Free MIranda's Rights by KyAnn Waters

Chapter One
    Detective Jase Ralston paced across his living room. The hollow click of the clock on the wall was a patronizing sound, reminding him that the hour was late and he was too damn tired for this shit. He shouldn’t be upset. He shouldn’t care.
    Still, his hands clenched into fists as he imagined the worst. Where was she? She could be hurt, lost or alone. She could need him and he wasn’t there. His pulse spiked and emotions—fear—coiled in his gut. He hated feeling helpless. Damn it, Miranda Carlucci was testing his limits. What she needed was a paddle across that perfectly round and luscious ass. His cock stirred with the thought. Thoughts he was better off not having.
    Despite the fact that she plagued his fantasies and kept his dick in a state of anticipation, he and Miranda were just friends. She’d lived across the hall from him for nearly two years. Two years of wanting her while she kept her distance. They both had secrets. His were in his head—darker thoughts, needs and desires. He ached to reign over her body, her mind…her heart. And hers were just as personal; she hid a part of her life. The part he wanted.
    Another late night, another guy. He growled and raked his fingers along his scalp. Whom she fucked was her business. But damn it, Vegas was a dangerous place for an attractive single woman. He should know. As a detective for the LVMPD, he dealt with the scourge of the city. Sin City. Drugs, gangs, prostitution surrounded by the glittering lights of the Strip. Bells of the slots couldn’t drown out the wail of another violent crime. He’d seen it all.
    Miranda, with her lithe body, blonde hair and naivety, wasn’t equipped to deal with what his city had to offer. Nebraska born and raised, and her trusting blue eyes refused to see the cruelty in people. Men could use a woman like Miranda, force her submission…
    Jase growled and paced back to the door. Was he any different? He’d wanted to fuck her since she’d moved in. He slid his palm into the front of his jeans and adjusted his swelling cock. He couldn’t think of her, of laying her on his bed, spreading her thighs—not without a piercing ache to his chest.
    If he had her in his bed, he would leave the imprint of his hand on her beautiful ass before he spread her full taut, cheeks and slid a plug into her tight little star. After he buried his face in her cunt, sucked her clit until she screamed his name, and drank down her intoxicating essence, he’d remove the plug and fuck her ass. He’d worship her in a way only he could.
    But that would never happen. She wasn’t interested. Just friends. He’d accepted that long ago, but her lack of sexual interest didn’t diminish his attraction to her. Besides having a tantalizingly hot body, firm tits and an ass to fill his hands, she was a doll. Friendly. Too friendly.
    Jase acknowledged he wasn’t in her league—not for more than friendship. He was blue-collar and hardworking. Miranda deserved diamonds and caviar. They might live in the same apartment complex, spend time together watching television and even grab dinner together several times a week, but those weren’t dates. Miranda dated up. Her work behind the scenes in the casino industry exposed her to the wealthy, powerful men of Vegas. Upscale scourge. Jase had a gut feeling that her latest guy wasn’t treating her well.
    Jase was a Dom. He liked control, but he’d never abuse a woman. Lately he wasn’t sure if someone was hurting her, demeaning her—forcing her to do something she didn’t want to do. That was the problem. She wouldn’t open up to him about her late nights. His thoughts raced in a thousand different directions. Only one conclusion made sense. She didn’t want Jase to know.
    Across the hall, a key worked into a lock. Jase stomped across the floor and swung the door open.
    “Jase!” Miranda sucked in a sharp inhale, slapped a hand over her heart and spun in his direction. “You scared