The Dom With a Safeword (2 page)

“We’re very sorry,” Q said. “We had no idea –”

“
Your
property?
” Sabrina eyed him up and down. He didn’t seem the type to own a run-down mansion. “How could anybody live here? There aren’t even any lights on.”

“I’m renting it for the summer and a fuse blew.” He returned her stare. “Not that I need to explain anything to you. Just because it appears that nobody lives somewhere doesn’t mean you can do what you want to the place.”

“We weren’t going to
do
anything to it –”

“We’re sorry,” Q jumped in. “We didn’t mean any harm. Sabrina, apologize to the nice man so we can be on our way.”

“Sabrina,” he said evenly. “A pretty name. For a criminal.”

“So sweet.” She rolled her eyes. “And you are…”

“Still wondering what you’re doing in my yard.”

Maybe if she explained, he’d let her continue the investigation. She did have a way of convincing people to do what she wanted.

“I detected signs of paranormal activity. It happens frequently with these old houses. I just know there’s something here. All I need is a few hours. This house is probably rich with history –”

“Oh, I know all about the history of this house,” he said.

Her chest tightened with excitement and she took an involuntary step closer. “You do?”

He nodded.

“Then you’ll let me come back and do a full invest –”

“No.”

She stepped back, puzzled. “Why not?”

“Because I’m not interested.” He crossed his arms and stared down at her, mimicking Q’s stubborn expression.

“But…it won’t take long.” She gave him her best smile – the one that always worked on her father. “I won’t even charge you.”

His brows shot up. “Oh, you won’t charge me? That changes everything.”

“It does?”

“No.” His voice grew stern. “Now go home before you get yourselves shot by someone who thinks you’re a burglar.”

Asshole! Sabrina had never been known for her mild temper. “It won’t hurt you any, why are you being such a d –
ow
!” Something had pinched her ass. Q?

“I apologize for my friend,” Q said with a sincere smile. “She’s just very…”

“Persistent?”

“Passionate. About ghost hunting.”

“Paranormal inv
estigating!” Sabrina corrected.

“Not now, Sabrina,” Q gritted between her teeth. “Sorry for any inconvenience. We’ll be going now.” She grabbed Sabrina’s arm and tugged her through the yard, back the way they’d come.

Sabrina followed, reluctantly. Disappointment filled her and her shoulders sagged.

“Wait,” he said.

They turned.

He rubbed his face and mumbled, “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Do you have a card, little Miss
Ghostbuster
?”

Sabrina grinned. “Of course!” As a graphic artist, the first thing she’d made after becoming a paranormal investigator was a business card.

She yanked out of Q’s grip, walked back to the stranger, and handed him the card with her name and phone number.

One brow arched as he looked it over. “Sabrina Romano. Paranormal detective, otherworld investigator, and spirit guide.”

His gaze went to Q as if in question. She shrugged.

“What’s your name?” he asked, gesturing to Q.

“Q.”

“Just Q?”

“Yup.”

Sabrina snorted. No way was this guy getting her real name from those tight lips. As far as she knew, she and Q’s brothers were the only people alive who knew her real name. And Sabrina had been sworn to secrecy.

“Are you going to tell us your name?” Q asked.

He looked back and forth between them then gave a short laugh. “After being given a whole first letter? Sure. It’s Jude.”

Jude? He looked like a Jude. I
f it weren’t for the wife beater
and dirty jeans, he’d reek of money. Sabrina sidled closer with a wicked grin and batted her lashes.
Then she broke out into one of her favorite Beatles songs, hoping he loved the song that shared his name as much as she did.

H
e rolled his eyes as she sang
Hey, Jude
.
His lips twitched and he flicked his gaze to Q. “Is she always like this?”

“Pretty much.” She took Sabrina’s hand and squeezed it. “Come on, Lennon. Let’s not torture the poor guy any longer.”

Jude gestured to the front of the house. “I’ll let you out the front. There’s no need to slide through those broken rungs again.”

Q was polite enough to look ashamed. Sabrina didn’t often indulge in that feeling, especially not when Q was around to do it for the both of them. So she nodded and skipped ahead to where Jude pointed.

With a jiggle and a kick, he unlocked the front gate. Now why hadn’t she thought of that?

“Here,” he said, stooping to retrieve something on the ground. “You dropped your…”

Sabrina looked down at his outstretched hand as he fumbled for the right word. “EMF detector,” she answered for him.

He nodded as she took it from his hand. “Right.”

She had to admit, he was
kinda
cute. His lips were full and perfectly kissable. He smelled nice too – not cologne, just clean but still masculine. It had been a long time since she’d gotten any action. Except for that ass pinch. She glared at Q as they headed toward the street.

“Did you pinch my ass?” she whispered.

Q gave her a mysterious smirk. “You deserved it.”

Chapter 2

Q

Q could feel Sabrina’s gaze on her from across the living room. “What?” she growled.

Sabrina sidled up to her. With her hand on the back of Q’s chair, she looked at the computer screen. “What’s with the face?”

The casual pose Sabrina struck showed she had no idea of the
clamor
she’d created in Q’s head. She deliberately did not lick the sensitive skin on the inside of Sabrina’s elbow. Yet…it was right there.

“My ex,
Nico
. He just told me he can’t make it to the Slipknot concert tonight. He’s dropping his ticket off at lunch.”

With a grimace, Sabrina grabbed Q’s hands and tried to pull her toward the couch. She resisted. They had dubbed it The Couch of Sloth, because it sucked in victims and made them watch black-and-white movies until the wee hours of the morning. She had things to get done today.

“Why would you want to go to a concert with your ex, anyway? It’s weird. And he was a total jerk to you.”

