Miranda's Rights Read online

  Jase flipped open his cell phone and placed a call. “Hey, it’s Ralston. I need a favor.”

  “No, hello Steve. No, hey how have you been.” Steve King had a way with research. If he could be hardwired into the mainframe, he would be. Metro’s finest cyber guru.

  Jase chuckled. “I’ve been a bit distracted. Which brings me to the purpose for my call. I need a rundown on a private club. What can you tell me about Club Creed?” He relayed the address of the club.

  Steve whistled long and low. “What in the hell are you doing at a fetish club?”

  “Fetish club?”

  “Oh yeah.” Steve blew out a breath. “High class. Looks like there was an investigation a few months ago, but charges were never filed. This isn’t a club you’d find on the tour guide of top ten hottest clubs to visit in Vegas. We’re not talking average kink. Leather, collars, whips and chains.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Jase, what are you working on?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” Actually, he was positive what he wanted to work on. She was in the club, and in a moment he would be as well.

  “If you don’t want to lose your badge, play this one close to the bone,” Steve whispered. “Don’t—do not—go in there without a warrant. You’re going to need a helluva lot more than probable cause on this one.”

  Jase kept his eyes locked on the parking garage, waiting for Miranda to enter the club. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because the file was closed per the Chief’s instruction.”

  “Don’t worry. This is personal. Thanks.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Always.”

  Steve gave a snort as Jase flipped the phone closed.

  What was keeping Miranda? She should’ve been able to park and enter the club if that was where she was heading. A fetish club? Too many thoughts ricocheted around in his head. Was this her idea or her boyfriend’s? And what was she into? There were levels in the BDSM world. He’d seen the marks. A Dom who understood his role wouldn’t have hurt her…unless that was what she wanted.

  Maybe she understood more about herself than he’d thought…maybe he needed to learn more about himself. He’d been so set on protecting her from abusive men that he hadn’t been willing to give her what she needed. Jase had only offered her the overprotective cop. Why would she consider him when she needed a Dom?

  A wave of uncertainty rolled over him. He and Miranda were good friends, yet neither trusted the other with their secret. He hadn’t wanted to scare her with his darker needs. If she were into pain, he could see why she wouldn’t trust anyone outside of her club—a sub’s sanctuary if she didn’t live the lifestyle openly.

  At least now he understood her bruises. He didn’t like it, didn’t want to think of someone losing control. If she was a sub, she deserved better. He recalled the conversation in his apartment. The more he rolled over the events of the last few months, the better the pieces fit. Miranda was looking for something to fulfill her submissive needs.

  Time to find out what she was into…and to whom she belonged. Because as far as he was concerned, she already belonged to him. He just had to claim her.

  Jase slid from his vehicle, locked the door and strode across the street. Adrenaline coursed through his system. The high of police work. Intoxicating, authoritative, dominating. He enjoyed the surge of power that came from his position.

  A man about fifty years old with a stern smile and scrutinizing glare stepped from the parking attendant booth. “Can I help you?”

  Jase flipped his badge. “Is this parking for the exclusive use of Club Creed?”

  The man glanced at Jase’s badge and nodded. “There’s a private entrance in back. Some members would prefer not to be seen from the street.”

  Understandable, depending on the level of kink someone was into. Personally, he would never be caught sporting a pair of chaps and carrying a leather flogger through the streets of Vegas. Not that it hadn’t been known to happen.

  “I’m going to need access to the club.”

  The man’s lips thinned. “I can’t give you that and I can’t let you into the parking structure without permission.” He smiled. “Unless, of course, you have a warrant.”

  Jase tucked his badge into his waistband and nodded toward the main doors. “I think I can endure a little public scrutiny.” He turned and walked to the main entrance. Unsure of what to expect, he braced for anything. He suspected that what went on beyond the ornately carved wooden door encompassed more than a smack on the ass and one or more hard cocks slamming into hungry pussies. Jase had been to a few clubs, known a few naughty girls, but he preferred his own playground. He liked an intimate encounter in the privacy of his room: his rules…his woman.

