All Chapters of The Alpha In My Sheets: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

For the past few days, one way or the other, I had been avoiding going to Mr. Wolfe's house.I had begun by making excuses. However, they were just mental, and he didn't believe them. "Can't you just come over to my place today?" He would ask. He was quite sharp. I could see it in his eyes."Who you work for, do I need to remind you?" his voice was still close in tone, even though clipped."No!" I hurriedly replied, trying to control my voice. “Well, I respect that the deal is temporary. Remember it? You’re almost healed. You are good to go now.”We didn’t argue, but he gave me a look of a tiger staring down a herd of cows. It was clear he wasn't pleased.So still, I did pause to consider.Finally, just a week later, I returned back to my job in the office.The limping that he was slightly showing was almost undetectable, but he still walked like his usual self. Afterward, my mind was cleared of being able to say something back to him at the moment.I mistakenly thought so.The office

I lay on the couch, my body bare, my skin still tingling from his touch.Mr.Wolfe’s arms were wrapped around me, his warmth pressing into my back. His breathing was slow, steady, completely at ease.For a moment, I didn’t move.I just lay there, feeling it.The heat of his body. The strength of his arms. The way his fingers lazily traced circles on my hip, like he didn’t want to let go. My cheeks warmed up, especially realizing that Tristan was doing this while being asleep.My chest tightened.I felt…happy.It was terrifying how natural it felt, being in his arms like this.Then reality crashed in.My breath caught. My heart pounded.What had I done?I was naked. In Mr.Wolfe’s office. In his arms.My boss.I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands trembling against the sheets.This was a mistake. A terrible, irreversible mistake.I had broken my own rules. I had let him have me.And worst of all…I had wanted it.I dressed quickly, my hands shaking.My heart was still racing, my lips swollen

I trailed along behind Mr. Wolfe with my pullman, lugging it behind me in the airport.The flight had been long and I was tired. My shoulders ached from sitting too much, and I was eager for nothing else than to collapse onto a bed and sleep along time.The company put us up at a five-star hotel. They were being good to us. Inside the lobby, I gawked at the lofty ceilings that steeped in acclaim, the golden chandeliers, the marble floors. Everything was magnificent and powerful, just like Mr. Wolfe.At the front desk, the receptionist smiled at us courteously. “Welcome, Mr. Wolfe. Your reservation is ready.”“Two rooms?” I asked even before she had spoken another word.The receptionist hesitated. “Ah, I am so sorry. Unfortunately, sir, we have only one room available, a suite. Due to high demand, we have no standard rooms. But the suite is very spacious, has a double-size bed, a large living area. As for other amenities...”I immediately turned to Boss. “We have to find another hotel.

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

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