The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (118)

“Rem?” Thatch is still there, but who the fuck cares when Maria is wet and warm and perfectly wrapped around my cock.

She glances over her shoulder with wide, persistent, you-are-crazy eyes, but when I thrust inside her once, twice, three, four…ten times, those eyes turn hooded and glazed over, and her breaths turn to soft pants.

“Rem, seriously, man? What the fuck are you doing over there?”

Having sex with the most beautiful woman on the fucking planet.

Maria doesn’t hesitate to do the honors of reaching out and ending the call before the persistent bastard can say anything else.

And then she surprises the hell out of me by standing up, turning around, and straddling her thighs over my lap.

Slowly, oh so fucking slowly, she slides herself back down on my length, and it’s my turn for my head to fall back from the amazing feel of her wrapped around me.

“You said no work,” she says, grabbing my chin and forcing me to meet her eyes.

“Technically, I was only working while you were sleeping. And then I was working while I was fucking you. So, I’d say I was just multitasking.”

“Oh, that’s how you look at it?” she questions, and I reach out to grab both of her breasts in my big, greedy hands again.

“Uh-huh.”

“So, I can take work calls too?”

“Only if my cock is inside you.”

She giggles, but then when I grip her hips and start up a rhythm, those giggles turn to moans at a rapid pace.

And it’s not long before my beautiful Maria is coming hard on my cock and I’m pushed to the hilt, filling her up.

Fuck. I never want to stop doing this with her.





Tuesday, November 12th

Maria

I am dressed and ready for Remy’s and my dinner out at a fancy restaurant that’s apparently a twenty-minute drive from the private beach house he rented for us in the Bahamas.

That’s right. I’m in the freaking Bahamas, and I’m about to go on a real, actual date with no work calls or showings or the responsibilities that come with being a mom.

Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I traveled somewhere for fun. It feels like it’s been years. Even before I got pregnant with Izzy, I always stayed too busy with work to do anything besides, well, work.

Because you’ve been a workaholic for the past two decades.

It’s kind of sad how I’ve just let my life pass me by because I’ve been too focused on my career. Obviously, I love what I’ve achieved, I’m proud of what I’ve achieved, but I realize now more than ever that work shouldn’t define my life.

And I have my sweet little Izzy to thank for that. She’s shown me there’s more to life than hitting career goals.

Remy’s shown you that, too.

“Maria, the car will be here in about four minutes!” Remy calls out from somewhere in the living room, and I quickly toss my lipstick and compact into my purse.

“Okay! But I want to call and check on Izzy before we go!” I answer back as I head out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

But when I reach the living room, I find Remy sitting on one of the big white sofas with his phone held up toward his face. He grins at me and turns the screen so that I can see his mom’s smiling face with a sleeping Izzy in her arms.

Aw, my sweet baby.

My heart expands and wants to crack in half at the same time.

“Izzy is an angel. I’m keeping her forever,” Wendy says, and I don’t hesitate to take the phone from Remy’s hands.

“Is she doing okay? Eating and sleeping like she should? What about diaper rash? Have you—”

“Maria, she’s doing fantastic.” Remy’s mom cuts me off with a soft whisper and a knowing look in her eyes. “She’s eating well, sleeping around seven hours a night, and hasn’t had any issues with diaper rash or gas.”

“I miss her,” I whisper, watching the way her little eyelids flutter in her baby dreams. “Goodness, is it normal to feel like half your heart is missing?”

“The first time I left all five of my kids with their aunt Paula and uncle Brad so I could enjoy a girls’ weekend, I sobbed for hours in my hotel room.”

“Okay, so I’m not crazy, then?” A self-deprecating laugh jumps from my lips. “This is normal that I feel like I’m a bad mom for loving that Rem surprised me with this trip? But knowing that, while loving it, I’ve left my baby behind?”

“You’re not crazy. And you’re a good momma.” Wendy pointedly meets my eyes. “You’re in the Bahamas, refilling your cup, enjoying a little relaxation, and that will only make you a better momma for Izzy when you get back. Self-care is one of the most important but often forgotten things with motherhood. It’s as if we’d rather run ourselves into the ground for our kids than take some time for ourselves.”

Her words hit the nail on the head.

“You’re saying all the things I needed to hear right now.”

“All the things you deserved to hear.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, and Remy comes up behind me to wrap his arms around my waist. We’re both on the screen now, looking at his mom as she holds a still-sleeping Izzy in her arms.

“Thanks for taking care of our girl, Mom.”