Loving Edits

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “So speaks the man from Atlantis,” Paul teased. “English is a bitch; I agree. Say whatever you need to say in Spanish.”

  “Te quiero.”

  “You love me?” Paul’s stunned look said it all.

  Tono embraced him and buried his face in Paul’s neck. “Sí… te quiero, Pol Alcott.”

  Chapter 29

  PAUL shut his eyes and let Tono take charge after that. He was finally getting what he’d been yearning for―the Spaniard’s loving side. Everything changed in those few moments when they admitted their feelings. The antagonism was replaced with soulful kisses leaving him breathless and wanting. Tono’s guttural words, in a language that sounded like a mishmash of Gaelic and Chinese, made everything more surreal and dreamlike. Paul sighed with pleasure as they rocked against each other slowly. The frantic pace of their earlier sessions was nothing compared to this studied tenderness.

  Tono pulled his mouth away from Paul’s for one second, lifted off his shirt, and began to undo Paul’s pants. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, moving a little more quickly as the urgency began to build.

  “Shit!” Paul cursed.

  “No importa,” Tono muttered as thoughts of penetration were put aside for now. He tore off his own clothes, and soon they were naked and hard, grinding against each other insistently. Paul tilted his hips and began rolling and twisting, trying to get closer to Tono’s cock, which was straining against his stomach. He went a little crazy when Tono reached down and wrapped his large hand around their organs, sliding it up and down in a steady rhythm, aided by the pre-come that leaked to combine their fluids in a slippery mess. He let go for one second and cupped Paul’s scrotum, kneading the hard sac that seemed ready to explode. Tono caressed the tender skin beneath and slipped a finger into the puckered opening, which quivered with his touch. He was rewarded with a low moan as Paul spread his legs.

  “Oh God,” Paul’s voice encouraged Tono to press in further. “Yes, Tono, please don’t stop!”

  Tono’s restraint broke when he heard Paul begging, and he kissed him forcefully, seeking out Paul’s tongue. It twined around his as they fought for dominance, never breaking away, even when Tono’s expert hand grabbed both their cocks again and began to tug. Paul started to pump into Tono’s tight fist, helping him along while panting and issuing commands to go faster and harder and tighter. Finally, it all culminated in an explosion of wet heat that flowed in a steady stream over Tono’s fingers. Paul’s come sounds were muffled by Tono’s mouth when he continued kissing him possessively.

  “God,” Paul gasped, after Tono finally broke the kiss. He curled around Tono and tried to get even closer, loving the feel of the massive body blanketing him.

  “Thank you,” he whispered against Tono’s neck.

  Tono relaxed into Paul’s embrace.

  They must have dozed for a few minutes, but they were startled awake when Paul remembered. “We have to call Mick; he’s probably frantic.”

  “Call him,” Tono agreed. He reached for his cell phone, which was lying on the floor in the crumpled heap, and handed it to Paul.

  Mick picked up on the second ring. “Tono?” he exclaimed.

  “No, babe. It’s me.”

  “You must have found him since you’re using his phone.”

  “Um, yeah, found him.” Paul’s gravelly voice painted the only picture Mick needed.

  “Yeah?” Mick sounded like he was smiling, obviously delighted by Paul’s response. “Where are you?”

  “In bed, with a gorgeous Spaniard wrapped around me.”

  “Thank God,” Mick sighed. “Tell him I love him.”

  “Tell him yourself,” Paul said, handing the phone to Tono.

  “Cariño,” Tono purred.

  Paul watched Tono’s face relax as he listened to Mick reassure him. The tension appeared to drop off Tono’s shoulders while Mick talked. Paul had no idea what was being said, but whatever it was made Tono smile. He reached up and caressed Tono’s cheek and almost shot again when Tono held his hand, turned it over, and began to suck on his wrist. Paul groaned and shut his eyes, only opening them when he felt the phone pressed up to his ear.

  “Paul?”

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “Tell me what he’s doing now.”

  “Jesus, Mick… you’re not joining in.”

  Mick chuckled. “Yes, I am. I’m already halfway there imagining the two of you.”

