The Redo (Winslow Brothers #4) (73)

“So would yours,” he mouths.

“Our clients suck,” I mouth back just as Daniel’s voice is filling my ear and asking me a question regarding a contract he’s trying to draw up.

Rem nods at me with wide, knowing eyes and takes a bite of his pasta as he keeps Izzy close to his chest.

And the night pretty much moves on like that, Rem fielding market calls and me fielding real estate calls, while both of us attempt to eat and take care of Izzy at the same time.

By the time the clock strikes eleven, I feel so exhausted that I just throw myself onto my bed once we get Izzy to sleep in her crib.

To my surprise, when I look up from my facedown spot, Remy is climbing into bed beside me.

“I might need to rest for a minute before I head home.”

Both of us are still fully dressed in our work clothes, but the idea of switching into something more comfortable sounds more uncomfortable than sleeping in my skirt and blouse.

“Just sleep here,” I tell him without a second thought. “Is it just me, or was tonight a long one?” I whisper toward him, and he nods, yawns, and adjusts the comforter so it’s covering both of our bodies.

“Nope, not just you. I still think my deserted island idea is the way to go.”

I snort. “You’re nuts.”

“And you’re nuts for not agreeing with me.”

“If I weren’t so tired,” I say through a yawn, and my eyelids start to feel impossible to keep open. “I’d have a better comeback. But I have nothing.”

“Same, Ria,” Remy whispers back, and his voice is already thick with sleep. “Same.”





Wednesday, October 9th

Remy

All I feel are softness and curves. Over me. Around me. Pressed against me.

This is a good fucking dream.

The smell of the most delicious flowery perfume engulfs my head, and the sound of soft panting fills my ears.

Damn, that’s sexy.

Hands grip at the material of my shirt, and the feel of warmth rhythmically pressing against my thigh makes my cock take notice. Like, really take notice. So much so that I no longer feel like I’m sleeping.

I feel awake. Really awake.

I blink my eyes open, and the light of the moon coming in through the windows is the first thing my brain can understand.

The second? Maria.

Her long hair fans over my shoulder, and it’s her hands that grip my shirt, tugging at the material with her fingers. Her full breasts are pressed against my ribs, her thigh is stretched across mine, and the rhythmic sensation against my body is her. Grinding against me.

Holy fuck. Definitely not dreaming.

Her breaths come out in more soft pants and brush across my neck, and in an instant, my cock is at full attention.

Fuck me.

I think she’s still sleeping. I don’t know. I can’t tell, but when a sexy little moan leaves her lungs, I have to find out.

“Maria,” I whisper her name, my voice already strained with my undeniable arousal.

But she doesn’t answer. Just keeps grinding herself against me.

“Maria,” I whisper again, and it’s then that her eyes pop open and meet mine.

Her gaze is sleepy but still shining with heat and desire, and I can’t stop myself from thinking about how beautiful she is. Maria has always been beautiful to me, but there is something about seeing her raw and without inhibitions that makes me feel crazy with need.

The need to touch her.

Feel her.

Kiss her.

Slide my cock inside her.

Slowly, I reach down and brush my knuckles over her breasts, and her nipples are hard beneath the material of her silk shirt.

She whimpers, and her hips jolt forward against me.

I move my hand farther down her body, but when I grip her thigh, something changes behind her eyes. It’s like she’s finally fully awake. Completely aware of what’s happening.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” she whispers and starts to avert her eyes from mine, guilt and shame lowering her chin. “I don’t know what I was doing… I think I was… I—”

“Maria,” I cut her off, not giving her space to apologize for something that’s done the opposite of make me uncomfortable. And then I tell her the only thing that makes sense right now. “I want you too.”

I lift her chin with my index finger and search her eyes.

When she doesn’t pull away this time, I slowly, carefully, lean forward until our mouths are just a breath away from each other.

“Remy,” she whispers as she grips my shirt tighter and she presses her body into mine.

Fuck. I have to kiss her.

I can’t not kiss her.





Maria

Kiss me, Remy, my mind whispers as my eyes search his.

His eyes are hooded and his lips are parted, and I don’t know what we’re doing right now or how we got here, but I can’t find any reason to stop.

Please kiss me.

I almost say the words out loud. I almost open my mouth to tell him, but somehow, he already knows. Lips to mine, Remy kisses me.

It’s slow and gentle at first, a careful exploration of each other. But eventually, it doesn’t feel like enough, and I find myself kissing him back with a fervor, a deepness and desperation, that makes me feel greedier than I’ve been in I don’t know how many years.