High Voltage

by Calista Fox

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  Red Sage Publishing

  www.eredsage.com

  Copyright ©2008 by Calista Fox

  First published in 2008, 2008

  * * *

  NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

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  CONTENTS

  High Voltage

  To My Reader:

  High Voltage: Chapter 1

  High Voltage: Chapter 2

  High Voltage: Chapter 3

  High Voltage: Chapter 4

  High Voltage: Chapter 5

  High Voltage: Chapter 6

  High Voltage: Chapter 7

  High Voltage: Chapter 8

  High Voltage: Chapter 9

  High Voltage: Chapter 10

  High Voltage: Chapter 11

  High Voltage: Chapter 12

  High Voltage: Chapter 13

  High Voltage: Chapter 14

  High Voltage: Chapter 15

  High Voltage: Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  About the author:

  Red Sage Publishing

  * * * *

  An eRedSage Publishing Publication

  This book is a work of complete fiction. Any names, places, incidents, characters are products of the authors imagination and creativity or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is fully coincidental.

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  Information:

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  High Voltage

  An eRed Sage Publication * All Rights Reserved * Copyright © 2008

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  ISBN: 978-1-60310-178-3 * 1-60310-178-0 * High Voltage * Adobe PDF

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  Published by arrangement with the authors and copyright holders of the individual works as follows:

  High Voltage © 2008 By Calista Fox

  Cover © 2008 by Rae Monet, Inc.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Book typesetting by: Quill & Mouse Studios, Inc. * quillandmouse.com

  High Voltage

  * * * *

  by Calista Fox

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  To My Reader:

  I'm not sure what I would do if I found a gorgeous multimillionaire—who just happened to be naked!—in the back of my truck where I'd left an injured dog ... I can only hope I'd derive as much pleasure out of the bizarre situation as Serena Lamond does. Enjoy!

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  High Voltage: Chapter 1

  "These April showers had better bring a hell of a lot of May flowers."

  If the adage held true, the wildflowers covering the low-rising hill that sat behind Serena Lamond's cozy lakeside cottage would be plentiful this spring. The vibrant purples, yellows and blues that dotted the lush knee-deep green grass had instantly drawn her in, making this place a welcome haven for her self-imposed exile. Serena hadn't been able to decide where she'd wanted to hide out while recovering from the nasty scandal she'd been embroiled in at work, but one look at the realtor's photos and she'd known this was her new home.

  Unfortunately, no one had warned her that the torrential downpours had the ability to flood the back half of her cottage. She'd discovered that all on her own this past fall. Lesson Number One. Hopefully, the carpenter she'd hired had created a substantial enough barrier that when she got home tonight, she wouldn't have to bail water.

  It had rained for four days straight. Almost all damned day and all damned night. The roads were all but washed out, save for the back road that led from Serena's cottage to town—in a very wayward, roundabout sort of manner. She'd prefer to not brave the elements in weather like this, but four damned days! A person could only be cooped up for so long. And besides, she hadn't stocked the necessary provisions for lengthy captivity. Specifically, she was low on wine. That bordered on emergency, in her book.

  So she'd hoofed it into town in her barely-able-to-make-it-down-the-road pickup that was at least a hundred years old. Lesson Number Two. Never buy a car sight-unseen, no matter how desperate you are and no matter how good a deal you're offered.

  Despite the blips she'd encountered thus far, Serena had come to like Silver, Wyoming. The only downside was this really weird weather. She wasn't used to this much rain, nor had she ever heard thunder roar so loudly or so ominously. She'd be surprised if the people in Jackson Hole didn't hear the ruckus, even though they were a good two hundred miles away.

  As though to prove her point, a sharp crack of thunder nearly pierced her eardrums.

  "Yes, we hear you,” she grumbled as she peered through the windshield. “The whole Goddamn Free World hears you.” Leaning over the steering wheel and narrowing her eyes, she focused on the road ahead of her. It was pitch black outside, except for when the three-pronged lightning bolts lit up the night sky. They were a little scary, but beautiful—a purplish-pink color outlined by shimmering gold. She'd caught a glimpse of the electrifying bolts a time or two, though mostly the flashes of light were damn near blinding because they were so close in proximity.

  As she drove down the road she knew the wheels of her pickup gathered thick clumps of mud. The slight pull of the steering wheel told her the red clay stuck to the tires and filled the hubcaps. Lesson Number Three had come after a long downpour that she'd ventured out in a few months ago. She'd been driving the pickup down the road and it had shaken like King Kong himself was rattling the frame. Turns out the mud had collected in the hubcaps and dried, throwing the suspension out of whack.

  Anyone with a lick of sense would have cut her losses and replaced the heap of junk with a newer version, but not Serena. She'd grown attached to the old clunker. As was her custom, and likely the source of her downfall.

  Serena was just too damned sappy of heart for her own good.

  Narrowing her eyes further, she pushed the wayward thoughts from her mind and focused on the road. Thick clouds had rolled in and they shrouded the full moon, making it nearly impossible to see past the hood of the truck. Serena slowed to a cautious crawl, but she could still feel the thick mud pull at the tires, making the truck shimmy as it crept along.