  “You’re a depraved voyeur.”

  “And proud of it.” Mick’s voice was thick with desire. “Come on, sweetheart, I want to hear you scream. Tell him to suck on your balls.”

  “Christ, babe,” Paul groaned and pushed on Tono’s shoulders. “Tono, move down, yeah, oh God, right there, big guy.”

  “Is he teasing your hole with his tongue? Make him fuck your slit before he takes you down his throat. Pant for me, sweetheart, I want to hear you.”

  “Ah… fuck,” Paul cried out and practically levitated as Mick’s sultry voice added to the excitement. Tono’s busy mouth was doing untold damage to Paul’s nether regions, and his head all but shattered when Tono shifted his attention to his resurrected cock, which was already straining and rosy pink. “Jesus, please,” Paul begged, “suck it.”

  Tono not only took it deep down his throat, he inserted his saliva-slick fingers into Paul’s tight ass at the same time, moving them around until he found the small treasure that finally brought the scream he’d been hoping for. The one that set off Mick as well, and both men came in a duet of sweet come sounds acting like a trigger for Tono, who got off, and the smell of spunk filled the small hotel room.

  Mick was sitting in his living room with the phone held tightly in one hand and his cock in the other. The relief upon hearing Paul’s voice was enormous. He didn’t realize how frightened he was by the prospect of losing Tono until he heard the warm voice calling him cariño. His next reaction was almost primal, and the idea of having sex with both his men set off the chain reaction that ended up with an impressive orgasm leaving him boneless and damp.

  “Paul… sweetheart, let me talk to him.”

  “Absolutely,” Paul gasped, still winding down from the incredible high. He passed the phone to Tono with a shaky hand.

  “Majo?”

  “¿Sí?”

  “I love you.”

  “¿Y el rubio?”

  “También. I love you both, Tono. Can you understand it?”

  “I… think so,” Tono faltered.

  “You love him, don’t you?”

  Tono hesitated. “Not the way I love you.”

  “I do understand,” Mick said softly. “Come home to me, majo. I want you both in my arms.”

  “Ahora mismo.” He disconnected and tossed the phone aside. He tugged at Paul and waited for the man to settle himself against his chest. “We have to go, Pol. Mick needs us.”

  “All right.”

  Tono looked down at Paul’s uplifted face and kissed him gently. “Let’s go, but first, tell me how we’re going to survive this?” Tono’s question was almost a plea for help, now that the immediacy of the situation had passed and reality was settling in again.

  “We’ll have to be careful, but we’ll make it work. The most important part is that you’re comfortable with the whole idea. Are you?”

  Tono nodded, “I’m getting there.”

  Paul’s relief was palpable. “We mean a lot to each other, Tono, just as you and I love him with all our hearts. It’s symbiotic.”

  “I can’t have the whole world finding out I’m in love with two men.”

  “Are you?” Paul asked, wanting to hear the words again.

  Tono caressed Paul’s face. “You know I am.”

  “I do count?” Paul smiled, reminding Tono of his constant refrain.

  Tono’s cheeks flamed, but he nodded.

  “Say it in Spanish.”

  “Te quiero.”

  “It sounds so sexy.”

  “I could say pass the salt in Spanis
h and you would find it sexy,” Tono teased, sucking on Paul’s lower lip. He bit it gently, and Paul was hard again.

  “Let me make love to you,” Paul whispered, making his way down Tono’s body. “I had a vision of you with no hair,” he said, stopping at Tono’s nipples to play with each one, twirling them around with his tongue until they came to hard peaks. “Now, your furry chest is very appealing.” Paul grinned and rubbed his face against the soft hair that had bothered him so much. It was so shallow and inconsequential; Tono could have been a woolly mammoth, and he would still love every part of him. Tono’s large hands clutched his head like a vice as he opened his mouth and took the Spaniard down his throat. He felt the strong fingers squeezing while the smooth organ slid in deeper just as Tono began to thrust. “You, okay?” Tono stuttered, ever mindful of Paul’s comfort.

