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Buylinks above
Publisher: Wicked Cucumber Press Genre: Contemporary BDSM Mff, menage romance Late at night, on an amateur ghost hunt, Sabrina and her best friend Q are caught trespassing by the gorgeous, blonde Jude. The embers of attraction between them sizzle when they discover Jude’s kinks match their own. Jude is a Dom on his last summer of freedom before starting the prison sentence that is med school. Q is a badass bi switch who knows what she wants, and for years it’s been her cute, doe-eyed straight friend Sabrina. But the only way for Q into Sabrina’s heart and panties may be with Jude’s fist wrapped in her hair. Domming the bratty Q and mischievous Sabrina isn’t going to be easy but Jude relishes the challenge. At the end of the summer, will they find a way to stay together when everything is tearing them apart? |
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True Gem and 5 Stars! "Questionable choices, self-destructive behavior, beautiful friendship, off the charts sex and, finally, love... The collaboration of authors Cari Silverwood, Leia Shaw, and Sorcha Black is a three-some made in literary heaven."
~ Angeline de Luca, Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews Top Pick and 5 Stars! "There are some of the best love scenes I have ever read due to the emotions that just leap off the page in this story."~ Terri, Night Owl Book Reviews Reviewer Favorite and 5 Stars! "OMG! I must have more of these three characters! I love Q, Jude and Sabrina! They are perfect for each other and one book is just not enough" ~ Holly, Full Moon Bites Book Reviews
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Excerpt
Chapter 1
Sabrina
“This block is a hot bed of activity!” Sabrina declared. She sounded like a kid in a toy store even to her own ears. Q’s eyes must be rolling out of her head. “It’s gotta be one of these old houses. There’s so much history here.”
The pin on the EMF detector bounced from point three to point six every time she pointed due north. The mansion stood out from the other houses even without her equipment going berserk. At least one story higher than its neighbors, with old cracked windows and ivy crawling up the front roman style columns, it practically screamed Haunted: enter at your own risk.
Oh, she would enter all right. This could be the breakthrough she’d been waiting for. And it looked completely abandoned – unkempt and not a single light on inside or outside of the house.
She crept closer, ignoring the shudder that rocked her. Now was not the time to chicken out.
“If there’s something strange…in your neighborhood,” a soft voice sang behind her. “Who you gonna call?”
“Shh!” Sabrina scolded, laughing. “For the millionth time, I’m not a ghostbuster!”
“Ghostbuster, ghost hunter…” Q drawled, pressing the button on the Trifield Meter hooked to Sabrina’s belt. “Same thing.”
She batted Q’s hand away. “I’m a paranormal investigator.” With an air of pride, she took out the badge she’d just received in the mail. It came with her online certification in investigating spectral disruptions to the real-world plane.
Q leaned in to take a closer look then arched a brow. “Where did you get that? Cheesy Gimmicks ‘R Us?”
Sabrina scowled at her best friend. She was so getting revenge next time they went to a heavy metal concert. Maybe she’d buy the purple punk tutu she’d seen on the fetish store website Q had left open the other day. Her other one was black.
Q nudged her, jarring her from her diabolical thoughts. “Keep going. It’s getting late and super creepy out here.” She shivered and rubbed her arms.
Sabrina smirked. “Scared? Thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”
“I don’t. But I do believe in serial killers and rapists. And maybe zombies.” She gave her a little shove forward. “Hurry up.”
Sabrina pointed to the mansion, one house away. “It’s leading us there.”
To her amusement, Q stiffened then sighed. “Of course it is. It couldn’t take us to a cute, friendly-looking cottage, could it?”
Sabrina summoned a saucy smile. “Don’t worry Q. Lucky for you, Cheesy Gimmicks ‘R Us sells zombie repellent.” She held up a bottle of pepper spray.
“Smart ass.”
She chuckled then turned toward the house and crept along, grateful for the frequent streetlights. The house grew more ominous the closer they got. When they stood, staring up at it, mouths wide open, even Sabrina wondered if this was a bad idea.
“This is a bad idea,” Q whispered beside her.
She shook off the momentary lapse in courage. “Don’t be silly. Supernatural spirits can’t hurt us.”
“You say that, but that’s not how it works in the movies.”
Ignoring her friend, she studied the fence surrounding the property. About ten feet high and black iron, it appeared to run the length of the yard. She pushed on the gate door in front of them. Locked.
She stared up at spikes lining the top of the gate and sighed, pushing back her trepidation. “We’ll have to climb it.” Careful not to jar anything, she began removing her equipment, setting each device carefully on the ground.
“What? You’re insane!”
Possibly. “We’ll be fine. Just mind the spikes.” She placed one foot on the bottom rung and wrapped her hands around the bars.
Q stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Wait. There’s got to be another way.”
“There’s not. The fence runs the whole property. That’s how rich people protect their stupid stuff.” Sabrina pulled herself up one step.
“Wait!” Q tugged her back down. “Let me look before you go on this suicide mission.” Then she gave Sabrina that stubborn look she knew all too well. “Wait. Right here. No climbing.”
Sabrina knew not to argue with her when she got like this. She rolled her eyes. “Alright. But hurry up. We don’t want the cops to come this time.”
Q disappeared into the dark and Sabrina resumed her climb. Q would tackle her to the ground before she’d let her do something dangerous. And she just had to get over this fence. Overprotective friend. She’d never known anybody who cared so deeply for her. They weren’t a couple, but something more than friends. It was strange, she admitted when she thought about it too closely. So she didn’t. We are what we are, she told herself countless times.
Sabrina made it to the top of one side then froze while she analyzed the iron spikes. If she could get one leg between the two spikes then she could straddle the fence without impaling her girly bits. She grimaced at the visual.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Q said from below.
“Shh! I’m trying to concentrate!” Her muscles ached from holding her in the awkward position.
“Don’t fall!”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you. Whatever would I do without your genius advi-ahhh!” The foot holding most of her body weight slipped and she tumbled to the ground.
She landed mostly on her ass, but it knocked the wind out of her.
“Are you alright?” Q asked frantically, helping her up.
Miffed at the setback, Sabrina grumbled. “I’m fine.” A little soreness where she’d landed but it could’ve been worse.
Q sighed and turned her around, looking her over. “There’s dirt all over you. I told you this was a bad idea,” she scolded, brushing the dirt off her back and ass – a little too roughly. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“Ow! Not so hard!”
