Lost: Saved By Love, #1

By Jodi Kae

PLEASE READ THIS!!!

This novel contains mature adult content. If you are not at least 18 years of age or explicit sexual details are not to your liking, please download the Romance version instead. It's the same story but PG version.  ISBN: 9781533743640   

 

The last thing Derek expected to find on the dirt road to his cabin, is an unconscious, beaten and bloody woman.  Trying to keep her safe and help her regain her memory, takes him on a different life course than expected.

Lost is an erotic suspense novel, an intense non-traditional love story that will take you on a roller coaster ride of emotions.  Romance version also available. ISBN: 9781533743640   

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jodi Kae
• Release date: Apr 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9781519989499

Book preview

Saved by Love Series Book #1

Erotic suspense by

Jodi Kae

Lost

Copyright © 2016 by Jodi Kae

Betrayal is a work of fiction.  Any names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be distributed, reproduced, or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the author.

Warning

This book contains material not suitable for readers under the age of 18.  Scenes of violence, graphic language, erotic content, and other aspects that some may find disturbing are included.  If you would like to read the toned down version of this same story, you will want to purchase the romance version.

Reader discretion is advised.

All of my books are meant to be stand-alone novels; however, the storyline is best understood if read in order.

Saved by Love Series

Book #1..................Lost

Book #2...............Found

Book #3..........Reunited

Book #4............Revenge

Book #5...........Betrayal

Book #6.....Redemption

Book #7......Deliverance

Contents 

Title page

Copyright

Warning

Chapter One - Freedom

Chapter Two - Heal

Chapter Three - Revelation

Chapter Four - Starved

Chapter Five - Awakening

Chapter Six – Shame

Chapter Seven - Console

Chapter Eight - Panic

Chapter Nine - Redemption

Chapter Ten - Enlighten

Chapter Eleven - Frantic

Chapter Twelve - Protection

Chapter Thirteen - Committed

Chapter Fourteen - Distraction

Chapter Fifteen - Rejuvenation

Chapter Sixteen - Hope

Chapter Seventeen - Escape

Chapter Eighteen - Diversion

Chapter Nineteen - Salvation

Chapter Twenty - Transformation

Chapter Twenty-one - Conception

Chapter Twenty-two - Sacrifice

Chapter Twenty-three - Desperation

Chapter Twenty-four - Elimination

Chapter Twenty-five - Control

Chapter Twenty-six - Revenge

Chapter Twenty-seven - Closure

Chapter Twenty-eight - Breathe

Chapter Twenty-nine - Enrapture

Epilogue

Chapter one

Freedom: 

*the power or right to act, speak, or think as one wants.  *absence of subjection to foreign domination or despotic government.  *the power of self-determination attributed to the will; the quality of being independent of fate or necessity.  *the state of not being imprisoned.  *the state of being unrestricted and able to move easily.

*unrestricted use of something.  *the state of not being subject to or affected by something undesirable.

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~Derek~

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The open road brings me peace, just a long stretch of smooth asphalt to keep me company.  Cruising through the mountain pass, my Harley’s quiet hum is music to my ears until I reach my sanctuary in the hills.  Coming home is always soothing to my soul, even though I’m alone here with nothing but the crickets and wildlife to keep me company; I prefer it that way.  My cabin is my retreat from the rat race I live in, but If Shana needs to reach me, she can call my satellite phone.

I haven’t taken a vacation since starting Mason PI six years ago, but after the last case, my secretary demanded I take one or she was going to quit.  Shana has been my rock for five years and is an angel sent from above.  After ten secretaries storming out, calling me every name in the book, I’d just about given up finding someone who could put up with me.  She claims I’m just like her papa who was also a PI.  He was shot and killed during an investigation, and she believes it’s her duty to keep the same from happening to me. 

I was only twenty-three when my own parents were murdered in their home.  The scene was made to look like a random robbery, although only a few pieces of jewelry and some antiques were missing.  The police said my parents came home from the country club surprising the robbers; no witness was their motto.  They were bound, gagged, and shot execution-style in their bedroom.  So after two years with no additional leads and the case getting colder by the minute, I decided to go hunting myself, which led to Mason PI.  With the help of my friend Jax, who is an agent with the FBI, we were able to put two thugs away for life without the possibility of parole.  My dad’s business partner who ordered their murder only received twenty-five to life; he will die in prison of old age before he ever sees a parole date.