  Beside her, she'd piled a half-dozen paper sacks full of groceries. On the floor was a case of wine. Not a great brand, mind you, but Serena had yet to develop a taste for tart lemonade, the beverage of choice in these parts. She took what she could get where wine varietals were concerned. She hadn't yet lost hope, though, that the local grocer would someday place the order she'd left with him six months ago for an Australian Shiraz she was particularly fond of.

  A girl had to have her vices, particularly during a personal exile.

  Now, if she could just get herself—and her wine—safely home.

  Carefully negotiating her way down the long, winding road, she kept an eye out for wild animals. She'd heard a few weeks ago that Millie Stanford had run over a wild boar late one night. Millie was okay, but the boar hadn't fared so well. Nor had Mill
ie's station wagon.

  A bright flash of light brought Serena's attention back to the road ... and the violent storm she was immersed in. Fat raindrops hit the hood and roof of the truck so hard the tinny sound echoed inside the cab. Her windshield wipers, working double-time, couldn't quite keep up with the downpour.

  And the lightning ... Jesus. It was so intense tonight. Like nothing she'd seen before. And it was the same three-pronged spear, over and over again, that kept illuminating the night sky just ahead of her.

  She mentally envisioned the road in broad daylight. Ditches lined either side, which were usually flooded during lengthy storms. What about power lines? She couldn't remember when they stopped running alongside the road. Two, maybe three miles from the turn-off to her cottage? Serena couldn't say for sure. Damn. Why couldn't she pay better attention to her surroundings?

  She wasn't even sure how far she was from home. At the snail's pace she was going, she feared she wouldn't arrive until sun up.

  When another bolt pierced the darkness, Serena gasped. A sizzling sound filled her ears and she could swear she felt the burst of heat on her skin—and deep within her. Her nerve-endings felt singed, and a hot, restless feeling suddenly blazed through every inch of her before targeting the core of her being.

  "What the fuck?” she mumbled as her nipples tightened behind the white lace bra she wore beneath her tank top.

  Sharp stabs of desire pricked her between her legs, not abating the least little bit as she carefully maneuvered the truck down the road. In fact, the throbbing deep within her seemed to intensify with every passing minute, making her more and more uncomfortable.

  As sexual frustration settled in, Serena pushed a few loose strands of chestnut-colored hair from her face. The long locks had escaped her ponytail when she was loading the groceries in town. The wispy strands hadn't bothered her up to this point, but now, every single touch on her skin—no matter how light—seemed to tease her senses and heighten her arousal. Every inch of her seemed hypersensitive. Especially that spot at the juncture of her legs, which pulsed in time with the windshield wipers, erratically beating and demanding her attention.

  "Okay,” she whispered to herself, as she was prone to do. “This is way weird."

  As though in affirmation, the storm quickly turned from bad to worse. She knew she'd get stuck in it if she didn't get home. Her foot got a little heavier on the accelerator. The roar of thunder mingled with the crackle of lightning. Both were becoming more frequent, indicating she was driving into the heart of the storm.

  It occurred to Serena that she ought to turn around and head back into town. But the road was narrow and maneuvering in this thick mud wouldn't be easy. Plus, town was a good fifteen miles away. Home was closer.

  The rain was coming down in sheets now that washed over the truck and sluiced down the windshield, all but rendering the wipers useless. The eerie elements surrounding her grew more intense until it seemed there was one continuous roar of thunder and consecutive flashes of lightning. The brilliant bursts illuminated the road, but they were so bright Serena had to close her eyes when they flashed.

  "This is not good.” She groaned. She wasn't just referring to the storm. Her insides felt so freaking hot, it was a wonder she wasn't perspiring. And if the aching between her legs didn't subside soon—

  Suddenly, white and gold spots danced before her eyes and her vision blurred as another spear lit the night. When her eyes adjusted again, a flash of glowing green piercing the darkness caught her attention.

  "What the hell?” A moment later, Serena was jolted in her seat as the front end of the truck hit something solid. She skidded to a stop, her heart hammering so hard in her chest it was a wonder it stayed put.

  Endless seconds ticked by as Serena sat in the cab of the truck, wondering what to do. If she'd just hit a wild boar, she wasn't getting out in this storm to save its sorry ass.

  But what if she'd hit one of Pete Dowling's German Shepherds? She wasn't far from his house and everyone knew he let them run wild. They were loveable animals. The few times she'd visited with Pete, the dogs had been kind and gentle. They'd lain at her feet while she and Pete enjoyed a nice glass of wine on his front porch. Pete liked the hard stuff, but he'd settle for wine when she brought it. At least he didn't serve tart lemonade when she visited.

  Holy Christ. What if she'd just hit one of his dogs? Pete would never forgive her. Serena would never forgive herself!

