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More, more, more.

He wanted more, and so did I.

For the first time in my life, I didn’t have to beg for more. He offered. He gave. He brought me here to ask, to propose a future, a life together.

The mess around us only added to my pleasure with each brush of our lips, each roll of his hips. It was us.

Messes. We were messes.

But together, we found calm in the chaos. Calm was all either of us had ever wanted. We sought it out in every area of our lives, all of every day.

Through our secrets, we got the dose of mayhem we’d only ever known, the havoc that parts deep within ourselves counted on, but in our fantasies, in each other’s touch, we relished in our deepest yearning—stability and structure and control.

Not of one another, but of the world around us. A steady foundation. That’s what we were after, and that’s what we were building. That’s what made this moment, this place, this joining of bodies, so intimate.

He came in closer, chest pressed to mine, letting me prop my chin on his shoulder. The bliss built and built as I looked at the cobweb-ridden staircase behind him. I could see it finished.

All the chipped wood restored. The peeling gold wallpaper replaced with something like us. Florals, or maybe something more abstract. Maybe something Sebastian painted.

I could see him there, stretching on a ladder, trimming out the edge of a star, or a tree. I could see the masterpiece afterward. I could see the two of us, tipsy after a night out with our friends, giggling, peeling off layers, taking two steps at a time to get to that canopied bed upstairs.

I could see us. Our future.

And with that visual, that hope, that excitement, came waves of pleasure that had me gasping and screaming sounds I didn’t know I could make. Sebastian made a few of his own, panting as his rhythm slowed.

Still holding me upright, fingers trailing the backs of my bare thighs, he dropped his head to my shoulder and pressed a kiss to my neck.

A little laugh escaping me, I wrapped my arms tighter around his shoulders. “Happy New Year.”

“This fir will be gorgeous refinished,” I said, grabbing my coat off the floor. Unlike most old flooring with yellow undertones, the grains passed from deep caramel to warm red. “I’m really glad it’s not pine. I hate pine.”

Buttoning his shirt, Sebastian arched a brow at me.

I propped my hands on my hips. “What?”

“I just didn’t realize you knew so much about wood grains.”

“There’s lots you’ve yet to learn about me.” I shot him a smirk, stepping backward for a better view of that chipped plaster above the cased opening to the formal living room. Little blots of green stood along the edges. “I also know that’s gonna be a bitch to fix.”

“What, that water damage?” He leaned against the banister beside me. “It’s not too bad.”

“I can smell the mold from here,” I said, glancing around. “Actually, I smelled it as soon as we walked in. And since we’re gonna have to rip the plaster off here anyway, it’d probably be a good idea to do that all over. Save the good wood, obviously, but we may as well install ductwork while we’re at it. And switch to PEX. Less chance of it rotting out like the copper did.”

He was smiling, but his forehead scrunched up with confusion. “How do you know all this?”

“Fixing stuff yourself is a hell of a lot cheaper than hiring a contractor.” I shrugged. “Before the ranch, I lived in an old house. My ex was a lazy shit. If I didn’t fix the leaky sink or the broken toilet, I didn’t have a sink or toilet. I have Google. I figured it out.”

“Huh.” Sebastian crossed his arms, looking up at that cracked ceiling. “At least you got that out of the shit show.”

“Many lessons learned.”

“Down to the studs makes sense, though,” he said. “We’d have to do that in a lot of places anyway. May as well modernize it all.”

“May as well.” I crossed my arms too, squinting down the hall. “So are you gonna give me the grand tour? Or do we need to go get Liz?”

Sebastian glanced at his watch. “We’ve got half an hour or so. Come here, we’ll check out down here first.”

He showed me the kitchen, which I agreed wouldn’t work. Together, we could barely fit inside it. In houses this old, there weren’t really kitchens—not in the modern sense. Just a wet room. Enough room for a sink and a fireplace. Only the hearth remained of the fireplace.