The Dom on the Naughty List (Badass Brats #2) Read online

  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.”

  The Dom with the Perfect Brats

  Badass Brats #3

  Releasing Early Spring 2013

  Chapter 1 Sample

  The Ink Haven didn’t look like much from the outside. The half-painted brick exterior and dark tinted windows weren’t exactly inviting. But the fresh spring air meant all the shops on the strip had opened their doors. Gemma snuck a glance inside. Red tile, a front counter then three curtained sections behind it. The plush interior didn’t match the shabby outside.

  Heavy metal blasted from the gothic clothing shop next door, drowning out the classical music in the upscale salon on the other side. The small tattoo shop sat nestled between the two. She chuckled. It looked a little like that game, Which one of these things is not like the other?

  She tightened her grip on her satchel, took a deep breath and walked inside. Immediately, the familiar scent of A&D ointment hit her. Every tattoo shop smelled the same. It made her feel warm inside. So did the soft buzzing of a gun behind one of the curtains.

  A guy with a baby face under a baseball cap greeted her from behind the desk. “You looking to get a tattoo, gorgeous?” Leisurely, he ran his gaze over her body.

  Oh she’d just bet he’d like to tattoo her. “No, thanks,” she answered with a smile. Maybe she should pretend to be a tattoo virgin, just for fun. She used to do that to size up the competition back in Chicago. That game never lasted long. Once her t-shirt shifted up her arm a bit, her half-sleeve showed. But she wasn’t here to play games anyway.

  She pushed back her bangs and straightened her spine. “I heard you were looking for a new artist. I’m here to apply.”

  The guy at the counter raised his brows and gave her another once-over. She was used to being judged based on her gender - at least in the tattoo world. In the real world, she was used to being judged based on her tattoos. Couldn’t win either way. Though there were plenty of female tattoo artists, there were at least three times more males. She’d have to fight to get where she wanted.

  “Malachi!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Someone’s here about a job.”

  An attractive man with dark hair and a goatee appeared from a room in the back and made his way to the front desk, followed by a bald, tattooed giant. Though not much taller than the other men, he seemed to take up the whole room with an aura of masculine confidence. But her gaze was drawn to his face - clean shaven, almond-shaped eyes, perfect nose and lips…he was gorgeous.

  The first one, she guessed Malachi, glanced around the front of the shop, skipping over Gemma. When he realized she was the only one there, he finally said, “Who, her?”

  She almost rolled her eyes. “Yes, me.”

  “Hm.” He searched her face with big baby blues. The guy with the baseball hat smiled, revealing a charming set of dimples. Was this a hot guy factory? Did they make one in every shape and color?

  “Never had a girl apply,” Malachi said. “What’s your name?”

  “Gemma Stone.” He quirked a brow and she sighed. “Don’t ask.” Her parents, though eccentric, were well-meaning. They tried so hard to be cool and failed so miserably. At least they accepted her career and always supported her.

  “Do you have a profile?” he asked.

  “Of course.” She shifted her satchel to the front and took out the photo album. “These are ones I’ve done in the last six months or so.” She handed it to Malachi.

  The guy at the counter browsed a tattoo magazine. The hottie behind Malachi watched with a bored expression as Malachi flipped through the pages. She fought the urge to fidget nervously. Show no signs of weakness. Big ego, no shame. That was how she’d made her way into the industry and it was how she planned on getting this job.

  “That’s some nice work,” Malachi said, handing the album back. “If it’s yours.”

  She tucked it back in her bag. “It is.”

  He looked her over. “You’re not tatted up, considering you’re an artist.”

  “Maybe I am and they’re just in places you can’t see.” She smirked and placed a hand on her hip.

  Malachi grinned. If he had any sense of humor at all, she could work for him. It’d been sad leaving her last shop, but staying there after... She swallowed back the bite of pain and anger. It was time for a fresh start. This wasn’t exactly home, but it was a tattoo shop. It could be her home. If they accepted her.

  “Alright, Gemma Stone, let’s see what you’ve got. Can you do one today?”

  “Of course.” She pulled the satchel over her head and set it down on a nearby chair. Malachi and the baseball hat guy watched her curiously as she stretched her wrists and arms. She’d just spent eight hours lugging boxes to her new shared apartment. Unless her victim wanted a wonky, stiff tattoo, she needed to loosen up a little.

  Malachi turned to the guy behind him, who looked like he was silently dying of boredom. “Cross, you up for a new tattoo?”

  Finally, his face came to life. Like the others, he looked her over. “By her?”

  Anyone else would’ve been offended, but she couldn’t even count the number of times she’d been through this song and dance.

  “Her portfolio is pretty good, man,” Malachi said. “And if the tattoo sucks, I’ll cover it on the house.”

  “Your confidence in me is astounding,” she muttered.

  Cross let out a long sigh and shifted his stance. “Alright. I’m willing to see a drawing at least.”

  “Great! Any ideas for what you want?”

  “You’re gonna do it now?” He looked at Malachi then back at her.

  “Sure. I’ll need a few minutes to sketch though, depending on what you want.” She dug through her satchel for paper and her favorite sketching pencil. “Where can I sit?”

  Malachi stroked his goatee as he assessed her. “You’re young. How long you been doing this?”

  She bit her lip and thought for a moment, then decided on the truth. “Officially five years. Unofficially since my sophomore year of high school.”

  He chuckled then looked at baseball hat guy. “Here that, Jake? She’s been tattooing longer than you.”

  Jake shrugged. “Doesn’t mean she any good.”

  True. And t
hat was why she had to prove herself. She looked at Cross. “Any ideas or do you want me to make something up?”

  He crossed his arms and smirked. “I’ll pick something. I’m not giving you free reign on my body and ending up with a pink butterfly somewhere.”

  Ugh. She so hated stereotypes. And butterflies. “I can do a beautiful pink butterfly but I’d prefer to do something cool like a dragon or a phoenix. I can rock Chinese art but I’m wicked at horror pieces.”

  Cross thought for a moment then looked over his body. He didn’t have much room to spare. One leg was covered in an assortment of traditional American style tattoos. The other had an abstract circle design on his knee cap. One arm looked like a full sleeve, the other a half. She’d bet under that gray t-shirt, she had a few on his chest. Maybe a rib piece.

  “How about a gargoyle on the back of my calf,” he finally said.

  A gargoyle. She’d never done one. Didn’t mean she couldn’t though. “You got it. Give me half an hour. That okay?”

  “Sure.” He cracked a smile and turned to Malachi. “Maybe I should get a little fuzzy at the bar first so I forget about whatever cluster fuck I got myself into.”

  Smartass. “If it’ll calm your nerves, go for it. Just make sure you eat something. I don’t want you passing out on me. That wouldn’t look good.”

  His brows shot up. “Do I look like the type who passes out during a tattoo?”

  She made a show of looking him over. By his expression, he didn’t like being scrutinized. Too damn bad. Sometimes turning the tables was the only way to deal with guys like him. “Yes, you do. I’ve learned the guys that look the toughest are usually the biggest babies.”

  He growled.

  Her stomach thunked. Holy shit. That was the sexiest thing she’d heard in a long time. Despite her self-confidence and easy way around guys, she did like a man in charge. And Cross…he looked like a man who always got his way. She fought back a shudder.

  He took at step toward her. “I have over half my body inked, girl. I think I’ll be fine.”

  Just because she thought it would bug him, and to show he couldn’t intimidate her, she grinned. “I’ll be gentle just in case.” Before he could respond, she spun and grabbed her bag. “I’m gonna go draw. See you in a bit!”