Going the Distance (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Cara Addison

  He lunged and pressed deep into her, the intensity of his thrusts growing into a frenzy of motion. They were completely consumed with each other, oblivious to the repeated pounding on the ceiling by their upstairs neighbor. “Christ, you’re coming again, aren’t you,” he muttered as Austin pressed her hips against him, her body writhing underneath him.

  “Please come with me, Brett,” she gasped. “Please.”

  He delivered another series of quick thrusts before joining her. “Fu-u-u-ck,” he called out as he came. He crumbled on the sheets beside her, lying face-to-face with her. Her hand came to rest between her legs, her eyelids closing heavily.

  Brett looked down. “Are you okay?”

  “Hmmm,” she murmured, a smile on her lips. With her eyes still closed, she found his hand and placed his fingers against her throbbing pussy. “Can you feel it?” she asked quietly, resting her fingers overtop of his. Blood was still pounding through her pelvis.

  “Are you still coming?” he asked, feeling the pulsating sensation between her legs.

  “No,” she sighed. “This is different.”

  “What does it feel like?” he asked before leaning in to kiss her eyelids.

  She exhaled slowly. “A little bit like the feeling of music pounding against your chest in a nightclub.” She pressed his fingers against her pussy. “Except it’s against my clit, and it feels fucking incredible.”

  “Enjoy,” he whispered.

  Her eyelids opened slowly, and she looked deep into his eyes. “Promise me, Brett, that even when I move in, you’ll still fuck me like that.”

  “Oh, kitten,” he murmured. “I’ll fuck you whenever you want, in as many fantastic ways I can think of.”

  “Good,” she purred. “Because this should never, ever end.”

  Chapter 12

  The weeks leading up to Austin’s move to New York were jam-packed with activity. Between getting colleagues ready for her sabbatical, packing, daily chats with Brett, and a farewell party, Austin was pressed to complete any writing on her latest manuscript.

  She was looking forward to sitting down with her computer when her move Stateside was complete. On the first Monday that she was officially a resident of the apartment on Fourteenth Street, she woke before the 6:00 a.m. alarm. She was snuggled into Brett’s body, his long limbs spooning her in a warm embrace. The alarm sounded, and he reached over to silence the buzzer.

  Brett kissed her hair. “Morning, kitten. Sleep well?”

  She nodded. “I did.”

  He shifted his body, running his hand up her arm to pull her hair back. She could feel his hard shaft against her bottom.

  “Morning hard-ons are the same as any other, aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” he murmured as he kissed her shoulder.

  “It would be a shame to waste a perfectly good erection,” she whispered before running her hand up his thigh.

  “I have one every morning, kitten.”

  “Good. I can’t think of a better way to start the day,” she added, draping one knee over the top of his limbs as she spread her legs for him.

  “Oh fuck, Austin. Are you serious?” he asked, slipping his hand between her legs, eager to indulge her.

  “Absolutely. I want you to make love to me.” She inhaled deeply as his fingers gently prodded and pressed inside her. “Make love to me in the morning and fuck me at night,” she murmured.

  “Christ, kitten.” He pressed his hard cock between her legs, coating it in her warm wet juices. “How did your pussy get so fucking wet so quickly?”

  “I’ve been awake for fifteen minutes, thinking about having you inside me,” she whispered before she reached down to press the head of his hard cock inside her.

  He gently pressed his shaft into her. “Next time,” he moaned as her wet pussy enveloped him, “wake me up.”

  “Careful what you wish for,” she whispered as she placed his hand on her clit. He began softly swirly his fingers against her, matching the long slow thrusts he delivered with his cock. She whimpered as he gently pressed his middle finger against her swollen bits.

  He continued to press his cock and his fingers, quickly bringing her to the edge. He was struggling to contain himself. “I need you to come,” he moaned as he cautiously pressed his cock deeper. He suddenly felt her climax against his cock. It was more than he could handle, his muscles twitching as he filled her with cum.

