Q stepped in close and pushed her hair back from her face. Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into the touch. Was she so sex-starved?
“Relax, beautiful,” Q said softly. “Just tell me you don’t like it and I’ll stop. Jude too. Okay? We’ll let you go if you tell us to.”
Her awareness centered on the loud beat of her heart, on Q waiting patiently.
She’d liked it in the dressing room alright, when Q had put her mouth on her. This wasn’t any different, was it? Yes. It was. There was the almost stranger at her back, breathing so close she felt the warmth on her neck, in her hair. Tremors ran through her again. He gripped her arms so tightly.
She could always wiggle free, stomp on Jude’s foot, kick Q in the –
What the hell was she thinking? Kick Q? She’d never in a million years hurt that girl. And now she was rambling in her head like a lunatic.
They’ll let me go if I say. She clung to that thought as Q lowered her lips to hers.
“God forgive me,” Sabrina whispered. Their lips touched.
Gentle. Giving. Cinnamon. Q tasted spicy like cinnamon. And familiar, though they’d never kissed. Soft lips pressed against hers, before they lifted away to press in again. Sabrina returned the kiss eagerly, and took some flesh, liking the feel of Q’s bottom lip between her teeth.
When she nipped harder, Q pulled back and gave her a stern glare. “Behave, little girl.”
Then she grabbed Sabrina’s hair and held her place while she did exactly what she wished to Sabrina’s mouth. There was no timidity now. Just a woman on a mission to prove exactly what kissing a girl was like.
Sabrina groaned quietly, inhaling the warmth of Q’s breaths, dissolving into mush. Q kept on kissing and biting and licking. Between her legs turned liquid and hot. She squirmed and wanted so much to arch forward and grind herself on something…on someone.
The tug and small twinges at her scalp, the lack of freedom, the sheer control of her body by theirs, and the kissing that went on forever – she succumbed, and all her resistance fell away.
At last, slowly, eyes bright with passion, Q pulled away. Sabrina whispered breathlessly, “I’m so going to hell.”
Q chuckled and loosened her fingers in Sabrina’s hair. “Poor girl.” Then she pressed more kisses in a soft trail down Sabrina’s neck.
Goose bumps rose on her arms. The kisses crossed the vulnerable part of her throat and she gulped as a tide of arousal tingled to her breasts and southward. At the spot between her shoulder and neck, Q bit. Her teeth hung on for a long second, marking her. Sabrina yelped and squirmed against Jude.
His grip hardened. “I think she likes it,” he said, amusement coloring his voice.
Q ignored him, seemingly lost in her own world of nibbles and licks. When her lips grazed behind Sabrina’s ear, her breath tickled. Sabrina giggled and arched her back. Her breasts pressed against Q’s, shocking her into a sharp awareness of what they did.
“That’s enough,” Jude said in a quiet rasp.
After the slightest hesitation, Q stopped. Her face was as flushed as Sabrina’s must be. “Okay,” she croaked. Her tongue curled across her lips one last time as if she were remembering Sabrina’s taste.
Now look who’s breathless. Sabrina twisted her lips in a crooked smile, pleased at the power she had over her friend.
Q returned the smirk as if reading her thoughts then she studied Sabrina. “Yes. Her wanting more is a good place to leave her.”
Leave me? No! She rubbed her thighs together, trying to ease the pressure between them. Q watched her, looking like a cat that had a wriggling mouse before it. A whimper escaped Sabrina.
“Impatient thing,” Q teased.
Jude uncuffed her, and let her step away.
Blindly, she found the wall with one hand and leaned her shoulder into it. Her thoughts spun like a whirlpool. Wanting reassurance, she eyed her friend, but going to Q for comfort right now was a bad idea. What just happened? Wasn’t this wrong in some way? Two women, one man. If Jude hadn’t said to let her go, what would she have let Q do to her?
For a millisecond, she shut her eyes. Had they all gone crazy? But then, this was something he’d done before. Q also, maybe. She’d have to remember to ask her later.