Q grunted then pulled away and minimized the screen so Sabrina wouldn’t see his newest request for a date. She couldn’t decide if she could handle the roller coaster that was
Nico
, again. “He’s not that bad. It was better than going alone.”

“What?” Sabrina bounced up and down on her toes. “I’ll go! I love concerts.”

Could she be any more fucking adorable? Q could just eat her. She’d once thought Sabrina an airhead, but now she knew a lot of intelligence lurked behind her general enthusiasm for life. “You hate Slipknot, Sabrina. You’re going to sit around bored and insist we leave early. You’re also going to dress all cute. You can’t dress like that,” Q gestured to her current green sundress, “to go to one of my concerts. I saw what you were looking at on that fetish website the other day. A tutu? What are you, five?” she teased. It was a running joke between them. Granted, the tutu would have looked sweet on her – it just wasn’t acceptable for a Slipknot concert.

Sabrina glared at her indignantly. “It was a
punk
tutu!”

“There’s no such thing, girly. And there’s no way you’re coming unless I get to dress you. Why do you want to come anyway?”

“To check out the hot rocker guys with the long hair.”

“Rocker guys? Seriously? You can’t
still
use terms from the eighties. We were born in the eighties!” Q shut the lid to her laptop. “How did you manage to stay so innocent all these years, anyway? You’re almost twenty-seven for
fucksakes
.”

Sabrina grinned and started to dance, singing some song she didn’t recognize. She was always doing that – like her life was a Broa
dway musical. Though Q was hono
red to get to play a bit part in it, even if that’s all she ever was to Sabrina. The light that shone from Sabrina was dazzling, and sometimes she felt like an ugly moth that couldn’t bear to be away from it.

Q rolled her eyes. “I should go alone.”

Sabrina ended her solo number and frowned. “You can’t go to a concert alone. That’s creepy, even for you.”

“I’m nothing if not creepy. Or so you always tell me. I don’t want to take you to see Slipknot if you’re going to act and dress like a
doofus
.”

“I won’t sing if I don’t know the words and you can help me pick something to wear. But it has to be cute.
I don’t want to look like you.”

“Oh? And how do I look?”

Taking a step back, Sabrina examined her, gesturing for her to turn. Q just crossed her arms and raised her brows. Sabrina huffed. “Like a scary, dyke, mentally-unbalanced
goth
chick who needs a makeover.”

A laugh burst from Q’s mouth. Sabrina was nothing if not blunt. “I’m not
goth
. But it’s nice to feel the overwhelming love you have for me.” Q stood and stretched, her back popping satisfactorily. It was a constant battle between them – Sabrina trying to make her over, while she steadfastly refused.

That description had been the best yet. There was still no damned way Sabrina was getting her into a dress. She had detested them since she was little – always getting in the way and needing to be careful you didn’t flash people. So much trouble.
Nico
had
insisted she wear dresses
when they were dating – he’d said if he wanted to date a guy, he would have.

Sabrina slid her arms around Q’s waist. “You know I love you, sexy.
You’re my best friend.
”

It was impossible for her not to hug Sabrina, even though having her close was such a temptation.
Leave
it to me to fall in love with a straight girl.

Q leaned her temple against her forehead. She wasn’t a tall woman at five foot four, and Sabrina was only a couple inches shorter, but somehow she felt like an Amazon beside her. “If you want to go, I get to pick out your clothes. No negotiations. I have no problem going alone.” It was a lie, but she’d rather go alone than go with Sabrina looking like she’d just come from an art gallery.

Sabrina smelled like bubblegum again. It always made Q want to lick her.

“Okay, okay,” the smaller girl conceded. “But I want a skirt. And cute shoes.”

***

The shop Q dragged Sabrina into was a sea of black with hints of red and lime green. The prospect of picking out clothes for the girl was an interesting one. Pulse racing, she thought of being alone in the changing room with her, helping her dress, running her hands over her smooth, tanned skin. She rolled her eyes. Sabrina had given her imagination a lot to play with today.

In the midst of the evil-looking displays, Sabrina resembled a virgin sacrifice. The little white sundress and shiny pink lip gloss marked her as prey. She had even tied her shoulder-length blonde hair back with a big white ribbon. It was Sabrina’s idea of a joke, dressing like this to go to some of the edgier stores in town and it was keeping Q in a constant state of distraction. Visions of Sabrina bound and helpless flashed like an old film in her head.

Q avoided looking at her. Mouth-watering yet unavailable. The sexual tension tortured her. From the twinkle in her eye, Q could see this was the reaction Sabrina was hoping for.

She was so damned confusing. Sabrina swore she was straight, but she was such a tease. She obviously liked Q’s attention, but rejected her on an intellectual level. However, physically she was starting to give Q mixed messages. It gave her reason to hope.

At that very moment Sabrina was leaning over a glass jewelry display, the hem of her little sundress barely covering the bottom of her ass. Q caught a flash of the stylized purple butterfly tattoo Sabrina had gotten on her ankle a couple of years before. They’d gotten their tattoos at the same time though Q’s covered almost the whole side of her torso.

Sabrina sent her a sassy smile over her shoulder and turned back to shopping.

The thickly-muscled, tattooed store owner cast an admiring glance over Sabrina’s shapely legs and nodded at Q, giving her the thumbs-up. “Yours, Q?”

“I wish, Cross,” she muttered back.

They browsed the racks fast, since they were short on time. Several armfuls of clothes later, Cross showed them to a big fitting room at the back. He threw Q a wolfish grin. “Don’t make a mess in there.”

Q rolled her eyes and ushered Sabrina in, dumping a pile of dark clothing onto the bench. She stepped back and tried to close the door, but Sabrina caught it before it swung shut.