Q held her still with hands on her upper arms. “I found a broken rung. We can squeeze through. But if we do this, you have to promise, nothing else dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” She smirked. “What could be dangerous about ghost hunting?”
Q gave her an exasperated look then released her. “Smartass.”
“You already said that.” Sabrina collected her equipment off the ground.
“You go through life in a perpetual state of smartassery.”
Sabrina handed Q her photography gear, thankful her friend had experience and was willing, for the most part, to help her. “Only for you, sexy.” She winked.
Grinning, Q shook her head. “What have I told you about flirting with bi chicks? One of these days you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
“I’m willing to chance it. Now show me where this broken rung is.”
They slid through the gate with very little trouble, both being on the slender side. The half moon didn’t provide much light and having moved away from the comfort of the street lights, Sabrina couldn’t stop the rapid pitter patter of her heart. She grabbed the flashlight from one of the pockets on her cargo pants then shone it around them.
The ground was covered in dead, overgrown grass. A dilapidated shed sat behind and to the left of the house. Several garbage cans blocked the shed door and the quiet beeps of the equipment pointed straight toward it. A dark entrance in the creepiest part of the creepiest yard of the creepiest house. This was shaping up to be a great beginning for a horror movie. Was she the character who survives or the screamer who dies first?
The air temperature gauge, attached by Velcro around her upper arm, lit up bright red. She froze and Q bumped into her back.
“What the –”
“Shh!” Sabrina ripped off the meter and studied it. “There’s something by the shed. Behind the garbage cans.”
“Something?” she squeaked. “Fuck.”
Something that scanned the body temperature of a person. But that couldn’t be right. Ghosts didn’t register the same temperature as humans. “Stay here if you want. I’m going closer.”
Q grabbed her shirt sleeve. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
They walked, slowly, Q holding onto Sabrina’s shirt sleeve, toward the cluster of cans.
“Your weird beeping shit is going crazy,” Q whispered.
“I know. I’ve never had this much activity before.” Ever. And it scared the hell out of her. Almost as much as it thrilled her. Maybe if she had proof she could detect something otherworldly, she could actually charge people money to do this.
A few more feet to the garbage cans. Closer. Closer…
A dark figure leapt toward them from behind the cans and growled.
Sabrina’s heart jumped to her throat and she screamed. Q’s fingernails dug into her arm and she screamed too.
A human male chuckle rose up over their screams. She stopped. Human? She looked toward the tall figure but couldn’t make out any details. Where was her flashlight? She must’ve dropped it in the chaos. She reached down, her fingers scrabbling frantically until she found it. Cold dancing up her spine, hands shaking, she clicked on the light then swung it in the direction of the laugh.
“Whoa!” a deep voice rumbled. “Get that out of my eyes.”
A man. Young. Handsome – trim blond hair and high cheek bones. But now was not the time to remark on such things. The shit had scared the hell out of them. Her heart was still thudding like a stampede in her throat.
“Calm down,” he said, gentler, shielding his eyes with his hands. “Put the light down.”
Calm down? In a fit of anger she chucked the flashlight at his head. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled. A second later she was aghast at her move. She’d just assaulted a stranger?
He’d caught the flashlight – thank god – then he turned toward the shed and picked his way through the debris on the ground toward the door.
“Hey!” Sabrina called after him. “That’s my flashlight!” He ignored her and she spun on Q. “What is he doing?”
“You shouldn’t have thrown it at him. And we’re the ones trespassing. Just apologize and let’s get out of here.”
A light above the shed flickered then turned on, illuminating the area where they stood. Heavy steps came from the side of the shed. The man who came out of the darkness wore a wife beater, a frown, and a set of biceps she could sink her teeth into.
He held out her flashlight.
She grabbed it rudely.
“Thank you,” he said, ignoring her glare. “That was very helpful. Now, what are you doing sneaking around on my property?”
“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 investigating!” 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. If 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. “Hey, Jude. Don’t make it bad….”
He rolled his eyes as she sang one of her favorite Beatles songs.
“Please let us…” she continued, improvising the words. “Into your house…”
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 Broadway musical. Though Q was honored 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.
“Come in and help me. I’m going to need you for the buckles and things. You know how to put them on right.” She toyed with a lock of her hair, like she did when she was nervous. What was she up to?
Her grip on the door tightened, making the edge dig into her hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” All the images she’d ever had of Sabrina naked slipped back into her mind. She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Oh please! You’re not going to try to have your way with me in a dressing room, are you?” she asked with a flirty smile and naughty gleam in her eye. Sabrina knew damn well Q would love to do just that.
Heaving a sigh, Q walked in and shut the door behind her. She was making a big mistake. As she chanted in her head that she could control herself, she locked the door. Sabrina shucked off her dress, and Q averted her eyes. At times like this she wished Sabrina was a little shyer.
“What do you think?” she asked after a few moments.
Q looked up and swallowed hard. Sabrina was standing in front of her in a white lace bra and panty set. The wispy fabric left little to the imagination.
“I just got them yesterday. Are they cute?” She turned to show Q that the underwear were of the thong persuasion. The curve of her perfect ass beckoned.
Q balled her fists at her sides. There was no way even Sabrina was this naïve. What was she playing at? The feeling of her clit throbbing hard against the seam of her jeans made her lightheaded. “Very... uh... pretty,” she gasped.
Sabrina smiled seductively. “Pretty? Is that all you have to say?”
With every second, her control was slipping away. “Put some clothes on before I make you regret it, little girl,” she growled. Maybe spanking her ass – or biting it – would teach her to behave.
“Little girl? I’m older than you are.”
“By six months. You’re also lighter and shorter than I am. I could do all sorts of naughty things to you and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
“I dare you try.”
This close, she could see Sabrina’s breathing deepen and the faintest tremble take hold of her.
Q took two steps and glared down at her. “I don’t take dares.” Their gaze locked and there was a silent battle of wills. The pupils of Sabrina’s eyes dilated and she blinked. Slowly, Q lowered her lips until they hovered just barely above hers. The other girl shifted her gaze to her mouth. Q brushed her lips softly against Sabrina’s, then drew back.
Sabrina made a little mewling sound, frowned, then gave herself a shake. She turned fast and grabbed the topmost skirt and slipped it on as though nothing had happened. The rapid rise and fall of her chest suggested she wasn’t as unaffected as she was trying to act. The matching purple PVC shirt she’d picked buckled up the front, and Sabrina fumbled with it for a few minutes before conceding defeat.
