Chapter 16
Maren
Why was he up there watching me?
This is the question in my mind as I make my coffee, getting ready for another grueling day of work.
This time, it’s not on the field, it’s at Ruby’s.
Even though I wanted to be in a position to work only one job, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Ruby hanging, so here I am clocking in for another shift.
If I’m being honest with myself, this is going to be a nice reprieve from the whiplash known as Ozzie Rodriquez.
By the time I clock in, my mind is a jumbled mess of emotion. I can’t read through the thick confusing fog of his emotional state, and my heart can’t take it.
“Mare, you turned that game into a Broadway show last night,” Ruby says as she walks up behind me and gives me the biggest hug.
“What was your favorite part?” I ask her.
The look on her face resembles a proud mother, and with mine being so far away, I welcome the warm feelings it stirs inside me.
“Orbit’s bit, obviously. Do you know how hard it is to walk in a suit like that, let alone swing a few feet above the ground on rings?
” She shakes her head, “Don’t answer my silly rhetorical questions. I was so proud.”
There are a lot of things that I love about Mango Bay, reasons that contribute to me staying here, but the biggest is Ruby. She is the mother figure I need on hard days, especially not being close to my parents, and I’m so thankful for her.
“I gave you the patio again, I know how much you love it out there. Plus, there is always a big breakfast crowd the morning after games, lots of tourists grabbing a bite before they head out of town.” I said that last part right along with her in my head, it’s something she loves to tell anyone who will listen.
This being the go-to breakfast, lunch, and dinner spot in town, as well as the busiest bar at night, is her biggest flex.
I chuckle to myself as I log into the computer.
I love having the patio. Ruby knows me so well, but setting up my section takes a lot of work. With the variety of tables and eating bars, there are a lot of customers to cover in one tiny space.
I start by taking down all of the chairs and repositioning any tables that look out of place. Then I wipe down each table because things get really dusty overnight with all of the sand.
Who am I kidding… There’s no way Ruby had this open last night if I didn’t work.
Chuckling again, I refill the salt and pepper shakers, and take a look around. It looks immaculate. Ready for the crowd.
“Silverware is ready,” someone yells from the kitchen.
Shit. I almost forgot to roll the silverware.
I push in one last chair and make my way to the kitchen only to stop dead in my tracks when I make eye contact with Ozzie on the other side of the bar.
There’s no way he was here a few minutes ago, but he already has a cup of coffee and a plate in front of him.
It’s not that busy, but there is no way the cooks are that fast.
I try to look away, try to walk away, but my feet won’t move.
It’s almost like my brain short circuited and is no longer sending messages to the rest of my body.
I just stare back at him, and I’m so out of tune with myself right now, that I can’t even process what my face is doing.
For all I know I’m drooling, because he looks fucking delicious sitting over there.
He’s wearing a crisp white t-shirt that shows off his pecs in the most dramatic way, and the contrast with the dark ink in the tattoos covering his arms makes my insides warm.
His beard is slightly un-groomed, and it works so effortlessly, along with his black hat framing his eyes, making them sparkle.
His words from last night replay in my mind, and make butterflies erupt. “I don’t think I have a choice. Someone showed up here and they just happened, no matter how hard I try to avoid them.”
Before I can make my way over to talk to him I hear my name, “Mare,” Annie, one of the hostesses, calls me out of my daze.
“Huh?” I respond, but never take my eyes off Oz.
“You have a table in your section. I just sat them, and I will grab them some water, but they seem like they’re in a hurry.” She smiles.
My favorite kind of customer, ones who go out to eat instead of grabbing something fast when they’re in a hurry and expect you to move at lightning speed…
I greet the table, and then get slammed with four more. I literally haven’t even had time to pee, so I just shoot an apologetic smile Oscar’s way.
He offers me a small smirk, and orders another coffee.
I physically peel myself out of the grip he has on me, avoiding his seemingly heated gaze, and make my way to the patio.
Three hours and seven minutes.
That’s how long Oscar Rodriguez has been sitting at the bar, staring at me. Seemingly unbothered by how busy I am.
He’s engaged in friendly conversation with various people who have occupied the stool next to him, but what the actual hell is he still doing here? He’s had coffee, some water, and then a Coke. He’s even taken a few selfies with some kids who recognized him.
All. While. Staring. At. Me. No urgency to be anywhere else.
“Love, I’m going to cover your section so you can have lunch,” Ruby hollers from the bar, and her words are the first thing to break his intense gaze.
“Sounds good, I’m just going to head over to Base & Bean to grab a latte and get a little walk in. I have my phone if you need me,” I tell her as I set my apron behind the counter.
I’ve worked in several restaurants and none of them treat their staff quite like Ruby. She rotates through and covers everyone’s station so they can take an hour lunch. I’m thinking about how incredible she is when I turn around and notice he’s gone.
When I walk outside I look around, and still see no sign of him. Like he was a figment of my imagination this entire time.
It kind of pisses me off.
The walk over to Base & Bean is all downhill from Ruby’s but it’s quite the uphill climb on the way back.
I was able to grab an iced coffee and a panini before they sold out of them for the day.
This is a luxury that doesn’t happen that often, so I decided to sit inside the small coffee shop and enjoy my sandwich before it got cold, forcing myself not to think about him.
After a bit, I decide I better head back to work before I decide going home is a better idea.
As I approach the back of the restaurant, I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I just ate a hot sandwich, the half mile uphill walk I just completed, or the sight of Ozzie standing propped up against the brick wall in the alleyway behind Ruby’s next to the staff entrance that has me breaking into a light sweat—despite my annoyance.
