Prescription for Love

by Radclyffe

  “This looks delicious,” Abby said. “And I’ll remember that.”

  Ida hummed and went back to laying out bacon into a skillet.

  Flann wasn’t the only one who’d been running. Abby’d been running from her own needs in the race to take care of everyone else’s for fifteen years. But she’d stopped running now, and the thought wasn’t the least bit scary.

  Now she had all the time in the world. She grabbed her coffee, piled more food than she usually ate in three meals onto a white porcelain plate, and traipsed out to the porch to join the others. She took the last rocker. “Okay, what’s the plan?”

  Carrie flipped open a loose-leaf binder that was sectioned with colored tabs and turned to the first section. “Okay—location and setup.” She pointed a matching colored pencil at Carson. “Since you know the homestead and the local vendors, you’re in charge of that. Tents, tables, chair rental, all that kind of thing. Okay?”

  “Got it,” Carson said. “We can just use the same people we did for my wedding. In fact, I still have the old lists.” She rummaged in a voluminous bag at her side and pulled out a stack of spreadsheets. “It’s been a few years, but it’s a starting place.”

  Carrie waggled her fingers. “Gimme.”

  For the next two hours, they divided up phone calls to vendors, discussed floral arrangements, menus, musicians, guest lists, childcare facilities, and the need for Porta-Potties versus comfort vans, all the time accompanied by a cacophony of power tools, pounding, shouts, and laughter coming from the direction of the barn. Men, women, girls, and boys drifted in and out of the kitchen, filling plates, and discussing weather, crops, sports, and opinions on the latest books and movies. Blake and Margie rushed in with a scrum of teens who acted as if they hadn’t seen food in a millennium. Abby noted Blake’s jubilant expression and avoided embarrassing him by calling out hello.

  By midday, the skeleton of the damaged portion of the barn had been erected and people swarmed over the roof, laying down new slate and tin. Abby kept an eye out for Flann but couldn’t find her until almost one when Flann walked over to an outdoor hose across the yard, turned it on, and doused her head and shoulders with water. Her wet T-shirt clung to her torso as she shook her head vigorously like a dog coming out of the lake after a particularly wonderful swim. When she brushed both hands through her soaked hair, she glanced at the back porch, caught Abby watching, and sent her an if-you-like-it-come-and-get-it smirk. Abby’s mouth went dry.

  She was about to take Flann up on her obvious invitation when a woman cut across Abby’s line of sight, moving like an arrow with Flann as her target. The svelte blonde sauntered as if on a New York runway and looked distinctly out of place among the cotton and denim crowd. Her jade capri pants and sleeveless raw silk shirt clung to her in a way that accentuated the curve of her shapely hips and full breasts. Her high-heeled sandals were definitely not meant for tramping around the barnyard.

  “Who’s that?” Abby said, hearing the edge in her voice and not caring.

  “Oh,” Carson said, “that’s Dr. Love.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Sydney Valentine. She’s a local vet. She got the nickname in high school, because—well, because all the boys and quite a few of the girls wanted to sleep with her, and the rest of us just wanted to be her.” Carson smiled wryly. “You know the type? Top of the class, captain of the tennis team, homecoming queen—everything every girl wanted to be. She broke the hearts of half the football team when she wouldn’t sleep with any of them and ran through most of the interested girls like a threshing machine too.”

  “I’m assuming Flannery was one of them,” Abby said, the desire to grab the blonde by her elegant neck and drag her away from Flann making her palms itch. She’d never had a physically violent thought in her life but decided she’d worry about what it meant later. When the vet put her hand on Flann’s upper arm, Abby rose. “Excuse me.”

  She strode across the yard, dodging children playing a pickup game of catch, and stepped up to Flann. “Are you ready for a break?”

  “Pretty quick,” Flann said. “Abby, this is Sydney Valentine. She runs the big vet clinic in Battenkill.”

  Up close, Sydney’s eyes were a chocolate brown, intelligent and appraising. She was stunning. Abby held out her hand and resisted the urge to pluck Sydney’s fingers from Flann’s arm. She did, however, make a point of staring at the offending appendage. “Abigail Remy. Nice to meet you.”

