B 11
Get Raw!
An excerpt from Cover Me by L.B. Gregg
The Third in the Men of Smithfield Series
Coming in October from Aspen Mountain Press

Continued trom previous page

went back into the living room looking like I’d pissed myself, threw myself into a chair and spat, “What is wrong with you? How could you possibly think I could be a risk to anyone?”

“You engage in risky behavior.”

Touché, but I needed to set him straight.

“Fine. I expect two things while you are here.” His brow hiked. Too bad. I thrust a finger at him, and not the one I wanted to. “One: that you do not use this bullshit superiority complex on me. Just be straight with me and we’ll get along. And two: that you do not question my authority in the dorm or in the classroom. Treat me like an adult colleague because here we are equally in charge. I don’t answer to you—I work with you.”

“I’ll do the best I can.” He said through his teeth. “But the kid comes first.”

He shrugged. I noticed the fit of his jacket and a new troubling thought presented itself. “Max, are you armed? Because you can’t have a weapon on campus. Not with these kids. It’s absolutely prohibited. We have zero tolerance.”

“You let me worry about weaponry, Michael; you worry about Shakespeare.”

I saw red. “That’s exactly what I mean about being condescending. I’m telling you, we cannot have firearms in the dorm.” Could Bibby have approved of this and not told anyone? I needed to check those memos.

Max’s eyes grew hard and that twitch flicked once in his jaw. “I’m not going to tell you again. I’m protecting this kid. When I’m with him, yes, I’m armed. That’s my job.”

“You’d shoot someone?” I was shocked.

“If need be. I would. Why do you look surprised? If that kid’s life, or yours, or anyone else’s were in jeopardy, I’d do what was required.”

“I thought this was precautionary. Do we need the police?”

His voice hardened; his attitude, if possible, grew more superior. “What, you’re going to ask the local yokel to stop by when there’s no obvious threat? It doesn’t work that way.”

“Then you need to tell me if things escalate.”

He nodded tersely. “I will, but if you impede my ability to do my job, we have a problem.”

“Why in hell would I do that? Jesus.” I jumped up and strode toward the door. My goal was to throw his ass out of my place, but that fast bastard grabbed my arm as I passed, stopping me cold. I tried to jerk from his clutches but he yanked and I tumbled into his chest. He gripped both my wrists in one large hand and my breath huffed out in shock. I struggled to free myself. Damn he was strong. And his touch was exhilarating. It should be revolting, but my skin tingled where his fingers met. “What the hell…let me go, Max.”

“I don’t think so.” He was in my space, pinning me, and he stepped close. I drew back, alarmed, and bumped into the bookshelf as his chest brushed mine. Our eyes met and my heart froze.

No. No. No.

“What the fuck, Max, quit manhandling me. Let. Me. Go.” I wriggled to free myself, keeping my tone firm, but I was breathless and he heard it. I watched his pupils dilate and his grip turned bruising.

“You are such a….distraction. Always so puffed up and bristling. You’ve been that way all day. I shouldn’t like it. I should not be attracted to you, but for whatever reason, I can’t help myself.” His gaze slid hotly to my mouth. “And neither can you.”

“In your dreams.”

He moved closer, his mouth hovering near enough that his breath touched my lips.
“You…I…You’re supposed to… ask for consent.”

“Am I?”

I reared away and his look turned confident. Apparently he was turned on by the chase—and I was turned on by being chased. An unexpected dimple creased his cheek and then, exactly like the first time, he touched the corner of my mouth with his tongue and quickly withdrew.

Something unfurled inside me. Some part of him…woke me. Muscle memory?

I tightened my lips and then that son of a bitch pulled out the big guns and floored me with a boyish smile that was all charm and mischief.

Oh shit, I was toast.

“What?”

“Nothing, Michael.” He released his grip on my wrists and cupped my jaw and I just couldn’t help myself. Max was suddenly tender and affectionate and like a fool I caved completely, rubbing the evening stubble on my chin into the warm flesh of his palm with a satisfying skritch. He was strong and right and like a magnet, I was drawn to him.

Max hooked an arm around my back; I guess he was afraid that I’d bolt. He pressed my hips into the cradle of his muscular thighs, our zippers scraped in the quiet room. His thumb pulled my lip and I burrowed into his jacket, steadied by the heat coming from his body, ready to let him kiss me. Let him? I’d participate with enthusiasm. Lifting that tiny fraction I closed my eyes—

Bang bang bang on the door and I jettisoned Max away with a two-handed hard shove to his pecs. He thumped back into the wall, surprised.

“Mr. Finn!”

“Shit!” I touched the back of my hand to my mouth, then righted my cock. There was a swirl of the teaming dorm life on the other side of that door. How soon one forgets. “Yeah, hang on a sec!” I called back.Max asked lazily, “So, we’re all set here, right? I need to find the kid.”

“What? Christ, Max. Give me a second to process, okay?” Turned on and overeager, he was currently two for two. He always had the upper hand. Not that I seemed to mind during the festivities, but our dismount needed major work. I threw the door open to see what the boys wanted as Max brushed past me and I counted the reasons not to let him near me again.

I remembered he had a gun and my lust evaporated.

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