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Baby, You're Mine

By:Fiona Davenport

Baby, You're Mine
Fiona Davenport

       Chapter 1


Wyatt


I stepped inside the dark and  smoky interior of Jumpin' Jacks, the only bar in Red Springs, Nebraska.  It wasn't far out of North Platte, but it was the nearest place to hang  out without going into the city. I squinted as my eyes adjusted and  scanned the room, but didn't see the friend I was supposed to meet.  Winding my way through the tables, I approached the bar and caught the  eye of Wendy, the bartender. I lifted my chin in greeting, and she  smiled, winking one heavily kohl-lined eye before grabbing a beer,  popping the top, and sliding it down to my waiting hand.

Wendy's  smile widened and she flipped her bleached blonde hair over one bony  shoulder. She swept her eyes over my body before she turned to help the  next customer. My best friend and I had been coming to this bar since we  were of legal age. Wendy hadn't stopped trying to get into my pants  since she poured me my first drink. After years of ignoring the fake  boobs in my face and other not-so-subtle hints, you'd think she would  get a clue. And yet, there I was, practically being violated by her  direct and clearly dirty stare. Not that I had a problem with any woman  picturing me naked and dreaming of doing filthy things to me, but I did  have some standards.

"Neat trick."

I froze with my beer  halfway to my mouth. The soft, sultry voice washed over me, leaving me  with a tightening in my pants and a racing heart. Yes, from just a  fucking voice. However, my cock came to full attention when I got a look  at the owner of the sexy voice. Long, glossy red curls, large, round,  bright blue eyes, high cheekbones, and the most kissable lips I had ever  seen in my life. But, what had my mouth watering were her curves. She  had an hourglass figure that would give Marilyn Monroe a run for her  money. Her tits would spill out of my hands, her hips were perfect to  hold while I pounded into her from behind, and she was tall-her legs a  mile long and showing off a good amount of skin from her short skirt  riding up as she sat on a stool. I had a sudden urge to either tug it  down as far as it would go or throw a jacket over them. Nobody should  see those creamy, white thighs, but me. I finally realized I was  standing there gaping, ok leering, at her and pried my jaw up from the  ground.

I put on my best panty-melting smile, making sure my dimples popped. "Trick?" I asked.

She  smiled and gestured toward the bar. "The thing where you caught the  bottle. If I tried the same thing, it would mostly likely end up in my  lap, or crashing into the person behind me." She laughed and holy fuck,  the rich, genuine sound was the last straw, the one that tipped over the  mountain of hay.

I fell.

"Wyatt Kincaid," I informed her,  holding out my hand. She took it and started to shake, but I brought it  to my lips and brushed a kiss across the back. She blushed, and my  heart started pounding, desire coursing through my veins.

"Bailey Cross."

"Are you new in town?" I asked, taking a seat on the empty stool next to her.

She  took a sip of her martini and her eyes darted away. "Sort of." When her  gaze returned to mine, a blush had stolen across her cheeks and she  shifted in her chair, suddenly nervous. "I just finished my first year  teaching and I'm out for the summer. So, I came here to..." she trailed  off and swallowed.

"I'm spending time with family." She gulped down the rest of her martini and pushed the glass away.

"Another?"  I asked, and when she nodded, I signaled to the other bartender, Brad,  grateful Wendy was busy. I excused myself for a minute to pull out my  phone and send a text to my best friend.

Me: You're late, asshole. Find yourself another wingman tonight.

Jack: Is that code for you found pussy to chase instead of my finely sculpted ass?


Me: Sure. If that makes you feel better.

Jack: Breaking bro code, dude.

Me: Bro code is null and void if there is a chance to get laid. And, when the fuck did we go back to being teenagers?

Jack: Fuck off

Me: No, that's what YOU'LL be doing tonight.

Jack: Truth :(

I  laughed and stuck my phone back in my pocket, turning back to Bailey  and giving her my full attention. We sat at the bar chatting for over  half an hour before I led her to a quiet booth in the back. For another  two hours, we talked about our jobs, friends, childhood-pretty much  anything. I learned she was a third-grade teacher, was still best  friends with a girl she went to high school with, and had grown up with a  single mom. I couldn't hear enough, soaking up every little morsel she  gave me.

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