  Sydney laughed lightly and held out her hand. “Nice to meet you too. I was just telling Flann I would’ve been here earlier, but one of my clients had a mare who was having trouble foaling.” She smiled at Flann. “Thanks for calling and letting me know about today. I would have hated to miss the party.”

  “No problem,” Flann said easily.

  “It’s so nice to see everyone again.” Sydney looked pointedly at Flann. “It’s been too long.”

  Abby gritted her teeth and took Flann’s hand. “Your mother was looking for you.”

  “Sure,” Flann said, her brows quirked quizzically. “I’ll see you later, Syd.”

  “Of course.”

  Abby pulled Flann through the gaggle of kids toward the front of the house and away from the center of activity.

  “Really,” Flann said, laughing. “My mother?”

  “Never mind.” Abby strode across the porch and inside to the deserted foyer. The hallway beyond was dim and cool. They were alone. Abby, Flann in tow, marched toward the staircase.

  “Abs?” Flann asked.

  “You invited her?”

  Flann took the stairs two at a time to keep up with Abby’s rapid pace. “Yeah, I thought—”

  Abby stopped at the bedroom she’d stayed in the first time Flann had kissed her, pulled her inside, and shut the door. She turned and pressed Flann back against it. “Be careful what you say right now.”

  Flann’s eyes widened. “I thought I could introduce her to the kids. Help them get an in at the clinic.”

  Abby caught Flann’s chin in her hand and kissed her until Flann groaned and gripped her hips. She pulled back, breathless. “Good answer.”

  “Abby,” Flann said hoarsely. “What are you doing?”

  Abby smiled. “I’m staking my claim.”

  “I—”

  Abby pressed her fingers to Flann’s mouth. “I think you’ll get my meaning in a minute.”

  “You do realize where we are?”

  Abby laughed. “Do you think anyone’s paying any attention? In case you haven’t noticed, you can’t hear yourself think around this place for all the hammering and whatnot.” She skimmed her mouth down Flann’s neck and licked the hollow at the base of her throat. “Unless, of course, you’d rather leave.”

  “Hell no,” Flann whispered, tilting her head back against the door. She’d never been claimed before, never been taken, and suddenly she wanted that more than she’d ever wanted anything. She wanted to belong to Abby. “I don’t want to go anywhere at all.”

  “Good,” Abby whispered, tugging Flann’s T-shirt from her jeans. “Because you’re not going to.”

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  “The door,” Flann said hoarsely, words deserting her.

  “I’ll take care of that.” Abby reached back and turned the old-fashioned brass key in the lock. A clunk signaled the outside world was shut away.

  Nothing mattered now except the desire that bound them.

  Flann pressed her hands flat against the door. Abby wanted to be in charge. She couldn’t remember a time when a woman had made demands of her, other than that she satisfy her. She’d never minded, but this…this was something completely different. Something she hadn’t realized she wanted until just this moment, and now she wanted Abby’s hands on her more than she wanted her heart to keep beating.

  Abby grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt and yanked it up over her breasts. Flann automatically raised her arms and Abby stripped it off, dropping it behind them.

  Abby smiled
. “I’ve been wanting to see you without your shirt on since the first moment I saw you.”

  “You could have asked and I would—”

  Abby pressed her fingers to Flann’s mouth. “I don’t want you to say anything. I don’t want you to think about anything. The only thing I want is for you to feel what I’m doing to you.”

  Silently, Flann nodded. Her heart pounded so hard it had to be visible through her skin. Abby pressed both hands to her chest, splaying her fingers over Flann’s muscles, moving slowly back and forth as if taking her measure. Flann was never so happy in her life that she spent her spare time working around the farm. She had trouble catching her breath. She had trouble focusing. She blinked, searched for some place to hold on, and met Abby’s eyes. They weren’t hazy the way they got when they kissed. They were sharp and intent, glittering with hunger. Hunger for her. She couldn’t keep quiet. “Okay?”

  “Oh, honey. More than okay,” Abby murmured. “I love the way you look.” She slid her hands down Flann’s chest and cupped her breasts, lifting slightly so their weight fell into her palms. She brushed her thumbs over the tight tan nipples. “Look at you. So damn sexy.”

