Killians masterpiece, p.1
Killian's Masterpiece, page 1
part #1 of The Celtic Demons Series
Killian’s Masterpiece
Jill Shannon
Blushing Books
Contents
What’s Inside
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
Jill Shannon
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Shannon, Jill
Killian’s Masterpiece
EBook ISBN: 978-1-61258-776-9
Cover Design by ABCD Graphics
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books’ or the author’s advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.
What’s Inside
Picking her up in his arms, Killian stepped into the tub and sank down with Rachel on his lap. Water flowed up the sides, almost leaving the tub to land on the floor. Seating her comfortably between his legs, he picked up the loofah and poured the coconut fragrant shower gel on it.
Rachel reclined back against Killian’s chest, melting down into the hot water, letting it relax all of her sore muscles. She had originally needed to relax after her introduction to Killian, but after their session in her bed, she really needed to destress.
Killian began lathering her body as he glided the loofah slowly and methodically along her chest and shoulders, down her arms and across her stomach. Dipping it under the water, he slid the loofah between her legs.
The coarseness of the material rubbing along her swollen clit had Rachel’s body pushing against Killian’s hand. As she pushed up against his hand, he moved the loofah back up her stomach to her chest. Rachel looked over her shoulder at him with a questioning look.
“Are you in the bath to get fucked or are you in it to relax? Once you are clean and relaxed, I will take you back into the bedroom and give you what you need. For now, sit back and let me take care of you.”
Rachel leaned back into his chest and tried to unwind, resting her head on his shoulder. Never trusting anyone but her father, she honestly had no idea what it meant to let go in the presence of others, especially an alpha male like Killian. He began to let the water dribble out of the loofah over her ample chest and erect nipples. Closing her eyes, she allowed Killian into a place no other man had ever been. She began to visualize what it would be like if this man was a part of her life. Someone to come home to every day, someone to talk to, someone who would give a shit about her if anything went wrong with one of her jobs. The more time Rachel spent with Killian, the more she thought of him as someone who would fit perfectly into her life. There were just a few obstacles in their path, however. Her father’s obsession to dismantle any motorcycle club he encountered, her profession as an art thief, and the fact that Rachel believed that Killian’s motorcycle club was, in fact, the one responsible for the crates going missing from the ‘La Bambina.’
Rachel gave in to her body’s need and relaxed when Killian leaned his head down and started feathering kisses along her neck up to her jawline, ending at her ear. He grazed his tongue along the outer shell of her ear then gently nipped down on her lobe. Soaping his hands, he moved them down along her arms, then down further under the water to her legs. Latching onto her legs, grabbing behind her knees, he lifted her, and with some help from Rachel, he turned her, so she was now straddling his rock-hard erection. Lowering her onto his cock had Rachel expelling the breath she had been holding. When Killian was seated deeply within her silky-smooth walls, he held her in place, letting her become accustomed to his length and width.
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Chapter 1
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘it’s all gone’?” Anthony Santoro screamed at the man standing in front of him. “You had one fucking job to do—watch the shipment get loaded into the truck. Did you watch it?” The man’s head nodded in agreement. “Then you drove it here, correct?” Again, an affirmative head nod. “No stops along the way?” Anthony’s voice laced with sarcasm; another head nod. Anthony was now standing behind him. Grabbing a hand full of hair, he yanked the man’s head back, spit hitting his face as Anthony growled each word, “Then where is my fucking delivery?”
“I swear to God, boss, it was there. You saw the crates. How was I supposed to know the stuff wasn’t what it was supposed to be?” The man sobbed, “I did just what you told me to do.”
“Who else was there?” Santoro moved back to his seat behind his desk.
“The guy running the forklift, a security guard, and some dock hand.” Sitting a little straighter in his own chair, the man answered the question.
“Where was the captain?”
“I didn’t see the captain.”
Santoro turned his head to the right. “Find out where that motherfucker is and bring him to me. Now!” he shouted.
The man in the chair began to rise. “Not you, asshole. Sit down, we are not finished here.” Turning to his left, he ordered, “Bring her to me. Now!” Santoro watched as the men he instructed moved to do his bidding, leaving the man in the chair. “Tell me again, from the time you parked your ass at the dock till you put the truck in park. Everything.” He got up from his chair, moving to the bar under the window, pouring two glasses of scotch. Walking back to the man in the chair, he handed him a glass, then walked back to the window. Raising the glass to his mouth, he said, “Begin.”
