Cupcake (4 page)

The second the ball slides into my hands my eyes immediately start reading the field. There’s a right tackle attempting to break through the line. My wide receiver has been taken down to the ground, and there’s a linebacker on my left with me in his sights. I have a split second to make my decision. Do I play it safe and make a run for the first down, or do I grow a pair and throw it to the running back that’s wide open, running straight toward the end zone. For the last two games, I’ve played it safe and it’s resulted in two losses.

Fuck safe, I’m taking the risk.

My arm pulls back and I launch the ball down the field to Chase, our rookie running back. Just as his foot crosses the line into the end zone, the ball sails straight into his hands. The son of a bitch caught it. My fist punches the air.

“Fuck yes!”

Waiting outside Pippa’s apartment door, I can still feel the adrenaline from winning our first game coursing through my veins. It feels damn good to fucking win, and I felt like a new man out on that field. Everything came to me clearly for the first time since I started playing in the NFL. I was relaxed and level-headed, and I didn’t let the voice of my father get in the way. For the first time in my NFL career, I followed my instincts and it feels fucking empowering.

If Pippa would only open this fucking door, I could use this new found energy on her. I pound my fist against the wooden door again and call out, “Come on, Cupcake, open the door.”

The door slowly creaks open, and in the opening my beautiful Pippa appears.

“So impatient.” She slyly grins, resting one hand on the edge of the door and the other on the curve of her hip. Her golden blonde hair is cascading down her shoulders, framing her gorgeous tits. Her tanned skin is wrapped in dark pink see-through lace, giving me just enough of a tease to make me want more. It’s the perfect wrapping on the most sinful of presents.

“Only when it comes to wanting to bury myself inside of you.” I return her smile and step over the threshold invading her bubble. She smells like fresh baked sugar cookies and it’s making me want to devour every inch of her. I loop my finger around the one button keeping me from seeing heaven. I pull her to my lips for a warm deep kiss. Ready for my fix. I crave everything about this woman. Her kiss, her touch, her body, the feel of her arms around me when we fuck. I crave her more than my body desires air.

Pushing us further inside her loft apartment, I kick the door closed, keeping my lips firmly planted on hers. Her arms snake around the back of my neck, as I back her all the way into the kitchen and up against the kitchen island.

Popping the button on her top, my hands immediately go for her tits, massaging and groping at her soft mounds.

She breaks from my lips. “Hold on there, Mister Impatient, I made you a little something to celebrate your win today.” She wiggles out from my grasp and walks around the counter and grabs a plate of cupcakes.

“You didn’t have to do that, Cupcake.”

“I wanted to.” She softly smiles holding the plate of pink frosted cupcakes out to me.

“Mmm… pink. Just like your pretty plump pink lips.” I grin, grabbing one of the cupcakes. Her eyes watching intensely as I scoop up the fluffy concoction onto my finger.

“I’m not wearing pink lipstick,” she says with a soft giggle.

Leaning into her ear, I whisper, “Those aren’t the lips I’m talking about.”

Her mouth drops open, eyes wide, as I lick the frosting from my finger. “So Cupcake, do you always dress like this when you bake?” I ask eyeing her up and down.

“Usually, I bake completely naked.” A wicked grin tugs at the corner of her mouth.

Such a fucking tease.

She turns her back to me and sets the plate of cupcakes down on the counter.

“I might have to come watch you bake more often,” I say pressing my body against hers.

“I have a feeling with you around, I wouldn’t get much baking done,” she says, teasing her ass against my crotch. My dick already throbbing with need.

“You’re probably right.” My hands grip the lace of her top and pull it down off her shoulders, tossing it to the floor. Taking a step back, I command her to turn around. She slowly moves to face me, her body now on full display.
She’s so damn beautiful.

My fingers slip under the band of her thong, sliding it down off her hips. Dropping to my knees, I help her step out, then run my nose between her thighs giving her sweet wet lips a little lick before returning to my feet.

“Oh, no you don’t. You already stole one pair of my
La Perla
panties, you aren’t getting another pair,” she protests when she catches me stuffing her thong into my pocket.

“Sorry, Cupcake, these are mine now.” I smugly grin.

“What do you even want with them anyway?” she asks.

“I’m going to take them with me on our road game this week. And when I’m all alone in my room, missing your pussy, I’m going to smell them while I jerk off to the images of you on your knees gagging on my cock.”