  “God,” Flann choked out. Everything was too slow, too soft, too perfect. Already blood was pounding between her legs, the beat like a frantic creature racing from a soaring hawk. She’d embarrass herself if she got much more excited. “Abby—”

  “I know,” Abby said gently, lowering her head and closing her lips around Flann’s nipple.

  The shock arrowed straight down her spine. Flann’s legs trembled and she locked her knees to keep upright. Her breasts tingled. Lightning coiled in her belly, a storm brewing, about to explode. Flann cupped Abby’s head, pressed her mouth harder to her breast. “Feels so good.”

  Lips curving in a triumphant smile, Abby took her time. She had all the time in the world now. This was where she belonged—this place, this world, this woman. She’d been searching and hadn’t even known it. She moved from one breast to the other, kissing the firm curves, nipping at the tender nipples, reveling in the rasp of Flann’s breath and the soft whimpers she doubted Flann even knew she was making. She brushed her mouth over the soft skin, a pirate claiming her treasure. Flann was hers and she intended to mark her in some deep, indelible place, in her body and her heart. “You’re mine.”

  “Yes,” Flann gasped.

  Abby kissed her way back to Flann’s mouth, delved inside, and slid a hand between their bodies. She flicked open the button on Flann’s pants.

  Flann muttered softly, “Need you, Abby. Please.”

  “I’m here.” But Abby had no intention of releasing her just yet. She dropped to her knees, gripped Flann’s waistband, and pulled her jeans down her legs. Of course she’d gone commando. Nothing ever reined Flann in, not clothes or convention. Only her. Only here, where all their secrets were exposed, where every need was celebrated, and every want satisfied. “Kick off those boots.”

  “I don’t think I can move. I want to come so bad.”

  “Mmm, I like that.” Abby kissed the base of Flann’s belly and reached down until she found the laces on Flann’s boots. She pulled them free. “Now, off.”

  Flann managed to kick free of her boots, and Abby pushed the jeans after them. Abby’s vision hazed. Flann was naked, arms spread against the door, waiting, ready. Her arms and legs were bronzed and sculpted, her breasts proudly lifting, her abdomen a tight plain of smooth skin and muscle. She was glorious.

  The sight of her, the taste of her, the scent of her desire stirred a madness Abby embraced with joy. Never in her life had she felt so powerful, or so blessed. She skimmed her fingers up the inside of Flann’s thighs, urging her to open. Flann’s body followed her commands, and Abby dipped her head and kissed her.

  “Damn!” Flann’s hips thrust forward, and she drove her fingers into Abby’s hair.

  Abby pressed her cheek to Flann’s thigh, struggling for enough control to continue. Flann’s need enflamed hers. She wanted to take her in, swallow her, drive her over the edge. But not yet. Not this first time. She raised her head, met Flann’s hooded gaze. “You’re gorgeous.”

  “Take what you want.” Flann’s face was stark with need and something more. Trust.

  Abby’s heart filled. “I want you. You, Flann. All of you.”

  Flann’s fingers trembled in Abby’s hair. “I’m yours. All of me.”

  “Here?” Abby stroked one finger between Flann’s thighs.

  “Yes. Yes, please.”

  “Mmm. Wait.” Abby followed the path of her finger with her mouth, traced the folds and valleys, closed her lips around Flann’s clitoris, circled her feather-light.

  Flann groaned. “Close, close.”

  Abby slid her arms around Flann’s hips and caressed her ass, held her firmly against her mouth, and sucked.

  Flann’s head banged back against the door. A hoarse cry wrenched from her throat, and her fingers convulsed on Abby’s neck. She came hard in Abby’s mouth, pumping once, twice, a third frantic thrust of her hips. Abby kept up the long easy strokes until Flann sagged with a tortured groan.

  Abby rose quickly, cinched an arm around Flann’s waist, and kissed her. Not done yet. She wanted more. She cupped her, eased inside. “Again.”

  Flann moaned and tightened around her. Abby stroked, slowly at first until she felt Flann tense and grip her harder. She kissed her, increasing her tempo and swallowing her moans. Flann grabbed her shoulders so tightly she’d probably leave marks. Abby didn’t care. She reveled in the feel of Flann coming apart in her arms. When Flann came again, Abby pressed her mouth to the wild pulse in Flann’s neck. Mine.