“Can you help?” she asked in a small voice.
Q sat in the pile of clothing on the bench and waved her over. Could a person faint from lust? Sabrina stopped in front of her, reddening. By the time Q got to the third buckle up, the soft swell of Sabrina’s breasts became impossible to ignore. She brushed her fingers lightly over the tops of them. Her breath caught in her throat. The nerves in Q’s fingertips felt like they were sizzling with electricity.
Sabrina’s eyes closed and she thrust her chest out in a silent plea for more.
“You don’t act like a straight girl.”
“You don’t make me feel like one,” she breathed, looking down at Q.
“Unhook your bra.”
“What?”
“Do it,” Q commanded. She was often shocked at how easily she could get Sabrina to obey her. This was pushing things. Would she do it?
“Uh...”
“You can’t wear a bra with this shirt. This one’s got a hole in the back and the strap will show.”
“Oh!” Sabrina gave a nervous giggle and turned away, unclasping it and slipping it off through the armholes. She tried to yank the edges of the top together to cover herself before turning back. By holding it in place, she just barely concealed her nipples. “I think it’s too small.”
“No, it’s fine. It just needs to be tied. Let go.”
“But...”
“Now, little girl.”
Sabrina’s fingers slowly let go and the sides of the shirt slid aside of their own accord. The shirt didn’t cover anything important anymore, but held her breasts up like a bustier. She brought her hands up and covered her nipples. “Just buckle it already!”
“No. I want to look at you first. Drop your hands.” If Sabrina did this, there was no more wondering about where things stood between them. Q waited, holding her breath and shifting to ease the seam of her jeans away from her clit.
Sabrina whined and flushed terribly red, but she obeyed.
Oh fuck. Q leaned back against the wall and let her gaze slide over her friend, from her conflicted eyes to her parted lips, and down to the luscious curves of her breasts. Her pretty pink nipples were hard and Q fought not to touch. Yet.
“Are you done now? Help me get this buckled. What do you want to look at me for, anyway? You ogle perfect models all day.” Sabrina’s words came out in a rush, like they were falling over themselves to leave her mouth.
“You’re perfect. And as for the models, if I was into plastic, I’d buy myself a Barbie.”
She grumbled and her brow creased. “Well just take a damn picture already. It’ll last longer.”
“I’d love to take pictures of you. Are you volunteering?” Q felt a little guilty for pushing her – Sabrina did think of herself as straight. This was a big step.
“Can we discuss this some other time? I need to find something for tonight so we can go home and get ready.” And yet, despite her protests she didn’t move.
Interesting.
“Can I touch you, Sabrina?”
A fresh flood of color rushed to her face, but after a pause she nodded, looking at her toes. She bit her pretty bottom lip endearingly.
Q squirmed in her seat, trying not to let on that her control was evaporating. God, she makes me so crazy.
The first touch of Sabrina’s skin was like silk and she barely held back a groan. Part of her brain clamored for her to stop, but she couldn’t will herself to do so. Possessed by her inner hedonist, her hands slid up to cup Sabrina’s breasts. She rubbed her thumbs gently over her nipples.
The hiss of Sabrina’s breath spurred Q on, and the girl thrust forward into her caress. “Please, Q! You’re killing me.”
“Shh! Cross is going to hear you. He’d probably come watch. And such a pretty show he’d get. It’s a shame not to share it.” She rolled both nipples between thumb and fingers.
“No, Q,” she whimpered quietly.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No! Just don’t call your friend in here. I’d die.”
“Okay then…quiet.” Q leaned forward, the light scent of bubblegum on Sabrina’s warm skin making her want more. Even the smell of her was intoxicating.
Her gaze met Sabrina’s as she swept her tongue over the point of her nipple. It tightened, and Q kissed it lightly before sucking it into her mouth. She pressed Sabrina closer with a hand on her lower back, her other hand brushing from just behind her knee, upwards under the PVC schoolgirl skirt. As she sucked, flicking her tongue, Sabrina’s little moans of pleasure encouraged her. Q traced her fingers under the skirt, along the globe of Sabrina’s ass then drew them toward the front of her panties.
A loud knock made them both jump. “Yes?” Q managed to say, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless.
“You two are taking awhile in there. You need a hand?” The bastard was laughing.
Q grinned up at Sabrina who still looked dazed. “Do we need help?”
Sabrina’s eyes focused and she shook her head emphatically.
“No, Cross. We’ll be out in a couple of minutes.” Internally, she swore a blue streak. The interruption was welcome, in a way. She didn’t know if she would have been able to stop without intervention, and Sabrina deserved better than to be with her first girl in a changing room. They were too old for that shit.
“Suit yourself, Q. If you change your mind just holler.”
Sabrina covered her face with her hands. “Let’s just take this and go. Can I wait for you in the car? Take my bank card.”
“It looks like it will fit and it’s hot on you. You okay?” Q stood, drawing her friend into her arms. Sabrina clung to her, which pleased her immensely. She kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go to the cashier. Here are my keys. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sabrina changed back into her little white dress so fast Q didn’t get a good look at anything. She bolted out of the fitting room for the car.
As she paid, Q wondered if Sabrina would ever let her touch her again, and hoped to hell she hadn’t just fucked everything up.
Chapter 3
Jude
Jude leaned back in his chair. Fifth row back from the front row of the seats, with the mosh pit swarming in front of him – almost the best place at a Slipknot concert. He’d not dared the mosh pit itself. His father’s words ran through his head whenever he considered it.
Think ahead, Jude. Keep your head on your shoulders, think ahead, and stay safe.
Well. Done that. Thought ahead. A surgeon didn’t need broken fingers from some overweight wrecking ball bouncing off him in the pit. Though… He heaved out a sigh. This would be his last heavy metal concert.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair, feeling the short strands curling over his fingers. His surfer cut had gone too. He hadn’t worn his guitar-playing Fuck-the-Empire Stormtrooper t-shirt in case somebody here decided that made him a pussy. In the future, that and the Dethklok shirt he’d bought in Germany would only see the light if he was mowing the lawn of his picket-fenced mansion.
What about his kink life? Would he have to give that up too? That was one thing he didn’t think he could live without. A quarter of the kinksters at the local BDSM club seemed to be professionals, so maybe not. Tying up women, dominating them – since his early college days, he’d delved further and further into that fascinating world. Though he’d never checked out the BDSM community in Michigan, maybe it would be the same?
