Free The Art of Control by Ella Dominguez Page B

enough?”
    “God only knows when the next time you’ll let something like that happen again, so I want to relive it over and over, that’s why. Now come and sit next to me. See what I did there? Come ?”
    Isa rolls her eyes and plops herself on the bed and folds her arms, annoyed with me.
    “Well?” I ask.
    “Well, what ? You boinked me in the presence of a dozen people and they all got a good look at my hairy vag. What else is there to say?” she snorts, giving me the evil eye.
    “ Boinked you? What the fuck? What are we in junior high? And your vag isn’t exactly hairy. It’s well groomed,” I laugh loudly. My sudden movement sends a jolt of pain through my chest and I cringe from the pain.
    “ See? Now just stop, you need to rest,” Isa scolds in her motherly tone.
    “ Boinked…” I repeat.
    Isa raises her eyebrows at me and shakes her head.
    “ Boinked …” I say one last time, chuckling at her terminology.
    “Okay, Dyl an, I said boinked . You really are juvenile sometimes.”
    “Me? You’re the one who referred to our glorious public coupling as boinked .”
    “ You think it was glorious?” she asks surprised.
    “Hell yes, it was glorious. You looked fucking magnificent and everyone that was watching will have the image of your gorgeous pussy being fucked forever burned into their memories.”
    Isa’s expression is horrified , “God, Dylan, I don’t want my pussy etched in anyone’s memory but yours.”
    “Too late now,” I kid.
    “Well, if I had known I had a choice…”
    “You, what ? You would’ve said no ?”
    “Maybe,” she says defiantly.
    “Like hell you would’ve. You enjoyed it just as much as I did so don’t try and pretend like you didn’t.”
    Looking away from me, s he folds her arms again and snorts stubbornly.
    “There’s nothing wrong with liking what we did. Honestly, are you really embarrassed about it?” I ask.
    Isa turns to look at me and her cheeks are bright pink.
    “A little.”
    “We’ve been scening at the Dark Asylum for the last two months. How is what we did at the bar any different?”
    “Because we’ve never actually had penile penetration during those scenes,” she reminds me.
    “Penile penetration…” I chuckle.
    “O h, you’re impossible,” she grumbles and stands.
    “I’m sorry. Sit back down, please. You’re right, it is different. It’s just something I really wanted to do with you and it’s not like we can do it back in the States.”
    Isa nods her head in agreement and smiles a little.
    “You are right, I did enjoy it. Not as much as you, but yes, I did enjoy it. That man standing behind you was creepy, though.  He kept stroking… Oh my God . That’s the same man who attacked you!” Isa squeals.
    “What? Are you sure?” I ask, sitting up.
    “Yes, I’m positive. Gross, Dylan. He saw us have sex and then he followed us. What did he want?”
    Fucking hell. I knew we were being followed. Why do I ever doubt my instincts?
    ***
    Isabel
    What a repulsing thought. Seriously, what a major creepoid. Dylan looks genuinely stressed about it and proceeds to call Sawyer. What for? It’s not like he can do anything about it 3,000 miles away. I swear those two are like a couple of little teenage girls with their bromance. They can’t go without speaking or texting each other at least once a day.
    I leave him to his conversation and go into the bathroom to clean up the mess we made cleaning Dylan’s wound. I see the bloody washcloth and I’m reminded of my mother again. Yes, I am adept at taking care of injuries. On more than one occasion I had to help my mother patch herself up after my father took out his anger on her.
    My poor mother . Why did she stay with him for so long? I sit on the toilet and stare at the bloody cloth, thinking of all the times my mother was battered and crying. I hardly remember a time when she wasn’t bloodied or bruised and crying. I roll the rag through my fingers and bring it to my nose and the