Loving Edits

by Mickie B. Ashling

  “Didn’t I tell you this was a gift? It’s just money, Mick; let me spend it on you.”

  “I will buy the apartment,” Tono interjected in a loud and decisive voice. “I will only move on that condition.”

  Mick and Paul turned to Tono, who sipped his coffee calmly after laying down the law.

  “Excuse me?” Paul asked. “No one asked for your money.”

  “This is where you and I will have a problem, Pol. You don’t make decisions for me.”

  “I’m not,” Paul blustered. “I thought you wanted the best for Mick?”

  “I do, but I also want you to understand one thing. Mick is my partner, not yours. You don’t get to decide anything without my approval.”

  “Gentlemen, please,” Mick spoke softly, reaching for their hands. “I can’t deal with any more stress. I know your patience is wearing thin, and I am grateful to have you both see me through this, but we’re going to have to establish some ground rules. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being a referee.”

  Paul stood abruptly. “You won’t have to, Mick. Tono and I will work it out. In the meantime, I’ll have my lawyers get in touch. You need to finalize your paperwork, the trust, and power of attorney, like Dr. Jordan suggested. Then I’ll have the property manager contact you, Tono. Is that okay with you?”

  “That’s fine.” Tono nodded. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 14

  PAUL drove away from the Chelsea apartment no calmer than when he’d arrived. His temper was boiling over, and if Mick hadn’t been so sick, or if the events of the last few hours hadn’t been so traumatic, he would have had a verbal tussle with Tono just to get it out of his system.

  How dare he remind him that he was Mick’s partner? Paul was all too aware that he was the intruder, the proverbial third wheel. Admittedly, watching Mick in crisis and wanting to help caused him to lapse for a brief moment. He was acting like Mick’s partner, and not just his friend and business associate. A momentary slip, but one Tono picked up on immediately.

  His second mistake was assuming that Tono would go along with his plans because they’d had great sex. Obviously not! They’d used each other to get off, an act that was more a mutual masturbation than any form of lovemaking. It was the much-needed release they were seeking to numb the pain of watching the man they both loved take another step into his personal hell. However, their actions had planted some sort of seed in Paul’s arid emotional garden, something Tono didn’t realize, which made their association harder to manage.

  And then there was Mick, caught between the two of them. It was going to be hard enough to stay positive and upbeat with the daily challenges he faced, so being witness to this constant battle of wills was pointless and unnecessary. It was Paul’s responsibility, or one he’d assumed, to ensure that Mick was as comfortable and stress-free as possible. He would have to find some middle ground in dealing with Tono. The Spaniard wasn’t going to allow Paul to walk over him, and in truth, he didn’t want to anymore. What he wanted was a partnership of sorts, some way to make this bearable for everyone, especially Mick.

  He dialed his home, hoping Baxter would pick up. “Alcott residence.” Paul sighed with relief as Baxter’s well-modulated voice sounded in his ear, reassuring him that some things hadn’t changed.

  “Baxter, do you have the number for the property manager of the Terraces?”

  “I’m sure we do. Hold on for one moment.” Paul waited no more than fifteen seconds, and Baxter was back on the phone giving him the number. “Thank you.” He hung up and punched in the numbers.

  Paul began to speak as soon as someone answered. He was pleased to find out that there were actually two apartments available for sale, and he requested that someone meet him in approximately one hour. He wanted to take a shower before he started his day, seeing as how he’d run out of his apartment earlier without so much as brushing his teeth. He reeked of sex―a combination of Mick and Tono―a pungent reminder of what had happened an hour ago. He had to admit that it had been deeply satisfying on many levels. Talking Mick off the ledge and joining forces with Tono gave him hope that there might be some sort of resolution, though it was bittersweet. Success, in shoving thoughts of suicide away for the moment, was worth every bit of aggravation he’d endured in the Spaniard’s presence.

  His next call was to Linda. He had her home number programmed into his mobile phone, but he’d never used it before; however, this was an emergency as far as he was concerned.

