Dom (Alliance, #3)

by S.J. Tilly

Relatives are the people we’re born with. Family are the people we chose to keep around.

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.

Something about this man tells me he doesn’t write his name on his luggage. He probably just narrows his eyes at his suitcase, daring it to get lost.

“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?

“I was always warned about taking candy from strangers,” I murmur, even as I take it. “Good thing it’s not candy,”

“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.

“Yeah, Valentine. And when you do things with purpose, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“If they’re anything like you, I’m sure they’re lovely.” Dom’s face contorts into a look of disgust. “Lovely? Clearly I’m giving you the wrong impression if you think I’m lovely.”

“Keep teasin’ me, see where it gets you.” Pretty please, let it be pinned to his bed.

“I need a taste of you, Angel. A taste of whatever you’ll give me.” My eyes immediately jump to the abstract drawing of a pair of boobs on the wall. Dom groans. “Fuck, Valentine, I’d kill for just a kiss. But I’ll taste those too if you let me.”

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

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear when I tattooed your name across my fucking throat. This”—I tap the letters—“is so everyone knows who I belong to.” I’ve never given someone this sort of claim over me, and it feels fantastic. “And inking the last words of my vow to you above my fucking dick.” I reach down and cup my hand over the front of my pants. “That’s all for you, Angel. So when you’re ready to wrap those lips around my cock and take me into your throat, you’ll be eye level with my promise to you. Even on your knees, I’ll still be yours.”

“There was no fighting me, Valentine. You’re mine. There is nothing you could have done to make that not true.”

He fixed what was broken and made it better.

The bright white bandage on his chest reminds me how close I came to losing him. And when he turns to climb onto the bed, the white bandage on his back reminds me that he took those bullets to save me. He risked his life to protect mine. And that’s what matters. Not how we started. Not his motivations. Not any of what happened before. What matters is what happens now. What happens next.

“It’s come to my attention that you’re all under the false assumption that I do bad things.” He tips his head. “Okay, well, I do some bad things, but only to bad people. I’m not the man you’re looking for.”