IZABELLA
He knocked on my door that night.
My closet door.
I swallowed, shaking out my arms as I stood up in only a robe and walked over to open it.
The moment he stepped inside, I showed him the pregnancy test in my hand.
His gaze lingered on my face before he looked down and took the test.
The negative test.
His expression gave nothing away as he studied it.
When he was done, he walked over to my bin and tossed it inside.
“Not pregnant,” I whispered into the room.
He walked back to me, reaching to remove his suit coat.
“Do you know your safe words?”
I walked backwards to the bed. Anticipation fueled my blood. If he was asking that, then...
“Red,” I breathed.
“And red is for?”
“Enough.”
He draped his coat over the back of my armchair. “Red stops me.” He nodded his head. “