  “Mr. Alcott!” Linda’s voice rose in surprise. “Is there anything you need?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you at home, Linda, but I need a big favor.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “I need some help finding out what it would take to equip an apartment for a paraplegic―as soon as possible.”

  “Sir, it’s Saturday, and most places are closed.”

  “Didn’t we already have a discussion on no and impossible and resourcefulness?” Paul pointed out. He was doing his best to control his temper, but he was close to his breaking point.

  “I’ll get right on it, sir. Where is the apartment located?”

  “At Alcott Terrace, Linda, where the fuck else?” Paul snapped, then immediately felt horrible for losing his temper. The poor girl had nothing to do with the terrible events that were unfolding, and he was taking out his anger and frustration on her.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Thank you, Linda. I’m sorry I barked at you.” He hung up as he approached the garage. He waited impatiently, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while the massive roller doors opened; he proceeded down the ramp into the sub-basement level to his designated parking spot. The elevator directly in front of it was an express that hurled him up to his penthouse without stopping on any other floor.

  Baxter had coffee waiting, anticipating Paul’s needs as usual, and Paul snatched the mug on his way to the bathroom, swallowing the contents in three large gulps, risking second-degree burns. He stripped quickly and showered, soaping his body and lingering for a few minutes over his cock as he thought about Tono and his technique. He felt himself stir as visions of the Spaniard shrouded him like the mist created by the steaming hot water. He imagined the athlete on his knees nuzzling his cock. His erection was insistent, swelling and growing stiff with the image of Tono squeezing his ass forcefully. He noted the dark bruises on his thighs where the Spaniard had gripped him earlier, and it aroused him further. He groaned out his relief as he came in shuddering waves all over the shower wall.

  He spread his legs and planted both hands against the wall, bending his head so that the triple showerheads massaged him, releasing the tension that he’d been carrying around for the last few hours. His heart rate had jumped from his orgasm, but it slowed to a normal rhythm as the water continued to pour down his body in heavy sheets. Finally, he roused himself and turned off the water, reached for the fluffy, extra large Turkish Cotton towel, and wrapped it around his waist. He stood over the sink, getting ready to shave and brush his teeth. He wiped the steam off the mirror and stared at himself.

  His appearance hadn’t changed, but he knew that his mindset had shifted completely. He was no longer taking life and living for granted. Not now, when Mick’s life had been cut short and was as delicate as a newly planted seedling. He was going to enjoy each moment with Mick, and Tono, since he was part of the package. He vowed to do the best he could for both men, to further their literary careers, and to make Mick as comfortable and as independent as possible. He would give him the best equipment money could buy, hoping that by doing so, all thoughts of suicide and death would disappear.

  MICK sat on Tono’s lap as the water beat down on them. They were experimenting with different ways to get him clean, and this seemed to be the best solution for now. The apartment bathroom was not made for communal showers, so it was cramped and difficult to maneuver.

  “Boy, Paul wasn’t kidding when he said this wasn’t made for a three-way,” Mick joked as
Tono knocked his elbow against the wall and cussed in Euskara.

  “Really, this is stupid. I can’t wait to move,” Tono grumbled.

  “Majo, look at me.”

  “¿Qué pasa?”

  “Thank you for letting Paul into my life again.”

  Tono shrugged and was silent for a minute. Finally, he spoke. “I won’t lie and say that I’m one hundred percent okay. It bothers me to hear you call him sweetheart. I hated to hear you say that you loved him. I thought that was over, Mick.”

  “It is over, Tono. Our old relationship died a long time ago, but my feelings for Paul are deep-rooted and will never go away. I can’t help that. Loving him isn’t something I can control, but I’m not in love with him, if you know what I mean.”

  “Explain it to me,” Tono said gently while he carried Mick out of the shower stall and made their way back into the bedroom. He laid him down on the towel he’d brought along and began to dry every part of him methodically. “Tell me what you mean when you say you love him, but you don’t.”