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, slipping from her.

  She rolled onto her back to look at him in surprise. “What are you sorry about?”

  “I wasn’t prepared for…I should have lasted longer.”

  She tapped her finger on his thigh. “Did you come?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did I?”

  “Yes.”

  She stared at him. “Well then, you’re batting a 1,000, aren’t you? Now.” She paused to kiss him. “Go shower, get dressed, put a smile on your face, and go knock it out of the park today.”

  A grin crossed his face as he slipped out of the bed and walked to the shower. “I love morning sex,” he called out as he stepped into the shower. “And I love you, Austin Campbell.” When he left for the office, he promised he’d be home by six o’clock. Austin set right to work on her manuscript. She spent five straight hours working on a chapter before pausing to make a sandwich. Throughout the day, the segment came to life as she typed on her laptop, first on the sofa, then at a desk, and finally, curled up under the covers of their king-size bed. Her alarm sounded at five o’clock, and she wrapped up her thoughts before putting away her laptop and notepad for the day. She showered, dressed, and began preparing dinner. As a regular guest at a number of neighborhood restaurants, Brett had originally resisted the idea of eating at home, but he’d been converted after sampling a number of Austin’s meals.

  The next morning, the process was set to repeat itself until the buzzer sounded at nine o’clock, indicating that the elevator would be stopping at the fourth floor. Austin sat on the sofa, surprised that Brett would be home in the middle of the day. A moment later, a middle-aged woman stepped into the apartment. She was dressed in a black-and-white uniform. Austin stood up. “Can I help you?” she asked nervously.

  “Oh, hello. Don’t mind me,” she added in a thick accent. “I’m here to do the cleaning.”

  “Cleaning?” The topic of a housekeeper had never come up.

  “Yes, dear.” The short, plump lady paused. “I’m Maria. And you?”

  “I…I’m Austin. I live here now.”

  “Pleased to meet you. I’ll stay out of your way,” she assured her as she made her way to the back of the apartment to begin her chores.

  Austin picked up her phone and started typing a message.

  We have a housekeeper?

  We do. She comes on Tuesday at 9:00 a.m.

  No shit, Einstein. What time is it?

  The response was instant. Maria’s already there, isn’t she?

  Ding, ding, ding. Yes, Brett Tanner, that is the correct answer.

  Sorry. I completely forgot. She’s like a magical fairy that shows up, cleans, does the laundry, and then disappears without us seeing her.

  Okay. I’ll keep writing, and try to stay out of her way.

  Love you, kitten. See you tonight.

  Later that day, Austin registered for two courses at NYU, and registered for a series of yoga and Pilates classes at a local fitness facility. Most days she wrote at home, with the exception of Tuesdays when Maria came to the apartment to clean and do laundry. Occasionally, when she craved inspiration, she would venture out to a café, a park, or to the New York Public Library. Brett’s roommate, Gregory, was rarely in New York, having been home only briefly since she moved in. Day after day, the routine repeated itself. Within four weeks of moving to New York, Austin had completed another manuscript. She combed through the document, giving it one final edit.

  * * * *

  When Brett arrived home that evening, the 165-page manuscript was sit
ting on the limestone countertop, strategically placed beside an expensive bottle of prosecco.

  “What’s this,” he asked, pulling off his suit jacket and loosening his tie.

  “My latest work.”

  Brett looked up at her, his eyes wide. “You’ve finished it, already?”

  She nodded, a wide grin on her face. “I did, and I’m really pleased with how it turned out.”

  He scanned the first page as he removed the foil off the top of the wine bottle. He was already turning the page when the cork popped and the effervescent bubbles danced in celebration. His eyes were glued to the page. “This is good, Austin. Really good.”

  He pulled out his eyeglasses, put them on his face, and continued reading. She melted at the sight. She watched his eyes dance across the page, taking in the words that she had spent weeks pouring onto each sheet. She reached for the bottle of wine and poured a little into each glass. He turned another page.

