Page 1 of Foul & Fake
Chapter 1
Edged
RILEY
Oh, god.
Moaning, my lips part and my hips rise as I press my vibrator a little harder against my clit. I’m lost in how it feels, the way the heat pools in my stomach, the waves of pleasure that take me higher. The little jolts of pain I feel when I pinch my nipple.
I don’t even need porn this time.
Dennis’ text promising he’ll put me on my knees later gave birth to a thousand fantasies, and I’m lost.
As it builds, I roll my hips, gripping the base of the wand as I ride it, teasing myself when the vibrations reach where I want them and disappear again. It feels good, so good, that I think I’ll get there faster than I wanted to.
Fuck it.
I’ve earned this.
Giving in, I focus the head on my clit and spread my legs, pushing up just enough to get the angle right. There it is. Fuck, just like that.
Just like…
My dorm room door flies open and scares the hell out of me. Without thinking, I whip my vibrator at the intruder walking in,and it smacks right into the phone in his hand and bounces off his chest onto the floor.
Who the —
Wait, I know him. I don’t know his name, but I’ve seen those playful, honey-brown curls and those russet eyes around campus.
“Get out,” I hiss, scrambling up to grab my robe and wrap it around my naked body. “Get out!!”
“Holy shit,” he says with a chuckle, his wide gaze flicking between me and my vibrator multiple times before he remembers his phone is trained on me and hastily pockets it. “Uh… want some help?”
My entire body flushes red as I pull my robe a little tighter. Yes, he just edged me right before a perfectly good orgasm, but I don’t know this man. “No. Were you recording me?”
Slowly, he bends over to pick up my best friend in the whole world and spins it around with an infuriatingly entertained expression. “Damn, it’s shiny. How close were you?”
I take a second to catch my breath and take him in a little better, hating how fucking handsome he looks even though I try to blame my hormones for noticing. He’s wearing a silver chain with a cross hanging from it, slightly baggy jeans and a burgundy and blue sports jersey I couldn’t pick out of a line up if there was a gun to my head, and that’s when it hits me who he is. I still don’t know his name, but I do know he plays… something.
Fuck jocks, especially the ones with dimples.
Big, adorable dimples.
“Close. Were you recording me?” I ask again, tucking my hair behind my ear. “Give me your phone.”
He takes a second to bite his lip and scan my frame as he pulls it back out, and it’s not lost on me that he’s still holding my vibrator. “Come take it for yourself.”
My cheeks burn even hotter as I stomp forward, holding my robe closed with one arm as I reach for his phone with the other. This close, our height difference is overwhelming — and the giant shit holds his arm up so high, I’d have to grow a foot just to reach it.
“Who are you and why are you even in here?” I grunt out, trying to pull his arm down without exposing myself again. “Seriously?”
I jerk away when his other hand falls to my hip so he doesn’t get any ideas, and when he starts laughing, I have the sudden urge to hit him in the nuts. “Do you always jack off with your glasses on? It’s hot.”
Okay, I hate him.
What the hell am I supposed to do when he won’t answer any of my questions?
“Do you always barge into people’s dorm rooms without knocking? How did you even get in here? The door was locked.”
