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Mixed into Love (Bachelorette Party #3)

By:Rochelle Paige

Mixed into Love (Bachelorette Party #3)
        Author: Rochelle Paige



My trip to Atlanta was supposed to be a quick one. The plan had been for me to fly in on Friday evening and back out again on Sunday morning. A friend from college called me up a week ago and asked for some advice because he was thinking about buying a bar. Since I owned a fairly successful one in Chicago, he wanted me to come down and take a look at the place to see if it was worth the investment.

My travel plans flew out the window the minute I walked into the bar he wanted to buy and caught sight of the blonde bartender working there. Her hair was pulled into a braid that hung down to the middle of her back, showing off her face-high cheekbones, plump lips, and eyes so blue it was hard to believe they were real. She was a good eight inches shorter than my six-foot frame, but from what I could see she didn't lack any curves. Her tight blue t-shirt was stretched tautly across a perfect set of tits that were practically begging for my touch-and had drawn the attention of every other guy sitting at the bar.

I'd spent time around my fair share of attractive women over the years. I had even dated some of them. The staff at my bar back in Chicago all tended to be lookers since the clientele liked it that way. But every other woman paled in comparison to the blonde behind the bar I'd just walked into. She was, without a doubt, the most stunning woman I'd ever seen. Something else I'd never seen before was my jealous side, but the lewd stares guys were sending her way had my previously undiscovered possessive nature roaring to life.

I responded to her as I'd never reacted to another woman. It wasn't only my body, even though there was no ignoring the way my cock hardened just at the sight of her. It felt like my heart and my mind were engaged, too. As fucking ridiculous as that sounded. Somehow, in that instant, I knew what we could-no, make that would because I refused to consider any other option-have was more than just physical. She was meant to be mine. It struck me like lightning, and I didn't bother questioning it. I wasn't a man who second-guessed himself, even when I was about to act pussy-whipped apparently.

If I saw something I wanted, I went after it. Like my car, a 1967 Shelby GT500 that I'd bought from a seller halfway across the country because the restoration job had been superb. Or my bar, which hadn't even been up for sale when I'd first decided I wanted to own it. I'd known right away that they were supposed to be mine, and I was filled with the same kind of certainty when I looked at my blonde bombshell. That meant a thirty-six-hour turnaround wasn't going to work for me. Not unless I could convince her to abandon Atlanta and hop on the plane to Chicago with me on Sunday.

With the way the blue of her eyes deepened as they scanned me, I thought it might not be impossible. There was definitely some interest there. But then her gaze slid from me to a guy at the end of the bar, and a flirtatious grin curved her lips. 

A quick text to my pilot to inform him of the change in plans was all it took to extend my trip. When I returned to the hotel, I'd push back my checkout date there, too. The little minx had no idea what was in store for her with me, but she was about to find out.

I strode towards the bar. My entire focus was on her, and I didn't notice a group of women moving in my direction until they intercepted me when I was only a few feet away from the bar. There were six of them; all dressed in little black dresses with shot glass necklaces hanging from their necks and tiaras with different sayings on them. It wasn't quite nine o'clock yet, but it looked like they'd been partying for a while already.

"Wanna buy the bachelorette a shot?" Crazy Bitch-since I didn't know her name, I was going off what was printed on her tiara-asked. She jerked her thumb over her shoulder at a tall brunette wearing a Bride-to-Be tiara.

"Of course," I murmured, stepping away from her and making my way to the bar. Not only was buying a shot for the bachelorette a tradition; the more drinks I ordered, the more time I'd have the bartender's attention focused on me. She must have been paying attention because she was waiting for me when I got there.

"What'll it be?" Her gaze slid over my shoulder to the group of women I could hear approaching behind me. "A slippery nipple, sex on the beach or a blowjob?"

My brain knew she was just rattling off popular shots for bachelorette parties, but my cock didn't want to listen to reason. It was so hard; my cock felt like it was about to break through my zipper. I moved in front of a stool and leaned against the bar, hoping to hide the steel rod in my pants. "How about a round of lemon drops for the whole bridal party?"