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There are tiny bits, just seconds, here and there, of memories.
I remember standing somewhere with Dom.
Remember leaning into him. But did we really…?
Dom raises his brows and lifts one of his arms. His left arm. Which he holds in front of him, showing me the thick gold band circling his ring finger.
I shakily raise my hand, diamond facing him.
“We got married,” I squeak.
“We got married.” Dominic, calm as ever, nods his head at my hand. “At least we did it with style.”
I turn my hand back over so I can see the sparkly side. “I…” A laugh bubbles out of me. “Did we seriously do this?”
“We seriously did.”
My eyes bounce back and forth between my diamond and my… husband. My newly wedded husband who seems way too calm.
I drop my hand. “How did this happen?”
“If memory serves, there’s a chapel just a few doors down from the Thai place we were at.” He lifts a shoulder. “I’m guessing drinks, talking about family and good women, may have caused us to be a bit rash.”
“A bit?!” Panic threads through my words. “Dominic, we gotmarried.”
He smirks. “Yeah, we did. Now get over here, wife.”
“Dominic, I need you to be serious.”
“I’m deadly serious, Angel. Now get the fuck over here so we can talk face-to-face.” Dom flips back the blanket so he can sit up. And my mouth goes dry.
He’s wearing boxers. Only boxers. But they’ve ridden up.
And sweet Jesus… His thighs.
I knew they’d be strong and thick with muscles, but seeing them is different from sitting on them. Because they’re also tattooed.
His juicy thighs are fucking tattooed.
I’ve wondered how far down Dominic’s tattoos went. And now I know.
They go all the way down.
More symbols and designs trail from under his boxers, circling his legs down to his ankles.
Dominic pats my empty spot on the mattress, breaking my stare.
The bed hardly feels like safe territory, especially with him looking like that, but my legs are getting cold. And I might be a little insane, but I’m not dead.
I glance at my ring once more, then cross the distance to the bed.
I’m careful as I situate myself, keeping the front of his shirt down as I sit cross-legged facing him. The length is enough to cover the fact that I’m not wearing underwear.
Dom turns so we’re facing each other. “Valentine, remember what I told you about apologizing?”
His question isn’t what I’m expecting, so it takes a moment for me to reply. “You said you never do it.”
Dom nods. “I also don’t lie. And I won’t start doing either now and pretend I’m sorry we did it.” He settles his hand over mine, his thumb nudging the big diamond.
