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Chapter One

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Copyright © WENDI ZWADUK 2012

All Rights Re se rve d, Total-E-Ntwine d Limite d, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.

Free Story: FROM PICASSO WITH LOVE

Chapter One

Berto sipped his glass of wine and stared out at the city below. His

heart ached. Sure, he had his long time partner, Remi by his side, but

damn it hurt to lose a pet. True, it had been three months since the dog

had passed. Even so, the hurt was still fresh. Picasso had more attitude

in his miniature bull terrier body than dogs twice his size. Tears misted

in his eyes. The dog was like their third musketeer, going with him and

Remi everywhere. Berto didn’t want to forget the dog, but he’d happily

welcome a moment of peace.

“There’s my guy.” Remi’s voice soothed the frayed parts of Berto’s

soul. “I made you paella.”

Berto closed his eyes. “Thanks. I’m not hungry.”

Remi wrapped his arms around Berto’s waist and rested his chin on

Berto’s shoulder. “He’d want us to eat.”

Berto chuckled. “He did like it when we spilled food.”

“And he’d want me to fatten you back up.” Remi nibbled on Berto’s

neck. His words rumbled on Berto’s skin. “Besides, I have a surprise for

you.”

“A surprise?” Okay, Remi had piqued Berto’s interest. “What kind?

You made paella, so you’ve got to be buttering me up.”

“Close your eyes.” Remi smiled the sweet smile he used when he

wanted something from Berto. “Please?”

“Fine.” Berto closed his eyes and gripped the stem of the wine

glass a little tighter. Remi grasped Berto’s shoulder.

“I’m leading you. Don’t freak out.” Remi pulled Berto along. Berto

shuffled his feet to acclimatise himself to his surroundings. Over the

sliding door frame, onto the tiles in the breakfast space. Remi came to a

stop. “Open.”

“Food?” Berto didn’t open his eyes. “I’m not hungry.”

“Works for me.” Remi took the wine glass from Berto’s hand.

“Keep ‘em shut then.”

Something behind Berto clicked. He strained to hear what the click

was. Remi grabbed his hand.

“You are under arrest.” Remi slapped something chilly over

Berto’s wrists.

“For what?” Berto opened his eyes. “What’d I do?”

“Not letting me show you your present,” Remi said from behind

Berto. He smoothed both hands over Berto’s ass and squeezed. “Look on

the table, Grumpy Gus.”

Berto stared at the box wrapped in shiny silver paper. His interest

rose, along with his cock. He loved it when Remi grabbed his butt. Berto

groaned. “What’s in the package?”

“Which one?” Remi stood and strolled around Berto. “From my

perspective, there are a lot of nice packages here.” He cupped Berto’s

balls through the fabric of his khakis. “You know I’ve missed having us

time.”

“Me, too.” Berto arched into Remi’s touch. “Baby.”

Remi stepped directly in front of Berto, nose to nose. “I’m going to

take your mind off your troubles.”

Berto loved staring at Remi. The man had such deep brown eyes.

Berto lost himself in the chocolate depths almost daily. His heart ached.

It had been quite a while since they’d let loose and fucked the afternoon

away. He bucked forward, rubbing his cock on the bulge in Remi’s

pants. Remi grunted and his eyelids drooped a bit. Berto suppressed a

grin. He might have the handcuffs on, but Remi didn’t have all the

control.

Remi bumped noses with Berto, then bit Berto’s bottom lip. Berto

couldn’t hold in the moan. He opened his mouth, granting Remi access.

Remi worked the buttons on Berto’s shirt as he swirled his tongue past

Berto’s lips. He sucked Berto’s tongue and pushed the dress shirt off

Berto’s shoulders. The cotton garment bunched at Berto’s wrists.

Remi raked his nails down Berto’s chest and broke the kiss. “You

taste like merlot.” He hooked his finger into the neck of Berto’s

undershirt. “Wonder what it tastes like on your nipples. Wanna find

out?”

“Love to.” Berto sucked in a ragged breath. “Please?”

“Anything for my man.” Remi strolled from the room and

disappeared into the kitchen. He returned a moment later with a pair of

scissors and the partial bottle of wine. “You were thirsty.”