Part of my inheritance is my father’s investment firm, which I didn’t want.  It’s one of the top Fortune 500 companies in the world.  Many people might think I hit a gold mine, but I am not the business suit corporate type; sitting in a stuffy office with other suits is not my idea of a dream job.  My dad expected me to take over for him and had been training me to be his protégé since I was little, so I’m sure he turned over in his grave when I decided to sell most of my interest in the company to one of his other business partners.  It was the best outcome for all parties involved.  His partner assured me that my dad’s employees would remain with the company and be taken care of.  The monthly residual checks from my retained interest in the firm are donated to different foundations, which are handled by my secretary Shana.   

The majority of my inheritance has set me up for life and any family I leave behind; which is not in the cards for me, the family that is.  I like my solitary life and only crave a woman’s company for one thing; unfortunately, once they realize who I am, dollar signs have them craving much more than I’m willing to give.  Being the only heir to a multi-million dollar company tends to bring a lot of unwanted publicity.  Google has definitely not done wonders for me.

With both my parents gone and no siblings to care for, I have put all my energy into building my cabin.  Since I never planned to get married or have any children, I thought I could splurge on my private get-away.  With a solar system and a private well, I have everything needed to retire up here someday.  At thirty-one, it won’t be soon.  Not because I need the money, but to keep myself from becoming a hermit.

Two hours into my scenic drive, my private road welcomes me home.  The sunset is always amazing at the top of the mountain, at least what you can see through the trees anyway.  And with the temperature cooling to a comfortable 60º, much better than the humid 80º in the concrete jungle where I earn a living, it is heaven on earth.  Purchasing this mountain eight years ago was the best investment I’ve ever made. The two hundred and fifty acres provides me the privacy I crave. 

Turning off the winding, paved road onto an un-kept dirt one is not what I’d normally do to my bike, but I haven’t been here in six months to maintain it, so I’ll just have to go slow. 

When I flip on the bike light to show me the way through the thick evergreens up to my home, the beam highlights the dirt road up ahead, but what catches my attention is not normal for my neck of the woods.  What the hell!  I curse out loud, but the figure doesn’t move.  Stopping my bike, I angle the headlight directly on the limp form.  The small, barely clothed body is motionless, even though the rumble of my bike should have roused a hibernating bear.  From the looks of it, a wild animal was planning on a meal, and I may have interrupted.  I turn off the bike and listen for unusual sounds, but the forest is eerily quiet, like it’s trying to warn me that something is out there.  Hopping off, I grab my .45 from my shoulder holster and rush forward.  When I get closer, I see the crumpled and bloody body of a child lying two feet from the roadside.  The long dark hair covering her face is matted with dirt, leaves, and blood.  When I reach down and touch her cold, bare shoulder, she moans.

Her body temperature is low, and she starts to shiver uncontrollably; if I don’t get her inside, hypothermia will set in.  As gently as I can, I pick her up and quickly move to my bike.  Trying not to move her too much, I hold her close to my body as I mount my Harley.  When I have to shift her a little so I can drive home, I glance down to see her mouth open on a silent scream.  Considering the condition her body is in, I imagine that she’s in a lot of pain, but I have to move her.  I have no choice.  When tears stream from her eyes to mix with the blood at her temple, it gives me hope that she still has some fight in her, but pisses me off that I’m adding to her anguish.  What the hell happened to this girl? 

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~Unknown~

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The pounding in my head is excruciating.  Something thick and wet slides down my face with a faint drip to the hard surface below.  My arms feel weighed down, and no matter how hard I try to move, I can’t raise my hand to my face to wipe away the stickiness.  Where am I?  Who am I?  What happened to me that I feel this much pain?  With my face pressed to the cold, hard ground, my shallow breath sucks in the earthy smell of dirt.  I must be outside, but trying to open my eyes to take in my surroundings becomes another impossible feat.  I shiver uncontrollably when a chilled breeze flows over my skin, confirming my outside theory.  Am I on the verge of death?  I can’t see the bright light or any light for that matter.  Isn’t that what everyone waxes poetic about after a near-death experience?  Am I in heaven?  I’m not really sure that is where I want to be if the pain I feel comes with that privilege. 