  “Done,” Flann finally gasped. “I think you fucking killed me.”

  Abby laughed, the triumphant sound of a warrior trumpeting her victory. “I certainly hope not. I’m not done with you.”

  “I don’t ever want you to be done,” Flann said fervently.

  Abby leaned back, cupped Flann’s face in both hands. “I never will be. I love you, Flann.”

  “I need you Abby.” Flann kissed her. “I love you, if you’ll have me. I swear—”

  “You’re already mine, Flann,” Abby whispered and kissed her back.

  Flann caught her second wind midway through the kiss. Abby loved her. Abby wanted her. Abby was hers, as she was Abby’s. She slipped an arm behind Abby’s shoulders, the other under her knees, and picked her up.

  “Flann! What—”

  Laughing, Flann strode four paces to the bed and dumped Abby in the center. Abby shrieked and Flann straddled her hips, already unbuttoning the sexy shirt she was wearing.

  Abby raised up so Flann could get it off and her underwear followed. Then the shorts and Abby was naked, spread out before her and so beautiful Flann forgot to breathe.

  “You’ll forgive me,” Flann muttered, sliding between Abby’s legs, “if I don’t go slow the first time.”

  Abby laughed, wild and reckless. “Who wants slow? Hurry.”

  Flann’s mouth came to Abby’s breast at the same time as her hand slid between her legs. The fire that had been burning in Abby’s depths for days roared to life and she arched, pushing against Flann’s fingers. She grabbed her wrist, pushed her deeper. “I want you to make me come. Right now.”

  Flann’s teeth closed on Abby’s nipple just hard enough to send a jolt burning through her clitoris. She arched her hips, rode Flann’s hand, and closed her eyes as everything inside her unraveled. She lost count of how many times she crested, lost awareness, lost everything except the sensation of Flann above her, inside her, owning her. At last she lay boneless with Flann stretched out on top of her. She had just enough energy to kiss her neck.

  “That is unequivocally the best sex I’ve ever had,” Abby murmured in a voice she didn’t recognize. Throaty and obscenely satisfied.

  Flann chuckled against her throat. “Wait till the next time.”

  Abby stroked her hair. “Will that be soon?”

  �
�I sincerely hope so.”

  “You do realize it’s a package deal?” Abby wasn’t so far gone not to know she couldn’t be so exposed without being sure. For once in her life, she wanted to be selfish. She wanted it all.

  Flann marshaled her strength and pushed herself up on her elbow. Her face was loose and relaxed and she looked years younger. And supremely satisfied. Such an arrogant, gorgeous woman. Abby’s heart clenched. Please.

  “If you mean Blake, of course I know that. If you’d let me be part of his life, I would be honored.”

  “You know you already are part of his life. And mine.” Abby caught her lip between her teeth and waited until her voice was steady. “I’m going to want the whole deal, you know. That means you and only you for me. And same for you. The three of us, together.”

  Flann’s brows drew together. “That works for me, for now.”

  Abby’s throat closed. “For now?”

  Flann kissed her throat, the valley between her breasts, the place where her heart beat. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, but I was thinking we might work on a sister or brother for Blake.”

  “I’m almost thirty-five years old.” Abby stroked Flann’s face. “So I suppose we should get started fairly soon.”

  Flann grinned. “Let’s find a house and get Blake settled at school. Then you say when.”

  “We should probably tell Blake about us first. He’ll be so happy.”

  “Then that makes three of us.”

  Abby pulled Flann down beside her and curled up with her head on Flann’s shoulder. “I’m afraid he’ll want a farm.”

  “Plenty of those around. Maybe we can compromise and get a reasonable-sized spread closer to town.” Flann stroked her arm, her talented surgeon’s fingers tracing light patterns on her skin that set Abby ablaze again. “A barn, some pastureland, but not so big we can’t handle it ourselves.”

  Abby nuzzled her neck. “I want to see the river. I love the sound of the water at night.”

  “Anything.” Flann tilted her chin and kissed her. “Anything you want.”