“I know.”
The words couldn’t have come out very convincing because Carver frowned. He looked away, scowling in the direction of the TV.
It was becoming a familiar expression. Tex smirked, and Carver scowled. Now that he knew that the angry expression didn’t signify that anything horrible was about to happen to him, Peter was less intimidated by the ferocity of it.
“You should have a safeword.” Carver looked at him, jaw clenched and gaze laser-focused on Peter’s face.
A safeword? Peter didn’t know whether to be relieved or to piss himself.
“Why?” he croaked. He hoped Carver didn’t want to start exploring his sadistic side already. There was a part of him—a squirmy shameful part deep in his stomach—that tingled with excitement at the idea of Carverdoing thingsto him, but that part was tiny and vastly overshadowed by his common sense.
“Tex and I… we get too caught up in how good it feels to have you here. We’ve been pushing you, and we need some kind of signal in case we push too far.”
Peter licked his lips, hesitating before gathering his courage. “You could just… not push.”
Carver blinked at him, scrunching his nose like the very idea was distasteful.
“You want us to back off completely?” He didn’t sound like he liked the idea of that.
Peter shook his head. He was getting used to the physical contact—all the little touches and hugs—and after six months in prison where the most comfort he’d gotten was a perfunctory handshake, he didn’t want to go back to being touch-starved and miserable.
Maybe a safeword was a good idea—if they listened to it.
“We could use the stop-light system,” Carver said, wiping his big hand on his thigh. He wasnervous. “For the safeword, I mean. Yellow for slow down and red for stop.”
Peter bit his lip, thinking it over. If he could trust it—if he could let go and enjoy having two alphas wholly focused on him, knowing that he could stop it the minute it became too much… he wanted it. Peter had never wanted something so bad.
But he’d have to trust them.
“Could I test it?”
Carver stilled, like a wolf catching the scent of prey within reach. “What do you mean?”
“Would it be okay if I used the safeword a few times, even if I didn’t need it? Just to get used to it?”
Carver nodded. “Of course. You don’t have to justify using it. Whenever you want for whatever reason.”
Peter looked down at his hands. Would Tex listen to a safeword? Carver wasn’t the one pushing him—at least not when Tex wasn’t there.
“Did you talk to Tex about this?”
The look on Carver’s face said plainly that he hadn’t.
“No, but he’d go along with it.” At Peter’s dubious expression, he elaborated. “Tex didn’t ask me before he went to the delinquency program. I didn’t know you were coming until an hour before you arrived. After pulling a stunt like that Tex doesn’t get to make decisions about how we treat you.”
Peter was shocked, and to his dismay the first thought that popped into his head was that Carver didn’t want him. Carver hadn’t chosen him—hadn’t asked for him—Peter had just been dumped on him like a puppy at Christmas.
It was devastating.
“He’ll respect your safeword, I promise.” Carver sounded worried, staring at him like he didn’t know what to do. Peter realized that he was tearing up and that Carver was taking it completely the wrong way.
He couldn’t believe he was reacting like this. Ambivalence about his situation aside, as an omega, Peter had clearly accepted Carver as his alpha.
Sometimes he hated being an omega.
“Don’t cry; we would never hurt you. I’ll talk to Tex, and we won’t touch you until you ask us to. I promise.”
Peter forced himself to calm down. He took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at Carver as he tried to convince himself that this was a good thing. Carver wasn’t the kind of alpha who bought people. Tex was, and the more he got to know him, the more Peter realized that Tex would probably be a pretty awful alpha without Carver there to rein him in, but that was okay.