“Jesus, you’re a dirty fucker, aren’t you?” She laughs.

“You love it, and you know it.”

“Hell, yes, I do. Now how about you put that dirty mouth of yours to some real use and give you something for the spank bank.” A wicked twinkle sparks in her eyes as she reaches behind her back and pulls out a bowl of pink frosting.
My little Cupcake wants to get dirty.

I scoop up some of the frosting in my hand and slather it over each of her tits. A shiver vibrates through her body as my hand travels down her stomach, spreading a line of pink down to her belly button. My mouth latches onto her hard nipple, sucking and lapping up the frosting. Fuck, it tastes even better off of her.

I take my time, savoring every inch of her, as I make my way to her other breast. Her head dropping back, soft moans spilling from her lips.

She lays back on the counter, her fingers tangling in my hair. My tongue swirling in her belly button, licking up the last of the frosting. I flatten my tongue running it between her hips.

I can smell her desire. She’s so fucking ready for me.

Lifting her further up the counter and nestling between her legs, I spread her pussy lips open with my fingers. Her clit is swollen and throbbing, begging for my mouth. Scooping up more of the frosting, I slather over her wet lips. My mouth already watering in anticipation.

Dropping to my knees, my tongue gliding along her creamy skin. I can’t help but bite her tender flesh, leaving my mark on what’s mine. The scent of her and the vanilla frosting is intoxicating. My dick strains against my pants the moment my tongue meets her lips. Pippa’s legs squeeze around my head as my tongue traces along her opening. The frosting and sweet juices coating my mouth and chin.

“Goddamn Cupcake, you taste so fucking good.”

The animal inside me stirs awake and latches onto her clit. My head wiggling back and forth as I devour every last drop. Her hips buck widely against my face, hands gripped tightly in my hair, keeping me in my place. Her screams of pleasure echoing through her apartment.

“Oh God! Grayson.”

My tongue thrusts in and out of her dripping wet cunt. Eating her out like a man on death row and she’s my last meal. Her body tightens and shakes all around me, and her screams growing louder and louder as her orgasm takes over.

Her body relaxes while I lick her clean, not wanting to let any of her sweet cum to go to waste. “Now that one’s definitely going in the spank bank.” I chuckle, pulling her back up to my lips.

She runs her tongue along my chin and my lips, licking herself off my face. “I want one for mine,” she purrs, unbuttoning my pants. Her warm hands slip inside my boxers, cupping my balls and stroking my length. I reach behind my head and pull off my shirt, then push her back down onto the counter. I slide off my pants and give my cock a few yanks before rubbing my length between her folds. My dick glistening with her sweet juices.

“I need you, Grayson, please I fucking need you,” she pleads.

“I love it when you beg.” My hand wraps around my cock, guiding myself to her opening, but I only give her the tip at first.

Her hips roll along my tip. “More,” she begs, so I push in an inch more. She tries to scoot her hips closer to pull me in deeper, but I press her legs open against the counter stopping her. Pulling all the way out, I then push in a little more, continuing my sweet torture until she’s screaming for more.

I give her what she wants and fill her to the hilt, pausing for a moment to let her stretch around me. She’s so fucking tight and wet. I could live and die between these legs.

She reaches her hand down between her legs, fingers circling her clit, but I swat her hand away.

“That’s mine,” a possessive growl rumbles from deep in my chest. Replacing her finger with mine, I massaging her clit in rough, hard circles. “I’m the only one that will make you cum. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she moans, reaching her hands above her head, gripping onto the edge of the counter and bracing herself as I pound in and out of her.

I want to be the only man that will make feel this good, that will make her cum so ferociously, so she’ll beg only for my cock. If this is all that we’ll ever have between us, I’ll take whatever I can get as long as I’m the only man she fucks.

Smacking my alarm on the first ring, I lie still, making sure Grayson doesn’t wake up. He lets out a sleepy groan then rolls over onto his side. Thankfully, he stays asleep. Carefully pulling back the blankets, I slip out of bed and tiptoe into the bathroom to get ready for my baking demonstration down at the food and wine festival.

These demos are what I love doing, it gives me a chance to be with my fans. I’m able to see their smiling faces and actually talk with them. I love hearing when they say one of my recipes inspired them to start baking.

