Dom (Alliance, #3)

by S.J. Tilly

My dad is a liar. My mom is a liar. I think I have siblings. But I think they hate me. And I don’t want to be hated. I just want to be loved.

“Anytime, Valentine.” I bite my bottom lip. “My friends call me Val.”

“Dominic Gonzalez.” He closes his fingers around mine. “But my friends call me Dom.”

Forty-one to my twenty-five. A sixteen-year age gap isn’t too much, is it?

“Make me happy, Angel.” I glance back up, finding his blue eyes locked on mine. “Let me feed you. Eat your treat.”

“Is this you leaning in?” I whisper. He smirks. “You’re getting it now, Mama.” Mama. Jesus. Fucking. Christ.

“If you’d’ve given me a nickname to work with, I would’ve used it. But it appears that only one of us is feeling the endearments. And, wife”—he cuts me a look—“if you’re Shorty, then I’m Big Guy.”

“A toast.” I pick up my drink and tap it against Dom’s. “To good women.” His voice is low. “To leaning in,” I reply.

“Don’t raise your voice around my wife.”

“I’ve done bad things, Valentine.” I brush my lips over her pinkened cheek. “But I’ll always be good to you.”

And the urge to apologize, for the first time in twenty years, grips at my throat.

“You’re worth more than everything I have,”

“Be a good wife and stay inside. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t even remember who I was before I loved you, Mrs. Gonzalez.”