Jackson Radiz grips Dakota Payne’s waist as he presses his mouth down hard, his beard rough against the smooth skin of his throat, while James Castle watches from behind, fingers digging into Jackson’s hips. The three stand close on the balcony, their bodies angled just right, Radiz’s tattooed arms wrapped tight around Payne’s slim frame, their hands locked together, knuckles white. No words, just the way Jackson’s grip shifts when Payne tilts his head back, exposing his neck to the kiss.
