MIranda's Rights (5 page)

But he wasn’t even looking at her. Wasn’t smiling or teasing in his usual way. She’d seen him pissed, frustrated and even filled with grief, but he’d always been able to share his feelings with her. Just that quickly, was he pulling away?

Chapter Three

Miranda sat on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. What was happening? For her, what had just happened between them had been magical. She couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. Maybe Jase had struggled more than he’d let on. He hadn’t hurt her, not in any way that she didn’t want. So he shouldn’t regret what happened between them. Maybe she’d somehow disappointed him. He bent, picked up his briefs and tugged them on.

“Jase? Is something wrong?” Hadn’t he promised a reward for each orgasm?

“No, you were great.” He stepped into his jeans.

“Then why are you getting dressed?” She wanted him to stay, to give her more of what she’d only sampled. “We don’t have to leave.”

“I do.” His choppy movements reflected his agitation and his mouth formed a tight line.

“But…I…but I—”

“I know. But I won’t do this, not here. This is your scene. I don’t play scenes.”

She bowed her head to keep him from seeing the moisture shimmering in her eyes. “I don’t understand. Then why would you come here?”

“This is a BDSM fuck club, Miranda. And we just fucked.” He held his shirt in his tightly fisted fingers. “Did you want something besides a fuck?” The timbre of his voice deepened, laced with danger. “More rough sex, a little spanking?”

Not a little. He owed her many spankings.

Pressure built behind her eyes and her stomach roiled. Why was he doing this? He’d come for her, knew the rules. Hell, he made the rules. “No, you’re right.” And she’d been wrong—about everything except that she’d fallen in love with him.

“No, you’re right—what?”

She scrunched her forehead and narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re right, Sir. This is a club and we both understood the rules.” Only she’d never have believed they’d end like this, that he’d turn into such a prick. Tears burned behind her eyes.

Stitches ripped as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Are you coming?”

Not now, not for Jase. They’d had an agreement and he wasn’t abiding by the rules he set. Fine, but she wouldn’t show him how much his rejection hurt. She’d known. He wasn’t a Dom, not the Dom she needed. If he couldn’t reward her with an open-palm spanking, how could she expect him to use the flogger on her pussy? It was why she’d never revealed the truth of her sexual predilections. She didn’t play at BDSM. Without serving a master, she wasn’t complete. Now she feared she’d never be complete—not without Jase. Coming to the club gave her a brief encounter, kept her sane while still allowing her the fantasy of one day having more, having permanence—with someone like Jase.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Not someone
like
him—she desperately wanted
Jase
.

“I can find my way home.” She crossed her arms over her bent legs, shielding as much of her body as possible.

A muscle ticked in his jaw and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. “Miranda—”

“Just go. Please.” She blinked back tears.

He walked to the door. His shoulders were stiff and his spine straight. Tension rolled off him in waves. She wanted to beg him to stay, tell him whatever he needed to hear to keep him by her side. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. What if she required more than he was capable of giving? But tonight had proven she didn’t need, or want, more. She’d responded to Jase, his commanding words and erotic touches.

The door creaked open and her heart hurt. He glanced over his shoulder a last time. Pain sliced through her chest. Nausea churned in her tummy.

He paused, almost as if he wanted to say something. His mouth softened and his eyes bore hard into hers. Then he stepped from the room and the door closed.

The hollow click left her in the room with nothing but the memory of how she felt in Jase’s arms. Drowning in the stillness, she’d never felt more alone.

Jase had left. Without words, without care for her, without thought to her feelings. She slid from the bed and quickly dressed. At what point had he decided he didn’t want her? Was it while he was spanking her ass, when he had his cock deep in her pussy, or was it when he realized she’d need more from him once he’d taken his release? She needed his love.

She slipped from the room, slinked down the corridor and descended the stairs to the main floor of the club. Chattering voices and muted music drifted from the main gathering area, but Miranda wasn’t in the mood for socializing, not anymore. Leaving through the back entrance, she hurried to her vehicle, slid behind the wheel and revved the engine. She just wanted to get home.