  “I thought we could go out for dinner tonight,” she suggested as she leaned against the counter.

  He glanced up over the rim of his glasses and shook his head. “Not a chance,” he muttered quietly. “Order in. I’m reading this tonight,” he added as he pointed to the manuscript. He stepped around the counter and took her in his arms. “And if it’s anything like your other novels, I’ll be alternating between fucking you and making love to you for the rest of the night.”

  “You like it?” she asked hesitantly.

  “I’m only on page three, and I don’t want to put it down. It’s fantastic.” He picked up the two glasses of wine and handed one to her. “Cheers, kitten. I’m so proud of you.”

  She took a long sip, staring deep into his eyes. “I’ll order in. Get reading.”

  He gave her a long, sweet kiss. She savored the lingering flavor of the wine on his lips before reluctantly letting him go. He picked up the manuscript and made his way to the bedroom. Thirty minutes later, dinner arrived. She poured them each another glass of prosecco, and plated their meals. She found him naked, partially covered in sheets when she set the room service tray on the bench at the foot of the bed.

  “Fuck, Austin, this is really good. It’s your best work yet.”

  “How far are you?” she asked, handing him a plate.

  “I’ve just started chapter three.” He pulled back the covers for her.

  “You’re hard,” she observed.

  “Fuck, yes. You didn’t take long to get the main characters into bed.”

  She laughed lightly. “It took them longer to get into bed than it took us.” She shed her clothes and crawled under the sheets beside him. She handed him his glass of wine. He took a sip and leaned in, brushing his lips against her breast. He pulled a nipple into his mouth, letting the bubbles dance against her hot pink flesh. He gave a gentle tug and then released.

  She swallowed hard. “You’re going to keep reading, aren’t you?”

  He kissed her lips. “Give me a few more minutes, and then I’ll make love to you.”

  “You’ll want to finish chapter four,” she suggested, taking another sip of wine and reaching for her dinner plate. She nibbled at her salad and then the chicken parmigiana, watching him devour the words on the page. As he turned to page forty, she knew he was approaching a graphic sex scene. She cleared their plates and placed them on the tray before taking another sip of wine. She tugged back the sheets and crept between his legs, gently kissing her way up his thigh. When she had reached his package, she softly kissed one ball and then the other. She swirled her tongue around each before kissing them again.

  “Fuck, that feels good,” he whispered as he turned the page.

  She slowly ran her tongue up his hard shaft, flicking her tongue against his head before licking back down.

  “You know what I’m reading, don’t you?” he moaned.

  “Uh huh,” she confirmed before kissing her way back up his long, hard cock.

  He glanced down at her as she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth. “Change of plans,” he murmured. “Is it okay if I come in your mouth?”

  She twirled her tongue around his head before responding. “The answer to that question will always be yes,” she whispered, looking up at him. “Always,” she added before sliding her lips over his head, taking his shaft into her mouth.

  Brett watched her for another moment before turning back to the manuscript, eager to finish the scene he had started. As he read about the main characters that were fucking each other in an ATM vestibule, Austin rhythmically plunged his cock deep into her mouth. As he finished the scene, he dropped the manuscript to the sheets, inhaled sharply, and let out a growly moan as he released a load of cum into her mouth.

  “Fuck,” he exclaimed, brushing the hair back from her face to watch her lick him as he softened.

  “Do you like it?” she asked, reaching for her wineglass.

  “This?” he responded as he motioned between his legs. “Or the chapter?”

  “I know you like this.” She laughed, leaning back down to kiss his ample package. “I meant the chapter.”

  “Well, obviously I loved it.” He laughed, pulling her into his arms. “Although I think I’m going to start using the hand sanitizer beside the bank machine from now on,” he added. “It never occurred to me that someone might have fucked in there.”