I get dressed in my signature hot pink tulle skirt and white razor back tank top. I wore this exact outfit on the cover of my first cookbook and it’s stuck. Pinning half of my hair up, leaving the rest down in loose curls, I keep my makeup simple with a touch of pink lip gloss on my lips to finish off my look. I give myself a once over in the full-length mirror. The smile I’ve had on my face since meeting Grayson is permanently plastered across my face.

Since that night, I haven’t been able to stop smiling. Every time I’m with him my smile gets a little bigger and I feel a little happier too. And after last night, hearing him say he’s the only one that will ever make me cum is making me fall harder for him. I know I said this was just a sex thing and nothing more, but the more we’re together, the more I feel the connection between us growing stronger. I don’t ever want this to end. Which is why I sneak out every morning, I can’t bring myself to say goodbye to him.

With my heels in hand, I tiptoe out of the bathroom and to the kitchen. Leaving a Post-it note on the fridge, letting Grayson know I’ll meet him at his place after the festival, I slip on my heels then grab my purse and head out the door.

Setting the last cupcake wrapper into the baking pan, I double check my workstation to make sure I have all the ingredients and utensils ready that I need for my baking demonstration. I’ll be showing how to make and bake Neapolitan cupcakes today. Once satisfied with the setup, I head backstage to wait for the audience to file in.

Grabbing my phone out of my purse, I check for messages from Grayson, pouting when I see that there are no new message icons. I did keep him up pretty late, so he could still be asleep. We ended up spending the entire night fucking over every square foot of my apartment. The last thing I remember before passing out was Grayson pressing me up against my bedroom window, letting the whole world see who I belonged to. It was so damn hot.

Twenty minutes later my producer, Jackie, pulls me out of my dirty daydream to inform me that I have a packed house of excited fans waiting for my arrival. Touching up my makeup in my compact mirror, I then follow her into the tent. Taking in a few calming breaths, mentally tell myself
‘I got this.’
Just as I take my first step up the stairs, an image of Grayson pops into my head—it’s him last night sitting up against the headboard of my bed, his dark brown hair spiked up on one side and a goofy
‘I just got the best blowjob of my life’
painted across his lips. That image brings a gigantic smile on my face. Yep, I have it bad for this man and I’m loving it.

The announcer introduces me and the crowd erupts into loud applause and cheers. Stepping out on stage, I smile and wave at the audience. Gliding over to the little yellow X taped to the floor, which marks my spot, I look out at the crowd. They all settle back into their seats and now it’s time for the fun to begin. This is my element, and I feel at home up on this stage.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m so excited to be here with you all. Today, I’ll be showing you how to make some delicious Neapolitan cupcakes, but first, I’m going to need an assistant. Who would like to volunteer to be my helper?”

I scan the rows of raised hands, usually picking one of the kids in the audience, but there appears to be no little fans in the crowd this time around. Before I can make my decision, a familiar voice comes from the back of the tent.

“Miss Montgomery, I would be honored to assist you.” Grayson stands up from the back row with a cocky grin on his face.

“Fuck,” I say under my breath.
What the hell is he doing here?
My palms begin to sweat and my stomach is now in my throat. I swallow hard, forcing the lump in my throat back down. While putting on my best confident smile, I realize I’m shitting my tutu right now.

“Look everyone, it’s Grayson Bennett from the Boston Minutemen.” The crowd all clap and cheer as Grayson saunters down the aisle towards the stage, keeping me locked in his intense stare.

I watch as he strides across the stage. He’s dressed in dark jeans and a white Henley shirt that’s hugging every perfectly sculpted muscle of his chest. My thighs pinch together. My pussy already aching for his cock. “Keep it together, Pippa,” I say to myself, in hopes it will keep me from throwing Grayson to the floor and ripping him out of his clothes. We haven’t gone more than five minutes without trying to get into each other’s pants. I don’t know how we’re going to survive an hour-long demo without him bending me over and fucking me in front of all of these people.

His hand slides around my waist as he leans in to give me a chased kiss on the cheek. Then he moves in further and whispers in my ear, “I missed eating you this morning, Cupcake.” His words send a shudder down my spine, my cheeks burning red.
I fucking love his dirty mouth.
Love it even more when it’s between my legs.

I let out a little cough, trying to clear my throat, masking my slight embarrassment with a shy smile. Attempting to play it off as
‘I can’t believe I’m meeting Grayson Bennett, the hot quarterback from the Boston Minutemen.’