  Groups and scenes had their place in the lifestyle. He didn’t consider his tastes a lifestyle. Nor were his Dom needs complicated. And now that he knew he wouldn’t have to initiate Miranda, he felt the familiar burn in his gut. The tightly controlled need to push both himself and his partner to the heights of pleasure.

  Blood surged into Jase’s groin and his cock swelled against the zipper of his jeans. His pulse stuttered and kicked into a steady thump. He wiped sweat from his palm onto his thigh then grabbed the twisted wrought-iron handle. Locked. Shit. He scanned the jamb along the right and left for a doorbell. Finally he knocked.

  A camera in the corner refocused. “Membership card,” a male voice sounded from a small speaker to the right of the door. Jase flipped his badge. “Step back.” Jase did.

  A moment later, the door clicked and opened. A burly man blocked the pathway in. He stared hard at Jase and crossed his arms over his bulging chest. “What do you want?”

  “Inside.”

  “You got a warrant?”

  “No.”

  The man turned. Jase slapped his palm to the door before the man could shut him out. “This will only take a moment. It’s personal.”

  “Not my problem. Now get your fucking hand off the door before I break it.”

  “You should rethink that.”

  “I can make a few calls and have you removed.”

  Jase swallowed, remembering Steve’s warning. “Look, I don’t give a fuck about your club. I have reason to believe there’s a woman on the premises who is being forced into sexual capitulation.” He knew it was a lie, but he wanted in. “If I find out she’s being held against her will, I’ll be so far up your ass with an investigation, you’ll need a proctologist to remove me. Do you want this place crawling with law enforcement or are you going to get out of my fucking way, let me have a look around and determine for myself that she isn’t in imminent danger?”

  The man paused, then obviously bought Jase’s bluff because he stepped out of the way. “You want into the club without a warrant, buy a membership.” He crowded Jase’s space. “Flash your badge and play big badass cop, and I’ll tie your ass to a chair and personally beat the arrogance out of you.”

  “Are you threatening a cop?”

  “No, I’m making a pact for pleasure—my pleasure,” he said and sneered. “Now how would you like to pay for your membership?”

  Jase handed over his credit card.

  The man snatched it from his hand. “You’ll get it back when you’re ready to leave.” He pointed to the hall. “Go.”

  Jase took a few steps down the long corridor.

  “And don’t piss me off.”

  Navigating his way through the club, Jase looked left and right, searching faces. At first glance, the club was just like any other gathering mecca. Small bistro tables filled the area that once would have been the heart of the church. Vaulted ceilings, ornate woodwork and blackened windows. Music pumped through the sound system but not loud enough to drown out casual conversation. A bar stretched the length at the head of the room. Where once might have been a pulpit, leather-clad men poured drinks.

  The club wasn’t crowded. Perhaps a hundred people milled about the room. Miranda wasn’t among them. Jase sidled
to the left, moving deeper into the bowels of the building. She was here somewhere. All he had to do was find her. What he intended to do from there, he hadn’t decided. Whatever he chose, by the end of the night, their relationship wouldn’t be the same.

  After searching the lower level of the club, he climbed a stairwell to the second floor. The lighting wasn’t as good and the sounds weren’t of music and conversation, but of moans, gasps and muted voices. Jase leaned against the wall, allowing a woman wearing a shiny leather miniskirt and bustier with holes cut out for her nipples to stride past him. Those nipples had gold rings piercing the tips.

  God, his chest heaved as he breathed. Chaotic energy thrummed through his body. The scent of patchouli and clove blended and lingered with the heady fragrance of sex. Pheromones drenched the air. He responded. His cock flexed and his balls throbbed. Heat pooled at the base of his spine. He gripped his hands into fists and tried to relax. Tension coiled in his gut, and muscles tightened as he made his way down the hall.

