Sleeping With The Boss's Husband (EDITED/REWRITTEN)

17- Dinner with Nick's parents

Brianna:

I opened my eyes and saw a beautiful pair of hazel-colored eyes staring back at me. "Good morning," Nick said in a sexy morning voice that had me squirming a little.

I smiled, leaned forward, kissing his lips, and hummed, "Good morning." I draped my arm over his body and slithered my way closer to him. "I love waking up, seeing you are looking at me, smiling, with you also still here lying in bed with me."

"Me too," he smiled. "I love it more than you know."

"I always hated it when you left me at night, in the middle of the night, or before I awoke in the mornings."

His arm tightened around me, kissed my lips, then pressed his forehead to mind. "I always hated it too. And I dreaded that drive back to my place. But that won't be happening anymore."

I smiled and whispered, "Promise?"

"I promise."

Hearing that promise from him had me smiling bigger. While looking at Nick, my stomach was feeling funny, and I wasn't sure if it was a feeling of hunger or if I was about to be sick; and swallowed, trying to refrain myself from getting sick. I reached my hand to his lower lip and using my thumb, I caressed it while asking, "Are you hungry at all?"

He chuckled. "I'm always hungry for you."

"Not for me," I giggled, playfully shoving him. "I meant for food. As in, are you hungry for breakfast?"

"Again, I'm always hungry for breakfast. Meaning you," Nick devilishly smirked, then hung out his tongue, flicking it up and down fast.

I laughed, playfully shoved him, then rolled out of bed. "Nevermind. I'll start making you breakfast."

Nick bellowed a laugh as I stood off the bed and reached for my clothes. As I bent over to put on my shorts, he playfully smacked my ass. "Yes, Hun. I'm starving."

"Hey," I giggled, quickly pulling up my shorts. "I'll be in the kitchen making your breakfast," I said, putting on my shirt as I headed to the kitchen. I was still a bit nervous about making eggs, but knowing the expiration date was nearing, and I needed to get rid of the eggs, I decided to make Nick French toast.

As I was preparing breakfast, I heard Nick talking to someone in the other room. I stopped whipping the eggs and tilted my head, extending my ear and trying to listen to what he was saying. Then my heart and stomach dropped after overhearing him say, 'yeah, I love you too.' I set the bowl on the counter, then bent down, opened the cupboard, removed the griddle, then slammed the door as I stood. Next, I opened a drawer and angrily dug through it, looking for my spatula, then hit the drawer shut after finding the spatula I needed.

Nick walked up behind me, rested his hands on my shoulders, then leaned over, trying to get me to look at him; when I refused, he slowly spun me around. "Why on earth are you slamming doors and drawers? What's wrong?"

I shoved him off and turned around after feeling tears flooding my eyes.

"Brianna? What's wrong?"

I shook my head, breathed in deep, and closed my eyes, taking some deep breaths to calm myself.

"Hey. Talk to me."

I wiped the tears away from my cheeks and said, "Who were you saying I love you to?"

His hands lowered from me, then he softly chuckled. "I was talking to my mother." His hands then rested on either side of my hips and turned me to face him. He leaned forward, then lowered his lips to mine. "My parents would like to meet you."