Page 13 of Manhattan Tormentor

“What’s it gonna be today, slash his tires? Steal something?”

My stomach muscles clench up like a fist at his cruelty enjoyment. My instinct screams at me to defend Sage. Which is crazy, seeing as I’m the one messing with him.

I’ve turned into my father without realizing.

“Nah,” I finally squeeze out through my tight throat, knocking my knuckles on his open car door as he starts it up. I take a step back. “See you in a few, bro.”

“Don’t be long. I can’t handle all the babes alone. Actually…” he flashes a smirk. “I can. There’s a lot of me to go around.”

I laugh, we bump fists and it’s only as Bates drives off do I let my body tension go limp and I turn on my heel fast.

Without caution, I’m following the nerds’ tracks before I can tell myself it’s an idiotic idea.

I’ve spoon fed myself a lot of lies lately. Lies I choke on.

My feelings aren’t real.

Drink. Party. Torment. Cruelty.

That’s who I am.

I hate a gay guy not because he’s tried to kiss me, come on to me, or even show an interest in me. Only because my body reacted to his when we bumped. And then he infiltrated my thoughts thereafter.

I’m holding someone else accountable formychemical rewiring.

It’s nothing to do with him being a hot little shit and noticing how hot he is.

He is flames in a sea of ice. A glass of water after a five-hour workout.

He’s a tight fist around a needy cock.

I can’t stop thinking about him or how he looks at me as though he pities me.

I’m levels above Fierro and hepities me.

It’s as though he’s figured me out.

And I hate it.

I don’t want him to see through my facade.

And at the same time, I do anything I can for him to look at me.

Pathetic.

My feet eat up the steps. My heart is frantic. And when I smell the chlorine in the air, I’m in time to see him dive in and cut through the water.

The nerd is a hot swimmer. He hardly makes a ripple through the water as he swims underneath. His body elongated with his arms locked together in a curve as he undulates like a fish.

I don’t realize I’m panting until I catch the noise.

My dick is hard in my pants.

He’s the only guy I’ve gotten hard for.

Over the months, I’ve put myself through a barrage of gay porn in hopes of… what? That I’m gay now and it’s not just the nerd who does it for me?

I’d understand it better if I were gay for every man and not just him.

---