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A dream, a notebook
Last Updated:
2025-02-19 20:05:46
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The Alpha In My Sheets 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 : 2025-02-19The Alpha In My Sheets Dylan is an Assistant
Dinner 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 : 2025-02-22The Alpha In My Sheets My Boss
Dylan I was late. Again. Mr. Wolfe had requested me to bring an urgent document.I was already hurrying when his message arrived: "Pick up condoms along the way. "Large size." I froze on the tube, staring at my phone. My face burned. Was this my life now? Running errands for Mr. Wolfe as a personal assistant/pharmacist? I sighed and swore under my breath before typing back: "What brand?" He responded promptly, like if he had been waiting. "Any. "Just hurry." When I entered the pharmacy, I kept my head down. The cashier did not even blink. She simply called me up, handed me the bag, and grinned. However, it felt as if the entire store was watching. I carried the darn suitcase like it was a bomb!I made my way to Mr. Wolfe's place. My heart pounded. Was this what I had studied for? Despite being a Harvard graduate, I am only able to deliver this. I knocked, and the door opened slightly. Nobody greeted me. I stepped inside and asked, "Boss?"His voice came from upstairs. "Come up!"
Last Updated : 2025-01-21The Alpha In My Sheets Lunch
DylanLunch was always noisy. The office staffs seemed to see it as a chance to escape from formality and act as if they weren’t all there to spy on one another. In an effort to blend in, I ate my salad while sitting at the edge of the table. These lunches were consistently the same. A big act. The same weary faces, the same superficial conversation, the same insincere grins. The only difference was who could maintain their facade the longest. People were certainly more at ease, but the informal conversation only intensified the unease. It was as though acting as if all was well was meant to make it genuine. It never did. The purpose of these lunches? Easy: appearances. Power dynamics. A method to keep everyone in check while seeming like they cared. “Hey, Dylan,” Sam from Marketing remarked, leaning closer. “What’s Mr. Wolfe up to? Still messing around with that omega?”I nearly choked. “Pardon?”“Don’t act innocent,” he said with a smile. “You’re his assistant. You know everythi
Last Updated : 2025-01-21The Alpha In My Sheets Trip
DylanThe private jet was chilly, and so was Mr. Wolfe. He was sitting across from me, absorbed in his tasks. His gaze skimmed over his tablet, keen and intent, as if I were invisible. I had anticipated quietness, but this was stifling. Mr. Wolfe’s private jet was big and beautiful, far exceeding anything I had ever envisioned being in, yet it didn’t instill any comfort in me. The gleaming wood, leather seating, and tinted glass screamed authority and riches—two aspects that Mr. Wolfe had in spades. I sank further into my seat, observing the clouds beyond. The metropolis below vanished as we ascended. I wasn’t certain why I had come. A social gathering? A hunt in the forest? It wasn’t as though I fit into his world. It was yet another trip that he had, and here I am, his capable personal assistant. When the plane touched down, a sleek black vehicle awaited us. I followed Mr. Wolfe, clutching the documents he had given me earlier. He hadn’t uttered a word to me since we boarded t
Last Updated : 2025-01-21The Alpha In My Sheets Stargazing
Dylan I closed the door behind me, my thoughts in chaos. Mr. Wolfe’s unusual actions recurred in my thoughts, yet I failed to comprehend them. I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands gripping the sheets, trying to push the unease away. It didn’t work. I required air. Stepping out onto the balcony, I leaned against the railing, letting the cool breeze wash over me. The forest extended downward, its dark outline merging with the horizon. Above, the sky was clear, dotted with stars that seemed impossibly bright. I stared at them, my chest tightening. The stars reminded me of another night. Five years prior, my roommate compelled me to attend a basketball game. I did not wish to attend. I did not care about sports or crowds. But he insisted, stating that it would be enjoyable, so I accompanied him. That is when I first saw him. Tristan Wolfe. He was not merely a player on the court; he was the focus of all activity. His actions were quick and exact, his demeanor authorita
Last Updated : 2025-01-21The Alpha In My Sheets Hunting
DylanThe following morning, the forest appeared vibrant. Birds chirped, the wind rustled the trees, and the ground crunched beneath our feet. It was official; we were here to hunt. Indeed. Typical rich people activities, and I was just here, isn’t being an assistant delightful? Everyone appeared enthusiastic about the hunt. They chatted while getting ready, checking equipment and adjusting saddles. I remained silent, staying close to Mr. Wolfe. “Stay with the group,” he instructed me. His tone was assertive, as usual. “Don’t stray away. ”“Yes, sir,” I responded. The hunt commenced well. The alphas took the lead, their laughter resonating through the woods. I lingered at the back, observing Mr. Wolfe closely. I had reluctantly learned their names as the hunt started. First came Asher. Tall, broad-shouldered, and sturdy like a fortress. His dark hair cascaded in chaotic waves, encasing a face adorned with sharp angles and rugged lines. His eyes were a deep emerald. Next up was