  A woman grunted and moaned. Jase approached the open door. A fully masked man, tall and muscular, wearing a leather vest and chaps had his mammoth cock sliding past the full lips of a bound nude woman. Leather straps crisscrossed her arms, legs and torso, binding her to a long padded table. Her breasts pressed against the table, her eyes were closed and tears streamed down her cheeks. However, the fucking machine positioned behind her, slamming a ten-inch dong deep into her cunt, held Jase mesmerized.

  The whir of the motor increased. She gagged on the cock and whimpered. Cream glistened between her trembling thighs. The man grabbed a fistful of her hair, jerked her head higher and thrust more of his shaft between her red shiny lips. “If you could speak, you’d tell me you love cock, wouldn’t you?” She grunted, nodded as best she could with her head held immobile, and moaned. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.

  Jase swiped his tongue across his lower lip and continued to watch. The man was brutal, fucking her mouth with the same intensity as the machine thrusting in and out of her pussy. She quivered, arched, accepting both cock and dildo. Bound, controlled and at the man’s mercy, yet judging from the juices dripping from her cunt, she writhed in pleasure.

  Jase’s knees weakened and his cock hardened further. The woman’s submission was complete. The masked man’s power resolute. He pumped hard, arched his back and every tendon strained in his muscular body. A rough growl rolled from his chest. His body jerked and the woman swallowed, hungry for the man’s dick. Cream rimmed her stretched lips, leaked from the corners of her mouth and trickled onto her chin.

  Jase nearly came in his jeans. Was this what Miranda yearned for? There was a ribbon of fear coiled around his heart that Miranda would want more than he could give her. She had bruises, hid this part of her life from him, much the same way he hadn’t divulged his desire for control. But he could never hurt her, not without pleasure, not to the point of mutilation.

  With renewed determination, he turned away from the erotic performance and walked with purpose down the corridor. The place was too large, had too many rooms. The closed doors were a problem. If he was going to find Miranda, he needed in these rooms. He approached the next door cautiously, wrapped his fingers around the knob, and turned. The door opened and he peered inside. Empty. He released a breath and leaned against the wall.

  “Where are you?” he whispered. Miranda was somewhere in the club, and Jase hated to think of someone else pleasuring her, of restraining her, of controlling her release. In the time they’d known each other, he hadn’t an inkling she was into BDSM, fetish or anything remotely kinky. Hell, she was from small-town Nebraska. Had he known, would the knowledge have made a difference? Hell yes. He wouldn’t have hidden his predilection for domination. Unless he was wrong, and the intuition that made him a good cop said he wasn’t, not this time. Miranda required that he demand her submission.

  The crack and snap of a whip sounded from behind the closed door across the hall. He hesitantly approached and listened. His own heartbeat thundered in his ears and his ragged breath heightened his awareness.

  Muffled voices sounded from the room. A male and a female. He couldn’t discern what was said but the woman’s voice had a familiar tone. Cop instinct kicked in: assess the conditions, move with caution and control the situation. Jase turned the knob, opened the door and stepped into the room. Chills broke along his flesh. A flogger snapped, the leather tassels delivering a stinging blow to pale skin.

  The master pivoted, the flogger poised to strike again. “This is a private room.”

  Jase vaguely heard the words. He couldn’t focus on anything but Miranda. She knelt naked on the floor, chest rounded over the top of her trim thighs and her forehead resting on her knees. Her blonde hair softly fell around her narrow shoulders and shielded her face from his view. Behind her back, braided rope restrained her arms. The rope wrapped her forearms, bound her wrists together and tied her wrists to her ankles. Her ankles were tucked tightly under her bare rounded buttocks.

  “Do you have a problem?” The man tightened his grip and took a step toward Jase.

  “Yeah.” With his first word, Miranda visibly trembled. “Were you with her two nights ago?”

