Page 41 of Branson's Promise

There was not a chance I was leaving the defenceless creature to fend for itself, so, after throwing the bag into the trash, I took the cat into the studio through the back door.

“Zach,” I called out to my boss as I entered, “do you have a towel I could have?” Zach came around the corner then, his eyebrow raised in question. He was a large man, bald, and stocky, with huge muscles and tattoos covering almost all available skin. He had the kindest green eyes and a killer smile that made you feel welcome from the moment he aimed it your way.

“Whatcha got there, bud?” Zach asked as he came closer to me, studying the bundle of fur in my arms.

“Found it in the alley.”

Zach frowned. “Poor thing, being left outside in this heat. Let me see.” I passed it over to him and he lifted it up, inspecting its rear, then in its ears and mouth before handing it back to me.

“Little girl, probably eight, maybe a bit more weeks old,” he said with a shrug.

I stared at him speechless for a moment. “How did you work all that out?”

He grinned. “Mom’s a vet. Sister is now too. We had plenty of kittens growing up. Rabbits and puppies as well. Even hand reared a few when I was a teen. She looks healthy enough, like maybe someone was caring for her at some point. An unwanted gift maybe. So hard to tell.”

Grinding my teeth, I inwardly cursed the kind of person who would throw a kitten away like a piece of trash. “I’m going to keep her,” I blurted out, surprising myself, but Zach only smiled, looking between the little thing and me.

“Figures. She likes you. Cats pick their person and I’d say she’s picked you.” I looked down at the kitten, now sleeping in the crook of my elbow and had to agree with him.

“Looks like she has.” So what if my lease said no pets. I’d make it work.

“Why don’t you head off for the day and get that little girl home? Some food and water and a litter tray is all you need to get started, but get her to a vet soon, alright?”

Zach walked back to the front of the store and I carried the kitten to the break room where I placed her in a clean empty box that I found in the storage closet, then gathered up the rest of my things.

“Come on sweet girl, let's get you home so you can meet your other daddies.”

Home.

It was no longer just a place. No longer the apartment I paid rent on. Or the location of my bed. It was wherever Branson and Noel were.

That was home.

Being theirs was better than I could have dreamed, had I even had the forethought to dream a relationship so comforting. And though a niggle of doubt crept in from time to time - the thought that I wasn’t good enough for them - they constantly reminded me how much they needed and wanted me. Though I doubted myself, I never doubted Noel and Branson or their feelings for me.

Tonight, home was Noel’s suite at The Starlight and as I reached the front door of the plush hotel, I hoped they didn’t have a no pet policy or Juliet and I would be sneaking in around the back. Juliet, my feisty, furry tiger-kitten who’d meowed the entire subway ride here.

Clutching the box tightly against my chest, I waved hello to Michael, the porter, and walked briskly through the lobby to the back elevator, which I opened using the key Noel had given me, swiping it again to enter the floor to the suite. Why Noel insisted on keeping a place here and at the New Manor Hotel, I don’t know. A person really didn’t need so many places to live in the same city.

Opening the door to the suite, I was greeted by a beautiful sight - my two sexy as fuck boyfriends together on the sofa, watching a film. Branson's head was resting on Noel's lap and I could see from my position at the door that he was holding our boyfriend's cock in his mouth. This was something he did for Noel, often when I was with them but we'd also agreed it was finewhen I wasn't too. It wasn't sexual to them, but rather an act that brought them both comfort.

By the way Noel was wrinkling his nose at the screen, I was going to guess they were watching something Branson had selected and not something my nature documentary loving boyfriend would have preferred.

“You’re home,” Branson said, Noel falling from his lips. He untangled himself, paused the television and jumped up to greet me with a soft, tender kiss. His attention was drawn to the box when Juliet loudly announced her presence.

“Milo, what do you have in that box?” Noel asked, adjusting his sweats and making his way to where I was standing. Branson was now slowly lifting Juliet from the box.

“This is the most adorable thing I have ever seen. Hello little kitty-witty,” Branson said in a sing-song baby voice, while he rocked the kitten from side to side. Moving my eyes from him to the tall man in front of me, my lips tipped up at the stern expression on his face.

“Um, a cat?”

“I can see that, but why exactly have you brought a cat home with you?”

Branson made his way back to the sofa and sat with her on his lap while she clawed at the drawstring on his track pants.

“I found her in an alley, in a cardboard box. What else could I do? I couldn't leave her there, she’s so little.”

Noel stepped forward, crowding me until I stepped back, knocking into the wall. He pressed closer, and my pulse sped up at the intensity of his glare and the firm set of his lips. Just as I started to think I’d made a huge mistake, his lips twitched and the fucker smiled. “You have a kind heart, Milo.” He kissed me and I sank into him, enjoying the feel of his hard body, momentarily losing myself in him and forgetting theconversation at hand. That was the problem with these two. They had the power to sidetrack me very easily.

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