The throbbing at my temple dominates every one of my senses, so when I feel the light touch of a calloused hand on my shoulder, electric shock races through my body.  Considering the condition that my barely conscious mind finds myself in, I’m not sure if I should be concerned or grateful that I am not alone.  I didn’t even hear the approach of footsteps, but the rumble of a deep voice reaches my ears.  Before I have a chance to beg for help, a large hand slips under my neck and one under my knees, lifting me from my hell on the ground.  At least I thought that was hell until my bones, my muscles, and even my skin protested the movement.  I open my mouth to scream out from the pain, however, silence is the only thing I hear.  When tears slide down my face, I am furious for being so vulnerable.  Is the person here to help me or hurt me more?  My paranoid thought brings me no peace.  All I feel is agony.  Then I feel nothing.

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~Derek~

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My cabin is nestled in a thick mass of trees that anyone would miss if they didn’t know what they were looking for.  Having a perimeter fence with no trespassing signs usually stops any trespassers, although, sometimes a determined hunter gets through.  It’s the high-tech security system and cameras that prevent anyone from breaching my private domain. 

If the person or people who dumped her body decide to come back and claim their victim, they will have a hell of a time finding her.

With some slight maneuvering, I manage to free one hand to punch in the security code, and my door pops open.  Slipping inside and kicking the door closed, I carefully move up the stairs to my room. 

My unconscious bundle doesn’t make a sound as I lay her on the chaise lounge in the corner, but when I stand back to get a better look, I’m shocked to see that she is not a child but a very petite woman.  She has several cuts on her face, including a gash at her temple, and her entire body doesn’t appear to have a spot unmarred by bruises.  She is covered in dirt and blood, which will increase her risk for infection if the wounds are not cleaned and disinfected. 

Rushing to the adjoining bathroom and starting the bath, I quickly search for supplies.  Unfortunately, I’ve never had a woman here, so I only have supplies that I use.  No fruity smelling soaps or lotions, just Suave shampoo and Dial soap will have to do.  I quickly move into the bedroom to gather the small woman into my arms, hoping she remains unconscious during the torture I’m going to put her through.  If the damage to her body is any indication of how much pain she will be in while I clean and doctor her wounds, she will want to be oblivious.  She whimpers with the slight movement, but when I look down, I notice that she is still out cold.  I carry her into the bathroom, kneel down on one knee by the tub and rest her small body on my leg.  Undressing her from her remaining shredded tank top and cotton shorts, only to realize there is nothing on underneath, sends my pulse into overdrive.  I curse my good and my bad luck at the same time while slowly lowering her into the warm water.  A small sigh escapes her lips; however, she remains unaware while I wash away the grime from her body.  The softness of her creamy skin is decadence for my fingers, but depravity is all I feel as I lightly wash the cuts and bruises. 

My mind and body are at war, and the fact that I haven’t been with a woman in a while, leads me to believe the latter will win the battle eventually.  She is a temptation I didn’t need and one that’s becoming harder to resist by the second.  The sight of her high, firm, breasts, and the absence of hair between her thighs do nothing to calm my raging hormones.  I feel as though God is playing a cruel joke by sending me a beaten and broken woman; one that I’m attracted to and is in need of safety and care.  What would he hope to gain by this? 

I finish cleaning her long, dark hair and lift her out of the tub.  As gently as possible, I carry her into the bedroom and lay her on some towels to wrap her up.  Pulling back the covers, I shift her body to the center and cover her with the comforter, tucking the thick blanket around her small frame.  It doesn’t escape my attention that now she smells like me, and that just feels right.  I need to get my hormones in check because the last thing she needs is to wake up to a strange man drooling all over her.

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~Unknown~

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Excruciating pain in my ribs jerks me awake as calloused hands scoop me up again.  Too afraid to open my eyes, and not entirely sure I can, I let oblivion claim me once more.  I dream of warm water and soft caresses that lap over my tired, sore body.  A picture flashes in my mind of a white sandy beach stretching out behind a beautiful cottage.  The warmth sinking into my bones remind me of basking in the sun and the heat that comes with it.  Where is it? I don’t know or can’t remember, but all too soon the warmth is gone, and I want to cry out for more.  I just can’t seem to make any sound come out of my mouth to ask for anything.  At this point, I would be reduced to begging.  When will this pain end?  What have I done to deserve this kind of fate?

