Page 63 of The Dom with a Safeword

Her whine and incredulous look made both he and Q laugh.

“You won’t have to crop me, Sir. But you may have to crop our toy when she comes.”

“Oh shit! Not protesting, Sir, but…fuck.” As Q reached beneath and pinched her nipple, Sabrina gasped. He pumped into her harder. “Ohh…” She writhed a bit, moaned, and slumped on her elbows, but to her credit stayed at the laptop. He pulled his fingers out and found her clit. Circling around and around on top of it rewarded him with a shudder from Sabrina.

Even so, she said huskily, “Look! Told you. Ummm. Told you. Oh god.” She collapsed entirely onto the bed with her head in her arms.

“Up!” Q bit her shoulder. “How can I play with your nipples if you lie…Oh my!”

The change in Q’s voice made him look at the screen. What the hell was that? He stared.

“See?” Sabrina whispered. “A ghost. I told you both.”

The pale white face of a woman peered out of the laptop screen. Through her misty shape, beyond her, he recognized the dining table. Fuck. He stared at Sabrina.

“See?”

“Fuck.” Q leaned in closer, her hand planted on Sabrina’s back. “What is that?”

Either someone was playing a joke, or…he had ghosts.

“CGI,” he muttered. “Must be.”

“CGI, my ass,” Sabrina said.

“Hmm.” He gave that ass a slap. “We’ll sort this out later. Turn over so Q and I can get at your body properly. And do not come. Keep your hands above your head and stay still.”

Though her eyes were wide, she did as he asked. He sat up on his heels and observed her. Already her nipples were tight little buttons and her mouth was parted. “Now. Where will I start?”

Sabrina whimpered.

***

For all his misgivings, the photo looked to be that of a ghost. From where he sat on the stool at the kitchen bench, the sun bounced in through the window and off the screen and made everything damn glary. Jude took another bite of the French toast and stared at the laptop screen.

“See!” Sabrina put her hand to his shoulder and leaned in to poke at the screen.

He caught her hand. “No. No, strawberry jelly flavored fingers on my laptop, thank you.” His father’s favorite saying came to mind. “If you hear hoof beats, think horses not zebras.”

On the other side of this island bench, with a fork halfway to her mouth, Q paused. “What the fuck? Zebras?”

“It’s a medical aphorism. A saying. It means that common things happen commonly. That is, don’t think up weird reasons for things to happen.”

“Uh-huh.” She lowered the fork, and frowned. “Meaning what, exactly, in this case?”

Good question. The photo Sabrina had taken looked like a ghost. How could anyone have fiddled with it if she took it last night? He glanced at her eager face. “Would Jersey Girl here do some sneaky switch with a photo just to scare us?”

“No.” Q’s answer was matter-of-fact, and Sabrina looked miffed.

“Good. Then, I guess I mean that if it looks like a ghost, maybe it is one?”

“See?” Sabrina crowed. “Knew it! Yes!” As if he’d delivered the Ten Commandments on a tablet, to her doorstep, Sabrina did a war whoop.

Not smiling was impossible. Crazy woman. “Why are you so happy? I thought that ghost last night scared the hell out of you?”

She leaned an elbow on the counter next to Q, and seemed to ponder his question while stealing bits of Q’s food. “It did. It was fucking scary. But…” A grin spread across her face and she locked her gaze on him. “I got a real photo! You don’t understand. That’s every ghost hunter’s dream!”

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” Q volunteered.