Jude looked a little shaken, himself. He let out a long breath then simply stood, watching them. He still held the cuffs. The leather ties of the cuffs trailed down and almost reached the floor.
What the hell were they supposed to do now? Her heart thudded through ten or twenty beats.
Unable to take the silence, she blurted, “Well, I guess there’s no ghosts in the Closet O’Kink.”
A few seconds later Q chuckled.
“That’s a damn shame.” Jude broke out a grin. “I thought for sure if I had ghosts, they’d be kinky ones.”
Chapter 5
Q
The line in front of Q had stalled, and she wondered if she’d manage to get coffee before her break ended. She fiddled with her money, folded it, and stuffed it in her pocket. Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her back pocket and checked the message.
Coming home for supper? I’m cooking. Remember, real food equals big strong muscles. ;)
She rolled her eyes, imagining Sabrina’s sarcastic tone. A warm feeling started in her chest. If it was just lust it wouldn’t be so bad. But this was worse. Unrequited love was pathetic. She pressed her lips together. Well, even if she never got anywhere with the girl, at least she wouldn’t die from malnutrition.
Q confirmed then shoved her phone back in her pocket and sighed. She considered going to the cafe down the street with their over-priced designer beverages.
“Bad day?” drawled a deep voice behind her. Sexy... and so close to her ear it made her shiver.
Q turned her head, her gaze meeting a broad t-shirt covered chest. She looked up into Jude’s amused blue eyes. Fuck, he’s hot. Okay, Q, don’t be a dork.
“Oh... Hey, Jude.” She winced. Real smooth, girl. “Sorry. And sorry for Sabrina teasing you about your name the other day, too.”
He chuckled. “At least you didn’t do it on purpose. That joke was already old by the time I turned three.”
“I can imagine.” She did her best to remember that big, blond and muscular wasn’t her type. But her libido had other ideas, like him shoving her face down on a table and using her. She so needed to get laid. After the only six-month dry spell of her adult life she was getting a little crazy. When things had gone sour with Nico, taking a break had seemed like a good idea. She wasn’t a slut by any stretch of the imagination, but sometimes she felt like an adolescent boy. Everything reminded her of sex – from the cream-filled éclairs to the barista’s name, Virginia. Instead of seeing the world through rose-colored glasses, she wore sex goggles.
“With a name like Q, I’m sure you can imagine. What’s Q really short for? Queenie?”
She grimaced. “Sorry. I’d tell you but then I’d have to erase your memory. We’d have to spoon feed you so you didn’t starve to death. I just don’t want that on my conscience.” The line moved and they shuffled forward – sideways for Q.
“So, how would you erase my memory?” His sexy grin derailed her for a moment.
Fuck him until he couldn’t remember his name? Nah, not subtle enough. “Shake you and hope your brain Etch-a-Sketches.”
He laughed, flashing even white teeth. “You on a lunch break?”
“More or less. The models I work with don’t eat lunch, so I tell them they need to relax so their expressions look more natural. That way I can grab a decent coffee, at least.”
“That’s a nefarious plan.”
He was so close she could feel his body heat, smell him. Again, she imagined him holding her down and almost whimpered. “I’ve had worse.”
“There are models around here? I would have figured they’d move to New York City.” He ran a hand through his short blond hair and her fingers itched to do the same.
“There are a
few. The ones I’m working with today are girls from the college looking for extra money. I’m doing a shoot for the new wedding boutique downtown. Lots of white.”
“Are you running back now or do you have time to hang out?”
She contemplated calling in sick for the month. “That’s the beautiful thing about being the photographer. They have to wait for me. Sneakiest coffee date ever, by the way.”
“I’m an opportunist. It’s a gift.”
Q laughed just as she reached the counter. Jude ordered with her and insisted on paying. He grabbed a booth near the window.
“So did Sabrina freak out after you guys left the other day?”
“Not where I could see. She got a bit quiet for a couple of days, but she bounced back fast after that. We might have blown her mind a little... and mine. Every time I think of it I’m in danger of spontaneous combustion.”
He choked on his coffee.