“Prepping for you?”

“Good answer.” Remi tore the cork from the bottle with his teeth.

“You shouldn’t do that. It’s bad for your oral health.”

“Meh.” Remi shrugged and spit out the cork. “I’ll live.” He placed

the bottle on the table, then brandished the scissors. “Now about that

shirt. It is in the way.” He yanked the hem from Berto’s pants and found

centre. Remi snipped the hem of the shirt then tossed the shears onto the

carpeted floor. “Won’t need those now.” He kicked them out of the way

and grabbed the torn edges.

The shriek of tearing fabric echoed in the quiet room. Cool air

whipped around Berto’s body as the destroyed shirt gave way.

A smile quirked on Remi’s lips. His dimple deepened. “Now that,”

he shoved the ragged sides of the shirt back to Berto’s bound wrists, “Is

fucking sexy.”

Berto watched Remi’s every move. He wasn’t going to miss

whatever his partner had planned—not for the world. He groaned as

Remi grabbed the bottle once more and sniffed the opening. Berto’s cock

throbbed behind his pants. He’d never imagined watching Remi

appreciate wine would turn him on, but heaven help him it did.

“Drink?” Remi took one of the wine glasses from the table and

poured a generous amount. He swirled the alcohol around in the glass,

then sniffed. “This was a good year.”

“What year does the wine say? Looks like a store brand.” This part

he loved, antagonising Remi. If anyone knew wine, the person was Remi.

He loved getting the gentle ribbing from Berto.

Remi frowned in his special dramatic style. “Store bought?” He

took a long draw from the glass, then smacked his lips. “It’s not store

bought. I went to the vineyard.” He drank another gulp. “In fact, this was

a very good vintage.” He licked his lips and grinned. “Yesterday was a

great year.”

“You’re such a dork. I know you don’t buy brand new wine.”

Berto’s mouth watered and not just for the wine. “Gonna share?”

Remi sipped some more, then placed the glass back on the table. He

leaned in close and kissed Berto hard. Traces of the wine lingered on

Remi’s tongue and burst on Berto’s palette. Berto groaned. He loved a

rich merlot and it tasted even better delivered by Remi.

“Like?”

“Love.” Berto inched forward, needing more of Remi. Hell, he

needed all of his lover. Remi winked, then nudged Berto backwards.

“Where are you pushing me?” Berto asked.

“To the chair.” Remi placed his hands on Berto’s shoulders and

gave him another gentle nudge. “Sit.”

Berto complied and his legs fell open. He stared up at Remi. “What

are you thinking?”

“This would taste better if I licked it off of you.” Remi dumped the

last swallow of wine down Berto’s chest.

The wine slid down Berto’s skin in icy rivulets, cooling some of

his fever for Remi. Berto gripped the spindles on the back of the chair.

“You’re going to ruin my pants and the carpet, you know.”

Okay, he really had no idea where that thought had come from and

yet it still popped out.

“A, you’re on the hardwood, and b, pants will wash.” Remi knelt

between Berto’s thighs and nibbled the spilt wine. “Tastes better with a

dash of danger, doesn’t it?”

“I can’t taste it.”

Remi bit down hard on Berto’s nipple, sending a rush of pleasure

pain through his body. Berto groaned and wrapped his feet around the

legs of the chair. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Every

nerve ending tingled and his cock damned near tore through his trousers.

“Oh fuck,” Berto moaned.

“That’s what I like.” Remi rose to his knees between Berto’s legs

and kissed him again. “More?”

Berto nodded, unable to make rational words. He swallowed past

the lump in his throat.

Remi raked his nails down Berto’s chest, then nuzzled the bulge in

Berto’s pants. Berto whimpered. So close. He hadn’t been so close to

blowing his wad in forever. His legs trembled and heat flowed fast and

furious through his veins.

“Hmm,” Remi hummed and worked the button on Berto’s fly.

Berto’s cock sprang free from his boxers and pants. “Hello, beautiful.”

Remi rubbed his nose along the thick vein on the underside of Berto’s

dick.

Berto’s eyes crossed as pleasure surged in his body. Holy shit. And

Remi hadn’t even sucked him off yet. Berto fisted his cuffed hands.

