Chapter 17 Recovery
Recovery
Grant
Why did she use something like “liar” for a safeword?
My fingertips trailed up and down the bumps of her vertebrae as I stared up at the ceiling and kept my other arm tucked behind my head.
Lore nestled even closer to my side, throwing her leg across my hip as her cheek pressed to the back of her hand, which lay on my right pec.
Her other hand slipped beneath my arm and wrapped around my shoulder closest to her.
Honestly, I was a bit shocked to find she was clinging to me like this.
Half of me expected Lore to throw me out on my ass as soon as I cut off the livestream.
Instead, she had hauled me up from the foot of the bed without replacing a single piece of clothing—aside from the mesh bolero that never came off—and situated me where I now lay so she could fall asleep half-draped across my body.
Whatever doubts I had over being her mate were solidly thrown out the window when I knotted her, but instead of the trepidation I expected, all I felt was a bone-deep sense of homecoming.
We weren't bonded yet—neither of us carried each other's mark—but I might as well be.
Lore was not at all what I expected. Looking back on all our interactions now, it was laughable to think she was someone I could convince to fall into whatever trap Andrea tried to set.
Her own bodyguards barely managed to keep Lore out of trouble.
She did whatever the fuck she wanted. Even lying in this bed with her felt like sleeping with a lion.
I was bound to get mauled eventually. But it was well worth the risk, even if she rejected me.
Never in the limited experiences of my life had I met a woman like Lore Brennan, and I would be hard pressed to find another one with this voracious appetite for life.
She was… stunning.
Lying here by her side, touching as much bare skin as possible, my body felt sated and relaxed as my fox reveled in the sensation.
Contentment, maybe for the first time in my life since losing my parents, radiated in my chest and lulled me to a comfortable sleep.
My fox was anxious by nature, always pushing at my skin from the inside to shift and take over, even though the skill itself was challenging for me.
Now it felt at peace, like it had finally wandered into a warm cave from the bitter cold.
It wasn’t like fox shifters were common in the small community.
Of the approximate five percent of the world's population identified as some species of shifter, foxes were less than point-zero-one percent of that.
Maybe it was just the closeness to the same kind of primal that sent this oozing calmness through my veins.
Lore sighed happily and snuggled into my side like she was burrowing in. “Mmmm.” The sound vibrated against my chest, and she pressed those soft lips into my skin. “That was the best sex I’d had in a long time. Which is impressive, by the way.”
Humor lit her tone, but I could feel a scowl lower my brow at the thought of her body count.
I wasn’t delusional in thinking Lore was an inexperienced lover, but my fox growled low at the thought of our mate with anyone else.
The flip in attitude was immediate. I must have been louder than I thought because Lore chuckled lightly and smacked me on the chest. “Aw, is someone jealous?” she teased.
I didn’t like the route this conversation was taking. And I had something else to say, not related to our relationship. “I need to tell you something… about Andrea.”
She scoffed, resting her cheek against my chest again. “Wow, way to ruin the mood. If I had a boner, it would have deflated faster than a balloon stabbed with a knife.”
The unexpected retort forced a surprised laugh from me. “Not a visual I wanted to have, but here we are.”
She grumbled low but didn’t move. “So, tell me what you need to tell me.”
I hated to snuff the post-orgasmic glow around us, but this was important.
I should have led with this before we fucked for an hour.
“Andrea is looking to dismantle the Red Riot. He knows you’re the one who killed Frank.
Along with shutting down the auction, he thinks he has enough to warrant help from the Assembly to launch an all-out war.
I think he’s trying to lure you out and… kill you.”
“I know.”
“You know he’s coming after you, or you know he’s bringing help?”
Lore shifted to prop herself up on an elbow, her hand still resting on my sternum while her fingers drummed restlessly.
“I know he’s running off with his tail between his legs to drag over some friends from overseas to gang up on me with.
There’s someone I’ve been trying to lure out for a while now, and I think Andrea will be able to bring him right to my door. ”
“I’m confused. I thought you were here under an alias. What’s changed?”
Her shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug, and her eyes shifted toward the far wall.
I watched as her stare took on a darkness I’d never seen in them before.
Lore always seemed to have this devil-may-care outlook on life, unaffected by the world she moved through.
For something to haunt her like this… I felt like I had to know.
“Tell me what you’re hiding from.” I kept my voice low, like I was talking to a skittish animal. To soften the blow, I raised my hand to cup her face with all the carefulness of cradling delicate glass. “Whatever you’re carrying, you don’t need to do it alone anymore.”
The rest of the warmth was sucked from her as she tilted her head to stare at me with a blank expression.
Those green eyes flicked all over my face, like she was trying to measure me up.
It hurt a little, for her to let me inside her body but not let me in her head…
or her heart. A growing possessiveness threatened to push out all rational thought.
The possibility of her rejection made me want to sink my teeth deep into the spot at the crook of her neck, where a mating bite would permanently scar and at least force her body to acknowledge she was mine. My mouth watered at the intrusive idea.
