Tyler pressed his lips together. Why was it Nick’s business? Nick was free to date that little prat of his; he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about Tyler at all. First he ignored Tyler for weeks, now this.
“There are always sex toys.” Tyler hoped his voice didn’t sound as unenthusiastic as he felt. A dildo wasn’t the same. No matter how realistic it looked, it wasn’t even close to the real thing. Not to mention that fucking himself with a sex toy took a lot of effort—his wrist fucking ached afterward—and he wasn’t as good at it as Nick was, which Tyler wasn’t embarrassed to admit. Nick was a gay man; it made sense that he would be better at fucking guys than a straight guy like Tyler.
“And you aren’t the only man with a cock, right?” Tyler added with forced humor, trying to ignore his uneasiness. He couldn’t imagine trusting some stranger—some gay dude he didn’t know and who might get the wrong idea about him—to fuck him in Nick’s stead.
“Right,” Nick said, his tone difficult to read, before falling silent.
The silence stretched, becoming uncomfortable.
Tyler chewed on his lip, feeling confused by the strange tension. His and Nick’s friendship had always been easy. It had no place for weird silences.
At last, Nick said tersely, “Good luck, then.”
And hung up.
Just like that.
Tyler glared at his phone, ugly disappointment churning in the pit of his stomach. After weeks of Nick’s absence, this wasn’t the reunion he’d had in mind. He’d thought…He’d thought Nick would have a good reason for ignoring him. Brad the Prat wasn’t a good reason, dammit.
Were they even friends anymore?
Was Nick really sick of him?
Hating how insecure and upset he felt, Tyler cut off that train of thought.
His jaw set, he downloaded the Grindr app onto his phone. He didn’t bloody need Nick. He could totally be fine without Nick.
And he was going to prove it.
Chapter 10
His name was Greg. He was twenty-seven, and he liked working out and fucking guys into the mattress—at least that was he’d told Tyler when they’d texted.
“Wow, you’re hot,” was the first thing Greg said when Tyler opened the door of the hotel room he’d rented.
Tyler stepped away when the guy tried to kiss him. “I told you—no kissing,” he ground out, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not gay. Don’t touch me.”
Greg laughed, flashing his straight white teeth. “It will be difficult if you want my prick in you, but whatever. You ain’t the first ‘straight’ guy thirsty for cock that I’ve fucked.”
Tyler glared at him, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. He shifted from one foot to the other, undressing slowly while Greg quickly stripped down. He wasn’t aroused in the least. He felt absolutely nothing except for the growing urge to run. What was he doing here? He wasn’t gay.
Even Greg’s hard cock wasn’t doing it for him. It looked weird. It wasn’t as straight as Nick’s; it was curved to the left. And although it was about the same size as Nick’s, it was nowhere near as pretty and mouthwatering. Tyler tried not to dwell on the fact that it was probably a cause for concern that he thought of his best mate’s cock as “mouthwatering.”
“Come on,” Greg said. Fully naked, he sat down on the bed, stroking his fat cock lazily before rolling a condom on. “Be a good straight boy and ride my cock. You know you want to.”
Tyler stared at the cock, trying to convince himself that it would feel good once he actually got it inside him. Wasn’t this what he wanted? It was. It had been weeks since he’d been fucked for real. He missed the feeling of a thick cock driving into him, missed losing himself in the pleasure of it. Dildos didn’t come anywhere close to the real thing. Anyway, Greg’s cock didn’t look all that bad. It was nice and thick and it would probably feel good. Tyler imagined it fucking him, and finally felt a jolt of arousal.
But then he made the mistake of glancing at the naked man the cock was attached to and it instantly killed his arousal. Like, it wasn’t as though Tyler had ogled Nick’s body during sex or something—Nick’s cock was the only thing he’d ever been interested in—but Nick’s body was…very nice to look at, objectively. Like, Tyler was straight, not blind. He could appreciate Nick’s toned muscles and well-groomed body even if they didn’t exactly turn them on. Nick had always smelled good, his skin clean and smooth. So yeah, Tyler didn’t mind looking at Nick. In contrast, Greg’s shoulder acne, hairy chest, and beer belly were kind of revolting.
Tyler frowned, beyond frustrated with himself. He didn’t understand. A nice cock was the only thing he had come here for, right? The rest of Greg’s body shouldn’t matter—he wasn’t gay to be interested in dudes’ bodies—but for some reason, it did matter. He’d never been less turned on in his life.