  As she debated her plan of action, another thunderous roar filled the air and a sizzling, crackling, three-pronged spear of lightning flashed right before Serena's eyes, the tip of one prong connecting with the hood of her truck. The vehicle shook violently for several long moments and the brightness nearly blinded Serena.

  She let out a loud scream and covered her eyes with her forearm. Heat seared her skin and the near-deafening noise left her ears ringing and her head buzzing. When the flashes dimmed and the truck stopped shaking, Serena lowered her arm and opened her eyes.

  Large white orbs pulsed and burst in her immediate line of vision. Over the ringing in her ears she somehow managed to hear the cry of a wounded animal.

  Oh, God. She'd maimed one of Pete's dogs!

  Fighting for a full breath of air, Serena contemplated the metal handle on the door panel. She racked her brain, trying to remember from her eighth grade science class if the truck would hold an electrical charge.

  Shit, why hadn't she paid better attention in school?

  She remembered laughing in the back row with her friends, saying something like, “Yeah, because we really need to know if a car can hold an electrical charge. As if that would ever happen to us."

  Well it was happening now!

  She took a stab in the dark that she wouldn't get zapped because the truck was grounded. The tips of two fingers gingerly touched the handle. Serena let out a sharp cry at the shocking jolt she received. Holding the pulsing, stinging hand to her chest, covered by her other hand, Serena stared at the offending door.

  Son of a bitch!

  As she considered how she was going to get out of the truck while it held some sort of electrical charge from the lightning, heat coursed through her, hot and bright, once again targeting her most intimate and sensitive spots.

  She shifted in the seat as an uncomfortable spark ignited between her legs, stealing her breath.

  Okay, that was really weird.

  Sure, it had been a while since she'd paid much attention to that area, but come on! Just because she—or anyone else—hadn't frequented that particular part of her body in a long time, why the hell would an electrical charge?

  A warm, molten feeling seeped through her veins, but what she felt between her legs wasn't quite so languid. In fact, the throbbing was sharp and distinct, undeniably uncomfortable yet ... erotic. The thrumming inside her made Serena think of the natural, physical needs she'd ignored for so long.

  Denied herself, really.

  She shifted in the seat and that seemed to intensify the sensation. Her breath came in soft pants, and Serena had the inescapable desire to succumb to the physical call. Pressing two fingers against the juncture of her legs, the pressure—even through the thick denim of her jeans—brought her an intense, powerful climax.

  Serena let out a soft cry as the pleasure coursed through her body.

  The vehement reaction left her speechless as she gasped for air. Her eyelids dipped for a moment while she tried to catch her breath. It seemed to take an extraordinary amount of time for her to return to herself—and remember she was sitting in thick mud that would be a bitch to get out of if she didn't act fast.

  Still ... She couldn't bring herself to move. She simply stared out the window at the torrential downpour, wondering what the hell had just happened to her.

  "You had an orgasm,” she finally said in a droll tone, finding her voice, though it sounded low and sultry to her ears. “Yes, it's a bit shocking. But for God's sake. Get a grip."

  Was she really in
such need of male attention—sexual attention—that she was this sensitive to erotic sensations?

  Shaking her head, she shifted her gaze to the door again. She removed her denim jacket and wrapped it around her hand before reaching for the handle. Slipping out of the truck without further incident, she rounded the front end.

  Serena was instantly drenched and chilled to the bone. With trembling fingers, she pushed the long strands of hair from her cheeks and neck, which clung to her wet skin. She saw that the headlight on the passenger's side of the truck was out now. Whatever she'd hit was likely in a lot of pain, considering it had shattered the glass covering the light. She carefully made her way to that side of the truck, trying not to slip in the slick mud that pulled at her hiking boots. When she rounded the passenger side, darkness consumed her.

  She glanced up at the moon, still concealed behind a thick patch of clouds. Not even a shimmer of light penetrated the dark covering.

  "Figures,” she mumbled before her teeth began to chatter. She couldn't see a damned thing. And the rain continued to pour down on her, making it difficult to maneuver or even search for the dog she'd hit.

  But then a soft whimper drew her attention to the thin strip of road next to the wheel well. Knowing there was a flooded ditch along the shoulder of the road, she stayed close to the truck. Crouching down low, she reached a hand out and literally felt her way alongside the road. Her fingers skittered over mud and puddles of water until her hand encountered wet, slick fur.

  "Oh, shit,” she said. All traces of erotic sensations instantly vanished. Guilt settled deep within her in its place.

  She really had hit one of Pete's dogs. Scooting a bit closer to it while still crouched on her feet, Serena let her hand travel over the dog's soft coat. Oddly, he felt bigger and a bit furrier than one of Pete's Shepherds. Still ... she had to help him.

  "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hit you. I didn't see you.” The animal let out a low growl and she snatched her hand away. “Okay, look,” she reasoned, raising her voice above the thunder and the pelts of rain that fell all around and on her. “You've got two choices. You can lie here and die, or you can help me get you into the back of the truck.” She paused a moment, waiting for a flash of lightning to illuminate the night sky and give her a little working light. It wasn't forthcoming.