  “Paul is my youth, majo. When I’m with him, I can almost forget my present because he reminds me so much of my past; a life filled with hope for what lay ahead. He was instrumental in making my dream come true. I can’t forget that, even though the end of our relationship was muddied by betrayal. I love him like family, Tono. He’s a part of who I am, and that will never change. Isn’t there anyone in your life that you love in a way that’s meaningful but different from the way you love me?”

  Tono nodded. “My friend Paco and I were lovers when we were young, but it’s so different with you.”

  “It’s different, but you do love him, right? If he needed your help, you’d be right there.”

  “I would never say no to him.”

  “Exactly. That’s how I feel about Paul.”

  “But, I don’t want to have sex with Paco,” Tono said sharply. “You enjoy sleeping with Pol.”

  Mick had to really think about his answer, to make sure he explained himself so that Tono’s feelings were spared. “Physically, I’m still attracted to Paul. He’s a beautiful man―I know you find him attractive as well.”

  “He’s sexy,” Tono said, begrudgingly.

  “And you and I have allowed others into our bed in the past.”

  “But we never had feelings for the others. It was pure sex.”

  “Admittedly, it’s a little different with Paul.”

  “It’s a lot different!” Tono said heatedly. “Tell me that it means nothing.”

  “It’s comforting, majo… that’s all,” Mick said softly. “It makes me feel good to know he still wants me, despite what’s going on.”

  “Cariño, I’m sorry.” Tono’s voice was filled with remorse. “Let’s not talk about Pol anymore.”

  Mick nodded but was overcome with his feelings. He couldn’t stop the tears that rolled down his cheeks or help the heaviness in his heart as he thought about his situation―having both men in his life was critical to his mental health. He had no idea how to explain this to Tono or Paul without alienating both of them. Fortunately, Tono had an immediate solution in hand, and Mick’s breathing stuttered and stopped as his lover began to kiss him, murmuring endearments in Spanish, making the emotion that much more intense.

  “I love you, Tono,” Mick sighed, relieved that thoughts of Paul were forgotten. Tono repositioned him, moving Mick so they were chest-to-chest, grinding and sliding matching erections, slippery with need. The temperature in the room soared as their body heat ratcheted up several notches. Mick lost himself in the passion, forgetting for one brief moment what was happening to his body until Tono said, “Fuck me.”

  Mick froze, unable to move his legs. Tono realized his mistake immediately, and he deftly moved Mick into a sitting position with Mick’s knees on either side of his hips. He slathered his cock with lube, wiping the residue in and around his lover’s asshole, which quivered with his touch. He lifted Mick with powerful arms and slowly impaled him on his cock. “Oh my God,” Mick breathed. “Oh. My. God!”

  Tono cupped Mick’s face and drew him down to his mouth. They were drowning in each other, too lost in their love and passion to care how they were making this work. It didn’t matter who was doing what. The most important thing was that they were sharing this intimate moment; something precious and powerful keeping them grounded and connected in every way possible.

  “Te quiero,” Tono whispered, rolling them over once more so he was now on top. He gazed into Mick’s eyes, which radiated love and trust, banishing thoughts of Paul. The jealousy would probably linger, but the certainty that he was loved by this beautiful man in his arms was more than enough to sustain him. Although Mick’s movements were not quite as vigorous, it was doing the job; Tono came in a warm gush, while Mick’s come splashed against Tono’s stomach and neck. He laid his head down on Mick’s chest, oblivious to the sticky mess in between them, and listened to their combined heartbeats thumping steadily.

  “Don’t pull out, majo. I want to feel you inside me for as long as I can.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, cariño. I’m here to stay.”

  Chapter 15

  THE two available apartments were almost identical, except one had an extra room and a better view of Central Park. Its price tag reflected this bonus, but Tono didn’t flinch when the figure was mentioned.