“Well, I left my house at eleven o’clock, stopped for gas and coffee. I got to the dock right on time. The security guard escorted me right to the pier; he told me to wait in the truck. He needed to do something with the surveillance. I watched him go into a shack. When he came out, he flagged me to where the shipment was waiting. I backed the truck up; the forklift guy loaded all the crates. They closed and locked the back door, banged twice on the side, and I left. I drove straight here. No stops along the way. I swear, boss.”
“Did it ever occur to you to get out of the truck to see what they were loading?” Santoro questioned from his position by the windows.
“No, boss. They seemed to know what they were doing, so I followed their lead. The security guard didn’t seem to want me to get out. So, I stayed in the truck. I knew that whatever I was getting for you wasn’t any of my business, either. Figured if I stayed in the truck, I made everyone happy.” The man put a half smile on his face trying to make light of the situation he was in.
Anthony Santoro turned from the window. The sleeves from his white button-down shirt were rolled to his elbows and it was opened wide at the collar. His creased black slacks brushed the tops of his black Armani wingtips. The Don for the Santoro family stood at six-foot. Although nearing his late seventies, he still held the physique of a forty-year-old. His penetrating black eyes held years of knowledge. The one feature on the man that showed his age was his full head of salt and pepper hair. Raising the glass to his mouth, he finished the scotch. “So, in your estimation, you are not responsible for the loss of my shipment; you were just following direction. Correct?” The underline of anger could be heard as Anthony asked his question.
“Well? Technically, yes.” The man gave him another half-smile. Putting the glass to his lips, he threw his head back, drinking its contents. “Whew, that is mighty smooth scotch. What’s the name of it?” He was asking to bring Santoro’s focus to something other than himself.
“You must really think I’m an imbecile. You volunteered for this job. Everything that she has gathered for the past three years is gone, you fucking piece of shit.” He turned towards the door and yelled, “Rocco?” Within seconds, a huge man entered the door frame. “Take this piece of shit downstairs. Keep him alive until I tell you otherwise.”
The man in the chair threw himself on the floor at his feet, saying, “I swear. I had nothing to do with this. I was just trying to get your attention, to move up in the ranks. God, please, sir, you have to believe me.” Pleading on his knees, he went on. “On my mother’s grave, I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Have no fear; as long as I can recover my property, I will let you live. Until then, Rocco will teach you what it means to disappoint me.” With that said, he turned his attention back to the windows.
Rocco dragged the man from the room kicking and screaming, past a raven-haired beauty as she came down the stairs, followed by the man sent to get her.
Anthony looked up when she walked in the room. “Close the doors as you leave, Dante.” Walking to meet her in the center of the room, he took both her hands and brought them to his lips. “You look lovely, my dear, all set for your vacation?”
Moving in to kiss both of his cheeks, she whispered, “Don’t blow smoke up my ass, old man. I heard you all the way to my room. There’s not a shot in Hell you’re letting me take a vacation, but this one is going to cost you big time.” She leaned back with a broad smile on her flawless face. Moving around Anthony, she walked to the bar. Pouring herself a drink, she turned her attention back to him as he sat down behind the desk. How many times had Rachel been summoned to this room? She remembered the first time, standing in the double door entry. His desk had seemed so far away sitting central in the room, a fire had been burning in the fireplace off to the right side, a wall of books covered the other. The long red velvet curtains had been closed, allowing the fire to light the room. Everything had seemed so scary. Now, when she was summoned, she held more power, so the room held no intimidation to her anymore. She knew, this time, she would be able to request anything, and he would have to grant it, that is if he truly wanted his shipment back. Sitting in the chair the man had vacated, she stretched one long leather encased leg across the other. The red tips of her long dark hair flowed over her ample chest. Drink poised in her hand, a grin on her face, she said, “So, old man, you lost your shipment, huh?” She put the glass to her red painted lips, drinking, leaving a perfect lip residue in its wake. Leaning forward, both feet in her stiletto boots hit the floor. She placed her elbows on her knees, cradling her drink between her two hands. Focusing her mocha brown eyes on his, she said, “What the fuck happened?”