Maybe she saw that desperation, too, because she finally sighed and propped her chin on folded hands on top of my chest again. “I’m sure you already dug into who my father is.”
I shook my head.
“Well,” she sighed, like she was weary all the way to her bones.
“Ryan McGregor is not known for being a fatherly figure. Or a good husband. Or even a decent fucking person. His whole identity is being the ruthless boss of the Heathens,” Lore spat the last part as her brow pulled together.
“He beat the shit out of Mom, to the point she just… disappeared when I was fifteen. We always suspected he murdered her, but I never found the proof. Taylor’s mom was a well-known mistress, and she would visit and hang out with us often.
Then she… “ she hesitated, eyes shifting to the side as if she could find the right word to use on her bedside table “Left. Smart lady.”
“Wait,” I balked. “You’re the daughter of Ryan McGregor from Heathens?
Like… the boss of the largest mob in Ireland?
Those Heathens?” The realization made me choke on air and started a coughing fit.
I had to lean to the side and catch my breath while Lore tried to soothe me by patting my back.
“Shit…” I drew the curse out. This was getting more complex by the minute.
I had just fucked the daughter of a brutal mobster, estranged or not, who was, herself, a brutal mobster. It must run in the family.
Lore smothered her laugh into the back of my shoulder. “Yeah, small world, huh?”
“Wow…” I fell onto my back again, trying to gather my spiraling thoughts as I stared at the ceiling.
My left wrist lifted to press against my forehead in an attempt to ground myself.
The short nail of my pointer finger began to pick at my thumb until it caused a hangnail, which I continued to mess with as my anxiety rose.
“I don’t know which is more shocking, who your father is or the fact that Taylor is actually younger than you. ”
“By two years,” Lore’s eyes did a dramatic roll. “Not that he acknowledges that little fact. He was nineteen when he basically told Ryan to go fuck himself and rejected the position as his predecessor for the Heathens. Then he tracked me down in Vegas and hasn’t left me alone since then.”
It felt like Lore was purposely trying to omit an important chunk of this part of her past. Taylor choosing to step down from inheriting the Heathens, one of the most infamous organized crime groups in Ireland, seemed like a drastic life choice.
Not that I was surprised she was overlooked for leadership; women rarely had the chance to be mob bosses, especially among the shifter population.
Her brother was protective to a degree that was borderline obsessive.
Adding to that the layers of fake identities and masks she hid herself behind seemed excessive just to hide from her asshole of a father.
I couldn’t stop myself from looping an arm beneath Lore’s back and scooping her into a tight hug.
“Who are you really hiding from?”
As the last syllable left my lips, I knew it was a mistake.
Every muscle in her body froze, and I went from holding a warm and pliant woman to a stone-cold statue carved in sharp edges.
I think she even stopped breathing for a moment.
Then she pushed up off my chest until she was sitting upright, eyes never leaving mine, as a pained look flashed across her pale face.
As a general rule, I tried to avoid showing fear in the presence of threatening people.
At this very moment in time, I fully expected to have a knife sticking out of my throat with how angry Lore looked with her unblinking stare.
“That’s… none of your feckin’ business,” her brogue came out thick and heavy with emotion and she looked away, avoiding my eyes. She wasn’t quite defensive… but more protective. Again. Like she was protecting me from whatever haunted her past.
“I want it to be my business. I want you to be my business.”
A low growl rumbled in her chest, my hand creeping up to palm the side of her throat and catching the vibration. Her mossy green eyes narrowed to slits. If she really wanted to get out of my reach she could, so she wasn’t trying that hard. “You are incredibly annoying, you know that?”
The snide comment brought a full-blown smile to my face. “Maybe. At least you’re aware of the fact you can’t get rid of me so easily.”
My thumb brushed along her tense jaw as I watched her face shift from frustration, to hesitation, and finally acceptance.
It was kind of cute watching her brow smooth out one wrinkle at a time.
When I was sure she wouldn’t rip my throat out, I reached around to pull her closer by the nape of her neck and tucked her head under my chin, wrapping her up in both arms as she settled against me.
Sex with Lore was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
But this feeling of her soft skin pressed against mine, her breath fluttering across my collarbones, this sense of being whole and complete with her in my arms…
it terrified me how much influence Lore had over me in the short time I’d known her.
Never would I have imagined experiencing having a mate.
Now I couldn’t imagine a life without her.
I would give up anyone and anything to keep Lore.
After a few moments of tense silence, something in Lore shifted.
She became a little softer, loosening to let herself rest fully on top of me.
I felt the soft brush of her thigh against my hip as she shifted even closer and tunneled her hands beneath my shoulders, curling her fingers to press into the skin there.
My dick made a valiant effort to harden with a twitch she didn’t seem to notice.
Still, I took her relaxation as a sign to settle in and reach my free hand down to pin her leg in place with a sure grip.
“Fine,” her murmur was half-muffled by my throat. “But it’s a shitty story. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Lore began to talk, haltingly at first, and then faster until it was a constant stream of consciousness. And I listened to every word until the bitter end.