Damien Stone and Beaux Banks grip each other’s wrists as the third man, his chest covered in ink, leans over them from the stairs, his clean-shaven jaw tight with focus. Their fingers lock together in a grip that doesn’t let go, muscles straining under the pressure while the tattooed man looms closer, his dark hair framing a face that doesn’t smile. The only sound is the rasp of skin against skin as their hands refuse to break free.
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