Page 27 of Midnight Dissonance

“Because I didn’t want to be another notch on your bedpost.”

He snorted. “I’d have to bring them home to add that notch now, wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t get pedantic. Whether it happened here or at the club is a rather moot point. Because the point was you’ve not been circumspect with women.”

“Yeah, but you want to know now if I’ve brought any women home with me, from the club or otherwise?”

She did. She hated herself for it, but god, did she ever want to know. Far too curious about him for her own good. “Yes.”

“You would be the first. My home is only for me and those I want in it.”

“But you’ve been coming to the club for almost two years now. Almost as long as I’ve been a member.”

“Aye, I have. But this is my home. I only allow the people I want inside.”

“Then I can drop you off at the door and get an Uber.”

“Nonsense. Besides, you promised me a grand grilled cheese. And I’m famished. I don’t remember when I’ve been this fecking hungry.” He tugged her off the elevator and down the hall to the door at the end.

It took him a minute to open the door. But then he hauled her inside, slamming the door shut and locking it before she could say anything.

“Oh wow!” she exclaimed, walking toward the massive bank of windows.

“Ain’t it a beauty? It’s why I had to live here. It’s even better in the daylight.”

Josh was in the penthouse, because he’s a Ryan, and they have more money than god. And there were multiple stories with a west-facing wall in the living room that was all glass. It provided a clear view of the front range.

Even in the dead of night, they were spectacular. “It’s amazing. I can see why you love it so much.”

“I do. The kitchen is over here.” He left her near the window and trod toward a state-of-the-art kitchen.

She set her guitar by the sectional couch in cool gray with deep seats and then followed him into the kitchen. Her feet padded over hardwood floors. Now that she was fully in his space, she worried he might think she was here to go to bed with him. When that wasn’t the case at all.

Well, mostly.

And if he made a move, she didn’t know if she could resist him. Not with all the smiles and innuendos—and hell, she liked him.

She moved into his kitchen with its clean lines and huge kitchen island. The cabinetry and counters were all ivory, making the kitchen feel bright and warm. “Where are your pans, bread, butter, and cheese?”

The next few minutes were spent rifling through his kitchen. She found all the fixings for grilled cheese. She was sautéing up some onion for the grilled cheese when she asked. “So I’m the first woman you aren’t related to who has been here?”

“Yes.” He sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and watched her work.

“Why? I don’t mean that in a bitchy way. But you’re an attractive man. Why would someone like you not have a woman up here?”

“Because I haven’t. For me, bringing a woman home signifies the start of a relationship. And none of the women I’ve met at the club, while lovely submissives, have made me want to bring them home.”

She glanced up from buttering the bread slices. “But I’m here now.”

“Aye.”

“Does that mean you want a relationship with me?” Her heart shivered at the implications. Did she want a relationship with him?

“It depends.”

“On?” she asked, too invested to back away from the conversation. It didn’t matter that he might still be high. He was being more honest than any man she’d dated, and it was a heady experience.

“Whether you’ll play something just for me.” He indicated her guitar with a side nod toward the couch.

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