Cupcake

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Authors: M Andrews

BOOK: Cupcake
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Cupcake

A Novella

 

By M. Andrews

 

Copyright 2016 M. Andrews

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

Book design and formatted by
Swish Design & Editing

Editing by
Swish Design & Editing

Cover design by Kari March Designs

 

Cover Image Copyright 2016

Blurb

 

From the time I was able to hold a ball, I have lived and breathed football. It controlled every aspect of my life. The game consumed me, that was until I met a sweet, feisty blonde, pastry chef named Pippa Montgomery. The moment I laid eyes on her, she turned my world upside down. Now all I want is to live and breathe her.

 

Grayson Bennett looks like the all-American boy next door, but beneath his sweet, charming personality beats the heart of a dirty talking sex god, who with a single touch of his hand turned my boring existence into a wild ride of hot sticky sex. Grayson also gave me the confidence to go after what I really wanted... Him.

 

They say some love stories are complicated, but our story gets a little sticky.

Dedication
 

For my favorite cupcake, Giovanna.

Chapter One

 

“Now add a fourth of a cup of Dutch processed cocoa powder into the creamed butter. Make sure your mixer is set on low speed until the cocoa powder is incorporated into the butter. Otherwise, you’ll end up covered in chocolate.” The sweet voice directs through my television. My hand is firmly gripped around my cock. Beads of cum dripping down my hand and soaking through my boxers as I imagine her naked body covered in chocolate.

I’m supposed to be watching the game tape preparing for our game against the Eagles this Sunday. Instead, I’m sitting in the dark on my couch jerking off to a fucking cooking show like some creepy perv. Which I’m not, I can assure you of that. But three days ago, I was balls deep in the golden haired goddess currently whipping frosting on my television.

Pippa Montgomery, the beautiful star of Pippa’s Just Desserts, blew into my life like a deadly tornado. Instead of killing me she did the worst possible thing, she had me addicted then left me without so much as a goodbye. In truth, I did it to myself. It was just supposed to be one night of incredible sex to release a little stress, then we’d never see each other again. Simple enough, I’ve been doing it this way since college. But I let her get into my head, a dangerous thing for a man in my position.

Playing football in the NFL has been my dream since I was old enough to hold a ball. It controls every aspect of my life from what pee wee football team I played on at the age of five, to which college team was going to give me the most playing time in front of the NFL team scouts. This is the norm when you grow up in the south. Football is a religion in Texas, and my dad, Grayson Bennett Senior, is their God. My father played for the Dallas Cowboys for thirteen years. He still holds the league record for most passing yards, and he brought his team six Super Bowl wins before he retired. I have big shoes to fill and it’s a pressure that consumes my every waking moment. From a very young age, my father hammered it into my head that football is all that matters, and to never let anything stand in the way of my dreams. I was doing well until Pippa came into my life.

The moment I laid on eyes on her standing in my sister’s kitchen, wearing those red fuck me heels, she’s all I’ve been able to think about. Every time I close my eyes I see her riding my face, filling my mouth with her sweet honey. Her body writhing beneath me as I pounded in and out of her tight cunt. She has a hold on me that just won’t break.

“Mmm… so good.” She smiles at the camera and those hazel eyes burn into me through the television.

“Fuck!” She’s just licked the chocolate frosting from the corner of her mouth. Seeing her tongue glide across her full plump lips sets me off like a rocket and I cum hard with a grunt, spilling my seed all over my boxers and my hand. No woman has ever made me cum this fucking hard without actually being inside her. Pippa has me so damn wound up, I can already feel my cock becoming hard again just by hearing her voice.

Switching off the television, I jump up from the couch, needing a new distraction to get my head right and back into the game. I walk through my house, past the rows of boxes that still need unpacking. It’s been ten months since I was made the Boston Minutemen’s starting quarterback. After I signed my new contract, I bought my first house. I’ve been so focused on preparing for the season, unpacking and filling it with furniture has taken a backseat. Having the necessities—a bed, television and a couch—the rest of my two story brownstone is empty, and will probably stay that way until the season is over.

The pressure is on this season to prove to the world I’m worthy of my new position. I’m no longer the green rookie, who was thrown out to the wolves after Brett Peterson, the Minutemen’s starter, suffered a career-ending knee injury during the season opener. Then during a mid-season game his backup, Ben Jenkins, suffered a season-ending ankle injury. I was brought into that game at the beginning of the third quarter. We were down four touchdowns and we needed a miracle if we were going to win it. I threw three picks in that last thirty minutes of play, but by the skin of our teeth we pulled a win out of that shit storm of a game and we ended the season with six wins. More wins than the team have seen in four years. Which is why it’s so important for me to stay clear-headed, to keep up the winning momentum from last season, and not let some woman distract me from the task at hand.

It sounds easy enough, but every passing moment I think about Pippa the stronger her hold becomes over me. And the more I want to break my own rules to see her again.

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