  “Keep reading,” she urged. “It gets better.”

  He kissed her, letting his tongue slowly and softly probe her mouth before sitting back to continue reading. “How long until I’m hard again?” he asked, turning the page to begin chapter five.

  “Not long,” she promised. “You’ll want to fuck me by the end of chapter six.”

  He read another paragraph before looking up at her. “You paint an incredible word picture, Austin. Just reading this, makes me want a glass of scotch.”

  She smiled, knowing the segment he was referring to. “I’ll go pour you one.” She disappeared for a moment, returning with a glass of single malt. She handed it to him, watching him take a sip before turning his attention back to the manuscript. She was fascinated as she watched his expressions change in response to what he was reading. She knew that he was starting into another sex scene when he instinctively licked his lips and his eyes widened.

  “If this is what you’re writing all day, it’s no wonder you’re so horny when I get home every day.”

  She was right. As he neared the end of chapter six, his cock had hardened. He set the manuscript aside long enough to lead her to the bathroom to fuck her on the vanity.

  * * * *

  The next day, she submitted the manuscript to her publisher. It was enthusiastically received. They set a launch date for December 1. Austin took a weeklong break from writing to focus on the social media marketing of her existing novels, and write a social media communication plan for the release of her latest work. She was about to put the finishing touches on the plan, when a message popped up in her e-mail inbox. She opened the e-mail from her publicist and read the brief message indicating that, to promote Austin’s newest release, a number of book readings and book signings had been scheduled in the tri-state area. Austin opened the attachment and began to scroll through the schedule. Her eyes widened as she studied the lengthy timetable. She printed off the list of dates and locations and began cross-referencing them against her calendar. She sent Brett a text.

  Having a good day?

  As good as it gets. What’s up?

  My publicist wants me to attend some promotional events over the next few months.

  That’s great!

  It’s a hectic schedule. There are four to five book readings or signings each week for the next few months.

  How long will you be away?

  It looks like they’re all day trips. The five boroughs mostly, but there are events scheduled for venues as far away as Boston and Philadelphia. I should be home every night.

  Sounds like you’re going to get to know the New York subway system.

  You�
��re okay with this?

  Of course. You’ve been cooped up in that apartment for a month. Get out and see the city. Meet your fans. You’ll be amazing at this.

  Love you. We can talk about the details tonight. Are we eating in, or out?

  I’ll bring dinner home with me. Gotta run. See you later.

  By the end of the next week, Austin still wasn’t sure what her next novel should be about. She was sitting together with Brett on the sofa as they watched television. Austin jotted down a number of ideas for a novel. She weighed the pros and cons for each, finally scribbling out the entire list and throwing the notepad across the room.

  “What’s the matter?” Brett asked, turning to look at her.

  “I’d like to start writing again, and I don’t have a story idea that I like.” She looked at him. “I was afraid this would happen if I started writing full time.”

  He kissed her before taking her hand. “What about a Valentine’s theme? You could write something in a few weeks and have it ready for release in time for February.”

  “I thought about that.” She sighed. “But I hate Valentine’s Day, and I don’t think I could fake the enthusiasm to do the story properly.”

  “What about something foreign? You speak French. You should write a love affair in Paris.”

  She thought about his suggestion. “That’s not a bad idea,” she responded, thinking through the storyline possibilities. She looked at him. “The only challenge is that it’s been so many years since I’ve been in Paris. To do the city justice, I’d want to do some field research.”

  “So, book a flight to Paris.”

  She sighed heavily and then crinkled up her nose. “Paris in November? I’m not sure. Plus, I’m so busy with the publicity tour of my book. I’d rather go in the spring, and capture that season.” She kissed him. “But I really like that idea. Can I put it on the back burner?”

  “It would be a great story,” he confirmed. “You know,” he added slowly, “I’ve said it before. I’ll suggest it again.” He gave her a long slow kiss. “I think you should write our story.”