  He pushed Mick’s wheelchair throughout the bigger apartment as they followed Paul, who had opted to accompany the property manager while Mick and Tono toured the premises. Linda had come through with flying colors, moving up in Paul’s estimation by providing several items that Mick would need now that his legs could no longer support him.

  The wheelchair was state-of-the-art, not that it mattered since none of the three men had any idea what was good or bad in wheelchair technology. They were learning things on the fly, dealing with Mick’s needs as they arose. It was an entire new world they were embarking on, and one filled with physical challenges requiring much planning. There were a few emotional moments when Mick insisted on crutches to get by instead of the wheelchair, but he found out that any sort of mobility would be impossible without it. He could lift himself to a standing position and hang on to exercise bars, but Mick expecting to get from place to place with the help of crutches was unrealistic. It would overexert his arms, which were working fine for now but didn’t need the extra strain that would be caused by dragging his lower half around.

  “I think we’ve seen enough,” Tono remarked, standing by the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked Central Park. “This is beautiful, don’t you agree, cariño?”

  “Very nice, but can we afford it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure?” Mick asked, always concerned with the bottom line.

  “It’s not a problem.” Tono bent down and kissed Mick on the cheek. “Don’t worry about money, cariño. We have it.”

  Paul watched the exchange and hoped that they would take the apartment without any arm-twisting. He was more than happy to give it to them, since he did own it, but saved that gesture as a last resort; he didn’t want to insult either man. Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary.

  “How soon can we move in?” Tono asked.

  Paul looked at the manager of Alcott Terrace and nodded with satisfaction when the man said, “Five to seven days should give us enough time to get the paperwork completed.”

  “What about the rest of it?” Paul asked. “The contractor needs to get in here to refurbish the bathroom and bedroom. We want it compliant with Mr. Henley’s physical requirements.”

  “Once the money exchanges hands and the papers are signed, the apartment will be available for remodeling. You can do anything you want to it, sir.”

  “Then let’s do it,” Tono said. “I will call my manager in Spain and have the money transferred immediately.”

  “Good. Now, let’s go upstairs and have our celebration dinner. Baxter has something special planned.”

  “Baxter i
s still around?” Mick asked in surprise.

  “Sure. He hasn’t changed,” Paul said. “A permanent fixture in my life.”

  “Who’s Baxter?” Tono asked.

  “My assistant. He’s been with the family for a zillion years.”

  BAXTER had indeed prepared the finest dinner, with the help of the catering department of the Four Seasons Restaurant. Cooking wasn’t his forte, but planning a meal was within his realm of expertise. The table had been set out on the terrace to take advantage of the warm summer night. With a backdrop of blooming bougainvilleas and hydrangeas in assorted clay pots and trellises of pink and purple clematis leaning on a brick wall, they were mentally and visually transported to the south of France, easily able to forget they were on a rooftop garden in Manhattan.

  Baxter placed an iced goblet of frozen margarita in front of each man and a tray of assorted appetizers in the center of the large round table.

  “Thank you,” Mick said, rewarding Baxter with his generous smile. “I’m so glad to see that you haven’t changed much through the years.”

  “I doubt that’s true, sir, but I appreciate the sentiment,” Baxter huffed, embarrassed by the attention.

  “Nonsense, Baxter, and please call me Mick.”

  “As you wish.”

  “This is an amazing setup,” Tono remarked. “Do you ever use the pool?”

  Paul turned away from Mick’s gaze and focused on Tono. He found himself drawn to the limpid eyes that were remarkably mellow tonight. The fierce and antagonistic rivalry between them was squelched for now, replaced by a softer and more gracious attitude. Paul had no idea what had occurred to turn the Spaniard around, but he wasn’t about to question his good fortune. He was going to enjoy this side of Tono and focus on the man’s physical attributes, which continued to entice him, despite the blatant masculinity. The chest hair still bothered him, and his fantasies of shaving Tono leaped to the forefront of his brain.