Chapter 21
Oscar
There are very few things these days that have me looking forward to coming to the field, but the last few weeks—it’s Mare.
The last three weeks we’ve spent a lot of time together, hanging out on the couch watching old movies, swapping movie quotes, taking naps together, and even hitting a few restaurants in the next town over.
Today though, is a late game, so we have the entire morning before either one of us has to be at the field, so I decided to take a trip over to Second Base Boutique before I meet her for lunch at Ruby’s.
There is nothing I love more than to surprise the person I care most about with little gifts, and she’s quickly claiming that title.
“Hi there, welcome in,” a voice calls in from the counter in the middle of the store. The girl behind the counter looks up at me as I approach, and her eyes widen, clearly in recognition.
She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out, instead her cheeks turn a light shade of pink and she brings her hands curled in her sleeves to her face in an attempt to hide her reaction.
Mango Bay is never cold, but this store is surprisingly frigid for a store designed for customers to undress.
I don’t bother introducing myself, it feels douchey.
“Hi, Sara.” I take a glance at her name tag.
“My um…” I pause. My what? What word do I use to describe Maren?
She’s not my girlfriend, we haven’t talked about labeling this, and the girl I’m sleeping with sounds equally as douchey as introducing myself to the girl behind the counter.
“The girl I’m seeing,” I cough in embarrassment, settling somewhere adjacent to what we are, “She came in here a few weeks ago to buy some things. Anyways, I wanted to surprise her, and I was wondering if there was any way to look up her size based on her last purchase.”
She offers me a smile, a slightly judgy smile, but nice nonetheless.
“If you tell me her name, I can look to see if she has an account. Some of our regulars like to save their measurements and shopping preferences to make things more convenient if they come in and a member of our team is here and has never helped them before.”
“Yeah, um… Maren McCrae.” I don’t know why I’m so damn nervous.
Her mouth drops open. “Mare is the girl you’ve been seeing?”
“Yes.” I let out a shaky breath.
“She is intimidatingly beautiful. I know she has an account, let me pull it up.” Her voice gets nervous, and I can’t tell if she has a thing for her, or idolizes her. Either way, it’s cute as hell. This girl can’t be more than 18, maybe 19 years old.
“Intimidating isn’t a word I’d use to describe her,” I laugh, trying to make her more comfortable.
“Don’t get me wrong, she’s so sweet, but, shit… she’s what every girl wishes she looked like. Tall. Long chestnut hair that lays perfect, even in a pony. Striking features… not to mention the perfect measurements for all of our lingerie lines. She looks great in everything we carry.”
“How, how do you know?” I ask with a stutter, nervous again for who knows what reason.
“Sometimes her and her friend come in here and just try things on and add them to their wish list. Oh— Do you want to grab something off her wishlist?”
For some reason the idea of her coming in here to try on lingerie makes my dick twitch in my pants, and the girl is not blind to my sudden shifting.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“Tell you what, I’ll look up her preferences and pull a few things that match along with a few things from her wishlist and you pick what calls to you.”
I give her a questioning look and she reads my mind.
“Trust me, something will call to you, and it’s just as much for you as it is for her.” That makes her blush again, and I wonder if she gets this flustered by all of her customers or if it’s just a combination of her girl crush and a local celebrity that does it.
She escorts me over to a small seating area with a large flat coffee table in the middle, and when she returns and lays out various items, not all lingerie, on the table, I feel like I’m in the middle of a scene from Pretty Woman.
“Ok, her profile is very… eclectic.” She clears her throat before she continues. “I’ll go over all of the items in detail, if that’s ok.”
“Sure,” I say, leaning forward to conceal my growing hardness as I take in the items on the table, picturing Mare as I do. It’s all I can do not to just tell her to bag them all up, but I know that would be overkill and diminish the gesture.
There are three lingerie sets and a few satin bags. Curiosity finds me wanting her to start with the bags but she opts for the lingerie instead.
“This first one is all satin, the high cut rounded shorts are some of her favorite designs. She loves the functionality, and how they ‘make her ass pop’.” she says, quoting Mare.
“A lacy tank top?” I question. That’s not exactly what I had in mind. But I quickly realize that if I would have just come in and picked something for her I would have been way off base.
“The next one is also satin, but this one has a few velvet embellishments around the breasts and along the inner seam, it creates textile variation for the touch.” As young as this girl seems, she is very delicate with her words. I’m impressed.
While the second choice doesn’t have a full top like the first, it’s still very modest for lingerie.
“Why are they all black?” I ask.
“It’s all she buys,” she explains, and now that I think of it, I’ve never seen her in a different color…
Well I’ve never seen her completely undressed either.
I’ve touched her, tasted her on my fingers, but never seen her.
The thought has me quickly readjusting for a waistband tuck as she leans into the bag to pull out a fourth set.
“I think this one might be more what you are looking for.” She smiles.
“What about the third one?” I question picking it up, and realizing it’s very similar to the first one.
She lays out a deep blue set, so dark it almost looks black.
You can only see the blue hues when the light catches the sheer lace fabric at just the right angle.
The top is still a tank top style, but instead of flowing like the others, it’s more like a corset.
The bottoms, also sheer, are cheeky and when she turns them towards me, she silently emphasizes that they are crotchless.
My face must give me away because she smiles and says, “I thought so.”
“I-I, obviously this is my favorite, but it’s too different from the others. I want to get something she’ll feel comfortable in.”
“This one is at the top of her wishlist. She tries it on every time she comes in. She’s even taken a few photos of herself in it.”
I immediately look at the sign above the dressing rooms to our right that clearly says no photos in large neon letters so you can’t miss them.
She shrugs, “My aunt Ruby is the owner, Mare can do pretty much whatever she wants. Including making payments towards this set every month.”
My mind is whirling as I try to take it all in. “Ruby is the owner?”
“Technically, on paper anyways. Her primary concern is the bar.”
“Why is she making payments?” This is my real question.
“Maren is smart with her money. She won’t buy frivolous things. Most of her purchases are practical pieces she can wear under her clothes or to bed and get the most out of, but this one is a little out of her price range.”
“What does she like about it?” I ask, reaching for my wallet.
“They’re still practical. She says most lingerie is minute wear, but because of the accessibility of these, you can keep them on.”
I smile. “Why blue?”
“It’s the closest to black. The only other colors they come in are red, green, and white. According to Mare, white is for a wedding, and the other colors are too much. This one is just off brand enough to feel special.”
“You know a lot about her,” I confirm.
“She comes here a lot.”
“Can you put the full amount on my card, and leave what she’s already paid for store credit for the next time she comes in?”
“Of course.” She looks at me in shock. “I’ll bring you the total.”
“No need. It doesn’t matter to me. If she loves it that much, it’s worth it.” I’ve never been too frivolous with my money either, but I’d rather make payments on this than for her to have to. “What’s in the bags?”
She pauses and comes back over and takes a seat. There are two satin bags. She opens them each carefully and places the items inside on top of their respective bags. “These are her two latest picks from the vault.”
I look down and inspect the set of silver nipple clamps on one side and a pair of rose gold ones on the other.
My breath hitches. “Latest?” I ask under a heady breath.
“According to her friend, Sadie, she has use for them now.” This makes her turn red as a tomato.
“Add whichever one she loves more to the bag,” I demand, sounding a little out of patience, because right now, I’m not sure how in the fuck I’m going to make it through an entire game with her feet away without carrying her back to her little office off the locker room and fucking the shit out her while I listen to her moan under the pressure of these fucking clamps.
I stand up and follow Sara to the counter knowing my waistband ain’t doing shit to hide my rapidly growing desire, and honestly, I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck!