59. Dominic
CHAPTER 59
Dominic
JEWELRY AND PAPERWORK
6 MONTHS LATER
“ S heriff Alvarez has a nice ring to it.”
Ellie's arms are looped around my neck, her body pressed against mine, making it nearly impossible to keep my dick from twitching in a room full of people. I clear my throat and glance around the station, packed with the majority of the sheriff’s department, city staff, and a few local reporters here to celebrate my new position. Tomorrow we’re celebrating with friends and family, but today is for the official stuff.
“Have I told you how sexy you look in that dress, Mrs. Alvarez?” I whisper in her ear, letting my hand travel to inappropriately low levels on her back, resting on the swell of her ass.
She blushes, still getting used to the name, even though I call her by it all the damn time.
As soon as I was coherent enough, I asked Jack for permission to marry his daughter. I’d learned my lesson—no more wasting time .
He laughed and told me when he said he didn’t want me to rush into marriage with Ellie, he never meant for me to wait this long. Then, without hesitation, he gave me his blessing.
He told me I never needed his permission—that he’d always seen me as a son and couldn’t wait to officially call me family.
I might’ve cried.
He might’ve too.
We blamed it on the dry hospital air.
After I got released, it felt silly to wait to get married. So, two months after we survived the worst ordeal of our lives, we finally did it, and it was fucking perfect. But one of my favorite parts of the entire day happened right after we left the courthouse…
“This marriage better last, because I don’t do refunds,” Ray grumbles as he finishes the tattoo on my wife’s left ring finger.
My wife.
Fuck, I love the sound of that. Wife. The word I’ve been wanting to call her nearly my entire life—it’s surreal. I keep waiting to wake up because if this is a dream, I never want it to end.
Ellie laughs, shaking her head as she inspects the ink. “You sure about that? What if he turns out to be a terrible husband?”
Ray snorts, eyes flicking to me briefly. “Then you call me and I’ll straighten him out. I may be an old man, but I ain’t that old.”
He aims a wink my way as I squeeze Ellie’s knee, my thumb brushing the inside of her thigh. “Not happening. It’s lasting. Forever.”
Her gaze lifts to mine, her eyes soft, smile sure—like she already knew what I was going to say. Because she did. Because for all the ways we’ve gotten things wrong in the past, this—us—is the one thing we’re finally getting right.
Instead of the grand, over-the-top wedding everyone probably expected—the kind Ellie has famously spent her career planning—with a fancy cake, opulent floral arrangements, and hundreds of guests—we walked into the courthouse, signed a few papers, and walked out as husband and wife.
I would’ve given heranything she wanted. A ballroom, a beach, a destination wedding on a mountainside. But what she wanted was this. Quiet. Just us. No fuss, no audience, no pressure to put on a show.
She told me that after years of planning other people’s happily ever afters, she realized the performance of it all wasn’t for her. That a big wedding would’ve been for everyone else—not for us. And after all this time, after everything we’d been through, we weren’t interested in waiting any longer.
So we didn’t.
But before the honeymoon can begin, I wanted to make our union a little more permanent than paperwork and jewelry. And luckily, Ray was more than happy to come out of retirement for one more job. For the right price, of course.
Ellie admires her hand, staring at the simple black band now permanently on her finger.
“Well, does the husband approve?” Ray asks me.
Tipping my face down to Ellie, I cradle her jaw in my hands. “Fuck yeah I approve.” I crash my lips to hers, branding her with a kiss.
Ray groans. “Jesus, I’m gonna hurl. Get out of here, lovebirds.”
My beautiful wife laughs against my mouth and turns to give Ray an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Ray.”
In her distraction I move to scoop her up, carrying her bridal-style. She squeals as I do. “You’re supposed to carry me over the threshold, not just randomly,” she argues, even though I know she loves it.
Despite my shoulder still healing, I barely feel it, too excited, too happy to give a damn .
Ray kindly holds the door open for us, giving us a good-natured eye roll as we pass. I jog with her in my arms, loving the feel of her smooth legs in my hands.
We may have kept the wedding low-key, but Ellie looks absolutely stunning. Her short white dress hugs her waist before flaring at the hips, the thick straps slipping off her shoulders just enough to draw attention to her delicate neck and cleavage. It shows off her long, lean legs, and the second she walked downstairs, all I wanted to do was throw her over my shoulder and strip her out of it.
It was a long road getting here, but we finally got it right, because she’s mine forever now, and I’m never taking that for granted.
When we reach my patrol SUV, I set her down, holding the back door open to see if she notices.
She does.
“No way. I’m never getting in the back of that thing again.”
I laugh, remembering how angry she was when I arrested her. “Not even for old times’ sake?”
Stepping close, her chest brushes against mine. “The only way I’ll crawl back there, is if you join me.” She grabs the collar of my button-down, drawing me down, our lips nearly touching. “Preferably in uniform.”
“That can be arranged, querida mía.” I dissolve the distance between us, planting a hot kiss on her gorgeous mouth.
Ellie smiles, glancing down at her ring finger again. I put my own hand out next to hers, the skin around the fresh ink still red from the needle. Out of everything, for whatever reason, this makes it feel the most official. Permanent.
“So, husband, what now?”
I pull her in, pressing my lips to her ear. “Now, Mrs. Alvarez, I take you back to our house and show you exactly how good of a husband I can be. ”
She grins, circling her arms around my neck. “Hmm. I don’t know. You might have to work pretty hard to convince me.”
I smirk, lifting her off her feet. “I promise I’ll be a good boy.”
Tomorrow we’re leaving for Western Europe for a month-long honeymoon, the trip we never took all those years ago. But tonight, we’re celebrating in the house we’re making a home. An old house that looked like it was well past salvaging, but underneath it all, the foundation was solid.
With my wife by my side, I look around the room at the deputies and staff happily chatting. Gone is the dark cloud that plagued the department in the aftermath of Ryker’s crimes. Instead, there’s a sense of excitement—of new beginnings.
Six months ago, I wouldn't have believed this moment was possible.
Ryker’s arrest shattered Red Mountain, and putting the pieces back together has been slow, painful work. People were left feeling betrayed and confused. Beneath the polished exterior he presented, there was a closet overflowing with skeletons. According to information from the FBI and a few psychiatric evaluations, they believe Claire leaving him was his breaking point. When the illusion of his perfect life began to unravel, something in him fractured.
A part of me had always known Ryker harbored feelings for Ellie, but I never could’ve imagined the depths of his fixation or the darkness it would unleash. When he lost both Claire and Victoria, his long buried obsession with her worsened. The investigation is ongoing, but Claire and Victoria’s resemblance to Ellie doesn’t feel like a coincidence.
It’s been hard not to feel some level of blame. There were signs, and I failed to see them until it was too late.
Ellie’s been drowning in guilt ever since everything came to light, blaming herself for Victoria’s death. For that reason alone, I wish I’d just killed him.
She has nothing to feel guilty about. Ryker was sick. This was his fault—his alone. I don’t know if she’ll ever fully move past the trauma he inflicted. But I’ll be by her side, every step of the way. We started therapy, both separately and together. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure this doesn’t consume her.
And through all of it, crime didn’t stop. Clore County still needed a sheriff. The Board of County Commissioners appointed Doyle as interim sheriff, but with his retirement around the corner, he had no interest in keeping the job long term. To my surprise, he encouraged me to run. So I did, not thinking I’d actually win.
I didn’t take into account how the media would spin things, making me look like the hero who took down a sheriff who’d gone off the rails.
When the emergency special election was held, I ran unopposed. Today, we’re celebrating. And while it feels strange to celebrate something I was practically handed, I’m trying to embrace it and show up with the kind of presence this role deserves.
Ellie, still wrapped around me, pulls back slightly, her grin fading when she notices my expression. “You don't look like you're having fun.”
“It’s uncomfortable,” I admit. “Hard to celebrate something when it doesn’t feel like I truly earned it.”
“Hey,” she protests. “You absolutely deserve it.” Her voice softens, and there’s warmth in her eyes that makes my chest tighten. “Look at everyone here, happily celebrating your big win. They're proud of you.”
“Maybe.” I let my hands slide from her waist and step back, though it takes more willpower than I’d like to admit. “But right now, I’d rather be celebrating with you—alone.”
She doesn't need more encouragement .
Taking my hand, she tugs me toward the hallway.
“Where are we going?” I ask, even though I have a pretty good idea.
“You'll see.”
We slip out the back, the noise from the party fading as we step into my new office.
She shuts the door behind us, locking it with an audible click.
The old me would not be down for this, but Ellie’s impulsive streak has started to rub off on me.
Sneaking away with my wife on my first day on the job, is probably a terrible idea. But if there’s anyone worth breaking rules for—even laws—it’s her.
“You know, this is how rumors start.” I lean against my desk as she eats up the distance between us.
Her fingers toy with the new, shiny badge pinned to my chest. “Let them talk.”
“You say that now?—”
She silences me with a kiss, her hands tangling in my hair. It's slow and teasing, just enough to drive me wild without giving me what I really want.
“This is criminal behavior,” I say under my breath as she pulls away.
Her brow arches, lips curling into a smile. “Maybe you should do something about it.”
Fuck, this woman. A goddamn dream girl.
I reach for my belt, unclipping the handcuffs. Her eyes flick to them, curiosity and amusement sparking.
“Are you going to arrest me, Sheriff Alvarez ?”
God, I love it when she calls me that. Her voice is like velvet, teasing me. Fucking intoxicating.
“Is that what you want, Mrs. Alvarez? Have you been breaking the law?”
I move around her, clasping one cuff around her wrist .
“So many laws,” she breathes. “I need to be punished.”
If anyone is on the other side of this door, they probably think they’re listening to a cheesy porn, but I don’t give a shit. I’m just weak enough to admit, this totally does it for me. And she knows it.
“Don’t worry, querida mía, I’ll punish you so good.” I tell her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve been a bad girl, dragging a law enforcement official behind closed doors, against his will.”
Her laughter fills the room. “Against your will? Hardly. What are you going to do about it?” She raises her brow in challenge but her body is already more pliable against mine.
I grab the wrist that’s cuffed and press it up against the wall and lean closer, my lips hovering just above hers. “Do you want me to fully cuff you? Restrain you where you can’t move?”
She nods as her body curves to me. “Yes,” she says breathlessly. “I need it.”
In one fluid motion, I spin her to face the wall, and cuff her other wrist, just like I did when I actually arrested her.She tests the restraint, and looks at me over her shoulder,her smirk growing.
“Did you wear this dress for easy access?” I start lifting the hem, letting my hands drag over the round of her ass.
She responds by sticking it out further.
“You know I did.” She moans as I drag her thong down and let a finger glide at the center of her pussy.”
“Tan mojada que eres.” (You’re so wet)
Her legs begin to shake. “Dominic, baby, give me what I want.”
With her dress gathered at her waist, I let my hands wander around her hips and to the front, near her pussy, but not close enough.
“Beg, more querida mía. ”
“Please,” she squirms.
I tug on the cuffs, forcing her to arch back. “If I fuck you in here, you have to be quiet.”
“I can be quiet,” she sighs.
My head shakes, and even though she can’t see me, I know she feels the movement.
“I don’t think you can. That mouth of yours doesn’t know how to be quiet.”
The panties she was wearing are in my pocket, so I retrieve them. “Open those pretty red lips for me.”
She does it without hesitation, letting me stuff her mouth full of lace.
The sight of her cuffed and gagged, her body trembling with anticipation, sends a surge of heat straight through me. I take a steadying breath, my fingers grazing the curve of her ass as I lean in close to whisper against her ear. “You look so fucking pretty like this,” I murmur low and husky. “You better hope no one catches us because I can’t have anyone seeing my wife in this state.” She writhes, fighting the cuffs. “Can’t let anyone find out what a filthy girl you are. No panties, cuffed, pussy so wet it’s running down your legs.”
She lets out a muffled whimper, her body pressing back against mine, begging.
Her muffled protests vibrate against the lace in her mouth, her wrists straining lightly against the cuffs. I smile, knowing she's not going anywhere—and knowing she loves every second of this.
“Patience, querida mía.” My hands glide over her hips, brushing close to where she aches but not giving in. “You know I like taking my time.”
Her legs tremble again, and I can feel the heat radiating off her as she rests her cheek to the cool wall. I press my lips against her shoulder, taking in the sight of her. She's beautiful, desperate, and entirely mine.
I finally let my fingers drift to where she's wet and waiting, stroking her lightly. She moans around the gag, her body melting in response, and I can't stop the growl that escapes me.
“Quiet,” I remind her, using my on-duty voice. “Unless you want someone walking in and seeing you like this.”
She glances back at me over her shoulder, her eyes widening slightly. The spark of excitement in them tells me she's not entirely opposed to the idea.
I unfasten my pants, my cock rock hard and ready for her. “Damn it, Ellie,” I mutter, half-laughing as I give myself a firm stroke before sliding into her completely, filling her to the hilt. Her muffled cries threaten to break my resolve, and I have to steel myself to keep the pace slow and controlled. “You're pussy has ruined me.”
Her body responds to every thrust, and the sound of her soft moans—despite the gag—drives me closer to the edge. I pull her hips back against me, my grip straining as I move deeper, harder, savoring the way she shudders.
When I finally let her come undone, her cries are an intoxicating muffle. I watch as her body goes taut, shakingwith release, and I follow soon after, my breath ragged as I press my forehead to her shoulder.
For a moment, we're both still, the only sound our heavy breathing. I reach for the cuffs, unlocking them with a quick click, and she slumps against me, her legs barely holding her up.
I pull the gag from her mouth, and she gasps, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she turns to look at me.
“That was fucking hot. We’re definitely doing that again.”
I chuckle, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “One-time deal, Ellie girl.”
She pouts, but there’s nothing behind it. I think we both know having sex in my office was a little too reckless, even for us.
“Come on.” I straighten her dress and tuck her panties back into my pocket with a smirk. “We should get back before anyone notices we're missing.”
She nods, still catching her breath, and I help her steady herself before unlocking the door.
Stepping into the hallway, the noise of the party greets us. I glance at her, a satisfied smile tugging at my lips, and hand in hand, we head back to the celebration, leaving our little secret behind.
I’ve been keeping a secret.
Ellie’s head rests on my chest, her body nestled against mine, our legs a comfortable tangle beneath the sheets. She’s breathing steady and slow, already drifting to sleep. Meanwhile, my heart is doing the opposite—racing with excitement.
While we were celebrating me becoming the new sheriff, Ariana texted me to let me know the finishing touches were complete.
I’d hired Ethan’s contractor to finish the bulk of the renovations on Sullivan Ridge House—most of which are still in progress—but there was one room I kept off-limits. One space I didn’t trust to anyone but me. I may not be as skilled as my dad was, but I wasn’t about to let anyone else build my girl her dream library.
Keeping it from her was a gamble, and I’m lucky it worked out. I blamed it on asbestos, told her the contractor had to keep the doors sealed for safety. A total lie, considering I’d already had the house treated months ago. But Ellie bought it. Between her work days and my late shifts, I carved out hours where I could—building shelves, sanding, staining—doing as much as possible with very little time.
Once the room was done, I called in Ariana. I figured with her book-themed coffee shop, she was the perfect person to help me furnish and decorate the space.
I took a peek at it when we got home, and even though I told myself I would wait until tomorrow morning to surprise her with it, I’m not sure I can wait that long.
Ellie stirs slightly, in that hazy in-between state where she’s awake, but only barely. She’s tired—completely wrung out from my inability to keep my hands off her.
“Mmm,” she hums, stroking her hand up and down my bare chest, nuzzling my neck. “You’re so warm.”
Probably because I’m close to sweating, worried she won’t like it.
My mouth opens and closes a few times, debating whether I should force her out of bed, when it can definitely wait until tomorrow.
It’s not like it’s an emergency.
“I have something to tell you…”
She goes rigid in my arms and I immediately wish I had worded that differently.
“Shit, sorry. That came out wrong.”
Seconds pass before Ellie moves to sit up, the sheets slipping off her naked body, revealing her breasts. Two perfect handfuls. For a moment, I forget why she sat up in the first place.
Her pinched, sleepy face looks at me, adorably confused and maybe a little angry.
She’s so sexy when she’s mad.
“Spill. Because not a lot of good things start with I have something to tell you . ”
I laugh. “Nothing bad.” My chest constricts. She’s probably going to like it, but just the thought of disappointing her has my nerves standing on end. “I have a surprise for you.”
In a flash, her face morphs, a delighted smile lighting her face. Her chin dips, almost shy. “What kind of surprise?”
“Come on.” I move to stand. “Let me show you.”
She practically jumps out of bed, and much to my disappointment, slips on a black silk robe, covering up all her delicious creamy skin.
I drag her out by hand, guiding her through the darkness of our home.
The main level is mostly done, aside from a few finishing touches. We’ve got a working kitchen, a real dining room, and a living room that finally has more than just lawn chairs.
When I bought this place, I hoped it might help pave a path back to Ellie. But it wasn’t until she actually came back that things started to turn around. The house went from a mess to actual potential. Like maybe it had been waiting for her—just like I was.