She drove through town. No longer on the brink of tears, she could feel herself riding the edge of pissed. What did he think would happen when he stormed into a BDSM club and read the Miranda Rights to her?

After parking in her assigned spot, she entered the complex and went to her apartment. Not even trying to be discreet, she shoved her key into the lock of her door. Tonight he wouldn’t come bursting out of his apartment demanding to know where she’d been. He knew.

The door swung open and she slammed it closed. In bed, during sex, she was submissive. The uncomfortable heat of punishment and the exposed and vulnerable sensation of being bound created the unexplainable pleasure of submission. That didn’t mean a submissive was a doormat. A Dom didn’t make his sub feel used. He didn’t take and not give back.

As she stalked to her bedroom, she stripped out of her clothes. Not that she could go to bed. She’d never sleep with the emotions stirring in her stomach. Had she lost her best friend tonight?

She sank to the edge of the mattress and buried her face in her hands. Her breath came hard and fast. She couldn’t lose him. Their tryst flashed through her mind, the moist glide of his mouth against her back as he knelt behind her, the touch of his tongue to her pussy, the scrape of his calluses as fingertips drifted over her buttocks, and the sting of his palm on her flesh. She also thought of the look of rapture on his face as she’d taken him into her mouth. He couldn’t hide his pleasure any more than she could.

Adrenaline spiked her pulse. She wasn’t assertive by nature. She’d rather please. That didn’t mean she didn’t have opinions or stand up for what she wanted. But this wasn’t about her good friend, Jase, the guy she teased and laughed with. This was about the man she trusted with her emotions and with her body. The man she wanted to serve. And he’d let her down.

If she was ever going to find out why, she was going to have to demand some answers. She clasped her trembling fingers together, took a deep breath and stood. Changing into a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, she left her room.

Deep breath in, slow exhale. Damn, her heart pounded and she couldn’t focus her erratic thoughts. All this time she’d been strong, fought her feelings for Jase and convinced him that she wasn’t interested in him sexually. She’d almost convinced herself. Then tonight, she’d left herself defenseless.

She went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Aside from tousled hair and whisker burns on her neck, she was the same as this morning. Same blue eyes and blonde hair. Same mouth. She touched her bruised lips, remembering the taste of Jase’s kiss. The same, yet inside she’d changed. She’d risked her friendship with Jase. No, she hadn’t been the one barging into the room. That had been Jase. He’d come for her. Had he not, she would never have known how good they could be together. Never realize that he was the only one who could complete her. She belonged to him. Sometimes ignorance could be bliss.

“What if I’ve lost him?” If she didn’t go talk to him, there would be no chance of a future together and there was a good chance she couldn’t salvage their friendship.

Tears didn’t hurt, not like the pain swelling in her chest, but right now crying wouldn’t help. Neither did she want to wallow in her misery. She needed to talk to Jase. After splashing her face with cool water, she gathered her courage. Enough time hadn’t passed to squash the raw emotions driving her. Good. She had to remember how she felt when he’d shut the door, leaving her alone, shivering and in need of his comfort and love.

Softly opening her door, she stared across the hall at his. She pulled her door closed and leaned against it not knowing what to say to him or how to say it. Standing there, between this moment and the next, she was afraid. This was Jase. Her best friend. And he was the man she wanted, so she’d better figure out a way to show him that she was the woman he needed.

Taking a fortifying breath, she calmed her nerves, took three steps and gently knocked. The apartment was quiet on the other side of the closed door. Maybe he’d gone to bed. She’d never been a switch—dominant one day and submissive the next. She was always only submissive. But if he could sleep after what had happened between them, she was going to channel an assertive dominatrix and whip his ass. How many nights had he waited up to make sure she made it home safe? And then the night he leaves her in a club, he sleeps like a baby? She knocked louder.

She heard movement on the other side of the door. Her breath caught and her hands shook. Skin was the only thing holding her together. Finally, the door opened.

Heat rushed into her face, streaked down her spine and pooled in her pussy. The same black jeans he had on in the club rode low on his hips, the top button undone. The man exuded sex appeal. Muscular, strong, virile. He kept his left hand on the door and his right hung at his side. A half-empty bottle of beer teetered between his thumb and forefinger.