“God.”

Remi sat back on his heels and chuckled. Berto stared at his

laughing lover. “Finish. Please?”

“I will.” Remi stood and shoved the rogue lock of dark hair from

his eyes. “In a bit.” He grabbed the hem of his shirt and dragged it up his

chest, revealing tanned skin, inch by tantalising inch.

Berto licked his lips. Remi’s body reminded him of a classical

nude statue. Perfection in human form.

When Remi revealed the tattoo of Berto’s name over his heart,

Remi brushed his fingers over the calligraphic letters and groaned.

“Always in my heart.”

Remi yanked the cotton T-shirt up over his head and tossed it

somewhere behind Berto. He tweaked his nipples and closed his eyes.

His moans and whimpers filled the room with sound. He slid his hands

down his torso to the waistband of his jeans, then opened the button and

zipper.

Squeezing the spindles on the back of the chair, Berto groaned. “Let

me taste you.” He’d burst if he didn’t get a quick sampling of Remi. One

person knew how to break down his walls and make him see he was

cared for—Remi.

Remi shoved his hair from his eyes once more, then shoved his

pants and briefs to the floor. He shifted his hips, making his cock bob.

Berto leant forward and kissed the blunt end of Remi’s dick. Remi

stopped moving and sighed. “That’s heaven.” He pushed his fingers into

Berto’s short hair and pumped his cock into Berto’s mouth. Berto licked

and sucked, loving the taste of Remi. Remi’s fingers clawed into Berto’s

skin.

“Stop.” Remi pulled out of Berto’s mouth. “I can’t take it and this

was supposed to be for you.” He sashayed over to the table and grabbed

a bottle of lube. “I want it fast and hard.” He knelt at Berto’s feet once

more, then squirted some of the clear liquid into his hand.

Berto groaned as Remi massaged the lube over his cock. “Fuck,” he

mumbled. “I won’t last either.”

“Good.” Remi tossed the bottle over his shoulder. “And I’ll worry

about that later.” Head tilted down, gaze fixed on Berto, Remi slunk

towards him, then sat astride his lap. “I’ll worry about you right now.”

Remi rubbed his cock along Berto’s. His eyelids drooped as he

fisted both dicks in his hand.

“Let me go so I can help.” Berto struggled against the cuffs. “I want

to touch you.”

Remi’s eyes flashed and he bumped noses with Berto. “Not yet.”

Remi nibbled and kissed his way down to Berto’s neck. “I’m having

fun.” He balanced himself on his toes long enough to wrap his fingers

around Berto’s cock and align it with his asshole. Sinking down on

Berto’s shaft, Remi gasped then bit hard.

“Oh holy hell that’s good.” Berto bounced his hips, burying himself

deeper in Remi’s ass.

“Fuck.” Remi lessened his vice-like grip on Berto’s neck. He

arched his back and rocked on Berto’s lap. He whimpered and his

staccato breath feathered on Berto’s skin.

“Touch yourself,” Berto commanded. “I want us to come together.”

Remi stopped moving for a moment, then grabbed the back of the

chair. He wrapped his free hand around his cock. His brows furrowed as

he writhed on Berto’s dick.

Berto groaned. He gave up pulling against the cuffs and scooted his

hips forward to gain better leverage. Remi’s balls slapped Berto’s

lower belly with every thrust. The pressure in his groin built. Berto’s

muscles went rigid and he cried out.

“Remi.” He emptied his seed deep in Remi’s ass. “Fucking hell.”

Remi clawed at Berto’s arm and curled towards Berto. Thick cum

splashed on Berto’s chest. Remi shivered and collapsed with his face

pressed into Berto’s neck.

“You do realise you’re going to kill me doing that, right?” Berto

slumped down in the seat and rolled his shoulders. Stiffness and a dull

ache stabbed between his shoulder blades. “But I’d die a happy man.”

“Really?” came Remi’s muffled reply. “Even covered in cum?”

“Even covered in cum.” Berto chuckled. It felt good to laugh and

laugh with the one he loved. “You sleepin’?”

“Nope.” Remi sat up straight and stretched, raising his arms high

above his head. “You wore me out, yes, but I merely wanted to soothe

some of your stress. I did a good job if I do say so.”