He looked down. Plain black buttoned shirt. Boring. Stable. Black and boring like his future. Years of pre-med, then diversion in Europe for a few years to “get his head straight” but now he was cornered. Even since he was a kid, his father had expected him to be a doctor. Planned it, labeled him, squashed him into a mold.
The music pulsed to life, ramming straight into his skull and clearing away all his good, doctor-like thoughts. The crowd screamed. The mosh pit surged inward.
“Fuck.” He stood up, feeling the sheer energy from swearing course through him like a storm tide sweeping a beach clean.
Playing it safe and thinking ahead could wait another day. He edged along to the aisle and jogged down. The strobing lights flashed on something purple ahead of him. A woman? At least she was staying on the edge. Up on the tiptoes of her black boots, she strived to see past a shaggy-haired teenager. She jiggled about, teetering. Her curves invited appraisal, especially where the pert mounds of her ass showed beneath her short skirt, and he admired them as he walked closer. There must be a boyfriend, here, moshing.
Tendrils of her hair curled down to the neckline of the little purple outfit – the back of which was wide open and displayed a delicious amount of skin. The PVC schoolgirl skirt drew his eye to her beautiful legs. Fetish wear – he’d bet his life on it. As he drew closer, aiming to squeeze between her and a six-foot bruiser of a guy, her profile stopped him dead.
He knew that face. The right shade of blond hair too. The name snapped into place in his mind – Sabrina – the smart-mouthed crazy one who liked ghost-hunting. How could he ever forget the two sexy girls who’d invaded his yard a few nights ago?
Fetish wear, though? His mind wandered down that kinky path for a second. But…so what? Some wore it just for fun. Didn’t mean she liked getting tied up and dominated. Unfortunately.
Despite the drowning volume of the heavy music, he heard her scream.
“Q!”
Jude put a hand on her shoulder and saw instantly why she’d screamed. Her friend was down on the floor, arms flopped to the side. A circle of men had formed around her, stopping her from being trampled by others. By the time he got past the big guy, another had dragged her to her feet and propelled her toward him and the screaming, waving Sabrina.
Somehow he ended up taking one arm and supporting Q across the back while Sabrina helped on the other side. Together they made it outside past security on the doors. The sound muted as the doors shut behind them.
“Thanks,” Sabrina panted then she cut short and scanned up and down Jude’s face. “Hey. It’s you!”
“Who?” Q turned to look, trying to wriggle loose from his arm. She seemed steady so reluctantly he let her go and stepped away. “Oh. I know you.” She frowned, clearly trying to think of his name.
He brushed some of her raven black hair from her forehead and couldn’t help noticing the cool flow of it across his fingers. A scratch on her forehead trickled blood down to her cheekbone. But her pretty eyes were focused. Her stance was solid. She blinked at him.
“You don’t seem to have concussion.” Jude lowered his hand, let a bit of the tension ebb away.
More security was approaching as if to check they were okay. The guard raised both eyebrows and spoke into his shoulder mic. When Jude shook his head, he backed off.
He turned back to the girls. “Yeah. It’s me. You trespassed in my yard, remember? You two seem to like trouble. Come on, ghost hunters. Let’s sit down.”
Sabrina peered up at her friend while patting her shoulder. “Hmm. She’s never this quiet. I agree. You should sit down.”
“Look. I’m okay. Someone tripped me and I landed badly. I’m okay.” Q put out her arms as if to push them away. “Both of you. I’m okay. Let’s go back in, Sabrina.”
“No.”
The set tone and stern, if pouting, look from Sabrina seemed to startle Q but she recovered and said indignantly, “Excuse me, miss? I’m not your little –”
He took her arm again. “You’ve got blood on your elbow too. You should at least get cleaned up.” These two had some interesting dynamic going. But now wasn’t the time for figuring it out.
Sabrina smiled and mouthed, thank you, at him.
A few yards away, was the broad row of concrete steps leading down toward the parking lot. He pointed. “Over there.”
Q shut her eyes. “Fine. Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”
The steps were cold even through his jeans but the floodlight above let Jude methodically go over Q to check for wounds. Elbow and forehead grazes were all he could find – the elbow one hard to find under her full-sleeve tattoo. Cybernetic enhancements inked in dark colors extended from the back of her hand up her arm and into her shirtsleeve. He rotated the hand he held to double-check her palm. “Nice tat. Your cyborg parts probably saved you from any real harm. Though,” he looked into Q’s eyes, “you might have injuries, bruising, elsewhere. Under your clothes.”
“Well.” Q pulled her slender hand away. A tingle ran across his fingers as her skin slipped over his. She straightened and seemed to gather her dignity. Her breasts jutted out. “Thanks for your… help, but you’re not looking under my clothes.”
“I never…” He couldn’t help smiling. “I wasn’t saying I would, Q.”
“Idiot.” Sabrina muttered. She leaned across Q. “Jude, you sure she’s not concussed?”
Her sudden yelp and jump and Q’s smug expression said it all. She’d been pinched.
Definitely an interesting relationship.
“Ladies…” He stood and dusted the back of his jeans with his hands. The girls rose to their feet. “I just had a thought. There should be a first aid room. How about we find it and clean off the blood. If you two want to go back in after that, okay, but no more mosh pit.”
“Hey. Stop right there.” Q set her mouth in a line. “If I want to go back, I will.”
“Not if I tell security I think you have a concussion. By the time they figure that out, most of the concert will be over.”
Or he prayed it would. He sure wasn’t letting her go do that again. A mosh pit was no place for a beautiful woman…women. The two of them were enough to tempt him. They both stared back at him as if he’d sprouted horns. Glossy kissable mouths, and these women looked so good as a pair that he could just see them on their knees before him. He shook his head. Damn, if his dick wasn’t thinking of rising to the occasion.
Q stirred. Her forehead creased. “You can’t –”
“Can.” His Dom side was coming out, but hell, he was going to let it. “I don’t actually know for sure you aren’t concussed. You were looking stunned there for a while.” He inhaled, held it. The thought he’d just had was so good. Would they? “Tell you what. I’ll let you come and check my house for ghosts, if you promise to stay out of the mosh pit. Deal?”
“Yes!” Sabrina’s eyes lit up and she let out a squeal. “Deal.”
Her grin made him grin back. “Good.”
