“Carver, why don’t you sit down while I get the food?”
“Sure,” Carver said, walking over to the couch and taking a seat next to Peter and leaving about a foot of space between them. Tex could see how much Peter wanted to move away, but he sat frozen.
The wolf in Tex approved. The boy knew who was in charge, and he was acting accordingly. Tex was more conflicted. He liked how vulnerable Peter came off, but he wasn’t interested in his fear. That was just inconvenient. Hopefully some exposure to the two of them would put Peter at ease.
Tex wanted a happy omega. Happy omegas were much more fun than skittish, nervous ones.
The pizza had arrived just ten minutes before Peter and it was still piping hot. Tex had read online that omegas from the program tended to be hungry, their nerves suppressing their appetites before the handover, and he wanted to have something warm to feed his new omega.
Tex grabbed the boxes and a pack of beer and carried it all into the living room. Peter was still in the same position, but Carver had given in to the boy’s obvious discomfort and moved to the other side of the couch.
That wouldn’t do.
“You like meat?” Tex asked, putting the pizza and beer on the coffee table and dropping down next to Peter. He sat close, thigh to thigh, once again draping his arm over the boy’s shoulders and holding him under his arm.
Peter tensed up and Tex ruffled his hair. “Relax, kid. We’re not going to fuck you, but we’re werewolves. You’re going to have to get used to physical contact.”
“Okay,” Peter mumbled, not an ounce of tension leaving his body.
“Leave him alone,” Carver commanded, but Tex ignored him. He reached forward, pulling Peter along with him, practically bending the boy in half as he opened the top pizza box.
“Here, have a slice,” he said, grabbing a piece of the meat-lover pizza and handing it to his captive. “I can hear your stomach rumbling. Do you drink beer?”
Peter hesitated, but then he licked his lips and nodded. “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Tex grabbed a can and popped it open before handing it to the kid.
Peter must have been hungry because he devoured his first slice of pizza in seconds before plaintively looking at the box with hungry eyes. Tex wordlessly handed him another slice, his wolf preening at the boy’s easy acceptance of the food he’d provided.
It wasn’t as good as feeding him a fresh kill, but as a suburbanite, Tex had to make do.
“So, tell us about yourself,” Tex said after they were done eating and an uneasy silence had settled over them. The quiet had been fine while they were eating, but now that they were just sitting there it was oppressive. “All we know is that you’re twenty-two years old and that you were convicted of money laundering and tax evasion. That and that you like to be tied up, dominated and hurt.”
Peter, who was in the middle of downing the last of his beer, choked violently. It took a good thirty seconds before he’d managed to clear his throat and wheeze out, “What?”
“That’s pretty much everything that’s in your file,” Tex said. He looked over and caught Carver’s eye, winking at him.
He hadn’t told Carver about Peter’s natural inclination for submission and taking pain, and he hoped his mate was pleased.
“I don’t like… that kind of stuff,” Peter stuttered, wrenching away from underneath Tex’s arm. He bolted up off the couch and turned to face Carver and Tex, his face red. “If it says that I do, it’s wrong.”
Tex grinned, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head. The pose showed off his chest, biceps and shoulders to their best advantage, and Tex was pleased to catch Peter looking. It didn’t last long, but there was definitive lust in the young omega’s eyes.
“That’s what the test showed. It’s fine if you don’t want to explore it, but the tests tend to be pretty accurate. Though, to be fair, they’re not a measure of experience. I mean, look at Carver here.” Tex gestured at his husband. “Looking at his profile, you’d think he spent his nights torturing frat boys with a spiked dildo, but the truth is he’s never gone further than fuzzy handcuffs and nipple clamps. The test just shows… proclivities. It’s not a reflection of your actual sex life or sexual history.
Peter stood stock still, taking in the information and processing. Tex wondered what he was thinking.
“I don’t want to be tied up,” Peter said, his words determined but laced with nerves. “And I don’t want to be hurt or dominated, either.”
“Are you sure?” Tex asked, biting his lip and tilting his head. “Because from where I’m sitting, you look like the kind of guy who’d enjoy letting go and letting someone else take the reins for a while.”
Peter blushed and dropped his gaze to the floor.
“For fuck’s sake, Tex, you’re freaking him out,” Carver growled, making Peter flinch.
So he was still more scared of Carver than him, Tex thought. That was interesting. So far, Tex had been the pushy one.
Then again, from Peter’s point of view, all Carver had done was brood silently and growl. No wonder he came across as scary.