  Paul nodded and sucked even harder, sending Tono off on his erotic journey. He put all his experience behind this blowjob, determined to give Tono as much pleasure as he’d received in the last hour, and he was rewarded when he heard the man growl, seconds before he came, shooting hot jets of spunk down Paul’s throat. Paul swallowed every bit of him and loved it.

  Tono pulled him up his body and kissed him deeply, sweeping his tongue around Paul’s mouth, surely tasting himself.

  “I love you, Tono.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. I’ve never been this satisfied, and we haven’t even fucked.” Paul laughed. “Now I know why Mick is so nuts about you.”

  “It works three ways. Didn’t you just tell me that?”

  “Did I? I don’t remember.”

  “Were you just talking to hear yourself, or buying time so I wouldn’t leave the room?”

  Paul leaned into Tono. “I was so fucking scared you were leaving, I would have said anything to keep you here.”

  “Can you stop calling me a bastard?” Tono frowned, remembering past arguments.

  “Ahh, fuck. I’m sorry, handsome. I always say the wrong things, don’t I?”

  “You need to edit your mouth sometimes.”

  Paul laughed. “Clearly, I do.”

  “Can I ask you a question before we go?”

  “It depends on the question.”

  “Why’d you leave him? I know you love him very much, so why, Pol?”

  Paul pushed away and debated on whether or not to tell the truth. He could lie and preserve some of his dignity, and his public persona, but Tono had opened his heart with such generosity of spirit that Paul didn’t see how he could live with himself if he didn’t tell the truth. He owed Tono that much, and Mick as well.

  “I’m going to tell you, but I don’t want you to say anything to Mick because I want to tell him myself.”

  “Okay.”

  “My father was a perfectionist, Tono. He was a difficult man who only acknowledged my presence when I excelled.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tono said kindly.

  Paul shrugged. “Hey, that’s the hand I was dealt. I think there was a tiny part of him that resented me for killing my mother.”

  “What?”

  Paul waved away his concerns. “She died in childbirth.”

  “You had nothing to do with that. It was her fate.”

  “A very Buddhist thing to say, but my father was a Presbyterian. We digress. The only time my father knew I was around was when I did something really good in school, or as I got older, at work.”

  “Go on,” Tono said, encouraging Paul, who seemed reluctant to proceed. “Spit it out.”

  “When Mick finished his novel, I presented it to my father, and after reading it, he said that Mick couldn’t have possibly written it. It was too good, and he thought I’d written the story and put Mick’s name on the manuscript.”

  “¡Jodido! Didn’t he like Mick?”

  “As well as he could like anyone who was my lover. He wasn’t too keen on the whole gay thing.”

  “Huh.”

  “Yeah, so I gave him my own manuscript. A story I’d been working on for years. I gave it to him to prove that Mick and I had completely different writing styles, hoping it would stop him from accusing Mick of plagiarism, and maybe get him interested in publishing my work. He sent my manuscript back by messenger, with a note. He didn’t even have the decency to bring it to me in person.”

  “What did the note say?”

  Paul’s eyes flooded suddenly. “The note said, ‘You were wise to keep this to yourself. Stick to editing.’”

  “I’m sorry, Pol,” Tono said, wiping the tear that rolled down Paul’s cheek.

  Paul shook his head and held Tono’s hand. “I was devastated and took it out on Mick. The envy consumed me. The truth is I hated his ability to evoke emotion, to write a story that made people laugh, and cry, and turn the page with enthusiasm; this lack of talent diminished me in my father’s mind. When Mick’s book made the bestseller list, I lost it. I’m not perfect, Tono, far from it, but I’m used to being number one, and suddenly I wasn’t. In a fit of spite, I pushed away the love of my life because I wasn’t as good as he was.”

  Tono reached for Paul, who melted into him. They held each other for several minutes, and Paul felt relieved. Telling Tono was a huge step forward, cathartic in many ways, and the healing would be complete when he confessed everything in Mick’s presence.

  “Pol, what you did was understandable, given the circumstances. Mick will forgive you in a minute. I know I have.”

