30. Isabella
Thereare moments in life when leveraging one’s family name feels not just advantageous, but almost necessary. This was one of those moments. Navigating the complex terrain of NewYorkCity’s real estate, I found myself drawing upon the Esposito legacy to secure what was soon to become much more than a mere property—it was the manifestation of a dream, a cornerstone of my future. It took a flurry of phone calls, a whirlwind of paperwork, and a few strategically placed conversations, but forty-two days after Max and I first explored the dusty, forgotten corridors of the old brownstone, the keys dangled heavily in my hand, a symbol of new beginnings.
Inthose early days, I didn’t wait for the fanfare or assistance. With the ink barely dry on the paperwork, I ordered a dumpster, slipped into a pair of rugged overalls, and dove into the chaos of renovation. The house, once a relic hidden under layers of neglect, now stood bare and echoing, ready for transformation.
Istood amidst the empty rooms, the sledgehammer feeling almost surreal in my grip. The walls, stripped of their old, peeling wallpaper, loomed around me like blank canvases. Sunlight streamed through the grimy windows, casting a hopeful glow on the faded wooden floors. I could almost hear the echoes of laughter and conversation that would soon fill these spaces, transforming them from hollow echoes to warm, vibrant scenes of life.
Thedeep-cleaning crew had done wonders, erasing years of dust and grime, and leaving behind a sense of purity and potential. Now, as I roamed from room to room, each step resonated with possibility. The high ceilings and spacious rooms whispered secrets of elegant dinner parties, cozy winter nights by the fireplace, and sunny afternoons with sunlight streaming through the windows.
Myphone vibrated against the fabric of my overalls, snapping me out of my daydream. It was Max, his message a simple yet exciting prompt: “On my way. Ready to bust some walls?”
Agrin spread across my face as I typed a quick response. His enthusiasm was infectious, and I could already feel the adrenaline kicking in, a heady mix of excitement and anticipation.
Wehad decided to go all-in on each other over the last month or so. We were kind of going backward and actually dating and getting to know each other. I hadn’t missed a Sunday dinner at his mom’s house since.
I’dlearned Max loved the big family he came from and had always talked about wanting a mess of kids running around. One of his sisters had shared with me how hard it was when their dad had died when all the kids were so young and how Max had stepped up to help out. He had played Dad at such a young age but had been really good at it. Like he was meant for that role.
Ialso learned less serious things, like how he hated green peppers and loved popcorn as a midnight snack. One time, when I was snuggled up on his couch, he had randomly decided to make cinnamon rolls from scratch so we could have them for breakfast. All of these little things filtered through to let me know who Max was at his core. And all of those things were making me fall for him.
AsI waited for Max, my gaze drifted over the expanse of the main room. The grand fireplace stood as a stoic centerpiece, its mantel dusty but dignified, a silent witness to the home’s storied past and its promising future. I imagined where we might place the furniture, how the light would look streaming in during the golden hour, and where we might hang the art that would bring our personalities into the space.
Max’sarrival brought a new energy to the house. His presence seemed to fill the rooms, his laughter and optimism infectious. Together, we stood, side by side, on the threshold of our shared project. This wasn’t just about renovating a house. It was about building a life, a future that was as exciting as it was unknown.
Witha deep breath and a shared look of determination, we raised our sledgehammers. The walls that had confined the brownstone’s potential would soon fall away, opening up a world of possibilities. This was more than just a physical undertaking. It was a leap into a new chapter of our lives, one filled with hope, hard work, and the promise of something beautiful to be built together.
Butfirst, we needed to tear them down. The walls that were too damaged had been marked with an X from an inspector. They would all need to come down, but Max had promised he’d be the one to put them back up.
Wemade our way through the living room, swinging our sledgehammers and forcing sections of wall to crumble down. After tackling the downstairs, we both turned to face each other, covered in dust, chunks of wall, and sweat. My stomach growled loudly.
Luckily, we had working plumbing, so we were able to wash up in the kitchen even though the sink had chunks of porcelain taken out. I’d brought a stack of rags and soaked one to wipe down my face, chest, and arms. I swear I could taste plaster in the back of my throat.
“Wine and snack break?” Max asked, pulling out a small cooler and bottle of wine he’d brought in.
“Absolutely,” I replied.
Lifehack: date a sommelier and you’ll always have a glass of wine ready every time you turn around.
Maxpoured a buttery Chardonnay into plastic cups. He held his cup up as he said, “To you, to the house, to your hard work.”
Ismiled like a maniac at him. Everything was truly coming together exactly how I’d wanted it to even though I was too afraid to admit it just a few months ago. I tapped my cup against his before drinking. I couldn’t fight the giddiness I felt in my gut.
Tippingthe wine back, I swallowed my pour in one gulp and set my cup down on the counter. I pressed myself into Max’s chest, standing on my tiptoes so I could wrap my arms around his neck. I pressed a kiss against his lips, both our mouths cold from the wine. My tongue parted his lips and slipped in his mouth, and I smiled against him as he groaned.
