Page 2 of The Dom with a Safeword

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.