  “How is that any of your fucking business?” He tapped the flogger against his thigh. The tassels swished and Miranda whimpered. Red marks crisscrossed her bared back where the man had thrashed her with the flogger.

  Jase slowly dragged his gaze from Miranda. “Oh, I assure you, she’s my business.” He grabbed his badge from his waistband and flashed his detective shield to the bare-chested man.

  The guy cocked an eyebrow. “I guess that makes her your problem.”

  “I asked you a question,” Jase repeated.

  “Wasn’t me.”

  “Then get out.”

  “Whatever.” He tossed the flogger to a small bench. “Don’t be gentle. She likes it rough.” He crossed to a small closet and grabbed his shirt. He pulled it over his head and strode to the door. His voice softened as he spoke to Miranda. “Sorry, love, but I don’t need trouble.” His gaze met Jase’s. “In case you want to know, I haven’t fucked her. Sex wasn’t part of the contract.” He slipped out the door.

  Jase squatted down on his haunches to see her face in the restrained submissive pose. “Are you okay?”

  She didn’t speak.

  “Miranda, answer me.”

  “I’m fine.”

  Jase sighed and clasped his hands together between his widespread thighs. “I don’t know what to say to you. I’m full of questions, yet I don’t really need you to answer. Finding you here tells me everything I should know, doesn’t it?”

  Her heavy breaths seeped into his psyche. Heated flesh released the scent of her perfume. Beneath the subtle fragrance was the musky hint of her arousal. Still, she didn’t speak.

  “When I ask you a question, I expect a response.”

  She nodded.

  “A verbal response,” he said a little more sternly. “This is what you want?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I worried about you. You should have told me.”

  “Jase—”

  “The reasons no longer matter.” He stood and stripped off his shirt.

  Her head snapped up. “What are you doing?”

  “You aren’t in any position to question.” His palms sweat. Would she ask him to go? She wanted a rough bout of sex, to be told what to do and when to do it. Hell, part of his job was enforcing the law. The time and opportunity had come for her to acquiesce to his rules.

  “Jase, are you sure you understand?”

  He paused. Oh yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing. “If you want me to leave, say so now.” He glanced around the room. The flogger waited on the table. Tempting, but not tonight, not after the man who just left had flogged her. He let his eyes rest on her again. The ropes were sexy. Those would stay. “I know what I want and I know what you need.”

  Jase went to the closet and quickly peruse
d the contents at his disposal. Whips, chains, leather straps, paddles. Good hell, there was a veritable smorgasbord of punishment tools. His heartbeat spiked. Stained glass windows cast an amber glow over the large room. Almost like a hotel room. Bed on the left, television and DVD player in the wall mounted hutch. Suspended from the ceiling were large steel rings. Designed for bondage play, the headboard and footboard of the bed had wrought iron slats. His cock stirred. Cuffing her to the bed had definite appeal.

  “But why are you here?” Her plaintive voice could have made a weaker man bend. That wasn’t the kind of man she desired.

  Jase stared, warmth heating his balls and his cock throbbing. Tonight he didn’t want equipment. He wanted to use his hands, to show her the pleasure with the pain and punishment she required. “I’m here for you.”

  “Don’t you see?” She tried to shake her head but her restraints held her immobile. Tears welled in her eyes and she dropped her gaze to the floor again. “I need to be here for you.”

  “Ah, Miranda, I promise, you are.”

  Chapter Two

  Miranda slowed her breathing. Her muscles tightened under the pressure of having Jase, the man she envisioned while she stuffed a dildo in her pussy and a plug into her ass. His strong hands, his deep, seductive voice, his commanding presence. If she’d thought for a moment he could control her pleasure, she would have told him the truth about her needs. But Jase protected women, thought they should be put on a pedestal and pampered. That would never be enough for her.

  Maybe she was broken. She needed a powerful man—a dangerous man—in her life, in her bed, but he had to be so much more. He had to demand from her, take what he wanted so she could be the woman to give pleasure to him.