Sometimes it felt like the house had a life of its own, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t put it back together until things were right with us. It was never supposed to be just mine. It was always meant to be ours.
“This house is still kind of spooky,” she says quietly.
“Shhh,” I hiss. “It’ll hear you.”
Her breath is on the back of my neck as she giggles, pressing a palm to my shoulder.
When we reach the closed pocket doors, I step in front of them and blow out an exhale.
Even in darkness, I can see the bright excitement in her eyes, glowing from the moonlight shining through the stained glass windows.
“Before I show you,” I start, trying to stall. “If you don’t like it, we can change it. Nothing is permanent. And go easy on me, I did this one myself. No contractors. Just me.”
The edges of her smile soften, and her head tilts. “I’m going to love it.” Then her face twists with amusement. “Is it a sex room? Trying to determine what my excitement level should be.”
I huff a laugh. Only my Ellie girl. I think she has a pretty good idea what I’m about to show her, but she’s trying to put me at ease.
We both know what I always promised this room would be.
Rather than answer her, I move my hands behind me and slide open the double pocket doors.
The sound that follows can only be described as shock.
She gasps loudly, and her hands immediately fly to her mouth, cupping it in disbelief.
I flick on the chandelier light, revealing the library—wall-to-wall built-in bookcases to match the home’s architecture. The rich wood shelves stretch from floor to ceiling. A rolling ladder rests along one wall. The shelves are adorned with books and touches of decor Ariana meticulously picked out with Elyse in mind, all anchored by a dark beautiful antique rug and a velvet arm chaise lounge in the middle.
“How?” She turns to face me. “When?”
I shove my hands in the pockets of my sweatpants. “Do you like it?” I swallow roughly.
“Like it?” Before I register her movement, her arms are around my neck, yanking me down as her lips crash to mine. Her kiss is deep and slow. When she breaks it, our foreheads stay resting against each other. “I can’t believe you did all of this.”
The thickness in her voice makes my chest swell. “I promised you I would. ”
“I know, but I never expected you to do it with your bare hands. You already work so hard.”
I tuck a loose strand of her hair back and gently smooth over her cheek. “A promise is a promise.”
She flashes me her gorgeous smile before going to inspect the mostly empty shelves. Ariana moved in Ellie’s books but there’s still plenty of room to grow.
“This is it,” she calls out. “I found the spot.”
My eyes narrow, confused. “What spot? Did I miss an area? It can be fixed.”
When she spins to face me her eyes are bright with anticipation, lips caught between a smile and a smirk. She points to the bottom row of the bookshelf closest to the window seat. “This is where we can put the nursery rhymes. It’s the perfect spot, don’t you think?”
Now I’m even more confused. “Since when do you read nursery rhymes? Is that some new kinky genre I don’t know about?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “And you call yourself the sheriff.”
It takes me a moment, and then it dawns on me. I feel like an idiot for not catching on sooner. My gaze lands on her flat stomach and then back to her eyes. “Are you—are we?”
Her lips lift in a small smile. “No, not yet. BUT,” she drags me close, snaking her arms around my neck. “I was thinking we should start trying.” The light behind her eyes dims slightly. “See if we can. If I can.”
I hate the flicker of fear there, of the worry she carries. I don’t want her to blame herself if it’s not easy.
“Hey,” I start. “There are so many ways to grow our family. We can do it the old-fashioned way,” I rock my hips into hers, eliciting a faint laugh. “If we need a little help, that’s okay, too. There are supplements and treatments and surrogacy and adoption—we have plenty of options. ”
My answer doesn’t seem to soothe her the way I hoped it would.
“Yeah,” she nods. “You’re right.” Her voice is small and quiet and I’d give anything to make it go away.
I kiss her softly, trying to dissolve some of the worry. “We’re a family with or without kids. You’re my family, you’re my whole fucking world. We’re going to figure it out, and no matter what I’ll be there every step of the way. You’ll never go through anything alone again. Never, querida mía.”
Her eyes fall shut. “I know,” she whispers.
“I love you, Ellie girl.”
“I love you too.”
A stretch of silence passes between us before I glide my hands down her waist and under her ass, lifting her.
She yelps, laughing. “What are you doing?”
“You said you wanted to start trying.” I smash my mouth to hers as I walk us against a bookshelf, pressing her back into it. “No time like the present.”