“I’m not going to beg for answers, but I think you owe me an explanation.” She pushed past him and entered the apartment.

He shut the door. As he faced her, he rubbed a hand down his bare torso. “I thought I was pretty clear.”

“If you were, I wouldn’t be here.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re confusing me and I don’t like it. You have been at me for weeks about where I go at night. You take it upon yourself to find me.” Her voice lowered. “You claimed me, and then you left.”

“I gave you what you wanted.” He set his beer on the table and approached her.

She snorted. “You don’t truly believe that. You were in the room with me.”

“I know.” A step closer. “You were incredible.”

Tears blurred her vision. “Then why did you leave me? I held nothing back. Not with you.”

“What of the others? Did you hold back with them?”

Did his anger stem from jealousy? That was crazy. “We have to talk, Jase. I don’t think you understand what happens at Club Creed.”

“I was there. I know exactly what happens.”

She put her hand on his arm. The muscles in his forearms bunched and stiffened under her fingertips. “We had sex.” Emotions swirled in her tummy and pressure tightened her throat. “But you didn’t give me what I need.”

“We both came.”

“I can come with a vibrator. I don’t go to Club Creed to reach orgasm. I can do that on my own.” She did it nightly before she went to bed and dreamed about this man.

“I found you in a sex club, bound and waiting for dick.”

She’d be angry with his words if it weren’t for the pained expression darkening his eyes. She shook her head. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. That’s why I’ve never told you about the club. I know not everyone understands why a man or woman finds fulfillment in a BDSM lifestyle.”

“I’m a cop, Miranda. I get off on forcing people to do what I say.” Jase sighed. “But I’m also a Dom. I always have been.” He pointed to the couch. “I feel like we’re in corners ready to come out fighting.”

“I don’t want to fight either.” She sat and Jase took the chair across from her.

Jase leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “Your submission is a gift. A precious gift. You give that gift to strangers in a club.”

“You’re wrong. I’ve never given myself to anyone the way I did with you. I enter into an agreement with the men at the club. I don’t care for them. They have no idea who I am.” She thumped her heart with her chest. “Not the way you know me. Those encounters are a performance. You were real.”

“I am real and I care about you. If you just want to get beat up and then fucked, you can get that in the club. But that’s not what I want. And I won’t play. If you want to be with other men—” He stood and raked his fingers through his dark tousled hair. “Fuck.” Muscles flexed in his back.

“I already told you that the bruises were a mistake. A scene went too far. And not that I haven’t, but I rarely have sex in the club.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he said with a sharp edge to his voice. “I can handle the truth.”

“Truth?” Her breathing grew shallow and her pulse spiked. He would either love and accept her needs or she had to be let go. She couldn’t have his love and affection in pieces. She needed him for so much more. “I’ve always craved the punishment,” she whispered. “Not the sex. But with you, I felt different. I want the pain, but even more, I just needed to be with you.”

Silence stretched the moment. She bowed her head waiting for the condemnation. Unable to endure the scrutiny, she slowly lifted her gaze to his. A soft smile curled his mouth. Dark brows furrowed over slate gray eyes. Passion and determination swirled in his lust-darkened irises.

Liquid heat flowed over Miranda’s flesh. She didn’t speak, afraid to break the intimate spell weaving between them.

“There isn’t a question of whether or not I can be the master you need. I am.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “Are you sure?”

He approached and dropped to his haunches in front of her, resting his hands on her knees. “Are you? I don’t want an arranged encounter at Club Creed. If you submit to me, I want it all.”

The warmth of his palm seeped into her flesh. Her body instantly responded. Nipples tightened. Pulses fluttered in her pussy and her clit tingled.

“Yes, Sir.” Two simple words. She wanted him.

His forehead dropped to her knees. She ran her fingers through his silken curls, cupping his head, then trailed her fingertips to his neck. His flesh was hot. Leaning over him, she detailed the hard curves of his strong back. Her master was on his knees. Lust unfurled low in her belly.