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This thing between them wasn’t something he was ready to give up just yet.
Sawyer pushed off the lockers with a grin. “Why don’t you run it by Dmitri and see if he’ll let you bring her by?”
Kyler was aware he’d need Dmitri’s permission to bring Ella into Club Sin, especially considering he doubted she would jump right in, sign the agreement, and allow him to play with her in front of others. “I could, but I need to have that conversation with her.” He placed his other boot on the bench and laced it up. “I think a first date should happen before I shock the shit out of her.”
Sawyer laughed. “Have fun tonight. I should be in the club around ten o’clock.” He smacked Kyler’s back. “Knowing you, I’ll see you there later.”
Kyler froze with the laces pinched between his fingers. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
Sawyer raised his brows. “Patience does not exist in your personality.” He turned, heading out of the locker room, and his loud laughter followed him.
Snorting, Kyler finished lacing up his boot. True, he had never been patient with Club Sin submissives. That’s what made Ella such an appealing challenge. Teaching her would be like reintroducing himself to BDSM—and he’d get to do it with her, through her eyes, all over again. It allowed for freshness, which had been lacking in his life.
Could he get her to submit?
He didn’t know, and that made his muscles quiver. He liked the challenge Ella represented. Christ, he simply liked her.
A smile crossed his face as he reached for his car keys along with his duffel bag on the bench, and then he strode through the musky locker room. Once out in the light blue painted hallway, he passed by the Drug Unit and the Homicide Squad, when someone called his name.
Glancing to his left, he discovered his father in his office. Chief of Police Andrew Morgan looked stern and proud sitting behind his desk. His father waved at Kyler as he chatted with someone on the phone.
He entered the spacious office and his father gestured for him to shut the door. He complied and dropped down into the chair in front of his father’s light oak desk, which was completely covered with case files. Stretching his legs out, he stared at his father barking commands into the telephone.
Amused by his dad’s gravelly voice, Kyler knew his father was a force to be reckoned with. Andrew held this station together through all the ups and downs, and Kyler was proud to be his son. As the dad of four young boys, his father had always attended sports games—he’d been the dad wrestling with his sons on the lawn. As the father of grown men, he was still a man Kyler could respect and was one of the best men he’d ever known.
When his dad finally hung up the phone, he remarked, “Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall.” The frustration faded from his face, replacing itself with a smile that softened his blue eyes. “How was your shift, son?”
“Good.” Kyler laced his fingers behind his head. “Dealt with one woman who was beaten to a bloody pulp, but other than that, the shift went smoothly.” He never understood, no matter how much he tried, why women stayed with their abusers. He’d been called to the same location at least three times.
Of course, he understood there were mental and emotional connections there for the victim, but if it were his sister, he would tie her ass to a chair until a therapist broke that connection. As a Dom, it solidified his intent to protect women. Especially those dealing with complete assholes for husbands.
As a cop, he could do only what the law allowed him.
“Glad to hear it.” Andrew leaned back in this chair, sending it to squeak beneath him. “A detective position is coming up. You’ve been on the force now for almost ten years—should I request that you be slotted for the test?”
Kyler knew the politics of the game. He’d pass the test, of course, but he’d get the job simply because he was Andrew’s son. That’s why Kyler had never applied for a detective position. He didn’t want a handout. “Nah, I’ll pass.”
His father frowned. “You need to keep moving up, son, or you’re going to become stagnant.”
The subject had been a sore spot between them for years. His brothers, who were also cops, except the lone one who’d shirked tradition and become a firefighter, had moved rapidly up the chain of command. But Kyler was content. “I prefer dealing with living people, as you know.”
Andrew’s eyebrows drew together before he heaved a sigh. “All right, it’s your choice.”
Kyler inclined his head, thankful his father gave in. Before, when this subject had come up, the argument had become heated. He didn’t want to deal with only death and the evil that came with it. While he liked the idea of saving lives, he preferred saving the living.
Being a cop was personal. Everyone had their reasons for doing the job, and those reasons were Kyler’s. Besides, he held the role of supervisor, and Kyler always thought he’d work his way up the chain of command that way, or apply for some other role that didn’t involve murders. But he’d do it on his own terms, not his father’s.
All the tension faded from his father’s gaze as he added, “Mom wants to have you boys over for a dinner. She’s already talked to your brothers, and everyone is free not this Thursday but the following one. Does that work for you?”
“Of course.” Even if Kyler had plans, he’d break them. It was harder to get everyone together with his brothers starting families and busy with their lives. And his mother made a killer roast beef, which was her typical meal when they all got together.
With an awkward smile and raking his hand through his salt-and-pepper-colored hair, his father asked, “Will you be bringing anyone with you?”
Kyler snorted.
Judging by his father’s level of discomfort, Kyler assumed his mother had forced his dad to ask that question to dig into Kyler’s personal life. A year ago, Kyler had put a dead stop to her endless questions about his love life. It became too complicated to offer excuses to avoid the fact that the real reason he wasn’t dating was because he was playing with submissives in the dungeon. Every once in a while a question would come like this in a nonchalant way. “Possibly.”
His father’s thick eyebrows rose. “Possibly?”
