The Alpha In My Sheets
Tristan is an alpha, strong and silent, with control over everything around him, he only screws omegas, everyone knows that, he is a perfectionist, everyone knows that, Dylan Harper is the only assistant he tolerates, everyone knows that, but what everyone doesn’t know is Tristan is the Alpha under Dylan’s sheets.
Dylan is just a beta, kind and invisible. When they’re forced together by work, tension builds between them, but Dylan knows his place. Alphas don’t look at betas like him. There’s no room for dreams or hope. But after waking up one day with an Alpha under his sheets, Dylan starts to wonder if he’s been wrong about everything. Will he remain just a shadow to Tristian, or is there more to his story?
•••
Tristan’s breath was steady, but I could feel the tension in the air between us. I stood too close. My fingers brushed against his arm, just enough to make the heat between us undeniable.
“Don’t…” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down my spine.
But I didn’t move away. I couldn’t. His presence was too much, too magnetic. My body hummed with a hunger I didn’t know how to quiet.
His eyes locked with mine, intense, searching, like he knew what I was feeling before I did. “You’re too close,” he whispered.
I stayed silent, caught between the urge to pull away and the need to be closer. His breath, warm on my skin, made it harder to think.
“Do you intend to trigger your heat again, my pretty little thing?” He breathed out and I could have climaxed right there and then.
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Chapter: Dylan is an AssistantDinner was expensive, of course.The restaurant was the kind where they didn't list prices on the menu, because if you had to ask, you shouldn't have been there.Tristan sat across from me, utterly calm, completely…… Hot.One fist clasped his wine glass, the other dangling on the table, languid, negligent slap against the white tablecloth. His suit, black as midnight and cut to shred people, stretched over his shoulders like it had an agenda of its own to make it difficult for me.The top of his collar was open, his tie dangling loosely by one inch, like he'd been tugging on it in frustration prior to us coming. His hair, slicked-back waves and crisp edges, was just a little bit too neat, apart from that rebellious curl which had fallen across his brow. Ah, fuck, Tristan Wolfe…. The man you are.I was supposed to be having dinner, but all of a sudden I no longer wanted to eat. I grumbled at my food instead, avoiding the sauce on the plate with my fork, faking disinterest in all of hi
Last Updated: 2025-02-22
Chapter: Dinner…. Date?The next morning, Tristan was packing his things.I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him with a growing frown.“You’re really leaving?”He didn’t even look up, shoving a sweater into his bag. “I have to see my father.”The words were flat, detached. Like the topic meant nothing to him.Something about it sat wrong in my chest.I wanted to say more—How long would you be away? Would you call me? Why the damn hell do you sound like you'd rather die by a bus than come and see your own dad?But I didn't.Because I wasn't really allowed to say things like that.Instead, I asked: "You can't stay an extra few days?"He hesitated, hands tightening around the strap of the bag, but he didn't look back."Not this time."And then, suddenly, he was gone.I was out the entire day.Not in a super obvious manner—at least, I didn't think so—but my mom picked up on it immediately.We were in the kitchen when she finally confronted me, drying off a plate with slow, deliberate movement
Last Updated: 2025-02-19
Chapter: A dream, a notebook Harvard.It took me a second, then I realized where I'd heard it, and immediately I felt queasiness.I stood on campus, with people, overlapping conversations, wind biting and nipping, pavement under feet where people rushed between classes. It felt too real, the familiar feel of the pack on the shoulder, coffee smell from the student union from afar.And then—A name.“Tristan Wolfe.”I froze.I turned toward a familiar face. "Who's that?"The way he gazed at me was quite insulting.“You don’t know who Tristan Wolfe is?”I shook my head and a shiver rose onto my spine.There was not a vocal reply, because I had been grabbed and jerked towards him.“Come on, take a look, then.”I barely had time to comprehend what I had heard when we were slashing across the quad, pushing our way between groups of students, towards the gym. The louder we got, the more raucous the sound sounded—the unmistakable boom and crash of a basketball being played.Mason shoved the doors wide open.And there he
Last Updated: 2025-02-19
Chapter: Winter heat IIHe was fully in my space now, his hands pressing against the wall on either side of me, his body too warm, too solid, too fucking much. “You’re being awfully quiet, Dylan.” His voice was low, amused. “I—” My voice died in my throat. Because suddenly, his mouth was right there. Floating inches from mine, his breath on my lips, his eyes on mine like he was holding his breath waiting for something. Waiting for me to break. I clenched my fists. "Tristan—" And then—he kissed me. Hard. Hungry. Teeth scraping against my lower lip, his hands digging harder into my waist, yanking me toward him until there was no space left. I made a noise—a gasp, a curse—something, but he swallowed it whole, kissing me like he was trying to erase every thought from my head but him. And it was working. I was warm all over, my knees weak, my body totally betraying me. His lips moved lower, tracing over my jaw, down to the juncture of my neck, open-mouthed kisses pressed against my skin. I fucking s
Last Updated: 2025-02-08
Chapter: Winter heat IIt wasn't the disaster I'd pictured in my head, but it wasn't silky smooth by any means. Because if there was one thing I'd learned tonight, it was this: Tristan Wolfe, cold CEO, menacing businessman, career-killer…was downright fucking awkward with my parents. I’d never seen him like this before. Usually, he was the most composed, in-control bastard in any room. His words were always measured, his confidence unshakable. But here? Here, he sat at my parents' dinner table, shoulders a little too straight, back a little too stiff, holding his fork like it was some kind of delicate weapon. My mom had been impressed with him at first, just because he had good table manners and was sporting a nice coat. And my dad? My dad was keeping him on the hot seat. So, Tristan," he said, stirring his drink slowly. "Tell me. How did you and Dylan meet?" I paused with a bite halfway to my mouth. Oh. Oh no. I could feel Tristan's tension beside me. He set his fork down carefully, answering with
Last Updated: 2025-02-08
Chapter: Christmas invitations III wiped my hands across my sweater to dry them and glanced at the screen. Tristan: How's the holiday going so far? I stared at it. I hadn't really heard from him much since the office shut down. It wasn't unusual—this was the longest either of us had ever been out of the office. And yet, the look of his name sent something burning slash through my chest. I answered quickly. Me: Loud. Chaotic. Mom yelling at the gravy. One second later: Tristan: Sounds like fun. I smiled already anticipating the dry-as-desert look on his face. Me: You tell me, but you'd really hate it. Too human and warm. There was a longer pause than that one. Then: Tristan: Still invited? I breathed in. Home for the Holidays I texted my address out hurriedly, before I could regret it. And then I just.stood there. For what was an eternity, I simply sat there, my phone in my face, irregular heartbeat, stomach twisting itself into impossible knots. He was coming. Tristan Wolfe was in my hometown for C
Last Updated: 2025-02-08
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