Prescription For Love (The Kingsley Series)

by Kennedy, Brandi

  Cameron laughed. "Of course it is! This one's over though, so I'm ready to go if you are."

  "Actually, I can't find all your stuff," Mac said, his hand rising up to find the back of his neck.

  Cameron's eyebrows came together, confusion darkening her eyes. "My bag's in the backseat," she said. "You know, that's the one behind the front seat?"

  "Silly. There's only the one bag, then?"

  "Yep. You said pack light. Is the bag too big?"

  "Nope, if that's all you've got, then we're good. I was afraid you'd be one of those girls with a suitcase and three makeup bags or something. And sixty-five pajamas."

  Cameron raised her eyes to his and stepped close, her palms flattening on his chest. "I didn't bring any," she said quietly.

  Raising an eyebrow, Mac glanced over her shoulder in search of his mother. Finding himself alone with Cameron, he dropped his hands low on her hips. "You didn't bring any makeup?" he murmured, gently bumping the tip of his nose to hers.

  Tilting her head, Cameron brought their lips together, her tongue sneaking out to tease the curve of his lip. "Pajamas. I didn't bring any pajamas," she said. Her lips curved in a smile against his lips as his mouth fell open, and she stepped away from him. "Ready to go?" she asked.

  "Oh, believe me," he muttered, "I'm ready to go." Cameron laughed, stepping back as Logan's voice sounded through the door, just before the door flew open and he was inside, happily chattering.

  "While you guys are gone," he said, "I bet you're gonna kiss a lot, aren't you?"

  "Well, I might kiss her once or twice. You know, good night kisses and stuff,” Mac teased. “But we're gonna go hiking, too, and maybe swimming, and probably watch some TV. Maybe eat some good food, normal weekend vacation stuff."

  "And kissing. Like this," Logan cackled, making exaggerated kissing noises and flopping his head back and forth dramatically.

  Cameron shook her head, laughing at the boy's antics. "Been practicing that little move, have you?" she asked.

  Logan laughed. "No, I don't practice that stuff. I asked Dad about kissing once, and he says it comes natural to Caswells. He said we don’t need practice; it’s in the blood." Tipping his face, he winked and turned to leave the room.

  Dropping her hands on her hips, Cameron turned to Mac. "Wow, really? That's some confidence you have there, Mr. Caswell. Kissing just comes naturally, huh? All that natural talent, you must just have the ladies falling all over themselves. And no practice at all. Hmm."

  "Well, maybe I could practice a little," Mac said with a grin. "When we get there. You ready to go?"

  ***

  Balanced on the back of the heavy touring motorcycle, Cameron locked her fingers together over the flat hardness of Mac's stomach. She was battling the urge to change her mind, to tell Mac she'd rather they took her car. She’d gotten used to riding with him on his own motorcycle, but this one was much bigger and much heavier. She wondered if it would balance as well. But then he settled back and lifted the kickstand, and the bike roared to life. Mac's body pressed snugly between her thighs, his shoulders pressing her breasts deliciously flat and the muscles of his back rippling along the surface of her own flat stomach.

  Cameron pressed her helmet to the curve of his shoulder, closing her eyes and trusting him to operate the bike, reminding herself to believe in his strength and his inherent sense of caution. She breathed in, feeling her stomach press along the length of Mac's back as she enjoyed the free feeling of flying along with him. The vibration and power of the bike beneath her teamed with the strength and safety of the man before her, and soon her nipples were pebbled, pressing uncomfortably against his shoulder blades.

  Forced to lean back, Cameron opened her eyes again, watching through the face guard in her helmet, surprised to realize how far they’d already gone. Unfortunately, that sense of renewed awareness didn't last long; as they rode along, she grew increasingly aware that the juncture between her thighs was tightly pressed against Mac's rear, her thighs wide to give him room. The heat pooling there was sufficient to keep her warm in spite of the wind from the bike's speed, and by the time they'd reached the interstate, Cameron was a live wire.

  "Too bad we didn't take my car," she muttered to herself, her voice muffled and echoing slightly in the confines of the helmet she wore. "We could have pulled over so I could find out what it's like to ride a man in the woods on the side of a back road." With her hands still laced tightly around Mac's stomach, the temptation to let them drift lower grew stronger and stronger until she eventually wiggled back some on her perch and moved her hands to his sides to keep from distracting him.

  Mac couldn't help noticing the slice of cold air that slipped between him and Cameron as she moved away from him slightly. Much as I hate that little space between us, she just might be making the right decision to keep us both alive, he thought, grinning to himself, painfully aware of the throbbing hardness in his lap. She'd been riding tightly pressed against him, and he could only guess what her thoughts were as he'd become slowly aware of her nipples hardening and pressing into his back before she'd moved away. She was like a circle of heat around his hips and waist, her thighs clutching him, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his stomach that she probably hadn't been aware of. He'd been able to live with that - barely - until her hands had started to move lower, just slightly fluttering down to the waistband of his jeans. That's when she'd moved back, perhaps becoming aware of herself, or maybe aware of the aroused haze he was now riding in.

