The Dom With a Safeword (5 page)

“Bi,” Sabrina finished on a sigh. Why did people have to be bi anyway? They should stick to one or the other. Everyone in their box, compartmentalized neatly so they made sense and she could feel like she understood something in this fucking universe – like she understood Q. As a second thought, she rushed to add, “But she likes guys.” She’d get her friend laid by this
hottie
if it was the last thing she did for her. “She
really
likes guys.”

Ugh. She could have smacked herself. She just made her best friend sound like a slut!

“Um,” she started, shaking her head. “What I mean is…” Protection for her friend overrode her embarrassment. Steeling herself, she raised her chin, stepped into him, and whispered in her best threatening voice, “Q is pretty and smart and funny, and if you hurt her, this Italian New Jersey Catholic schoolgirl will go all heels-off-drunken-chick-fight-in-a-bar on your ass.”

She watched him, looking for signs of anger while maintaining the diva attitude she’d learned from her aunts.

His lips merely twitched then he took her hand, which she’d just noticed was clenched into a fist, and brought it to his lips. “You’re awfully cute when you’re threatening me, Jersey girl.”

Her bones turned into a pile of mush when he ran his lips over her knuckles.

The porch door slammed, startling Sabrina into pulling from Jude’s grip. Q walked in, eyeing them suspiciously. Shit. A chance at hooking Q up with someone decent and she’d ruined it in a moment of spineless lust. Her face heated. She’d win the worst friend of the year award, hands down.

Q put an arm around Sabrina possessively while giving Jude a glare that would scare the mafia. She should know. One of her cousins was mafia.

“What did I miss?” Her gaze stayed fastened on Jude like a soldier eyeing an unexploded bomb. Maybe Sabrina should have warned him about Q’s protective streak.

“Nothing, Q,” Sabrina said, returning the hug to ease her. “Jude was just going to tell me about the house.”

“Let’s sit down,” he said, gesturing them toward the cozy, overstuffed furniture.

Q plopped down on one side of the sofa. Sabrina waited for Jude to take the seat next to her but he sat on the love seat instead, leaning back, one ankle crossed over his knee. Slightly disappointed he didn’t seize the opportunity, she occupied the spot next to Q. She seemed pleased and scooted closer until their thighs touched.

“This is a big place for one man,” Q said. “Or is there a wife and kids somewhere we should know about?”

“No wife or kids.”

“Are you a flipper?” Sabrina asked.

His brow descended. “A what?”

“A person who buys an old house and fixes it up then sells it again. I saw it on TV. A house flipper.”

“Ah” He nodded. “No. I’m renting this place for the summer. Actually the owner is letting me stay for free if I work on the interior. I happen to enjoy renovating old houses.”

“Why just for the summer?” Q asked. “You have other plans after that?”

His face drooped a little. “Medical school.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be in school?”

“Sabrina!” Q elbowed her in the ribs.

“What?” she said, dumbfounded. It was a valid question.

Jude chuckled. “I’m twenty-eight, Jersey girl. But it’s good to know I look old. Maybe I’ll invest in some new skin cream.”

“No,” Q said, giving Sabrina a harsh look. “You don’t look old at all. You look…” She trailed off, her face reddening.

“Distinguished,” Sabrina finished for her.

“Distinguished?” Jude laughed. “That’s the polite word for old.”

“Pretty much,” she agreed. Cause it was.

“Foot in your mouth,” Q whispered under her breath. “So what kind of doctor do you want to be?

“A surgeon. Like my father was. And my brother.” He waved his hand lazily. “And my father’s father and so on.”

She zoomed in on the one discrepancy. “Like your father
was
?”

His pained expression made her almost regret her nosiness.

“He’s been sick
for a while…years.” He nodded a little and stared into space for a few seconds. “But, yeah, he was an orthopedic surgeon.”

“You don’t seem too thrilled about becoming one,” Sabrina pointed out.

He shifted in his seat and shrugged. “Family tradition.”

She assessed him, using what she’d dubbed her Bullshit Detector. And it was beeping like crazy. “Family tradition, huh?”

Q gave her knee a squeeze. “You should know all about family pressure,” she whispered.

She dropped her gaze, fumbling with her hands. Damn her. Q always knew how to throw her off balance. Her family’s disapproval was the number one reason she refused to act on her more serious flirtations with her. Q knew it too.

“Anyway,” Jude started, stretching his arms overhead. The sleeves of his navy t-shirt slid up displaying his well-muscled biceps. “This summer is kind of my last hoorah before I’m forced to buckle down and grow up.”

“Growing up is overrated,” Q said.

“But necessary. Speaking of not growing up…” he said with a mischievous smirk at Sabrina, “how can I help with your ghost hunt?”

She narrowed her eyes. She’d ignore that little insult for now. “Anything you know about the former occupants of the house would help.”

“Well,” he leaned forward in his seat, “there was quite a scandal back in the eighteen hundreds.”

“A scandal!” She could almost feel her eyes lighting up.

“A tragic romance, a love triangle, and a murder,” he added in an exaggerated tone. “Some of it’s in the town records. But I had to read between the lines to get the real story.”

She clapped her hands excitedly. “Do tell!” If he was
shitting
her, she didn’t care. She could always kick his ass later.

