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And super weird.
But whatever.
When I walked into the pantry, two things struck me with what I saw.
One, my mom would love the size and the stock that Bruno had here.
Two, the man was just as OCD as I was.
Everything had its place.
The pasta was all on one shelf, the canned veggies on another.
And below that there was Mexican-themed—refried beans, spices, tortillas, and jalapeños.
I decided to go with that, seeing as I knew how to cook tacos, and they took a short amount of time.
I’d just come out of the pantry, and started to place my spoils on the counter, when I heard a creak from behind me.
I frowned and turned to find Bruno sitting behind the bar-height counter with his forearms resting on the cool marble surface. His head was in his hands, and he looked tired as hell.
Upon seeing me with my hands full, he got up and made his way around the counter, and I found myself staring at the man in all his glory.
He was wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else.
I’d always heard that gray sweatpants were utterly enticing, but I hadn’t really seen the ‘big deal’ about others wearing them.
But with Bruno wearing them?
The man was downright drop-dead gorgeous.
I’m talking, beautiful, not going to change my mind that he’s the sexiest thing in the world, better than the hero in my favorite book, stunning.
He walked toward me, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from going to the bulge between his legs.
I mean, there were his abs, his dazzling, well-defined chest, and shoulders that looked like they could hold up the world.
But it was his dick, which was bouncing slightly behind his sweats, that held me captive.
He got so close that I froze, meaning he was easily able to take the jalapeños from my hands without much protest from me.
Not that I would’ve put up a protest on him taking some stuff, but it wouldn’t have been the jalapeños, because they were holding up the can of beans.
The beans that then nearly dropped directly on my toes.
He bent down and caught them before they could drop a half a foot, and then swore swiftly as he pressed his hand to his forehead.
I placed the rest of the items on the counter that I’d been juggling, then gently took the two items from him before placing them on the counter, too.
Then I reached up and pressed my hands to his head and slowly started to rub the pressure points above his temples.
He sighed and dropped his hands to my waist, startling me slightly at first.
But before I could pull back, the uneasiness fled, leaving me with a sense of rightness.
His eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and the lines around his eyes were deep while the veins in his forehead throbbed with each beat of his heart.
I started to work my massaging hands around his head, pressing in trigger points all down the length of his neck in hopes of relieving some tension.
