Number One Pick by Heidi Champa
I'm relatively new to the world of Fantasy Football. I got into a league a few years ago with a girlfriend of mine, but I never paid much attention to my team and I, in turn, didn't do very well. Then, last year, my husband's Fantasy Football league was in need of a new team owner and I agreed to do it. What started out as an innocent way to pass the time with some friends turned into a cut-throat competition to win it all. Needless to say, that winner was not me. But, hope sprung eternal this season, until about four games in. Despite these setbacks, I'm hooked and to that end, my league was the inspiration for this story, Number One Pick.
Blurb:
Blake Kaplan has been playing fantasy football with his old
college buddies for years. He’s never managed to win, mostly because he’s never
wanted to subject himself to the bets and pranks the other guys endured for a
chance at glory. But this year, Blake is willing to do whatever it takes to get
the first pick in the draft, even if it means sacrificing his dignity a bit.
To his surprise, his wager involves the one thing he’s worse at
than fantasy football—dating. If Blake can survive a few dates with the gorgeous
Landon O’Keefe, the bartender at the league’s favorite watering hole, he’ll get
his number one pick in the draft.
Excerpt:
But will he lose his heart along the way?
Excerpt:
...“I thought we were supposed to make out after dinner,
Landon.”
He laughed against my skin, the vibrations sending a tickle
down my body.
“What can I say? With you, doing things out of order seems to
make more sense. We can wait, if you want.”
“No. I don’t mind. I’m flexible.”
“Is that a fact?”
He claimed my mouth, taking away the witty response I had
prepared. My hands stole under the thin fabric of his T-shirt, his skin of his
back hot under my fingertips. I felt him shiver as I traced the line of his
spine, his tongue urging deeper into my mouth, our stifled moans filling the
otherwise silent room. He reached down and started yanking my shirt up, breaking
our kiss long enough to get what he wanted.
“Take this off.”
I obliged him and threw the shirt onto the floor before I made
quick work of his. Staring up at his decorated skin, I ran my hands over the
designs and patterns, letting my thumbs strafe his nipples, feeling the hard
barbells contrast with his soft skin. As I teased him, he gave a sharp intake of
breath and let his eyes fall closed.
“Did they hurt?”
“Like hell, but they feel really good now.”
“Good to know.”
I seemed to shock him when I rolled us over, his body squirming
under me as I kissed over the inked skin of his chest. Landon ran his fingers
through my hair and gently pulled me toward his nipple. I didn’t give in right
away and took my time gliding my tongue over the intricate piece of art right
above the pierced nub. He became more insistent, and I relented, closing my lips
around his nipple and flicking it with my tongue. He arched underneath me; the
intensity of his response making my cock harden with lust. I moved to his other
nipple, repeating the same thing he seemed to enjoy so much. His moaning sounded
so sweet, I would have given anything to keep him in that moment for as long as
possible. Landon seemed to have other plans.
He brought my face back up to his, our lips locking with
abandon as he rolled back to the dominant position.
“You should get it done, Blake.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Scared?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Needles not your thing?”
“You could say that.”
He smiled down at me and pinched my nipple hard enough to make
me jump.
“Ow. What the hell was that for?”
“Just checking. It’s official. You’re too much of a wuss to
handle the real thing.”
“Then we agree.”
“Maybe I should check one more thing.”
He lowered and kissed a meandering path until he captured my
nipple with his lips. Soon, he replaced the gentle suction with the sharp nip of
his teeth, followed by the soothing lave of his tongue. I cried out as he did it
all again, the sting of pain mixing with sweet pleasure like the perfect drinks
he served at the bar. I would have given anything to be able to tear the rest of
his clothes off and forget all about dinner, but the bet and the rules crept
into my mind at that moment. As much as it killed me to do it, I tried to get
Landon to stop. He looked at me, concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong, Blake?”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but we should stop.”
“Why?”
“It’s against the rules, remember?”
“I thought the rules said no sex.”
“Exactly.”
“But we’re not having sex.”
“Not yet.”
“There are other things we can do, you know.”
“I know, but maybe we should make dinner.”
He smiled before he kissed me, crushing my resolve in a few
delicious moments. My cock was straining against my jeans and I was aching for
him to touch me. But that was against the rules. I’d made Vince give me more
specifics after I made the bet and he’d settled on “no touching each other’s
junk” as a good parameter. That bastard.
“I don’t feel like cooking now.”
“God, why did you have to suggest the no-sex rule?”
Links:
Amber Allure Page:
http://amberquill.com/AmberAllure/bio_Champa.html
Facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1382060273
Facebook Author Page:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Heidi-Champa/151614298186577
Twitter page:
http://twitter.com/#!/heidichampa
Email:
hlchampa@comcast.net
Blog:
http://heidichampa.blogspot.com
“Right now, I’m asking myself the same question...”
Links:
Amber Allure Page:
http://amberquill.com/AmberAllure/bio_Champa.html
Facebook page:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/profile.php?id=1382060273
Facebook Author Page:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/pages/Heidi-Champa/151614298186577
Twitter page:
http://twitter.com/#!/heidichampa
Email:
hlchampa@comcast.net
Blog:
http://heidichampa.blogspot.com
Labels: Erotic Gay M/M romance, fantasy football, Heidi Champa



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