  He wanted to pull the bike over, find a quiet place to lay her down, or barring that, he'd settle for bending her over the seat of the bike like a randy teenager and ...

  "Good God, man, shut that off and pay attention," he lectured himself quietly. Driving on, he counted the exits as they passed them, watching for the one that would take them to the Caswell vacation house.

  With her hands more modestly placed and a little space between their bodies, Cameron was better able to control the pace of her thoughts; before long, the raging fire in the space between her thighs had died down to a slow simmer and she was able to focus on the sights as they rode. The interstate had gone on for so long that Cameron was beginning to get a bit saddle-sore by the time Mac directed the bike down an off-ramp and onto a wooded road that seemed to cut right through a deep forest. Sitting back and stretching as best she could without falling off the bike, Cameron watched the trees flow by, an endless sea in shades of green hovering over the endless browns of the tree trunks.

  As they left the trees behind, Mac's nerves came alive again, and he grew increasingly nervous. The last time he'd made this drive had been in a rental car with Alex and Logan; she'd wanted to see the family vacation place one last time before admitting the defeat of death. It had been a quiet week, the young family spending the last of Alex’s healthy days together before going home to watch her waste away. Mac hadn’t been back since Alex’s death; going back would be an emotional thing, like bringing his new love to meet the one he'd lost so long ago.

  He hoped that on the return drive, he'd have the anticipation of a new and renewed life with a new marriage. He also hoped he'd be able to let go of the more depressing memories, creating happier times to hold on to, brand new memories of time spent in the vacation house with Cameron. He wanted fresh, happy memories to carry him into his old age.

  ***

  Passing through the trees, Cameron sighed. Much as she enjoyed the ride, wrapped tightly around Mac as they traveled closer to wherever he was taking her, she was growing terribly impatient. Soon though, the trees were a memory and the road had cleared. They'd passed through a small town area; it wasn’t long before even that was behind them and Cameron could see water off in the distance.

  She waited, leaning into Mac as she watched the road pass by, surprised when he turned down a side street and rode parallel to the water. The ocean.

  "The beach?" she whispered. It was the beach; she sat back, watching the water crash over itself in wild w
aves as Mac steered the bike down a long gravel path. They skidded around a curve, and the house was in sight for the first time. It was a small beach cottage with a high pointed roofline, and it had a short chimney standing proudly apart from the slope of the roof. The grass was short and green, but it was sparse, dissolving slowly into the sand of the beach, sand which stretched luxuriously toward the ocean.

  Mac shut the bike down and sat back. He felt the absence of Cameron's body as she moved away and carefully dismounted the bike; he filled with nervousness as she strode away from him. Would she like the quiet isolation of the little Caswell cottage? He watched her approach the water, wondering if he'd made the right decision in bringing her here. He couldn't read her feelings in the silence, and the last thing he wanted was to ruin what he’d brought her here for.

  She dropped to the sand, kneeling with her back to him, and he fought the urge to run to her, to rush in and rescue her from whatever she was thinking. Instead, he held back, seating the motorcycle firmly and dropping the kickstand into place before walking slowly toward her.

  "I can't believe this place," she said quietly, hearing his approach. "I've never been to the beach before. I can’t believe I’m here. The beach."

  "Okay," he answered cautiously. Looking over, he took in her posture; she was light and relaxed, her face awed as she watched the ocean. Finally, he breathed again. He carried his own tension though, tension she hadn’t yet noticed; his own memories of this place were laced with his memories of Alex.

  "This place is really something," she murmured. "It's yours?"

  "It is," he said. "It's been in my family since my grandparents bought it when I was little."

  "Does Logan like it here?" she asked.

  "He does." Mac lowered himself to the sand, settling beside her and reaching out to take her hand.

  "Did his mother like it here? Alex?"

  Mac sighed. So that was it, then. Alex. Was she worried that she couldn't compare? Other women had been. Was she simply intimidated by the memories in this place? Only one way to find out. "She did," he said. "She would come here often, even without me sometimes, just to get away, take a break. She used this place like a retreat haven. We came here together, Alex and I, before she, uh, died."

  "Mac, stop worrying," Cameron said, turning to face him. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through, for the way you lost her. And I'm sorry Logan has been so hurt without her. But I just," she broke off with a sigh of her own before continuing. "I just want to thank you for bringing me here, for sharing this with me. This place is beautiful; I can see why she loved it.” Her dark eyes lit and shimmered in the evening light, and he couldn't hold back anymore. Reaching out, he took her face in his hands and pulled her close, kissing her lightly before pressing her head into the curve of his neck and bracing his chin on her head.

  "I was afraid to bring you here," he said.

  "Don't be. You can't cut off all the parts of your life that you shared with her, and I wouldn't want you to. But are you sure there's a place for me?"

  Thinking of the sparkling ring still waiting in the bottom of his bag, tucked safely into the front storage of the luxury bike he'd borrowed to bring her here, Mac smiled into her hair. "There's a place for you," he answered. "If you want it."

  "Mmm, well after that ride we just had, I definitely want something," Cameron teased, lifting her face to kiss the line of his jaw.

  "Really?" Mac murmured, letting his head drop back as her tongue slid over the column of his throat.