Q grinned mischievously and handed him a napkin. “Swallow, it makes less of a mess.”
Jude shook with mirth. “You’re bad.”
“Yes,” she admitted. “No one’s managed to teach me any manners.”
He eyed the silver chain around her neck and the pendant she generally kept tucked into her shirt. Q reached up and toyed with the trefoil, a little embarrassed by it when sitting with someone who knew what it was. The BDSM symbol wasn’t recognized by most people. It wasn’t her public collar, though. Nico had taken that back when he’d chosen Isabelle over her. She always wondered if he’d given the necklace to his new submissive – and that made her more upset than the rest of it.
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right person. You seem pretty cozy with Sabrina – but as lovely as that is, I don’t foresee her teaching you to behave.” He smirked.
“We’ve been close for a few years, but we’ve only been roommates for six months. I wish we were cozier, but I’m not sure we’re going there. She keeps telling me she’s straight.” Frustration crept into her voice, unbidden.
“You two looked pretty into each other when I was there. It was...” He looked enthusiastic but gestured vaguely, like he didn’t have words to describe his thoughts.
Q realized that he’d barely taken a sip of his coffee since she’d made him choke on it. He’d ordered it black. Nasty. “I wanted to do a lot more, trust me. But thanks for stopping me when you did. I have trouble being rational where she’s concerned.”
She recalled the longing on Sabrina’s face after she’d stopped the kiss. How could Sabrina think she was straight when she reacted like that? Q sighed, already knowing the answer. It was her family’s expected reaction that held her back. Sabrina’s mom and aunts had verbally crucified her cousin – right in front of Q – when he came out of the closet a few years ago.
“I don’t know if I could have handled much more. I almost imploded, as it was.” His exaggeratedly pained face made Q snort. “It’s more than lust for you, though, isn’t it?”
Q was impressed he’d noticed that in the short time he’d been around them. She got the feeling this would’ve come out eventually, but baring her soul to a virtual stranger was still difficult. “Yes, I’m in love with her. She knows I love her as a friend, but she’s not ready to hear it’s more serious than that and I don’t want to mess up our friendship if she doesn’t feel the same way, you know?”
He nodded and smiled kindly. “I won’t tell her.” Jude took a drink of his coffee, then set the cup down and eyed her a moment. “Quincy?”
“Don’t I wish. My name was my mother’s maiden name. Family reunions would be a blast if I had that kind of family,” she grimaced. “You’ll never drag it out of me.”
“Not close to your extended family?”
“No. My parents were victims of a drive-by when I was twelve. Wrong place at the wrong time.” She fiddled with her cup.
“I’m sorry, Q. That’s awful.” He was trying to make eye contact, but she looked out the window instead.
She shrugged. It wasn’t time for that. Nothing like being a downer on a first date. “It was a long time ago. Anyway, my older brothers raised me. They ran off all of our meddling aunties, so there aren’t any family reunions for us.” She shrugged. “It was fine by me. The last thing I would have wanted is lectures on the dangers of premarital sex.”
“Your brothers didn’t sit you down for that chat themselves?” he chuckled.
“Um, no. Not unless you’re counting the times I borrowed their porn.” Did she really just tell him that? Ugh. At least he looked amused. Maybe he thought she was joking.
“So… what methods have failed to teach you manners?”
She was relieved by the change in subject, but had no plans to give him ammunition. “Hmmm. Most. Brats are notoriously hard to teach.” Q took a sip of her coffee, but watched him closely. Time to see if this one was up to the challenge or if he’d bolt.
His face lit up. “I have a soft spot for brats. So you’re a brat switch?”
“Yes,” she said, surprised. “A brat switch. A veritable social pariah in the fet world. You don’t have a hate-on for girls like me?”
“Not a hate-on, no.” He winked and Q got caught in the wave of a full on, hot-faced blush.
There was an awkward silence as she floundered for something to say that wasn’t tie me up and make me your bitch. He smirked and waited, like toying with her was amusing. It made her submissive side go straight into overdrive.
She dropped her gaze and waited.
“I haven’t seen you at the club before. I would have remembered you.”