Q shook her head. “A Slipknot concert and we’re out here arguing over ghosts.” She sighed and smiled ruefully down at Sabrina. “Fine. For you.”
“Thank you.” Sabrina went up on her toes and kissed Q’s cheek.
The softening of Q’s expression gave Jude pause. So cute.
Maybe they were bi, but that didn’t rule a man out. He could still hope. He let one side of his mouth twist up. Yep. He was sure doing that. If only his hopes weren’t so kinky, and didn’t involve rope and spankings, and the two of them begging permission from him to orgasm, he might have had a chance. As it stood, a snowball in Hell had a better chance.
Chapter 1
Sabrina
“This block is a hot bed of activity!” Sabrina declared. She sounded like a kid in a toy store even to her own ears. Q’s eyes must be rolling out of her head. “It’s gotta be one of these old houses. There’s so much history here.”
The pin on the EMF detector bounced from point three to point six every time she pointed due north. The mansion stood out from the other houses even without her equipment going berserk. At least one story higher than its neighbors, with old cracked windows and ivy crawling up the front roman style columns, it practically screamed Haunted: enter at your own risk.
Oh, she would enter all right. This could be the breakthrough she’d been waiting for. And it looked completely abandoned – unkempt and not a single light on inside or outside of the house.
She crept closer, ignoring the shudder that rocked her. Now was not the time to chicken out.
“If there’s something strange…in your neighborhood,” a soft voice sang behind her. “Who you gonna call?”
“Shh!” Sabrina scolded, laughing. “For the millionth time, I’m not a ghostbuster!”
“Ghostbuster, ghost hunter…” Q drawled, pressing the button on the Trifield Meter hooked to Sabrina’s belt. “Same thing.”
She batted Q’s hand away. “I’m a paranormal investigator.” With an air of pride, she took out the badge she’d just received in the mail. It came with her online certification in investigating spectral disruptions to the real-world plane.
Q leaned in to take a closer look then arched a brow. “Where did you get that? Cheesy Gimmicks ‘R Us?”
Sabrina scowled at her best friend. She was so getting revenge next time they went to a heavy metal concert. Maybe she’d buy the purple punk tutu she’d seen on the fetish store website Q had left open the other day. Her other one was black.
Q nudged her, jarring her from her diabolical thoughts. “Keep going. It’s getting late and super creepy out here.” She shivered and rubbed her arms.
Sabrina smirked. “Scared? Thought you didn’t believe in ghosts.”
“I don’t. But I do believe in serial killers and rapists. And maybe zombies.” She gave her a little shove forward. “Hurry up.”
Sabrina pointed to the mansion, one house away. “It’s leading us there.”
To her amusement, Q stiffened then sighed. “Of course it is. It couldn’t take us to a cute, friendly-looking cottage, could it?”
Sabrina summoned a saucy smile. “Don’t worry Q. Lucky for you, Cheesy Gimmicks ‘R Us sells zombie repellent.” She held up a bottle of pepper spray.
“Smart ass.”
She chuckled then turned toward the house and crept along, grateful for the frequent streetlights. The house grew more ominous the closer they got. When they stood, staring up at it, mouths wide open, even Sabrina wondered if this was a bad idea.
“This is a bad idea,” Q whispered beside her.
She shook off the momentary lapse in courage. “Don’t be silly. Supernatural spirits can’t hurt us.”
“You say that, but that’s not how it works in the movies.”
Ignoring her friend, she studied the fence surrounding the property. About ten feet high and black iron, it appeared to run the length of the yard. She pushed on the gate door in front of them. Locked.
She stared up at spikes lining the top of the gate and sighed, pushing back her trepidation. “We’ll have to climb it.” Careful not to jar anything, she began removing her equipment, setting each device carefully on the ground.
“What? You’re insane!”
Possibly. “We’ll be fine. Just mind the spikes.” She placed one foot on the bottom rung and wrapped her hands around the bars.
Q stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Wait. There’s got to be another way.”
“There’s not. The fence runs the whole property. That’s how rich people protect their stupid stuff.” Sabrina pulled herself up one step.
“Wait!” Q tugged her back down. “Let me look before you go on this suicide mission.” Then she gave Sabrina that stubborn look she knew all too well. “Wait. Right here. No climbing.”
Sabrina knew not to argue with her when she got like this. She rolled her eyes. “Alright. But hurry up. We don’t want the cops to come this time.”
Q disappeared into the dark and Sabrina resumed her climb. Q would tackle her to the ground before she’d let her do something dangerous. And she just had to get over this fence. Overprotective friend. She’d never known anybody who cared so deeply for her. They weren’t a couple, but something more than friends. It was strange, she admitted when she thought about it too closely. So she didn’t. We are what we are, she told herself countless times.
Sabrina made it to the top of one side then froze while she analyzed the iron spikes. If she could get one leg between the two spikes then she could straddle the fence without impaling her girly bits. She grimaced at the visual.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Q said from below.
“Shh! I’m trying to concentrate!” Her muscles ached from holding her in the awkward position.
“Don’t fall!”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, thank you. Whatever would I do without your genius advi-ahhh!” The foot holding most of her body weight slipped and she tumbled to the ground.
She landed mostly on her ass, but it knocked the wind out of her.
“Are you alright?” Q asked frantically, helping her up.
Miffed at the setback, Sabrina grumbled. “I’m fine.” A little soreness where she’d landed but it could’ve been worse.
Q sighed and turned her around, looking her over. “There’s dirt all over you. I told you this was a bad idea,” she scolded, brushing the dirt off her back and ass – a little too roughly. “What did you think was going to happen?”
“Ow! Not so hard!”
Q held her still with hands on her upper arms. “I found a broken rung. We can squeeze through. But if we do this, you have to promise, nothing else dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” She smirked. “What could be dangerous about ghost hunting?”
Q gave her an exasperated look then released her. “Smartass.”
“You already said that.” Sabrina collected her equipment off the ground.
“You go through life in a perpetual state of smartassery.”
Sabrina handed Q her photography gear, thankful her friend had experience and was willing, for the most part, to help her. “Only for you, sexy.” She winked.
Grinning, Q shook her head. “What have I told you about flirting with bi chicks? One of these days you’ll get more than you bargained for.”
“I’m willing to chance it. Now show me where this broken rung is.”
