Chapter 103: Slick for my Alpha Best friend -3

Andy carried me into my bedroom like I was made of glass, laying me down softly on the mattress and pulling the comforter up over my chest.

"I put water and the suppressants on your nightstand, Pete," Andy said quietly, his hand lingering on the edge of the mattress as he looked down at me with that gentle, protective concern.

"Take them, okay? Get some rest."

"Thanks, Andy," I whispered, keeping my eyes fixed on the ceiling until I heard his heavy footsteps fade out into the living room and the door click shut.

The second he was gone, I looked over at the small white bottle sitting on the wooden table.

My heart was hammering against my ribs, hot tears of frustration spilling over my temples onto the pillow.

I didn’t want the pills. I didn’t want him sitting out on the couch acting like my big brother, waiting for my body to go back to normal so we could go back to pretending nothing happened.

I reached out, grabbed the bottle, and shoved it deep into my nightstand drawer, letting it slam shut.

If my body was going to burn, I was going to let it burn, hoping the raw, sweet stench of my Omega heat filling the hallway would force him back through that door, force him to stop fighting what we were.

It didn’t take long. By midnight, my fever spiked out of control, a second wave of heat hitting my gut twice as hard as the first.

My slick was soaking straight through my sheets, my bare dick throbbing against the mattress as my core practically screamed for his cock to fill me again.

My scent patch was gone, and the heavy, intoxicating smell of my heat flooded the entire apartment, seeping right under the crack of my bedroom door.

The door flew open with a sharp THUD.

Andy stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his dark Alpha eyes completely blown out and glowing in the dim light.

He didn’t say a word. The raw, primal urge in his scent swamped the room, completely overriding whatever self-control he had been clinging to all evening.

He crossed the floor in three long strides, kicking his sweatpants off, flipping me onto my stomach, and pinning my wrists flat against the mattress.

"You didn’t take them," Andy growled into my ear, his voice dark, raspy, and completely ruined by his Alpha instincts as he lined his hard, eight-inch shaft against my dripping rim.

"I didn’t want to," I gasped out, my hips arching back into him, my body welcoming the brutal, relentless thrusts as he slammed all the way inside me without warning.

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

He pounded into me with terrifying intensity, his hands digging into my hips, leaving deep red marks on my skin as he took me right there in my bed.

The sex was wild, messy, and desperate. I cried out his name, my dick spurting cum all over my own stomach as he drove himself deep, his knot swelling and locking into my tight walls for a second time, drowning my womb in another heavy dose of his seed.

As the knot slowly deflated an hour later, Andy’s breathing began to steady, the dark fog in his eyes slowly clearing away as the Alpha haze wore off.

He looked down at me, taking in my bruised hips, the mess on the sheets, and the empty nightstand.

"Pete... where are the suppressants?" Andy asked, his voice suddenly sharp, a sudden wave of clarity crashing over his face.

I didn’t answer. I just reached over and opened the nightstand drawer, pointing at the full bottle sitting inside.

Andy stared at the bottle, then looked back at me, his jaw clenching as the realization hit him like a physical blow.

"You did that on purpose?" Andy asked, his tone dropping into a cold, disbelieving quiet. "You suffered through that heat wave intentionally just to push me into taking you again?"

The shame hit me so fast and hard it felt like my chest was caving in.

Seeing the disappointment and boundary-crossed panic written all over his face made everything instantly clear: I had manipulated his Alpha instincts, and it hadn’t changed a single thing about how he viewed me. I was just an Omega in heat, and he was an Alpha reacting to scent.

"Get out," I whispered, my voice flat, empty, completely stripped of all the warmth and affection I had held for him for three years.

"Pete..."

"I said get out, Andy," I repeated, pulling the comforter over my shoulders and turning my back to him completely.

"I’m fine now. Leave me alone."

Andy stood there for a long, agonizing moment, his chest heavy as he stared at my turned shoulder, before he slowly pulled his clothes on and walked out, closing the door behind him.

Over the next two weeks, the shift between us was absolute.

I put up an ironclad emotional wall. I stopped making his morning coffee, stopped sitting on the couch while he watched games, and started leaving the apartment early for classes, treating him like a complete stranger who just happened to share my lease.

When he tried to talk to me in the kitchen, I answered in short, polite one-word answers, keeping my face completely blank.

I stopped wearing his oversized hoodies, stopped letting my scent linger in the common room, and started wearing fresh scent patches every single morning, masking my Omega smell completely under a layer of medicinal neutralizer.

It drove Andy completely insane.

Instead of being relieved that things were "back to normal," the cold distance tore through his composure faster than my heat ever had.

He started staying home more, pacing the living room floor, his eyes tracking my every movement whenever I walked past him without looking his way.

The pine-and-rain scent rolling off him became sharp, agitated, and deeply territorial.

He couldn’t stand the quiet space between us, couldn’t stand that the guy who used to look at him like he hung the stars now looked right through him like he didn’t even exist.

He was falling apart, and for the first time in three years, the Alpha was the one desperately searching for a way back in.