“Don’t be mad,” Peter whispered, sounding upset. Tex knew that Peter was still an emotional mess from his evening with Carver, and the last thing he wanted was for Peter to worry about him.
“I’m not,” he lied. “Not as long as you’re happy.”
“I am happy,” Peter reassured him. “You make me happy.”
“Then I’m happy too,” Tex said, draping his arm around Peter’s back and hugging him tight. “Now, how about we get some sleep?”
“Good idea,” Carver said, climbing into the bed on Peter’s other side. He lay down against Peter’s back, making an omega sandwich. He stared into Tex’s eyes, searching.
Tex stared back, letting his anger shine through. He would talk to Carver later when Peter wasn’t still half in subspace.
Closing his eyes, ignoring the way Carver’s mouth opened like he was going to say something, Tex held his omega close and drifted off to sleep.
41
Carver
Carver woke up before Tex and Peter. He made his way into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee, taking it out to the back porch and sitting down on the swing to think.
He didn’t know what to make of Tex’s reaction the night before. It wasn’t often that Tex was angry with him, but somehow he’d managed to piss him off royally. It made Carver rethink his evening with Peter, wondering if he’d gone too far.
The Bank hadn’t been what Carver thought it would be. Ingram was a pompous dick—which was exactly as he’d expected—but the other senior members had been all right. He’d watched a few of them play with their omegas in the main room after his audition, indulging their exhibitionist tendencies and his own curiosity, and none of them had been as rough with their omegas as Carver had been with Peter.
He hadn’t even really needed to perform, Ingram told him afterward, the sight of Peter’s bruised ass more than enough to convince the senior members that Carver was the real deal.
Carver had dug up enough shady information on the club to know that there was more going on behind the scenes, but if he’d gone in blind, he could see how he would be excited about being a member.
The playrooms alone were worth the price of admission. Carver had already reserved two slots in the weeks ahead, and he was eager to try out the different rooms. The one set up as a doctor’s office was particularly intriguing.
Of course, the real reason he’d booked the rooms was in the hopes of seeing Grossman and figuring out how to get dirt on him.
Looking out at their overgrown garden, Carver heard Peter moving around the house before he came out the door looking for him.
“There you are,” Peter said, walking out on the porch and climbing onto Carver’s lap. He grabbed Carver’s arm, pulling it down and draping it over his chest like a blanket. “Why are you up so early?”
“Just thinking,” Carver said.
“About yesterday?”
“Yes,” Carver answered.
“I’ve been thinking about it too,” Peter said, leaning his head back against Carver’s chest. “I’ve decided that I’m angry with you and I’m not going to let you knot my mouth for a while.”
Peter was so relaxed and snuggly that it took Carver a second to make sense of his words.
“Excuse me?”
“I have a safeword, and you took it away without discussing it with me. Tex is right. That’s not okay.”
“You don’t sound angry,” Carver said, confused.
“But I think I should be,” Peter said, looking up at him over his shoulder. “I had fun yesterday, sure, but what if I had panicked or suddenly didn’t like it anymore?”
“If you were really scared, I would have smelled it,” Carver said, taking a sip of his coffee and then putting it aside, wrapping both arms around Peter. “I was paying attention.”
Peter was quiet for a moment.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” he mumbled, playing with the hair on Carver’s arm. “But it’s still not okay.”