Q smiled at the thinly-veiled flattery. “I think I know pretty much everyone, except maybe some of the newer people. Small city with only one club.”
“Do you know Fredrick? He’s my landlord. He introduced me to a few Doms. One guy, Cross, is going to help with renovations. I think he owns a store downtown. Good guy.”
“Yes. I was just at Cross’s shop with Sabrina the other day. That’s where we got the outfit she wore to the concert. I know Fred too. Do you know Ivy?” She’d forgotten how much she missed the club until he brought it up.
“I’ve met her. Nice girl.” His eyes were warm, but it didn’t look like Ivy had caught his fancy. “You haven’t been going lately though. How come?”
“I’ve been avoiding someone,” she hedged.
“A Dom?”
She nodded and drew a long breath while she chose her words carefully. “Yes. I’ve only had one. We broke up about six months ago. It was messy.” In the he-ripped-out-my-heart-and-kicked-the-shit-out-of-it sense. She wasn’t about to tell him that though. “He left me for a 24/7 service slave. I’m not into that level of submission. We were supposed to go to the concert together anyway, as friends, but he backed out at the last minute.”
“Would it have been awkward to go with him?”
“Yeah.” Especially since they might have run into Jude.
“So have you been into Slipknot for long? In my experience hot girls usually only go to concerts like that because of their boyfriends.”
“Oh no! He’s cute but sexist. What’s a girl to do?” She batted her lashes sarcastically.
“I’m cute?”
“I’m sure you own a mirror, sunshine. As for Slipknot, I’ve been into them for about seven years. Their music is... it makes me want to...” She paused, weighing her options. She decided on the truth, even though it might make her seem crazy, sex-obsessed, or both. “You know how some music’s described as the singer making love to you with his voice? The music I like is more like a good hard fuck.”
Jude slapped a hand over his mouth like he was struggling not to spit out his mouthful of coffee. He finally managed to get it down then gave her an incredulous look. “You really don’t mince words, do you?”
“Sorry. I swear a lot. It can be a bit shocking, I guess. I wanted you to understand that I don’t just go for the mosh pits.” It wasn’t the first time Q wished that she was a little less crude, but better he got
used to it now if this was going anywhere.
“Maybe not, but you seemed to be fighting pretty hard to go back in. What’s the attraction?” He looked honestly interested.
“You’ve never been in a pit, have you?” Statement rather than question. If he had to ask, the answer was obvious. “The energy, the violence...what’s not to like?”
“I’ve been in my fair share. But you…you’re built like a little bird. Getting an elbow to the face, getting trampled. Those possibilities alone should be reason enough for you to stay out.”
Q refused to rise to his baiting. She took a last drink of her coffee and sat back. “I can take more abuse than you seem to think. I like pain, and you don’t get trampled if you stay on your feet. Besides, what’s life without adrenaline?”
“I get most of my adrenaline from other sources.”
“Like?”
“Torturing willing young damsels.”
Q grinned saucily and leaned forward on her elbows – enough to give him an eyeful of cleavage. His gaze obligingly fell in. “You’d be out of luck with me then,” she said huskily. “I don’t play a very good damsel in distress.”
“A challenge, huh? I like that.”
She shook her long bangs down across one eye and inspected him like a piece of meat. “Oh, I’d have you lying down and taking it like a man in no time. I don’t think you could dominate me. You’re nowhere near mean enough.”
“And I have no doubt I could teach you some manners.”
Q arched a brow, trying to look blasé even though her pulse raced. Her gaze fell to his biceps, and she caught herself about to lick her lips. Despite her words, she was sure he could make her do all sorts of things. She shivered. “Be careful. I might hold you to your word.”
“You should be careful. I’d be the one holding your leash.”
“Isn’t it a little early to be talking collars, sunshine?”
“If we played together, you’d wear what I told you to.”
She bit her bottom lip and gave him a naughty look. “If we decided to look into this idea more seriously, how would you feel about Sabrina joining us? Do you think you could handle two?”
The Dom with a Safeword Page 5