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~Derek~

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Running a disinfectant-soaked cotton ball over all the scratches covering her body leaves very little untouched.  Even marred by cuts and bruises, it’s still the softest skin I’ve ever touched.  As my fingers glide the cotton toward the bottom of her breasts, I choke back a groan.  My mouth waters with a craving to run my tongue all over her berry-colored nipples.  What the hell is wrong with me?  This vulnerable woman is under my care, and all I can think about is molesting her while she sleeps.  A vision of sliding my hand between her thighs while she begs me for more has my cock rising to the occasion.  I blame the lack of female companionship; otherwise, I would have to admit that I am truly demented or must have lost my mind. 

I quickly cover the worst cuts with gauze and medical tape and slip one of my t-shirts gently over her body.  Out of sight out of mind is supposed to help, right?  But seeing her in my clothes does something indescribable to me; some age-old primitive reaction I’ve never felt for any other woman on the planet.  Mine, escapes from my lips, but I have no idea where that came from.  Needing to clear my mind away from this woman, I cover her back up with the bedding and quietly move to the door.  Taking one last look, I turn off the overhead light, leaving only the soft glow from the bedside lamp, and step out.

I’m convinced that fresh air will clear my mind, so I head outside to my bike and grab the supplies I picked up from the little store twenty miles back.  Moving to the deck, I pop open a beer and relax back into the built-in swing.  My thoughts race to what I should do next.  Should I take her to the hospital or contact the police?  My gut instinct screams no.  It seems too suspicious that she ended up on my road in the middle of the mountains.  What if whoever dumped her there comes back with intentions to finish the job?  If they come back only to find her missing, will they search hospitals and police stations to reclaim their victim?  There are so many different scenarios playing out in my head; the decision to wait until she can tell me herself seems like the most logical one.

Chapter Two

Heal:

*to become sound or healthy again.  *alleviate a person’s distress or anguish.  *correct or put right an undesirable situation.

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~Unknown~

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Warm and comfortable, I stir half asleep.  The soft caress of silk slides along my legs as I try to roll over, but the pain in my ribs immediately stops me from moving any further.  My eyes feel as though they weigh a hundred pounds, however, prying them open anyway is necessary.  As my vision clears, the large soft bed in a dimly lit room starts my panic.  My heart begins race, and I feel as though it will jump right out of my chest.

Where the hell am I, who brought me here?  Where is here?  Why can’t I remember my own name?  I slightly recall calloused hands picking me up, the pain that came with movement, and the warmth of the body that held me tight.  I remember a man’s deep voice that calmed me, but I can’t remember my own name.  I try to sit up, but the pain in my ribs limits my movements, so I slowly use my legs to push off the silken covers.  What is wrong with me? My head is still throbbing, so I reach up, relieved that my arms are now working.  My fingers brush over a bandage at my temple, but my mind draws a blank as to how I was injured.  Why can’t I remember what happened to me, or anything for that matter?  Was I in a car accident?  Looking around, my concern only grows when I realize that I am not in a hospital; I’m in a masculine but luxurious room. 

The soreness in my body seems to cover every inch of me, so I slide my hands down my body to check for more injuries.  Thankfully, a soft cotton shirt reaches my thighs; at least I’m not completely naked.  I run my hands along my body as far as they will reach and find more gauze on my arms and upper thighs.  Slowly, I pull the fabric up, moving my hands to my stomach and discover several bandages on my abdomen.  Continuing my upward trek over my breasts to check for damage there, too, and I freeze. 

My attention is drawn to movement to my left, so I slowly turn my head and stare into the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.  I can feel the flush to my skin as heat races from my chest to my face.  Getting caught fondling myself in front of the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen is more than humiliating.  Please let there be a hole nearby so I can crawl inside and never come out.  He just stares at me, mouth open, probably at a loss for words, as am I. 

Slowly pulling the t-shirt back into place, I try to ask where I am, except all I can manage is a whisper of air.  Trying to push sound through my vocal chords feels scratchy, like running my