Chapter 13

                                    

                                          
Kimberly's P.O.V
                          
"Morning baby cakes." Nicholas greeted me in an overjoyed voice that just made me feel worse than I already was.
                          
"Morning Nick." I sighed and headed over to the coffee maker to pour myself some coffee.
                          
The house was too quiet, it was very early in the morning and I couldn't sleep any longer, not that I slept much during the night. All I could think of was Miguel's tongue, and mouth sending me to and from heaven. Just taking me back and forth like I was damn yo-yo. The way he groaned when I sucked harder on his plump lips, or when I pulled his hair, it was quite a bliss then I remember being called by another woman's name. And the little smile I spotted for a few seconds vanished from my face.
                          
I know I haven't dated a lot, but please even I know that is where one draws the line. That is such a deal breaker!
                          
"Ooh who pissed in your cheerios?" Nicholas teased while wiggling his brows.
                          
"No one, where are the rest of your family?" I asked observing that the scary looking guys were no where near the kitchen as they usually are.
                          
"They don't lounge around all day baby cakes they have jobs to do." He sounded defeated, could be because I wasn't letting him on the current affairs.
                          
"Oh." My only reply before I tried to exit the kitchen.
                          
"Wait, aren't you eating breakfast?" He asked, stopping me from behind.
                          
"No, Nicholas." I spun around to face him. "I can't stomach anything right now besides coffee. I'm afraid if I eat, I'll throw up. Now may I be excused?" I cocked an eyebrow at him, of which he didn't like one bit. I knew this by seeing the tick of his vein on his neck nearly pop.
                          
"Look I'm a nice guy here, I like you, you don't have to be a bitch about it." He didn't waver, just kept a straight up eye contact.
                          
"Wow, first I get called a whore, now a bitch? I wonder what's next." I gave him a sad smile and pulled my arm by force from his tight grip almost tripping and falling into the last person I wanted to see on this earth.
                          
"Watch it!" The mean voice spoke up.
                          
And I just kept quiet and moved past by him.
                          
"Your aunt called and I told her you are on vacation that's why you haven't been in touch. She told me to tell you that and I quote 'tell her although I called to scold her for not checking up on me, Mr fluffy ears is dead and I know she would jump for joy at the news but I'm sad about it, anyway I don't want to ruin her vacation tell her not to worry about me, and to thank her for the money she sent but it's quite a lot, I need to talk to her about it some time and also try not to give her babies, just one would do. Bye for now.' End quote." Miguel Lobos wore a proud smirk while he was quoting my aunt, while all I can do is grimace at the thought of us making babies. We almost did and that ended up badly!
                          
But wait, a lot of money? 
                          
"I made a specific debit amount to my aunt every month end, she never complained before. What does she mean I sent her a lot of money?" I was asking myself in particular. There must be a mistake.
                          
"Oh, I made changes to that." Miguel proudly informed me.
                          
"You did what? How?" I was instantly getting pissed at the guy, forget last night, where does he get the nerve to go through my personal account and change things for me? And what kind of bank lets a man, a stranger at that, do as he pleased with my bank account?
                          
"I can do anything I want. Now just say thank you and we shall move on." With that said he walked further into the kitchen, sat down and opened one of the plates neatly placed on the table. Breakfast.