Chris woke up, but a big headache made it difficult for him to open his eyes. He lay there in bed, eyes closed trying to remember what he had done the night before to wake up with not only a headache, but also a great body ache.

The word he was looking for appeared quickly in his mind: hangover. He recalled that the night before he had a drink with his friends in the hotel bar where they were staying. He remembered drinking shot after shot of tequila while his friends cheered him on. Normally he wouldn't get so drunk, but there was a special reason: he was getting married.

His friends had the brightest idea of ​​taking Chris to Las Vegas for his bachelor party. Chris naturally didn't like that idea. He knew it would be infested with alphas, and he hated alphas.

But Eric, a beta and his fiance, encouraged him to go. It's your bachelor party, have fun with your friends, he recalled.

He sighed heavily and finally encouraged himself to open his eyes.

But something was wrong.

The room was wrong.

It was familiar, but not at the same time. It is the same design as his room but it was different. And it was clear: it wasn’t his room.

But what terrified him is not waking up in a room that was not his.

Alpha pheromones.

The room was full of alpha pheromones. When he realized that he wasn’t in his room, it occurred to him that maybe they had the party in one of his friends' rooms and so he woke up in a different room.

But that idea was impossible. His friends were betas and omegas. There was no alpha. And those pheromones were so strong that it was obvious that it wasn't just any alpha… it was a dominant alpha.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

He got out of bed slowly, first so as not to wake the man he knew was sleeping next to him and second because he couldn't bear the fucking pain of his body.

He started looking for his clothes, which were scattered throughout the room along with used condoms.

He cursed himself again and only then dared to look at the man on the bed.

The man slept on his stomach, he was probably sleepy or maybe he had also drunk alcohol like it was water and so, although Chris had made a little noise when dressing, that man didn't even move a bit. If it wasn't because he could see him breathe he might think he was dead.

He was naked, the sheet only covered his well-shaped butt and exposed his broad back and shapely legs. He had the body of a typical dominant alpha. Ironic, he thought. He hated alphas but had fucked one at his bachelor party.

Because he couldn't fool himself. He couldn’t hide under the pretext that this man took advantage of him. It could be an omega but poor of that man who dared to take him by force, be a dominant or normal alpha. Alcohol played a bad game on him, but it wasn't all the fault of alcohol. Beyond the hangover body and head pain, he felt… satisfied. Every breath he took, every time the pheromone of that alpha entered through his nose, made him tickle his anus.

And it was strange. Of all the alpha pheromones he had ever felt in his life, none compared to that man's. It was a soft, sweet, intoxicating scent, not stifling and gross.

“Why didn't you wake me up when you were leaving? Can you give me your phone number? I really don't want this to be a thing of a night. I think I like y―”

Chris was so deep in thought that he didn't realize the alpha had gotten out of bed and got so close that he hugged him from behind. He could even feel his morning erection.

The alpha stayed in the middle of a word because Chris, scared to feel and desire that erection, punched him.

And ran out of the room.