“Watch your tone, little lady. Don or father, either one, I deserve your respect.”
“I’m sorry, Father. What happened?” she asked, taking the angry edge out of her voice, but it still held a sarcastic undertone. “If I had wrapped them in Christmas packaging with bows, I couldn’t have made this any easier. Everything was put on the ship. I watched it myself.”
“Apparently, sometime in between you leaving it on the ship and dumb ass going to get it, everything was fucking stolen.”
Rachel clucked, “It’s kind of ironic, you saying it was stolen from you.” She finished her drink, placing the glass on the table next to her. “What do you want me to do?” She relaxed back in the chair.
“I sent Vito to get the captain. That scum bag disappeared; he was supposed to be there for the pick-up. They should be here any moment, and we should have some answers.”
As he finished his statement, a commotion was heard in the foyer. The doors to Anthony’s office were flung open as a bloody man was tossed onto the floor. “Well, well, Captain Humphrey. I hope I didn’t interrupt your homecoming, but you seem to have misplaced the shipment I placed in your capable hands. Can you explain that?” Anthony had risen from his chair and walked around his desk. Rachel, as well, rose to look upon the captain lying on the floor. Anthony looked to where Vito was standing, directing his next question to him, “Where did you find him?”
“He checked into some ratty motel. Wasn’t even smart enough to use a fake name. Dip shit,” Vito said as he walked to the bar.
Anthony walked to where the captain lay on the floor. The tips of Anthony’s shoes were grazing his fingers. “So, now, Captain, would you like to tell me how twenty million dollars’ worth of specially crafted, cushioned, sealed crates disappeared from your cargo hold? Oh, and not just one, but all forty-five of them!” Anthony was leaning over him yelling. “Did you know they were replaced and that is why you were going into hiding?”
Rachel had retrieved a bottle of water from the small refrigerator, placing it on the floor next to the captain, then she stood next to him. “Captain, did you know what was in the crates you transported for us?” She moved back to lean on the chair, watching as the captain got to his knees and guzzled the water down.
When he was finished, he looked up at Anthony, one of his eyes already closing, and pleaded, “I swear on my mother, I had no idea what I was transporting. I had no clue they had been replaced. When I got to port, Larry, the security guard, told me that, as an added bonus, there was a woman waiting for me at the motel Vito found me in. So, I went. Everything was perfect until your muscle over there interrupted everything. Told the chick to leave and then started beating the hell out of me. That’s all I know.” Tears were leaking down his cheeks as he kneeled on the floor.
Anthony looked at Rachel. “What do you think? Is he telling the truth? Because if he is telling the truth, then, my lovely daughter, the burden falls to you. You were the last one to see them before they shipped. You knew how they would be sealed and crated. So, tell me, Rachel, who do I believe?”
“You have to be fucking kidding me?” Rachel stood, her five-foot-seven-inch height enhanced by her four-inch stiletto heels. Hands on her hips facing her father, she said, “For the past three years, I have scoured, hunted, and searched for every piece on that fucking list for you. Are you really standing there questioning my loyalty?” She emphasized her question by pointing her finger at herself.
“What am I supposed to think? Your reward for a job well done would have been retirement.” Anthony had turned his body, so he was now facing his daughter. “As much as it would have pained me to let you go, Vito would have been devastated. Isn’t that right, Vito?”
“That’s right, Mr. Santoro,” Vito chimed in, a smug smile on his face.
Chills ran over Rachel’s body. There was nothing physically wrong with Vito. In fact, the man was gorgeous. Tall, dark hair, piercing blue eyes, his shoulders filled the jacket he was wearing without padding, and even with her heels on, he still towered over her. However, the psyche of the man was something totally different. This was a man who liked to hurt people. It didn’t matter who they were—man, woman, child, animal—if Vito was told to take care of it, he did. He enjoyed inflicting pain, and he didn’t hide it. From the time she had started to develop, she had been threatened with being given to Vito. Her father knew how much she feared that happening, so she was always available when her father needed her special talent. This was supposed to have been her last job; he had promised. “I completed my end of the bargain. I made sure everything was there. Do you think I would have been stupid enough to come back here and pack if I had stolen your shipment?”