Last Updated : 2025-01-21The Alpha In My Sheets Ride home
The forest darkened with each minute that passed. The air felt even colder now, cutting through my clothing. I adjusted in my saddle, looking back over my shoulder. Mr. Wolfe sat behind me, his weight pressing against my back. Since I had found him hurt, he hadn’t said much, yet I could sense the tension emanating from him. "We’ll find our way out soon," I stated, attempting to sound assured. He offered no reply. I tightened my hold on the reins. The faint glow of the lantern only lit a small area in front of us, and everything beyond was an endless maze of trees. Only the rustle of leaves and the sound of the horse's hoofs on the ground occasionally broke the eerie silence.We felt as if the forest was swallowing us whole.An hour passed. Maybe even more. The cold seeped into my bones, and I felt Mr. Wolfe shifting behind me, his breathing uneven. He said bluntly, "We are lost," his voice piercing the silence.I quickly said, "We are not lost," but I was not sure who I was attem
Last Updated : 2025-01-24
Latest chapter
The Alpha In My Sheets Dylan is an Assistant
Dinner 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
The Alpha In My Sheets 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
The Alpha In My Sheets 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
The Alpha In My Sheets Winter heat II
He 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
The Alpha In My Sheets Winter heat I
It 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
The Alpha In My Sheets Christmas invitations II
I 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
The Alpha In My Sheets Christmas invitations I
Christmas was coming. The office was quiet, everyone leaving or half-working until the holidays themselves started. Ornaments thrown around everywhere—a tacky wreath on the front counter, a sad little Christmas tree in the break room. Nothing serious. Nothing homey. And Tristan? Tristan couldn't care less about Christmas. I'd known that before I opened my mouth, but still I was in his office, fumbling about like a fool, trying to find the guts to say it. I'd just handed in my report to him, should've been making a retreat, but I hung around instead. His eyes flicked up. Piercing. Waiting. "You have something more to say?" I swallowed. Why was this so hard? "I was just—uh—wondering." Tristan's brow jumped up. Waiting. I was sweating buckets, completely insane, like I was going to ask him out on a dumb date. Which, technically, I wasn't. Not exactly. "I was just wondering…." I swallowed. "How do you usually spend Christmas?" Tristan's expression didn't change, but something
The Alpha In My Sheets New rules
Three months. It was three months ago, now, since I'd let this happen. Since I'd let Tristan touch me, ravage me, consume me in ways that I'd never considered letting. Three months since we established the ground rules: no emotions, no attachment, just sex. And yet still, I couldn't help staring at him. He was leaning over the office, heavily discussing something with some business ass in a suit that was two sizes too small, but I wasn't listening. I wasn't even pretending to listen. Because Tristan was a fucking problem. Him, Tristan, in a tailored suit that clung to his beautifully sculpted physique, jacket fitting perfectly over expansive shoulders, tie slightly undone as if he'd tugged on it in exasperation beforehand. Sleeves rolled up, forearms bare, veins protruding on his skin as he gestured, dominating the room without making the slightest effort. And his face. Cold. Focused. Completely detached. That sentence—cold, impatient, a bit cruel—shouldn't have coiled my stoma
The Alpha In My Sheets Punishment
I balanced the coffee tray carefully in my hands, walking into the meeting room with steady steps. The air was really full with the scent of expensive cologne and sharp professionalism. Tristan stood at the head of the table, listening as one of the clients spoke. I kept my head down, focused on my task. This was routine. I had done it countless times before. Everything was fine. Until it wasn’t. As I turned to leave, someone bumped into me—hard. The tray wobbled. The coffee cups tipped. And before I could react, hot liquid splashed all over a client’s expensive suit. A terrible silence filled the room. I froze. My heart pounded. The client gasped, jerking back in his chair. “What the hell?!” I opened my mouth to apologize, but then I felt it. A piercing stare. I turned slightly, my stomach sinking. Tristan was looking at me. His expression was unreadable, but his dark eyes burned into mine. I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry,” I said quickly, grabbing napkin
