When I walked back into the apartment, I got a glimpse of the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
Adam walked out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam just as I closed the door. He’d wrapped a dark towel low on his hips, giving me a side view of the most beautiful man I’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. His bare torso and arms were covered in beautiful designs I wanted to study up close. Fortunately, he hadn’t caught me staring at him as he disappeared into his room. So I took my new cast iron pan, currently mirroring the state of my cock, into the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure I was going to make it through this assignment.
Heading for the fridge, I opened the door and found a bottle of good beer among the scads of takeout containers. Reaching in, I grabbed two, and opened one for myself.
I braced myself against the counter and took a long pull of the Portland IPA as I thought about the videos onTikTokof cows having their hooves trimmed. The dirty ones, the infected ones, and the ones that kicked. Thankfully, it helped deflate my cock enough so it wouldn’t be noticeable when he came in.
The sound of shuffling steps caught my attention a little too late. Adam had come back into the kitchen wearing low-hung sweatpants and no shirt. His damp hair was artfully disheveled and all over his head, as if he’d hastily ran a towel over it and vigorously shook his head like a dog to get it to look that perfectly messy. He could have his own shampoo commercial.
“Is that for me?” he asked, breaking me out of my ogling.
Fuck.
I straightened and nodded, unable to take my eyes off his ink. A cheetah wrapped around his lower left side and caught my attention immediately.
“Like what you see, He-Man?” he asked, his voice low.
I nodded and met his emerald green eyes. “Your ink is beautiful. Very intricate,” I said, turning toward the sink to wash my hands again. The cold water felt good against my heated skin, and I wished he’d go put a damn shirt on.
“Thanks.”
I cleaned the frying pan as Adam talked about something I really wasn’t paying attention to. When he said movie, I turned to glance at him. “What was that?”
He smiled as if he had caught me in the act. “I said, I like to watch movies when I need to relax. What do you do?”
I huffed out an awkward laugh and returned to cleaning my brand new pan. “You’ll just make fun of me, so I’d rather not say.”
I rinsed off the pan and added more soap to it. What the fuck was happening to me?
“Oh, come on, He-Man. I won’t laugh. What is it? Jerking off? We all do it.”
I chuckled again, still refusing to look at him. “No, it’s not that. But yes, we all do.”
When I didn’t answer him, he took a few steps and closed the distance, coming to stand right beside me, close enough for our forearms to touch.
“Whatcha doing to that pan? Isn’t it new?”
Another strangled laugh escaped me, and my breath hitched as I got a whiff of his shampoo and body wash. Holy fuck, this wasn’t going to end well.
“It’s called seasoning it,” I lied. “Cast iron has to be seasoned before you can use it.”
I glanced over at him to see his brows all scrunched up together. “With soap? Won’t it make the meat taste funny?”
Fuckity, fuck, fuck.
“No, it’ll be fine. Could you get me some butter?”
Adam turned those green eyes up at me and grinned. He clapped me on the back, leaving his hand on my shoulder. “Sure thing, He-Man.”
As he turned, his fingers not-so-innocently skimmed down my back, leaving chills in their wake. I was not going to make it out of this alive. I knew this man would be the end of me.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said as he left the kitchen.
I closed my eyes and gripped the sink, trying not to think about the images of him running through my mind.
When he returned, he was wearing a shirt.
