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Just a Bit Gay (Straight Guys #9)
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Tyler Meyer is totally straight. But then the hot woman he’s hooking up with sticks her finger where she shouldn’t, and suddenly he’s not so sure… Straight guys can like that sort of thing too, right?
Except things get confusing–and frustrating–when fingers and toys aren’t quite enough.
Enter Nick Hardaway, Tyler’s best friend. What’s a little fun between bros, right?
Warning: This novella contains explicit MM content, feminization, and derogatory dirty talk.
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Normally, Tyler Meyer wasn’t one to blame a hot girl for trying something new in bed—hey, he was an open-minded twenty-four-year-old guy with a healthy sex drive—but he didn’t think it was totally unreasonable to ask for some warning before the girl he was hooking up with shoved a finger up his ass.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” he said with a chuckle, looking down at the naked blonde between his thighs. The view was fantastic, the curve of her waist and ass making him twitch in her mouth, but the wet finger in Tyler’s ass was weirding him out too much to fully appreciate the view.
Erica stopped sucking his cock long enough to grin and say, “Relax. Maybe you’ll like it. My ex liked having a finger up his ass during a blowjob. Said it felt more intense.”
Tyler shook his head with a laugh. “I’m not into that kind of thing, babe—”
She crooked her finger and Tyler saw stars, his body convulsing as he let out what was probably a mix of a scream and a moan. He came, and it felt like he kept coming and coming, his body trembling with pleasure.
When Tyler was finally able to focus his gaze again, he found Erica staring at him with a stunned look on her face.
“Wow,” she said faintly before smirking. “Not into it, huh?”
Tyler flushed, feeling uneasy, embarrassed, and a little freaked out, so he quickly rolled them over and went down on her until she forgot even her own name, much less…that incident.
Afterward, as he put her in a cab and took a long shower, Tyler tried not to think about what had happened. It wasn’t a big deal.
* * *
“Out with it.”
“What?” Tyler said into his beer.
“You’ve got something on your mind,” Nick said. “Spill.”
Tyler put his beer down and looked at his best friend across the table before flicking his gaze around the pub. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, man.”
Sighing, Tyler returned his gaze to Nick, who just raised his eyebrows expectantly. Sometimes Tyler hated how well Nick knew him. Like, they were bros and all, but it fucking sucked to be such an open book to Nick. It had always annoyed Tyler back when they were in secondary school together—Nick had never bought his bullshit when Tyler boasted about his conquests. Nick had always just humored him with that annoyingly amused look in his eyes whenever Tyler…exaggerated things a little.
It was annoying that he still couldn’t lie to Nick for shit, even after all these years. It wasn’t like they lived in each other’s pockets nowadays. They didn’t go to the same school anymore: Nick was in law school while Tyler hadn’t bothered with uni after sixth form, choosing to work at his family’s pub instead. They had different friends these days, different interests and everything.
But fuck it. Nick Hardaway was still his best friend. They were bros for life; Tyler knew that. They hadn’t lost contact even in the year Tyler had lived with his grandparents in L.A. When he’d returned to London, their friendship was as solid as ever. Tyler had been the first person Nick had come out to, the person Nick had trusted the most. Like, they didn’t really talk about feelings—they weren’t little girls—but they both knew they had each other’s back, no matter what.
Which was why Tyler was considering sharing his…problem with Nick.
Licking his lips, Tyler stared at his best friend uncertainly.
Nick stared back, his gray eyes expectant.
“Remember the blonde I hooked up with a few days ago?” Tyler said.
Nick took a slow sip from his beer, and there was something like curiosity in his eyes now. Nick knew Tyler didn’t get worked up over his hookups. Tyler hooked up a lot; it was easy, fun, and uncomplicated, which was basically his life motto.
“The one who was groping your prick on the dance floor?” Nick said.
“Yeah,” Tyler said, leaning back in his seat with a smirk.
Nick snorted. “Drop that stupid smirk. You look like a prat. A bigger one than you normally are.”
“The girls that go home with me every night clearly disagree with you, and sorry, their opinion is the one that counts.”
Nick laughed. “It’s fucking adorable that you really think they fuck you because of your stupid smirk. Thank your parents for their genes. That’s the only reason you get laid. Though, personally, I don’t see the appeal.”
Tyler rolled his eyes. Privately, he always thought Nick overdid it a little with the whole…not finding him attractive thing. It was a bit insulting, really. He wasn’t some kind of homophobic prick. Nick should have known better by now. He wasn’t going to run away screaming if Nick admitted that Tyler was hot—objectively speaking.
Like, Tyler was perfectly aware he was a little conceited, but it was for a reason, okay? It wasn’t his fault that women were so into him. He was a good-looking dude, objectively. He had nice, dark blond hair and blue eyes. Chicks were crazy about his eyes—which, truth be told, Tyler didn’t get, but whatever.