They slid through the gate with very little trouble, both being on the slender side. The half moon didn’t provide much light and having moved away from the comfort of the street lights, Sabrina couldn’t stop the rapid pitter patter of her heart. She grabbed the flashlight from one of the pockets on her cargo pants then shone it around them.
The ground was covered in dead, overgrown grass. A dilapidated shed sat behind and to the left of the house. Several garbage cans blocked the shed door and the quiet beeps of the equipment pointed straight toward it. A dark entrance in the creepiest part of the creepiest yard of the creepiest house. This was shaping up to be a great beginning for a horror movie. Was she the character who survives or the screamer who dies first?
The air temperature gauge, attached by Velcro around her upper arm, lit up bright red. She froze and Q bumped into her back.
“What the –”
“Shh!” Sabrina ripped off the meter and studied it. “There’s something by the shed. Behind the garbage cans.”
“Something?” she squeaked. “Fuck.”
Something that scanned the body temperature of a person. But that couldn’t be right. Ghosts didn’t register the same temperature as humans. “Stay here if you want. I’m going closer.”
Q grabbed her shirt sleeve. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
They walked, slowly, Q holding onto Sabrina’s shirt sleeve, toward the cluster of cans.
“Your weird beeping shit is going crazy,” Q whispered.
“I know. I’ve never had this much activity before.” Ever. And it scared the hell out of her. Almost as much as it thrilled her. Maybe if she had proof she could detect something otherworldly, she could actually charge people money to do this.
A few more feet to the garbage cans. Closer. Closer…
A dark figure leapt toward them from behind the cans and growled.
Sabrina’s heart jumped to her throat and she screamed. Q’s fingernails dug into her arm and she screamed too.
A human male chuckle rose up over their screams. She stopped. Human? She looked toward the tall figure but couldn’t make out any details. Where was her flashlight? She must’ve dropped it in the chaos. She reached down, her fingers scrabbling frantically until she found it. Cold dancing up her spine, hands shaking, she clicked on the light then swung it in the direction of the laugh.
“Whoa!” a deep voice rumbled. “Get that out of my eyes.”
A man. Young. Handsome – trim blond hair and high cheek bones. But now was not the time to remark on such things. The shit had scared the hell out of them. Her heart was still thudding like a stampede in her throat.
“Calm down,” he said, gentler, shielding his eyes with his hands. “Put the light down.”
Calm down? In a fit of anger she chucked the flashlight at his head. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled. A second later she was aghast at her move. She’d just assaulted a stranger?
He’d caught the flashlight – thank god – then he turned toward the shed and picked his way through the debris on the ground toward the door.
“Hey!” Sabrina called after him. “That’s my flashlight!” He ignored her and she spun on Q. “What is he doing?”
“You shouldn’t have thrown it at him. And we’re the ones trespassing. Just apologize and let’s get out of here.”
A light above the shed flickered then turned on, illuminating the area where they stood. Heavy steps came from the side of the shed. The man who came out of the darkness wore a wife beater, a frown, and a set of biceps she could sink her teeth into.
He held out her flashlight.
She grabbed it rudely.
“Thank you,” he said, ignoring her glare. “That was very helpful. Now, what are you doing sneaking around on my property?”
“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 investigating!” 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. If 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. “Hey, Jude. Don’t make it bad….”
He rolled his eyes as she sang one of her favorite Beatles songs.
“Please let us…” she continued, improvising the words. “Into your house…”
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 Broadway musical. Though Q was honored 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.
“Come in and help me. I’m going to need you for the buckles and things. You know how to put them on right.” She toyed with a lock of her hair, like she did when she was nervous. What was she up to?
Her grip on the door tightened, making the edge dig into her hand. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” All the images she’d ever had of Sabrina naked slipped back into her mind. She tugged at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Oh please! You’re not going to try to have your way with me in a dressing room, are you?” she asked with a flirty smile and naughty gleam in her eye. Sabrina knew damn well Q would love to do just that.
Heaving a sigh, Q walked in and shut the door behind her. She was making a big mistake. As she chanted in her head that she could control herself, she locked the door. Sabrina shucked off her dress, and Q averted her eyes. At times like this she wished Sabrina was a little shyer.
“What do you think?” she asked after a few moments.
Q looked up and swallowed hard. Sabrina was standing in front of her in a white lace bra and panty set. The wispy fabric left little to the imagination.
“I just got them yesterday. Are they cute?” She turned to show Q that the underwear were of the thong persuasion. The curve of her perfect ass beckoned.
Q balled her fists at her sides. There was no way even Sabrina was this naïve. What was she playing at? The feeling of her clit throbbing hard against the seam of her jeans made her lightheaded. “Very... uh... pretty,” she gasped.
Sabrina smiled seductively. “Pretty? Is that all you have to say?”
With every second, her control was slipping away. “Put some clothes on before I make you regret it, little girl,” she growled. Maybe spanking her ass – or biting it – would teach her to behave.
“Little girl? I’m older than you are.”
“By six months. You’re also lighter and shorter than I am. I could do all sorts of naughty things to you and you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”
“I dare you try.”
This close, she could see Sabrina’s breathing deepen and the faintest tremble take hold of her.
Q took two steps and glared down at her. “I don’t take dares.” Their gaze locked and there was a silent battle of wills. The pupils of Sabrina’s eyes dilated and she blinked. Slowly, Q lowered her lips until they hovered just barely above hers. The other girl shifted her gaze to her mouth. Q brushed her lips softly against Sabrina’s, then drew back.
Sabrina made a little mewling sound, frowned, then gave herself a shake. She turned fast and grabbed the topmost skirt and slipped it on as though nothing had happened. The rapid rise and fall of her chest suggested she wasn’t as unaffected as she was trying to act. The matching purple PVC shirt she’d picked buckled up the front, and Sabrina fumbled with it for a few minutes before conceding defeat.
“Can you help?” she asked in a small voice.
Q sat in the pile of clothing on the bench and waved her over. Could a person faint from lust? Sabrina stopped in front of her, reddening. By the time Q got to the third buckle up, the soft swell of Sabrina’s breasts became impossible to ignore. She brushed her fingers lightly over the tops of them. Her breath caught in her throat. The nerves in Q’s fingertips felt like they were sizzling with electricity.
Sabrina’s eyes closed and she thrust her chest out in a silent plea for more.
“You don’t act like a straight girl.”
“You don’t make me feel like one,” she breathed, looking down at Q.
“Unhook your bra.”
“What?”
