Page 29 of Branson's Promise
Relaxing against the seat, I caught her eyes again and she nodded almost imperceptibly. I silently thanked her, mouthing the words. Not for the first time, I wished I could get her out of that house too. That I could help her through university - doing something she wanted to do, and not be forced into a life our father wanted for her. A life I knew she didn’t want but was willing to accept for the sake of keeping the peace.
Forty-five minutes later we had dropped Mia off and were heading back to mine and Branson’s apartment when Noel piped up. “Would you two like to come to mine for a bit?” We all looked at each other then, the silent acknowledgement that we needed to talk hanging over us. I nodded as did Branson, and Raymond drove us to the hotel, which also housed one of Noel’s penthouse apartments.
The New Manor hotel was on 5th Avenue, only a few blocks over from Central Park. The building was modern with large windows, clean lines and a grey, white and steel facade. A large overhang protruded from the front, forming a canopy of sorts on which the hotel's name was displayed. A well-dressed valet stood beneath, welcoming a group of guests. It was by far one of the most impressive buildings on the street, and that was saying something given the immense number of prestigious buildings lining both sides of the avenue.
Noel led us through the ornately decorated lobby, bypassing the reception desk and heading towards a private elevator hidden off to one side. I paused briefly, taking in the grandeur. Grey and black tiles with geometric shapes lined the floors, and oversized lights hung from the high ceilings. Gold and black accents were dotted throughout and tall vases with intricate detailing lined one wall, a host of exotic plants of different sizes and shades of green filling each one. I’d stayed in hotels before, some of them unbelievably fancy but never anything like this.
“Woah, this is nice. Like I knew you were rich, but this is like rich, rich. I’m too scared to touch anything,” Branson said, his actions betraying his words as he ran his finger along a gold encrusted vase outside the lift. I couldn’t help the smile that settled on my face. The two of us, in beach shorts and t-shirts, could not have looked more out of place. Noel, dressed impeccably in linen chinos and a pressed shirt however, fit in beautifully. Like he was attending a film festival in the south of France, suave and glamorous. He didn’t seem to care though, placing a hand on each of our backs and guiding us to the opening lift doors.
“Touch whatever you want. I assure you nothing here is irreplaceable nor is any of it precious.”
The doors opened into a small carpeted lobby with cream walls with sketches of New York running along them towards another door. Noel produced a key card and opened it, showing us into his suite.
It was everything I expected it to be. Large and airy, with huge plush cream sofas, glass tables and mustard satin throw pillows. Pot plants stood on decorative tables along various walls and from the room we were standing in, I could see four openings to other rooms through large arches. Noel clicked a control near the door and music started playing from speakers hidden in the walls. I recognised the song that came on asUnsteadyby X Ambassadors and mentally gave one gold star to Noel for having good taste in music.
“I won’t lie, Noel, this place is fucking gorgeous but way too neat. I want to ruffle it up a bit. It barely looks like you live here,” Branson said as he walked over to one of the large sofas and promptly got to work moving the stiffly displayed cushions. Then, he threw himself into them and placed his flip flop covered feet on top of the glass table. I baulked at his actions,turning to see Noel’s reaction, but the guy only had hearts in his eyes and a crooked grin on his face.
“Make yourself at home, both of you.” Noel came over to me, taking slow, steady steps, then ran the back of his hand along my cheek. I met his eyes, searching them for something - what though, I wasn’t sure. “Relax, Milo. I don't care about this stuff and only want the two of you to be comfortable. Sit on it, throw it around. Hell, jump on the sofa and have a pillow fight for all I care. Just be comfortable, little artist.”
God, the nicknames, especially that one. I’d pretended to hate it, but it did something to me. It was like he saw me, saw the man I wanted to be, not the man my father said I would never amount to.
Tattooing pictures onto people’s skin is not art, Milo. It’s a waste of your time and yet another mistake you are determined to make.
I shook my head, pushing away my father’s words, refusing to let him ruin this for me too. Kicking off my shoes, I sat next to Branson and popped my feet on the table with his.
“Good, now that you two are settled, I will grab us some drinks, and then, I think it’s time we talked,” Noel said before leaving the room and heading through one of the open archways.
Branson sidled up closer to me, and I turned towards him. He chewed on his bottom lip, turning it a bright shade of red the more he gnawed on it. “Something on your mind?” I asked, lifting my hand and pressing a finger to his lip, freeing it from his teeth. His tongue poked out, licking my finger and tightness coiled down low, my dick twitching at the move.
“Can I kiss you?” Branson asked, my finger still resting against his swollen lip.
“Is that what’s on your mind? You want to kiss me?” Branson nodded and I continued. “What if I said you could kiss me whenever you wanted, that you didn’t have to ask?” He noddedagain. “Okay then, Branson, you can kiss me whenever you want.” He threw himself at me, clambering to straddle my waist until he was sitting on my lap, pressing his ass solidly on my arousal.
“And what about Noel?” Branson asked, his head tipped to the side, the strong curve of his neck a very inviting sight. Running my hands along his thighs, I leaned forward to press closed mouthed kisses to the exposed skin.
“What about him?”Kiss, kiss, kiss. I continued along his neck, trailing down to the dip in his collarbone. His body gave an uncontrollable shudder, the skin beneath my lips raising in little pinprick sized bumps.
“Can he kiss you too, whenever he likes?” Branson wiggled his hips and I groaned, loving the weight of his body on top of me.
Reluctantly, I pulled away from his neck, taking in his wide eyes and raised brow. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes, we both do. But only if you’re on the same page.” Branson’s voice was quiet but tinged with hopefulness.
I couldn't help my father’s voice from popping into my mind then. Berating me for thinking I'd have anything to offer them. What could they possibly want with a useless piece of shit like me - I could hear those words as clearly as if he was standing over me.
I saw nothing but honesty in his eyes and sincerity in his words. They wanted to be with me and for the first time in a very long time, someone else's words pushed away my father’s voice and I made the decision there and then to trust these two over the toxicity of my father.
Before meeting Noel and Branson, I had never considered dating two men at the same time, and maybe it wasn’t for everyone, but I couldn’t deny how much I wanted this.Them. Maybe it wouldn’t be easy, hell, it may not even be something that lasted in the long term, but it felt right now and with mymind constantly circling on my father’s words, I needed to trust how I felt. So yes, I was on the same page.
You, him and I.
“I am.”
“Good,” he said before covering my mouth with his. His lips were hot and hungry, roughly rubbing against mine, his tongue forcing my lips apart so it could spear inside. I’d watched him give up control to Noel, but he had all of it now. He was owning this kiss, owning me. And I fucking loved it.
“I see you two started without me,” came a warm, deep voice from behind Branson, and I looked over his shoulder to find Noel, three tall stemmed glasses in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other. A noticeable bulge tented his linen trousers. How long he’d been standing there, how much of that he’d heard? My gut swirled with a mixture of arousal, anticipation and anxiousness as fear crept into my blood, worried that he would be mad at what he had just walked into.
But the fear was short lived, and the arousal won out when Noel placed the wine and glasses on the table, strode over, confident as ever, kneeled on the couch beside us, and took my mouth in a soft, sweet kiss. I guess that answered how much he had heard. Branson didn’t move to climb off, instead, he wrapped one arm around Noel’s neck and the other he placed on my chest, right over my erratically thundering heart.