“You get me when no one else does.” Berto leant forward and

pushed his face into Remi’s chest. “Uncuff me so we can cuddle

properly. Please?”

“Fine.” Remi worked the cuffs and dropped the pesky bindings onto

the floor. “You’re free.” He stood, severing their connection. He leant

down and placed Berto back in his pants. “Want to get dressed, then eat?

Or eat au natural? I’m kinda liking the buff look.”

“You would.” Berto snorted. “I’m not hungry for food. I’m happy

and languid, but I’m dying to know what’s in that box.” He shrugged out

of his ruined shirt and rubbed his wrists. “Been driving me insane since

you mentioned it.”

Remi yanked his briefs up past his hips, then snatched his shirt from

the floor. “The box? You were giddy to see what’s in it? Huh. You

didn’t show it. I thought you forgot about it. Or maybe I thought I took

your mind off it with sex.” He grabbed the item in question, then plopped

back down onto Berto’s lap. “Okay. You asked sort of nicely. I’ll give

in. Go ahead and open it.”

“The sex was fantastic and it took my mind off everything for a

while.” Berto glanced at his lover through narrowed eyes. Based on the

twinkle in Remi’s eye, whatever was in the box had to be crazy good.

Berto pulled the free end of the ribbon until the sparkly length fluttered to

the floor. He tore into the silver paper.

Remi clapped his hands. “If you don’t love it, I’ll be really…sad.”

Berto tipped his head and nodded. “No pressure or anything.” He

lifted the lid. The box was too big for jewellery, but too small for

clothing. Couldn’t be a wedding set – they had those. He pushed the

tissue paper aside, revealing a picture frame. His heart squeezed. The

animal in the photograph resembled Picasso—well, kind of. The

markings were a little off, more brown than black.

“Who is this? Do we know this dog?” Berto lifted the frame from

the box. “Did you goof up the colour on the photo printer again?”

“That,”—Remi caressed the top edge of the frame—“Is Claude. Not

a goof up, not a total stranger. Claude.”

“Claude?” He should know the name, but damn if Claude didn’t

ring a mental bell. “I’ll bite. Who is this handsome pup?”

“The handsome pup in question is otherwise known as the youngest

son of Picasso. Our boy had some overachieving swimmers.”

“Wait, explain?” Berto put his hand in the air. “The long

explanation.” He loved the dog and to hear a tiny bit of Picasso lived

on? Now that was cool—once he got the whole caboodle. “I want to

hear all the details.”

“Remember how we had Dr Clark inseminate Gladiolas when we

found out Picasso didn’t have long? At the time I thought we were nuts,

but maybe it was all for good. She carried to term and Claude is one of

the pups. Betty called me when they were born six weeks ago. He’s the

spitting image of Picasso.” Remi’s voice broke and he shrank away from

Berto. “I know he’s not the actual Picasso, but the house is too quiet

without a dog and I couldn’t think of a better dog to get than one that’s

part of our beloved Picasso.” His eyes widened and his mouth curved

down into a frown. “You’re not mad, are you?”

Mad? Berto choked back tears and grabbed Remi’s hand. No, mad

wasn’t even part of the equation. He chuckled despite his sadness over

the loss of Picasso. Claude might not have been as dark as his father, but

he still looked as proud.

“So when do we get to pick up this young squire?” Berto wiped the

wetness from his cheeks. “And do we need to get new supplies? Puppies

need to be trained, don’t they?”

“Tomorrow and that’s the beauty of it. He’s potty trained.” Remi

threaded his fingers together behind Berto’s head and rested his forehead

on Berto’s. “All we need is a new bowl and collar.”

“You know you’re the smartest person I know?”

“Nah.” Remi turned his face from Berto. “We needed a dog to make

the house noisy again. Claude was ready for his forever home. It was all

meant to be. From Picasso, with love, or something sappy like that.”

“I’m glad I turned around back in seventh grade math class. I found

my soul mate who gets me even when I’m stuck in my own rut. Who

would’ve thought twenty-five years of being my best friend would make

you so smart.” Berto rubbed his forehead against Remi’s. “I’ll always

love Picasso, but this is the greatest gift we could have. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”