“I think it’s time we christened the house, don’t you think?” I asked as my hand trailed down his chest to the waist of his pants.
“We can count it as christening the kitchen because I plan on taking you in every single room of this house,” Max replied.
Ihurriedly unfastened my overalls and pushed them down to the floor. There was a fever in me that only Max could ease. Max tugged his shirt off and I couldn’t help the way my eyes tracked his every movement. God, this man was sexy. He had a small sprinkling of dark hair below his belly button that made my stomach do flips.
Ilooped my fingers in his waistband and tugged him toward me. My kisses were frenzied, and my hands moved everywhere. Max reached between us to unbutton his pants and stepped away slightly to kick them off. The sight of him, even underneath the fabric of his black briefs, had me swallowing deeply.
Maxscooped me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His mouth was on mine, matching my energy, as he pushed us against the counter.
“Please,” I said, “I need you inside me.”
Hereached in between us to pull himself out and pressed himself against my entrance. I shifted my hips so I could slide down on him. My hips stilled as I adjusted to the feel of him between my legs, my breath finally releasing.
Maxheld my hips as he pulled me back only to bring me back down. This wasn’t slow or sweet. This was frenzied and full of emotions. All the anxiety I’d held onto about Max, about us, was unraveling with every thrust. I pressed my mouth against his and tangled my fingers in his hair. I wanted to be closer, closer.
Maxleaned me against the counter so he could release one hand from my hip. He brought his fingers in between us and pressed firmly against my clit, rubbing in small circles with two fingers. With one roll of his hips, he hit the spot he knew would bring me over the edge. I shivered as my orgasm flowed through me, Max never releasing his hold.
AsI came down, Max increased his pace. His fingers dug into the flesh of my hips as he pushed himself inside me over and over. Sweat dripped down my lower back and Max moved furiously between us. I clenched around him and felt a low hum leave his chest as he found his own release.
Hestayed inside me and leaned his forehead against mine as his breathing evened out. I placed light kisses against his jawline and ran my palm over his cheek.
“I think that I might love you, MaxKingsley,” I whispered.
Ifelt the grin before I actually saw it. Max leaned his head back and looked into my eyes.
“You say that now, with me buried inside you?” he asked teasingly.
“Oh my god, it’s not just because of that!” I said, pushing myself away from him. ButMax held on tighter, pulling me close. He kissed along my neck, up my chin, and finally found my lips.
“Iknow that I love you, IsabellaEsposito,” he said. I felt him stirring inside me, his cock twitching.
Igrinned and narrowed my eyes as I shifted my hips, grinding myself against him.
“Fuck, baby, you really are going to be the death of me,” Max said. But he only put his arms back around me and walked us into the living room. I was thankful the cleaning crew hadn’t wiped down the windows; we could use all the grimy privacy we could get.
Maxsat me down on my feet and slipped out of me. Within seconds he fanned out a clean drop cloth on the living floor, scooped me back up, laid me down, and settled himself in between my legs.
“I never want to leave this spot,” he said as he pushed himself back in.
Hishands found my breasts and palmed them through the thin layer of my bralette. My nipples hardened at the touch, and I arched into him. This time was slower, and more intentional. Max’s eyes scanned my face and my body as he gently pushed himself inside me.
Hisfingers were slow as they danced over my clit, his tongue lazy as it explored my mouth and my neck. Max tugged the material of my bralette down and sighed as my breasts spilled out over the edge. His warm mouth was on them in an instant.
Mysecond orgasm started slowly with a tingling in my toes and a tightness in my legs. Max didn’t let up on the pressure on my clit or the tugging on my nipples as I moaned into him. I squeezed around him in waves as the pleasure rolled through me.
“God, you feel so good as you come around me, baby,” Max said. “Let me feel you squeeze me.”
Maxfucked me through the aftershocks, my soft screams filling the air of my empty living room. My chest was hot and my breath ragged as he found his release again, spilling inside me. He gave himself a minute before pulling out and lying back on the drop cloth next to me, his large hand thrown over his heaving chest.
“It’s going to take us three times as long to get through the demo if we keep taking breaks like this,” Max said.
Ilaughed and covered my face with my hands. “I couldn’t help it. You don’t know what you look like in those pants with a sledgehammer,” I replied.
“Oh, a working man, what does it mean for MissIsabella?” he asked. “Noted,” he said, tapping his temple.
Maxgot up to grab tissues from the bathroom and handed me a water bottle. I gratefully accepted and chugged most of it. Dust and drywall clung to my hair, and I desperately wanted a hot shower. I also wanted Max to come back with me to my parents’ and join me in the shower. I don’t know what had gotten into me.
Perhapsadmitting my anxieties to someone who wouldn’t judge me freed something in me. Maybe hearing that Max was here for everything on my to-do list and actually believed we’d make it happen allowed me to finally let my guard down.
Whateverit was, I was crossing my fingers that this feeling wouldn’t go away.