Jude told the story. It was eighteen-fifty-three. The mayor lived in the house with his wife, three kids – one an infant – and several servants. His wife had fallen ill after giving birth and one of the servant’s young daughters came to help with the children. Her name was
Naima
and she caught the mayor’s eye with her stunning beauty and grace. She was keen on him as well and, as was common in that time, they had a tryst. As his wife, Grace, recovered, she and
Naima
spent time together looking after the children. Grace suspected the affair and grew jealous of the pretty girl. But
Naima
admired her and begged the mayor to ask his wife to allow her into the bedroom. Grace was appalled at the request. Jealousy and bitterness grew and formed a poisonous knot in her heart. Finally, she couldn’t look at the two exchange flirty glances any longer. She took the pistol from her husband’s study and shot him first. After, she went to the nursery to find
Naima
. When she walked in,
Naima
was facing away, looking out the window. Grace raised the gun and shot her in the back. But when she fell to the ground, Grace’s baby boy rolled out of
Naima’s
arms, bleeding from the head. He too, died.

Grace lived the rest of her long life in a miserable sorrow.

“Former occupants have said they could hear a woman wailing from time to time, especially in the early morning,” Jude finished.

“That’s awful!” Q cried.

“Yes, but that was ages ago.” Sabrina was practically bouncing out of her seat. A real haunted house! God, she must’ve looked like a hyper poodle that had to pee. But she couldn’t stop her excitement.

Jude laughed when she squeaked in anticipation. “Alright, little
ghostbuster
. Get to it then,” he said as he walked from the room.

She wasted no time unpacking her gear. It wasn’t dark quite yet but maybe, with some luck, she’d find
something
. And it still gave her a chance to charm her way into his good graces so he’d let her come back.

After throwing on her fishing vest to help stow her gadgets – which she’d bedazzled to match her knock-off designer denim skirt – she turned to check on Q.

“Do you have your camera stuff?” she asked her.

She was crouched as she assembled some fancy lens. “Yes.”

“You’ve got it on a fast shutter speed, right? I don’t want to miss anything.”

She gave her a tired look. “This isn’t my first time, little girl.”

“I know. Sorry.”

She snorted. “No you’re not.”

Sabrina grinned. Right again. She tucked the final EMF detector into her back pocket then sucked in a deep breath. “Ready.”

Q rose to her feet, her camera strapped around her neck. Jude returned and froze in place as ran his gaze over Sabrina, from head to toe.

Sabrina looked down, trying to see herself from his point of view. Lit up monitors and tape recording devices were stuffed into the vest pockets. A few gadgets hung from her utility belt, swinging into her bare thighs when she moved. A flashlight stuck out of one tight-fitting skirt pocket, her cell phone from the other.

She turned her head to peer at Q. She looked all photographer-like with her fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans. Her long straight black hair was perfectly styled to appear as if she’d just had a good tumble, which made her all the sexier. And here stood Sabrina, usually the fashionable of the two, looking like she’d dressed for some high-tech fishing-wear fashion show while tripping on acid.

Jude stared, his forehead creased, lips tight as if he were biting the inside of his cheek. Then he burst into laughter.

Sabrina put a hand on her hip and waited. “Go on. Get it out of your system.”

Q bit her lip but, like a good friend, didn’t laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he managed between the roars. “I’m sorry. You just look so cute.”

She stomped a foot. “Cute?”

He sobered and cleared his throat. “Sorry. You look very foreboding. I’m sure all the ghosts will take you very seriously.”

“This is Sabrina,” Q told him, matter-of-factly. “She’s at the height of fashion even while hunting for ghosts.”

Stomping past them with a scowl, she muttered, “Shut it, you two.”

Jude walked them up the rickety old stairs. When she grabbed the banister for balance, it teetered and she pulled her hand away fast. This place was fraught with danger. She grinned. So fun.

Jude ushered them from room to room – most were in the same decrepit condition as the front foyer. No action on any of her equipment, sadly. The largest bedroom had already been renovated, like the living room below. Empty, it would’ve made a lovely room. Large windows, refreshing light blue paint, beautiful hardwood floors. But she couldn’t ignore the laundry pile in one corner, the messy bed in the center of the room, and the cluttered dresser across from it. Definitely a bachelor pad.

“Sabrina,” Jude said. “Come here. You’ll be happy to see this.”

He stood by a closet door, hand on the doorknob.

A boy’s closet? She tossed him a skeptical look. “If it’s a porn collection, I’m not going to be impressed.”

“I will be,” Q piped from behind.

Jude swung open the door and motioned them inside. A tiny alcove with racks of clothes, as well as shelves – this wasn’t just a closet. Two walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Her mouth dropped open. Not just that but filled with books. She flitted over the titles quickly to gauge the kind of reading material the man owned. Everything from
The Great Gatsby
to
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy
.

“Be still my heart,” she gushed. “Books and clothes in the same place!”

She heard two chuckles behind her then Jude scooted by and put his hand on the side of one of the shelves. “Check this out.” He pushed and one of the shelves moved, opening to reveal a narrow passage.

“A secret passageway!” Sabrina bounced on her toes. “Where does it lead?”

Q stepped up with a sly smile. “To the dungeon where straight girls are defiled then pleasured until they scream.”

Jude laughed.

Ignoring him, Sabrina turned to give Q a challenging glare. “In your dreams, sexy.”

“Every night, beautiful.”

A loud bang from downstairs interrupted their heated stare-down. Jude excused himself with an explanation of materials being delivered.

Sabrina broke eye contact and peered inside the passage. “Should we see where it leads?”

“You’re not scared to be in a dark, abandoned tunnel with me?” she asked with a raised brow. “Especially after the dressing room?”

With a gulp, she pushed on the shelf and it slammed shut.

Q laughed. “I guess that answers that.”

They continued on their tour while Jude was gone, staying in the same wing so they didn’t get lost. Then, at last, her equipment came to life.

“This is it,” Sabrina said with the seriousness of a funeral attendant. She stared at the blue door ominously.

“It is?” Q squinted as she stepped closer.