  "Uh huh," she answered, rising up on her knees and pressing his back to the sand.

  "What is it that you want then?" he groaned, as Cameron nipped the lobe of his ear playfully.

  "You know, I think I really do want something. Like, in an out-of-control way. And I really, really want it,” she said.

  “Uh huh,” he groaned as she licked a hot line down his throat.

  “I want … Hmm, what do I want? I think I want … a sandwich," she whispered, laughing as a frustrated groan escaped him. She rose, though he grabbed at her playfully. She escaped his reaching hands, and walked toward the cottage with a rolling laugh, leaving him helpless in the sand.

  "Oh, dear God, help me," he muttered, grinning to himself as he rose to follow her. By the time he'd gotten himself together and walked into the cottage, she'd made herself comfortable, sitting on the edge of the counter with her feet dangling down toward the floor. She hadn't found anything to make her sandwich with, but she had discovered an unopened box of cereal. As he walked through the door, she smiled over at him, popping pieces of cereal into her mouth as he sauntered over and spread her knees to stand between them.

  "Hungry?" she asked, her eyes gleaming as she tilted her face. "It was a long, long, hot ride."

  "Yes it was," he answered, his hands slipping around her waist to drag her to the edge of the counter. He took the cereal box from her lap and pulled her hips more snugly in line with his own, grinding into the tender flesh of her center. "And I'm famished."

  Cameron squealed as his arms tightened around her hips, a band of iron tugging her closer and closer to the place where their bodies pressed warmly together. "Mac, you can't, I’m heavy!" she gasped, wrapping her arms and legs around him desperately as her rear left the counter, only the strength of his arms keeping her from the floor.

  "Oh, baby, I can," he said, trailing kisses down her face and jaw. "And I'm gonna."

  ***

  "Come on. I want you to see something," he said, some time later. Rolling closer to her, he planted a kiss on her chin, trailing down her throat as she sighed.

  "Mac. Oh Mac. Please Mac, can't we just stay here?" Cameron pulled him close again, her bare arms snaking around his neck, her fingers losing themselves in his hair. "We could just be here in this bed, and never get up the whole time."

  "Wouldn't you get hungry?" he asked, laughing up at her from between her breasts. His hand rested on the curve of her hip, his thumb tracing circles next to her belly button.

  "Maybe," she answered, her voice a soft sigh as he lowered his head again.

  "Mmm," he said, kissing a hot line down the trembling muscles of her stomach. "If you stay in bed and don't get out for showers, you're going to get awfully dirty."

  "Uuhnn," she moaned softly, arching her back as his mouth passed the juncture of her thighs and traveled down the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. "We can hope, I suppose."

  He laughed softly, nipping at the side of her knee as he passed, lifting her leg to drop kisses down the length of her calf. He kissed her ankle, kissed the arch of her foot, and set it back in the bed. As he stood, Cameron sat up, clutching the sheet to her breasts as her mouth fell open. "Mackenzie Caswell, where the hell do you think you're going?"

  Still laughing, he wandered naked from the room. "Come with me, my dear!" he shouted back. "I'll be out back."

  "Out back?" Cameron echoed. "I'm supposed to follow him out back, with no clothes on, no idea where we are, and no idea what he wants me out back for. I don't think so." Scrambling out of the bed, Cameron stooped to yank Mac's t-shirt from the floor. Pulling it over her head as she stepped into the living room of the cottage, she thrust her arms through the sleeves, loving the scent of his cologne as it wafted up to her face.

  She opened the back door of the cottage cautiously, peering around the edge of the door as Mac's t-shirt tickled the tops of her thighs. He stood, still naked, leaning comfortably against the side of the porch railing. Bubbling beside him was the largest hot tub she'd ever seen, and Cameron couldn't stop her mouth from falling open. Mac grinned, lowering himself to sit on the edge of the hot tub. His eyes traveled from her mussed hair to her naked legs, slowly moving back up, his grin widening as he watched her nipples harden under his scrutiny.

  "I didn't know I'd need a bathing suit," Cameron said accusingly.

  "You don't," Mac answered. "There's no one around for miles, and even the beach is private. It’s part of the property for a good distance in
either direction. Come play with me. The water's nice," he mocked, running his hand through the bubbling water. "But no shirts allowed," he finished. "Sorry." Turning, he swung his legs over the top of the hot tub and slipped into the water, careful not to splash on the pile of towels he'd set beside the hot tub.

  "Towels," Cameron muttered. "You think of everything, don't you?"

  "Cameron, no one's going to see you but me. And I’ve seen, and I love what I’ve seen, so take that off and come on," Mac pleaded.

  With a sigh and a last cautious look around, Cameron allowed her hands to drop to the hem of the t-shirt. Mac's eyes followed immediately, and she grinned wickedly. Clutching the hem of the shirt, she lifted it just slightly, watching his eyes widen in response. Raising the hem on only one side, she revealed the curve of a bare hip, watching as his lips parted.

  "You kill me," he whispered, motionless as he took in her impromptu tease. He sucked in a breath as she lowered the shirt, letting it fall back again.