays between them, no room for more, just the heat of their bodies and the way Hunter’s breath comes faster when Jaxx’s lips brush the base of his throat.
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