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But I did say that I would post an UNEDITED snippet of my next little peashooter, Men Of Smithfield:Cover Me. So post I shall. ::gulp:: I'm waiting to hear from my editor, Celina Summers. I'm not sure of the release date, but, uhm, it should be this fall. Signed the contract about a month ago.
I was going to post this to my website as well, but it's getting a face lift. So I'll hold off until things are settled there.
::crosses fingers:: Here goes.
Cover Me is the story of Michael 'Finn' Finnegan--English teacher and drama coach at swanky Dalton Prep (located in Smithfield, natch). Unfortunately for Michael, his former boss and one time fling, security specialist and retired marine Max Douglas, is on the scene--hired to protect a high profile student. Let's just say that the artsy Michael and the militant Max have different styles of leadership.
“I intend to lay down some very specific rules in this dormitory.”
“Max. We have rules. They’re clear and exist to protect us all.”
”They’re slack. And given your history of questionable judgment—"
“What do you mean questionable judgment?” It had been one time in his office!
“—and your obvious impulsiveness, I think you can understand that to ensure Hemmi’s safety, things need to change.”
I sputtered, “This isn’t the marines: it’s a high school.”
“Your legal history isn’t exactly a clean slate either, Michael.”
“Excuse me?”
He folded his arms across his chest, his sleeves straining across his biceps. “You had a run in with the law eight years ago, right here in town.”
I colored. “That’s off the record. That was expunged.”
“Not really. It shows poor judgment and a lack of control. You vandalized personal property.”
“He was married and I was pissed. I spray painted a dick on his car. So what? I was nineteen, Max. Didn’t you ever lose your temper when you were a kid?”
Max wasn’t interested in excuses. “No. You’re ruled by emotion and permissive. I don’t see that you’ve change all that much. You could accidentally cause more harm than good.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind, Max.” I said, reining in my hurt. How could he think I was a danger to the students because I was…what? Fair minded and kind?
I stormed into my tiny kitchen and threw the refrigerator door open looking for a Sprite. I popped the top on my soda and it let out the hiss I was trying to hold in. Naturally, it sprayed across the front of my turtleneck and into my crotch. “Shit.”
I 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 possible 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 grit out. “But the kid comes first.”
He shrugged and I notice 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.”
What an asshole.
“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 need to check those memos.
Max’s gaze grew hard, 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 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, strode toward the door, my goal 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 out of his clutches but he yanked and I tumbled into his chest. Fast, 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 both terrible and 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. Why did he have this effect on me?
“What the fuck, Max, quit man handling 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 licked my lips, 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's so amusing?”
“You, Michael.” He released his grip on my wrists and cupped my jaw and I just couldn’t help myself. Max had turned 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.
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.”
Copyright L.B. Gregg 2009
