Calvin’s home.
Moments later, he finds me in my room and chuckles, leaning against the doorway. “You are very messy,” he teases.
I glance around, frowning slightly. It’s not that messy. Sure, there are a few clothes on the floor, shoes scattered around, and my suitcase is still halfway unpacked… Okay, maybe it’s a little messy. “I was going to clean that up,” I lie, trying to sound casual. “I just had a lot to do…”
The smile he gives me tells me he’s not buying it for a second. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he says, making me blush. He steps inside and hands me a bag from Luxe that I didn’t notice before.
“For moi?” I smile, reaching for the bag and peeking inside to find a chicken sandwich and a Gatorade. I can’t help but roll my eyes playfully.
“Don’t even lie and say you’ve eaten. I bet the last meal you had was the breakfast I had my chef make for you,” he says, his tone knowing as he glances toward the iPad sitting on my desk. He grabs it and sits on the bed, scanning the document.
“Maybe I’m not hungry,” I try to argue. It’s not a complete lie; the nerves from reading the contract had killed my appetite for a while. But I’m definitely hungry now.
Calvin raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. Hedoesn’t say anything, just gives me that look, the one that silently dares me to keep pretending.
I sigh and give in, picking up the food he brought me. Of course, it’s delicious. But even as I eat, my eyes keep drifting to him. He’s seated across from me, calmly reviewing the contract like it’s a business proposal instead of something that could flip my entire world upside down.
“Alright,” he says after a few quiet minutes. His posture changes, shoulders settling back. “Before we sign anything, there are three things we need to talk about.”
I nod, waiting. He’s still the same man I was teasing a few minutes ago, but the air feels different now. Intentional. Grounded.
“First,” he begins, “how do you feel about not using condoms?”
My pulse jumps. He’s calm, matter-of-fact. “If you’d rather we keep using them, that’s fine. But either way, I want transparency.” He unlocks his phone and scrolls before holding it out to me. “I was tested last month. Everything came out negative.”
I take the phone, scanning the results before handing it back and pulling out my own. “My tests are negative as well,” I say quietly. “And I have an implant. I’m okay not using one.”
His mouth lifts slightly, though his tone stays even. “Good.” He passes my phone back to me, and then his expression shifts again. “The second thing is more important.”
I tilt my head, curious.
“I’ve never entered a BDSM contract with someone who isn’t Black,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “And before we start this, I think we need to talk about what that means.”
I blink, the words catching me off guard. So, he and Abby aren’t in the lifestyle together? For some reason, that thought settles strangely in my chest. “Okay,” I say softly. “Let’s talk about it.”
He leans forward, forearms resting on his knees. “In this dynamic,” he says, voice steady, “there’s a lot of language around power. Ownership. Control. Submission. It can get blurry fast if we’re not mindful of context and history.” He pauses, watching me carefully. “I don’t ever want to use something in play that echoes something ugly outside of it. I won’t ever treat what we have like a game that ignores what the world really looks like.”
I take a slow breath, my throat tight with something that feels like gratitude. “I understand,” I whisper. “And I don’t ever want to say or do something that makes you feel… reduced. Or objectified. And if I ever get something wrong, I want you to tell me. I’ll listen.”
His jaw flexes, just once. “Good,” he says. The faintest smile pulls at his mouth. “That’s all I need to hear.” His tone dips. “When we’re in a scene, you’ll be mine. But outside of that? We are equal. I need you to know that distinction matters.”
I nod, feeling the weight of his words settle between us. “I do.”
His gaze holds mine for a long, quiet moment before he adds, almost under his breath, “Then I think we’ll be fine, Peach.”
The name sounds different this time, less teasing, more reverent. It makes my heart ache in the best way. “Communication and respect are important in this lifestyle. If either of us ever feels uncomfortable, we stop. No questions asked.”
“Yes, absolutely.”
“That brings me to the next point,” he says. “You need tochoose a safe word. Something simple and easy to remember. I’ll still use the traffic light system to check in, red, yellow, green. Red means stop immediately. Yellow means slow down, ease up, you’re reaching your limit. Green means everything’s fine and we can keep going.” He pauses, holding my gaze. “But I also want you to pick a word that’s yours. Something you can use anytime, for any reason, and everything stops. No questions asked.”
This is something I’ve actually thought about all day today.
“Velvet,” I say.
“Velvet,” he repeats, nodding. “Good.”
I watch as he signs the contract before handing the iPad back to me. “Make sure this is what you want.”