  “I hope you’re right. I would hate to lose him now after all we’ve been through. I’d hate to lose either one of you.”

  “You won’t. I can guarantee it.”

  “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “I am.”

  “Amen to that. Shall we go, handsome?”

  “Yes. First, we need to figure out where my suitcase has gone.”

  “It’s probably on its way to Spain by now.”

  “Sí… que coño.”

  Paul laughed. “We’ll get it back tomorrow. Don’t stress.”

  “I won’t. Pol?”

  “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For coming after me and setting me straight.”

  Paul’s answer was in the form of a kiss. “You’ve let me into your relationship, which is beyond special. I can’t imagine what it has cost you, but I will always be grateful for your generosity.”

  “I love you, Pol, almost as much as I love Mick. I have no idea how this happened, and it still scares me; but I know that I’d rather be terrified than alone.”

  “Mick and I are crazy about you, Tono. That’s all you need to dwell on right now; the rest we’ll work out.”

  “Okay.” Tono’s smile lit up his face, and Paul couldn’t help but respond.

  “God, you’re fucking beautiful.”

  “And you, Pol Alcott, are very sexy,” Tono purred. “Kiss me first, and then we’ll go.”

  Paul parted his lips without hesitation.

  Chapter 30

  Spain, three years later

  THE private plane touched down at Donostia-San Sebastian Airport. No one paid particular attention to the two passengers who disembarked. It was the week of the San Sebastian Film Festival, after all, and celebrities from all over the world would be plying the beaches and the quaint streets of old town while attending the awards ceremony that happened every year in September. It was the Spanish version of the Cannes Film Festival, and it was just as well attended.

  Paul walked briskly with Baxter trailing behind him. He was eager to get to the front of the building, knowing that Tono and Mick would be waiting to pick him up. Paul had been commuting from New York to San Sebastian all summer, but this visit would be for an entire month, since he no longer had anything pressing back at work. He was more than ready for a well-deserved vacation and some quiet time with his two partners.

  “Hey, handsome.” Paul smiled as soon as he saw Tono leaning against the black Mercedes. H
e was wearing a white, soft-collared T-shirt with a green crocodile above the left pocket. His favorite khaki shorts and brown espadrilles completed the picture of a man enjoying the warm summer day. Paul wanted to hurl himself at his gorgeous Spaniard but showed the usual restraint necessary in public.

  Tono pushed his sunglasses above his forehead and grinned. “Hola, rubio.” The look of pure joy that lit up his face left no doubt he was glad to see him. He reached for Paul’s briefcase and opened the passenger door, letting Paul in before he jogged over to his side. As soon as the doors closed and the security windows shielded them from sight, they were in each other’s arms. “God, I’ve missed you,” Paul exclaimed, circling Tono’s neck and pulling him close.

  Tono’s reply was muffled by the blistering kiss. Finally, they broke away and he breathed. “I’ve missed you too.”

  “Where’s Mick?”

  “Preparing lunch,” Tono remarked. “He’s been talking about your return nonstop.”

  “Why?”

  “The press has been hounding him for interviews, and he wants you around for most of them. He’s very excited about the award.”

  “He should be. It’s a big accomplishment and well-deserved.”

  “For both of you,” Tono reminded him. “You did co-write the screenplay.”

  “Blah! I did it for fun because I’ve never done it before. Besides, you know that a screenplay is only as good as the original novel. Mick wrote an amazing sequel. I knew it would be a hit.”

  “It’s too bad your father didn’t live to see this day―watching you receive an award for writing, rather than editing.”

  Paul reached for Tono’s hand, which rested loosely on the gearshift, and squeezed it. “I’m sure that if there’s any kind of justice, he’ll know I’m not such a hack.”

  “Por Dios, Pol. You were never a hack. He didn’t give you a chance.”

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore.” Paul kissed him quickly. “Get the door, love, Baxter’s here.”

  Tono popped open the trunk as soon as he saw Baxter approaching with the luggage. Once the bags were stowed, and everyone strapped in and settled, they headed home.