Page 567 of The Winslow Brothers

“I can’t. I’m not in New York.”

“Where the fuck are you?”

“On vacation. Bahamas.”

“You’re in the Bahamas?” he questions and then quickly adds, “Ohhhh…wait a minute! You took your sexymamacitafor a little tropical getaway, didn’t you?”

I laugh. “I did bring Maria, yes.”

“Hmmm…well, that’s interesting, Rem. So, let me get this straight… You’re basically living together. You love her kid. And you’re taking her on tropical getaways. I can’t be sure, but it’s almost like you’re in a committed relationship…”

While I can’t necessarily disagree with him, I’m not going to encourage a dive into my love life with Thatcher Kelly before I’ve even straightened shit out inside my own head.

“You have concerns about your portfolio that you can’t figure out for yourself?” I ask, hitting him where it hurts in an attempt to refocus the call.

The bastard cackles. “Look at you, trying to dodge the truth.”

“Good talk, Thatch. I’ll see you later.”

“Hold up, sweetheart,” he chimes in before I can hang up. “At least tell me what your game plan is with Cron stock. Hold or sell?”

“My game plan is done. I already put in to sell an hour ago.”

“Without fluffing telling me?”

A throat clearing behind me grabs my attention, and I glance over my shoulder to find Maria standing on the terrace…completelynaked.

Fuck me.

“Uh…excuse me, sir? Are you on a work call?” she asks quietly with narrowed eyes and a determined hand to her hip.

I shrug one shoulder. “Maybe?”

“Maybe?What the fuck does that mean?” Thatch demands into my ear.

“You said no work calls,” Maria adds, still standing there gloriously naked and eyeing me with a pointed stare.

I literally can’t take my eyes off her. Not her full breasts or rounded hips or tanned thighs. She looks like a fucking goddess standing there with the Caribbean sun shining down on her. Like God himself created her as the example of true, undeniable beauty.

“Yo, Rem? You still there, brother? Or did you fall into the fucking ocean?” Thatch is still in my ear. I sigh.

“The ocean is looking pretty inviting,” I say, looking at the waves of one Maria Baros.

I crook a finger at her. “Come here,” I mouth, but she doesn’t move, simply tilting her head to the side. “Come here,” I say quietly this time.

“Come where?” Thatch asks, and I ignore him, setting my phone down on the table and setting it to speaker.

Slowly, Maria sashays her sexy self over to me, and I don’t hesitate to scoot my chair back from the table and tug her down onto my lap.

She fights the urge to giggle, and her eyes go wide as she tries to convey to me that my phone isn’t muted, but when I wrap my mouth around her nipple and suck, a tiny little moan spills from her throat.

“Remy,” she whispers directly into my ear. “What are you doing?”

“Enjoying our vacation,” I whisper back. “Enjoyingyou.”

“Joying-You? What does that even mean, Rem?” Thatch’s voice booms from the speaker of my phone. “Is that some kind of new age tech stock I don’t know about? What’s the ticker?”

“Give me a sec, man. Internet is slow.”

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