Page 1 of Midnight Dissonance

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One last time. One final try.

Lexi held her head high as she strutted out of the women’s locker room into the club. She looked damn good in leopard print. Her outfit was a luminescent, see-through halter catsuit that was practically spray painted on. Her long, dark cherry hair was styled in a high ponytail—better for whichever enterprising Dom she wound up with tonight to grab during their scene.

The mood in the Eros Pit most nights was subdued—with the added elements of scenes in progress and muted music.

Tonight’s singles night event was Valentine’s Day themed, and the place was rocking. Bright splashes of red and pink adorned the club. The normally somber space, with dark gray hardwood floors and black-shaded walls displaying erotic art, was spruced up for the event. Great golden chandeliers spilled light throughout the club, giving it the appearance of a gentlemen’s club circa 1890 with its décor. Groupings of black leather Chesterfield sofas were packed with Doms and subs in Valentine’s Day costumes, adding to the festive affair.

Almost every submissive in attendance wore red, from scantily clad women in bra and panty sets to red Lycra bodysuits and everything in between. It’s why she went with the leopard print. Because she would never be a sheep and conform like the masses. Not when she believed she was born to stand out.

Growing up, Lexi tried fitting in and being normal. Doing the things that were expected. All it ever did was make her miserable.

And two years ago, she decided fuck it. Life was too damn short. She resolved to live on her terms and no one else’s. And that meant dressing the way she wanted, working where she wanted, and living how she wanted.

She understood she might be viewed as psychotic, considering she was uber-independent in all areas but one—in the bedroom, she craved submission like others did sugary sweets. She needed to submit and be dominated to feel complete.

But too many Doms allowed the overbearing, daddy-knows-best attitude to spill into normal life. And she couldn’t live beneath someone’s thumb. She’d spent most of her life being told how to act, what to study, and who she should be while her soul shriveled into an unrecognizable lump of coal.

For Lexi, her perfect Dom would respect her independence, would be faithful and loyal, and would tie her up and whip her ass in the bedroom when the mood struck or she needed a slice of pain to feel right as rain.

She doubted he existed.

She wouldn’t be here, except it had been ages since she had gotten the satisfaction she needed in the bedroom. And she had an itch that no amount of masturbating would appease.

Unlike most of the simpering submissives, she held her head high, meeting the gazes of interested Doms she passed on her way to the bar. She spied the Ryan enclave in their private section that was surrounded by available submissives, all trying to snag themselves one of the remaining single Ryan men.

Lexi rolled her eyes.

One would think that the Ryan dicks were gold-plated or something with the way submissives lined up for a chance to scene with them. And only Finn remained single. Then there were the Ryan cousins, who moved to the States a few years ago. Josh, Aiden, and Sean were all rakes.

Lexi understood that by entering her name into the participating submissive pool, there was a slim possibility she could wind up with one of them for the night. If she had to pick one of them, she’d prefer Finn. He was less of a player than his cousins.

She didn’t do players or narcissists. Lexi had experienced enough of those to last a lifetime.

But there were plenty of Doms she hoped to get paired with. She took an empty seat at the bar and surveyed the crowd. Ronan was in attendance and looking particularly hot this evening in black leather pants, shitkicker boots, and nothing else, leaving the solid expanse of his barrel chest with its multitude of tattoos on display. He was a professional rugby player who shaved his dark hair close to the scalp.

Beside him were Gage Walker and Henry Sinclair. Those two scened together. They had served together in the Navy and now ran a security company together. Lexi had never been double-teamed or participated in a ménage, but those two were sexy enough she was game to try.

“Lexi, lass, you’re looking fetching this evening. What can I get for you?” Xavier Campbell, the sexy Scot, leaned his massive frame against the bar with a gregarious grin.

Lexi liked Xavier. The Dom didn’t have an ounce of pretension. And she found it sweet the way he doted upon his wife, Emma. They were so stupidly in love with each other that she had a hard time not being jealous. Because she’d never had a man look at her the way Xavier did his wife—as if the sun rose and set with her.

And as much as she enjoyed her independence, as much as she was making her way in the world on her terms, she ached to have one person in her corner who had her back completely.

But she had learned the hard way never to count on anyone.

“Patron double on the rocks, please, Sir.”

“Now there’s a lass. Coming right up.” He winked, grabbed a glass, and filled her drink. He set the tumbler with the clear tequila in front of her. “Enjoy the evening.”

“Thank you, Sir. Where’s Emma tonight?”

“Ah, she’s at home. She wanted to come, but our wee one is being fussy, and she refused to leave them with the sitter.” Xavier sighed, but there was a wealth of love in his eyes as he spoke of his wife and child.

“I’m surprised you came in.”

“I’m here until the festivities begin, and then I’ll be heading home.”

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