“Do it,” Q commanded. She was often shocked at how easily she could get Sabrina to obey her. This was pushing things. Would she do it?
“Uh...”
“You can’t wear a bra with this shirt. This one’s got a hole in the back and the strap will show.”
“Oh!” Sabrina gave a nervous giggle and turned away, unclasping it and slipping it off through the armholes. She tried to yank the edges of the top together to cover herself before turning back. By holding it in place, she just barely concealed her nipples. “I think it’s too small.”
“No, it’s fine. It just needs to be tied. Let go.”
“But...”
“Now, little girl.”
Sabrina’s fingers slowly let go and the sides of the shirt slid aside of their own accord. The shirt didn’t cover anything important anymore, but held her breasts up like a bustier. She brought her hands up and covered her nipples. “Just buckle it already!”
“No. I want to look at you first. Drop your hands.” If Sabrina did this, there was no more wondering about where things stood between them. Q waited, holding her breath and shifting to ease the seam of her jeans away from her clit.
Sabrina whined and flushed terribly red, but she obeyed.
Oh fuck. Q leaned back against the wall and let her gaze slide over her friend, from her conflicted eyes to her parted lips, and down to the luscious curves of her breasts. Her pretty pink nipples were hard and Q fought not to touch. Yet.
“Are you done now? Help me get this buckled. What do you want to look at me for, anyway? You ogle perfect models all day.” Sabrina’s words came out in a rush, like they were falling over themselves to leave her mouth.
“You’re perfect. And as for the models, if I was into plastic, I’d buy myself a Barbie.”
She grumbled and her brow creased. “Well just take a damn picture already. It’ll last longer.”
“I’d love to take pictures of you. Are you volunteering?” Q felt a little guilty for pushing her – Sabrina did think of herself as straight. This was a big step.
“Can we discuss this some other time? I need to find something for tonight so we can go home and get ready.” And yet, despite her protests she didn’t move.
Interesting.
“Can I touch you, Sabrina?”
A fresh flood of color rushed to her face, but after a pause she nodded, looking at her toes. She bit her pretty bottom lip endearingly.
Q squirmed in her seat, trying not to let on that her control was evaporating. God, she makes me so crazy.
The first touch of Sabrina’s skin was like silk and she barely held back a groan. Part of her brain clamored for her to stop, but she couldn’t will herself to do so. Possessed by her inner hedonist, her hands slid up to cup Sabrina’s breasts. She rubbed her thumbs gently over her nipples.
The hiss of Sabrina’s breath spurred Q on, and the girl thrust forward into her caress. “Please, Q! You’re killing me.”
“Shh! Cross is going to hear you. He’d probably come watch. And such a pretty show he’d get. It’s a shame not to share it.” She rolled both nipples between thumb and fingers.
“No, Q,” she whimpered quietly.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No! Just don’t call your friend in here. I’d die.”
“Okay then…quiet.” Q leaned forward, the light scent of bubblegum on Sabrina’s warm skin making her want more. Even the smell of her was intoxicating.
Her gaze met Sabrina’s as she swept her tongue over the point of her nipple. It tightened, and Q kissed it lightly before sucking it into her mouth. She pressed Sabrina closer with a hand on her lower back, her other hand brushing from just behind her knee, upwards under the PVC schoolgirl skirt. As she sucked, flicking her tongue, Sabrina’s little moans of pleasure encouraged her. Q traced her fingers under the skirt, along the globe of Sabrina’s ass then drew them toward the front of her panties.
A loud knock made them both jump. “Yes?” Q managed to say, hoping she didn’t sound too breathless.
“You two are taking awhile in there. You need a hand?” The bastard was laughing.
Q grinned up at Sabrina who still looked dazed. “Do we need help?”
Sabrina’s eyes focused and she shook her head emphatically.
“No, Cross. We’ll be out in a couple of minutes.” Internally, she swore a blue streak. The interruption was welcome, in a way. She didn’t know if she would have been able to stop without intervention, and Sabrina deserved better than to be with her first girl in a changing room. They were too old for that shit.
“Suit yourself, Q. If you change your mind just holler.”
Sabrina covered her face with her hands. “Let’s just take this and go. Can I wait for you in the car? Take my bank card.”
“It looks like it will fit and it’s hot on you. You okay?” Q stood, drawing her friend into her arms. Sabrina clung to her, which pleased her immensely. She kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll go to the cashier. Here are my keys. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Sabrina changed back into her little white dress so fast Q didn’t get a good look at anything. She bolted out of the fitting room for the car.
As she paid, Q wondered if Sabrina would ever let her touch her again, and hoped to hell she hadn’t just fucked everything up.
Chapter 3
Jude
Jude leaned back in his chair. Fifth row back from the front row of the seats, with the mosh pit swarming in front of him – almost the best place at a Slipknot concert. He’d not dared the mosh pit itself. His father’s words ran through his head whenever he considered it.
Think ahead, Jude. Keep your head on your shoulders, think ahead, and stay safe.
Well. Done that. Thought ahead. A surgeon didn’t need broken fingers from some overweight wrecking ball bouncing off him in the pit. Though… He heaved out a sigh. This would be his last heavy metal concert.
He scrubbed his hands through his hair, feeling the short strands curling over his fingers. His surfer cut had gone too. He hadn’t worn his guitar-playing Fuck-the-Empire Stormtrooper t-shirt in case somebody here decided that made him a pussy. In the future, that and the Dethklok shirt he’d bought in Germany would only see the light if he was mowing the lawn of his picket-fenced mansion.
What about his kink life? Would he have to give that up too? That was one thing he didn’t think he could live without. A quarter of the kinksters at the local BDSM club seemed to be professionals, so maybe not. Tying up women, dominating them – since his early college days, he’d delved further and further into that fascinating world. Though he’d never checked out the BDSM community in Michigan, maybe it would be the same?
He looked down. Plain black buttoned shirt. Boring. Stable. Black and boring like his future. Years of pre-med, then diversion in Europe for a few years to “get his head straight” but now he was cornered. Even since he was a kid, his father had expected him to be a doctor. Planned it, labeled him, squashed him into a mold.
The music pulsed to life, ramming straight into his skull and clearing away all his good, doctor-like thoughts. The crowd screamed. The mosh pit surged inward.
“Fuck.” He stood up, feeling the sheer energy from swearing course through him like a storm tide sweeping a beach clean.