Fucking grey sweatpants… of course that’s what he has on.
“Are you going to say anything to me, or just lurk in the fucking shadows? I don’t know what you’re into, but I only like stalker romances when they include masked men in my books. Not cocky ass baseball players who think the—”
He doesn’t even let me finish. The second I’m in arm’s reach he spins me around and pins my back up against the brick wall.
Before I can protest his lips are on mine with so much force, passion, and pent up energy that his beard is leaving marks on my face, I’m sure of it.
I should pull away, push him off of me and run inside. That’s the sensible thing to do, right?
“I knew you needed to eat,” he says between kisses. “I knew I didn’t have the restraint to let that happen, so I waited in my car.”
My mind starts racing—a million thoughts shooting in rapid fire as his hands tangle in my hair and he pulls it to tilt my head back, giving him access to my neck.
I try to convince myself this is a bad idea, that this is too fast, too soon.
He’s not into you, right. He’s just into the idea of you.
He’s broken.
He’s an asshole.
He watched you with all of his attention while someone else sucked his dick.
That’s the thought that causes my body to betray me.
As he slides his tongue along the column of my neck from the curve of my jaw to the small hollow space just above my collarbone, I whimper and wrap one leg around his waist. He’s not playing around, he wraps a calloused hand around my thigh and presses his hard length into me.
There is no mistaking how turned on he is right now.
He slides his hand up my leg and suddenly, I am painfully aware that when I decided to wear a black skirt to work today instead of pants, I also decided to put on my black briefs—quite possibly the least sexy pair of underwear I own—so they’d blend in with the skirt if I had to bend down to grab something during my shift.
But when his hands reach my ass and brush the fabric he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t pull away. He squeezes my flesh, taking a huge handful and jiggling it in his grip.
“Fuuuckkkk,” he groans against my neck. “I have been wanting this ass in my hands for days.”
I mentally scold myself, You should stop this.
You’re at work.
Someone could come out any second.
My body betrays me for the second time as my hands cup his jaw and reposition his lips on mine, and I suddenly understand what he said when he told me he lost all sense of control.
Then as he intensifies the kiss, I undo the few buttons at the top of my shirt, just enough to expose my cleavage.
“Shit,” he groans.
And with that, all rational thoughts are gone.
There is nothing sexy about the teal and pink button up with Ruby’s scrolled across the chest, but when he looks down at my exposed chest, he loses control.
He whips me around so my chest is flat against the brick wall, my ass just slightly popped out from the position.
He pins me there with one arm against my back, as he kisses my neck and slides his other hand down my front, grazing my breasts before he continues to move his hand farther south.
He rolls his fingers over the wet spot on my panties and tickles my clit with a feather-like touch.
“How much time do you have?” he grits out.
I look at my watch, “Ten minutes.”
I know no one can see us from the street, we’re behind the building.
I also know there are no cameras. Ruby hasn’t had a reason to invest in them.
I’ve also worked here long enough to know that she only gives one break at a time, so there is zero chance of someone coming out that door, but the idea of getting caught only makes me wetter.
I’m not sure what the end game is here. Fuck me in an alley? Kiss me until I want him to fuck me in the alley? Send me back to work with a painful ache between my legs with his name on it…
Fuck it, I don’t care.
I don’t have time to consider any more options before he pulls his arm off my back. I could walk away. I could end this. I could.
But I don’t.
I want to know what he plans to do to me. Right here, for anyone to see.
He takes both hands and hooks his thumbs beneath the waist band of my panties and slides them down just enough to free my aching pussy, but I can still feel the brush of the fabric as I move, chasing any friction I can get.
He’s still standing behind me. If I move back even an inch I’ll be flush with his chest. I can feel his hot breath on my neck as he whispers, “I want to feel how wet you are. Is that ok?”
“Yes.”
He takes one hand and slides it down my stomach until his middle finger hovers over my opening. He drags the tip of his long finger just along my slit.
“So fucking wet,” he whispers, but this time it’s followed by a slow lick of his tongue over my pulse.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, and while his motions and demeanor are controlling and possessive, his voice is soft and genuine. I know if I say yes, he will. He’ll stop.
“No.”
“Are you sure?” His voice is heavy with desire.
I nod.
With that permission he drives his finger inside me, and I whimper at the sensation. He moves his finger back and forth in a come hither motion, and my back arches, pushing my ass into him.
“Come on my hand, Mare. Soak me,” he demands in a low growl.
“It’s not enough,” I pant.
With that, he adds another finger, and then another, and when he starts massaging my clit with his palm, I pant his name trying not to be too loud.
“Oz, please.”
“Come,” he demands again, “I want to hear you cry my name.”
I buck against him as he turns my head and crashes his lips to mine, and I do exactly what he asked, I come. I cry his name… actually fucking cry it into his mouth as I convulse around his fingers.
He keeps me pinned in place as he slowly slides his fingers out of me and brings them into sight, dripping wet.
When he slides them into his mouth and sucks and licks until the only thing coating them is his own spit, I convulse one more time.
“Did you just come from watching me taste your pussy?” He laughs.
“What if I did?” My tone is flirty and playful but coated in desire.
He doesn’t say a word, he just spins me around, kisses me one more time with a hunger, deeper than before and slowly backs away.
When he does, there is no hiding the wet spot just at the tip of his fading erection.
He came in his fucking pants, and he’s not even embarrassed about it.
He blows me a kiss and walks around the corner towards the parking lot.
I lick my lips, pull up my panties, and try to register what in the fuck just happened.