Page 67 of Deep Control


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That plane.That plane had started it all. “You weren’t okay then,” I said. “How are you feeling now?”

“Happy to see you again.”

I grinned, brushing my fingers through her curls. “You know, that’s what I was thinking when we were on that plane. That I was happy to see you again.”

“Ha.” She laughed. “Are we reliving that day?”

We both shook our heads at the same time. “I don’t want to relive that day,” I said. “I remember things going bad a couple hours later. Really bad.”

She huddled against me. “No, they didn’t go bad. We survived because of you. Maybe that will happen again.” Her voice was quiet, a little trembly.

I looked down at her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re so strong, and you’re so forgiving. You’re trusting that I won’t hurt you again, that I’ve changed.”

“I have proof that you’ve changed.” I pointed to a plane in the distance, circling up from the airport. “You got on a plane to see me. Makes me think you might be serious about things this time.”

She hid her face in her hands, giving a classic Ella groan. “The thing is, I was always serious. I was just afraid to admit it to myself. I would sit in my apartment, or in work meetings, and think to myself how much I adored you.” She sighed and looked back up at me. “How much Ilovedyou. And as soon as the L-word popped into my head, I’d go crazy trying to deny my feelings. It was exhausting.”

I met her gaze and realized she was still a little exhausted. I wished I’d worked harder to understand her, so she wouldn’t have had to deal with all this personal upheaval alone.

But I’d been afraid of scaring her away.

“Here’s what I don’t understand,” I said, taking her hand. “You’ll let a club full of horny Doms come at you in Pisa. You’ll play without safe words at The Gallery and be perfectly fine with that loss of control. But when it comes to a deeper connection with someone—when it comes to the L-word—you lose your shit. You’re terrified. You realize that’s the exact opposite of most people, right?”

“I know. I’m not normal. But neither are you.” She blinked, a blush rising up her cheeks. “I didn’t want to be my father, you know? I was afraid to love the way he did, because he ended up sad and lonely, pining for what could never be. But then I realized I was already living my father’s life…sad and lonely, pining for what could never be.”

We sat in silence a moment, digesting that thought. I understood her issues with her father, and the loss of her mother. God, I had family issues too, but maybe love had as much power to heal as to hurt. “We fit together,” I said. “We want each other. We shouldn’t be afraid.”

“I’m trying not to be.” She shifted beside me on the seat, and I stroked her fingers, trying to decode her expression.

“Are you afraid right now?” I asked.

“No. Well.” She paused and bit her lip. “There’s something I need to tell you before we go any further.” She took a breath and blurted it out. “I went to Milo’s work, to Fierro Music, and met with him. I asked him to…to take me to The Gallery.”

I wasn’t shocked by her declaration. Milo had already told me she came to see him, but I was surprised she’d asked him to play with her. Milo had left that part out.

“Why did you want him to take you?” I asked. “Do you love him, too?”

“No!” Her eyes welled with tears. “I totally don’t. I didn’t want you to think that.”

“What, then?” I was teasing, meanly. “Do you like his style of play better? His long hair?”

“No. It had nothing to do with Milo, really. I didn’t want to go with him, I just wanted to go. I wanted to be…” One of her tears spilled over, and she moved her glasses to wipe it away. “I wanted to be punished.”

I knew she got off on pain, but this was something different. Her expression tore me up. “Punished for what?”

“For being stupid. You know, about us.”

“You’re not stupid.” I put an arm around her and pulled her close. “Okay, it was a little stupid to go to Milo instead of me. But I think both of us fucked up this relationship thing. I think we need to let go a little bit, and let things happen.” The city lights shone in her wet eyes, on her sweet-smelling blonde hair. Beautiful, emotional girl, who was so afraid to let out her feelings. “I want us to happen, Ella. I want to see where this can go.”

She pressed her face against my chest. “I do, too. I wasn’t happy on my own. I wasn’t really happy until I met you. I’m done running away from my own happiness.”

“See? That sounds smart, not stupid.” I let go of her hand to run my fingers back and forth across her knuckles. “And if you get afraid again, we’ll talk things out. Okay? No more of this ‘we need to take a break’ crap. No more sneaking off to hook up with my friends.”

“It wasn’t like that,” she insisted. “I wasn’t sneaking. I think I went to him because he was the closest thing to you, but I didn’t really want him. I don’t have feelings for him, the way I have feelings for you. He actually freaks me out.”

“Good, because I don’t think I can share you with him anymore, or anyone.” I hadn’t wanted to share her in a while, and it was time to be honest about that. “Maybe I can come back around to the idea of sharing eventually, but I want it to be just us for a while. You and I, and all the pain your body can handle, and a relationship, even if it’s scary. That’s what I want, and if you can’t agree to that, I don’t… I don’t think we have a way forward.”

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