“Well, aren’t I the lucky one to have such a handsome assistant today?” I smile and grab the extra apron draped over the counter and hand it to Grayson.

“I’m the lucky one to have such a beautiful and charming teacher.” He winks, taking the apron from my hand.

“Aren’t you sweet, Mr. Bennett.” I blush again. The tent feeling increasingly hot the longer I’m near him.

“Please call me, Grayson.” He grins, tying the strings of his apron behind his back.

“Thank you for assisting me today, Grayson. It’s an honor to have you in my kitchen.”

“It’s my pleasure. Just so you know, I’m quite useful in the kitchen.” He slyly grins.

Fuck, yes he is.
I’ll never be able to walk into my kitchen without getting hot and bothered over the memories of him eating me like a cupcake on my island, then bending me over my kitchen sink while he spanked me with my cupcake shaped spatula.

“As I said, we will be making Neapolitan cupcakes today.” I turn my attention back to the audience and begin explaining the first steps of the recipe, feeling Grayson’s eyes on me, watching my every move. At first, it seemed strange, the way he would watch me. Mark barely noticed I was ever in the same room, half the time. But the way Grayson looks at me, makes me feel like I’m the only woman in the room. “These cupcakes are light and fluffy, and oh, so decadent.” I smile out at the crowd, hoping they can’t see the nervous sweat beginning to cover my forehead.

“I can’t wait to get a taste of your cupcakes,” he says, licking his lips.

I fan myself with my recipe cards. My brain feeling like it’s short-circuiting. This fucker is just toying with me. I manage to put together a collective sentence to direct Grayson to measure out the two cups of flour and add them to the mixing bowl. “If you are a good little helper, I’ll let you have two of my cupcakes,” I say, handing him a measuring cup.

Grayson’s mouth falls open in shock, making him drop the measuring cup into the container of flour, causing a big plume of dust to explode upward, covering his blue apron in flour. I giggle and wave away the second-hand flour dust with the crowd laughing at his misfortune.

Two can play at this game, asshole.

As we work our way through the first half of the cake recipe, we both find little ways to touch each other. Hands grazing, bodies gently brushing together as we try to get the other to crack.

Grayson slides the pan of cupcakes into the oven while I lay out the ingredients for the frosting and explain the next steps of the recipe. Grayson joins me at the workstation. I stumble over my words when I feel his hand glide up the back of my thigh. I let out a little giggle as his rough fingers tickle along my skin.

Son of a bitch is upping the anti.

“Let’s get started on the frosting,” I say trying to shift my focus away from Grayson’s hand.

“Mmm… frosting, my favorite,” he says wiggling his eyebrows at me. His fingers now tracing along the seam of my cotton panties.

“The frosting is the best part of the cupcake,” I manage to squeak out. Dropping the sticks of butter into the mixer, I turn it on full blast. The loud motor masking my moans as Grayson’s finger slips inside my panties, tracing along my lips.

I really hope the audience can’t see what he’s doing to me.

“We will be dividing the buttercream into three bowls for our vanilla, strawberry and chocolate flavored frostings, which will give the cupcakes that classic Neapolitan look.”

“Pippa, how do you get your frosting so luscious and pink,” he asks. His finger dipping between my wet folds.

Swallowing back a moan, my whole body begins to flush. I’m starting to realize what he’s doing. He’s paying me back for giving him a hand job during Lexi’s birthday dinner. Except, unlike him, I won’t be able to hold back the orgasm that’s brewing between my legs. The way he makes me cum, the whole damn event will hear me scream.

“I start out by using fresh ripe, supple strawberr...” my words fade into a soft moan as I drop the strawberries into the food processor. Each pulse of the machine mimicking the pulse of my clit. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it together. This man’s hands should be labeled as weapons of mass destruction.

Just as he starts to push his finger inside me, the timer on the oven buzzes. I breathe a sigh of relief when he releases his fingers from my panties and turns toward the oven. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his fingers clean. A part of me wants to kill him for pulling this little stunt while the other part just wants to fuck his brains out. My need for his dick is far outweighing my need for his head on a stick.

“Oh, fuck, Cupcake!” Grayson grunts, painting my stomach with his hot cum. His eyes searing into mine as we both cum. God, I love watching him cum. Lightning bolts of pleasure flashing in his eyes, all because of me.