Playing it safe and thinking ahead could wait another day. He edged along to the aisle and jogged down. The strobing lights flashed on something purple ahead of him. A woman? At least she was staying on the edge. Up on the tiptoes of her black boots, she strived to see past a shaggy-haired teenager. She jiggled about, teetering. Her curves invited appraisal, especially where the pert mounds of her ass showed beneath her short skirt, and he admired them as he walked closer. There must be a boyfriend, here, moshing.
Tendrils of her hair curled down to the neckline of the little purple outfit – the back of which was wide open and displayed a delicious amount of skin. The PVC schoolgirl skirt drew his eye to her beautiful legs. Fetish wear – he’d bet his life on it. As he drew closer, aiming to squeeze between her and a six-foot bruiser of a guy, her profile stopped him dead.
He knew that face. The right shade of blond hair too. The name snapped into place in his mind – Sabrina – the smart-mouthed crazy one who liked ghost-hunting. How could he ever forget the two sexy girls who’d invaded his yard a few nights ago?
Fetish wear, though? His mind wandered down that kinky path for a second. But…so what? Some wore it just for fun. Didn’t mean she liked getting tied up and dominated. Unfortunately.
Despite the drowning volume of the heavy music, he heard her scream.
“Q!”
Jude put a hand on her shoulder and saw instantly why she’d screamed. Her friend was down on the floor, arms flopped to the side. A circle of men had formed around her, stopping her from being trampled by others. By the time he got past the big guy, another had dragged her to her feet and propelled her toward him and the screaming, waving Sabrina.
Somehow he ended up taking one arm and supporting Q across the back while Sabrina helped on the other side. Together they made it outside past security on the doors. The sound muted as the doors shut behind them.
“Thanks,” Sabrina panted then she cut short and scanned up and down Jude’s face. “Hey. It’s you!”
“Who?” Q turned to look, trying to wriggle loose from his arm. She seemed steady so reluctantly he let her go and stepped away. “Oh. I know you.” She frowned, clearly trying to think of his name.
He brushed some of her raven black hair from her forehead and couldn’t help noticing the cool flow of it across his fingers. A scratch on her forehead trickled blood down to her cheekbone. But her pretty eyes were focused. Her stance was solid. She blinked at him.
“You don’t seem to have concussion.” Jude lowered his hand, let a bit of the tension ebb away.
More security was approaching as if to check they were okay. The guard raised both eyebrows and spoke into his shoulder mic. When Jude shook his head, he backed off.
He turned back to the girls. “Yeah. It’s me. You trespassed in my yard, remember? You two seem to like trouble. Come on, ghost hunters. Let’s sit down.”
Sabrina peered up at her friend while patting her shoulder. “Hmm. She’s never this quiet. I agree. You should sit down.”
“Look. I’m okay. Someone tripped me and I landed badly. I’m okay.” Q put out her arms as if to push them away. “Both of you. I’m okay. Let’s go back in, Sabrina.”
“No.”
The set tone and stern, if pouting, look from Sabrina seemed to startle Q but she recovered and said indignantly, “Excuse me, miss? I’m not your little –”
He took her arm again. “You’ve got blood on your elbow too. You should at least get cleaned up.” These two had some interesting dynamic going. But now wasn’t the time for figuring it out.
Sabrina smiled and mouthed, thank you, at him.
A few yards away, was the broad row of concrete steps leading down toward the parking lot. He pointed. “Over there.”
Q shut her eyes. “Fine. Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”
The steps were cold even through his jeans but the floodlight above let Jude methodically go over Q to check for wounds. Elbow and forehead grazes were all he could find – the elbow one hard to find under her full-sleeve tattoo. Cybernetic enhancements inked in dark colors extended from the back of her hand up her arm and into her shirtsleeve. He rotated the hand he held to double-check her palm. “Nice tat. Your cyborg parts probably saved you from any real harm. Though,” he looked into Q’s eyes, “you might have injuries, bruising, elsewhere. Under your clothes.”
“Well.” Q pulled her slender hand away. A tingle ran across his fingers as her skin slipped over his. She straightened and seemed to gather her dignity. Her breasts jutted out. “Thanks for your… help, but you’re not looking under my clothes.”
“I never…” He couldn’t help smiling. “I wasn’t saying I would, Q.”
“Idiot.” Sabrina muttered. She leaned across Q. “Jude, you sure she’s not concussed?”
Her sudden yelp and jump and Q’s smug expression said it all. She’d been pinched.
Definitely an interesting relationship.
“Ladies…” He stood and dusted the back of his jeans with his hands. The girls rose to their feet. “I just had a thought. There should be a first aid room. How about we find it and clean off the blood. If you two want to go back in after that, okay, but no more mosh pit.”
“Hey. Stop right there.” Q set her mouth in a line. “If I want to go back, I will.”
“Not if I tell security I think you have a concussion. By the time they figure that out, most of the concert will be over.”
Or he prayed it would. He sure wasn’t letting her go do that again. A mosh pit was no place for a beautiful woman…women. The two of them were enough to tempt him. They both stared back at him as if he’d sprouted horns. Glossy kissable mouths, and these women looked so good as a pair that he could just see them on their knees before him. He shook his head. Damn, if his dick wasn’t thinking of rising to the occasion.
Q stirred. Her forehead creased. “You can’t –”
“Can.” His Dom side was coming out, but hell, he was going to let it. “I don’t actually know for sure you aren’t concussed. You were looking stunned there for a while.” He inhaled, held it. The thought he’d just had was so good. Would they? “Tell you what. I’ll let you come and check my house for ghosts, if you promise to stay out of the mosh pit. Deal?”
“Yes!” Sabrina’s eyes lit up and she let out a squeal. “Deal.”
Her grin made him grin back. “Good.”
Q shook her head. “A Slipknot concert and we’re out here arguing over ghosts.” She sighed and smiled ruefully down at Sabrina. “Fine. For you.”
“Thank you.” Sabrina went up on her toes and kissed Q’s cheek.
The softening of Q’s expression gave Jude pause. So cute.
Maybe they were bi, but that didn’t rule a man out. He could still hope. He let one side of his mouth twist up. Yep. He was sure doing that. If only his hopes weren’t so kinky, and didn’t involve rope and spankings, and the two of them begging permission from him to orgasm, he might have had a chance. As it stood, a snowball in Hell had a better chance.
Copyright Cari Silverwood 2012. All rights reserved. No part of these publications may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.