When I Let You Go (Let Me Book 6)

by Lily Foster

  “That a rotten perspective to take.”

  “Veronica, I had friends, real friends, but I also had my share of bootlickers...People who’d laugh when my jokes weren’t funny, people who were just along for the ride. It makes you guarded. In my case, it made me…I don’t know, maybe a little mean spirited.”

  “And I bet you loved Kasia because she didn’t care about your money.”

  “Not only did she not care about my name or my money,” he smiled, waving a hand towards what was likely a fraction of his vast art collection, “it’s like she found me and my whole situation repulsive.”

  I totally got that and smiled back at him, thinking of my cousin. “I hated guys like you when I was in high school.”

  “Why?”

  I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I guess I did need to spell this out for Little Lord Fauntleroy. “You have to understand what it’s like. Families like ours, new to the country and speaking a foreign language…We’re different. Our parents are viewed as second class citizens sometimes and it riles you up. As a child you view them from inside the bubble of your little world…You love them, you’re proud of your parents. Then you grow up and see that in the world outside of the bubble, they get treated like they’re ignorant because they aren’t fluent in English, because they work menial jobs, because they take public transportation, because they have to ask questions about things that are second nature to people born in this country.”

  “I get it,” Dylan said, but he so did not get it.

  I shook my head with vehemence, that feeling of being on the outside running through my veins like it used to. “My parents and others like them dream of better for their children. So with good intentions they thrust us into the upwardly mobile stratosphere of prep schools, violin lessons, tennis academies…All that crap. And you come to want that life and hate it at the same time, because those kids at school? They look at you the same way the uppity shopkeeper looked at your mother…You’re a gatecrasher, a wannabe. And you come to despise those people.”

  He reached over and put his hand on top of mine. “Does it still hurt you so much?”

  “I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up.”

  “A scholarship kid…Like Kasia.”

  I nodded but I wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Dylan, that’s not the big, defining experience that shaped me. If it was just a class warfare thing I don’t think I’d be so screwed up.” I could feel the heaviness coming over me, the feeling of shame like a weight on my back. “I could never even have friends growing up. I only had Olivia. No one could come to my house after school because my father was…unpredictable, and he was so controlling that I basically wasn’t allowed to go anywhere. So at school I was an outsider and at home I was isolated.”

  “He sounds like—”

  “An asshole? He is.”

  I didn’t mean to lump them together because I didn’t think my father was half the person Dylan was, but I couldn’t help myself. “He cheats on my mother…Such a pig he makes no effort to hide it.”

  Dylan’s look was pleading. “I don’t see myself as a monster, Veronica. And I don’t want to do that to another person ever again…I won’t.” He shook his head, defeated. “But if you want to stop this right now, I get it.”

  “You’re not like him, Dylan. But I am curious…If you loved Kasia so much, then why were you even tempted?”

  “I can only chalk it up to being young, incredibly stupid, being high on drugs and definitely being drunk on power for the first time in my life.”

  “How did she find out?”

  He groaned. “Tomasz officially outed me, but I think deep down she knew.” He spooned food onto our plates and handed me a pair of those cheap wooden chopsticks. “I went into a tailspin after that. And Cecilia? She was collateral damage.”

  “You cheated on her right away?”

  He paused before answering. “I wouldn’t call it cheating in the beginning because she was in on it. And before we were married, she was part of my drug fueled, sex crazed youth. The party never stopped, you know?”

  “She condoned it?”

  “We didn’t have an open marriage or anything, but she was on board for a lot of, um, mischief.”

  “Can you be a little more specific?”

  He pushed his plate away and ran his hands through his hair. “Ask me.”

  “Threesomes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Foursomes?”

  He nodded. “We switched partners.”

  “Sex with men?”

  “No…Maybe crossed swords in the act a few times, but I’m hetero.”

  “Anal?”

  He cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. “Is that even considered out of bounds?” I think I made a sound that was half gasp, half squeak. Dylan smiled, nodding to himself as if he was taking notes on me. “Hmm.”

  “Did you ever sleep with one of her friends?”

  “Not when we were a couple, no. Cecilia did sleep with a good buddy of mine, though. Pretty sad, but I didn’t really even care that much.” He gestured to pour me more wine, but I shook my head. He poured a bit more for himself. “Keep going…You can ask me anything.”

  “I-I think that’s it.”

  He took a sip, studying me over the rim of his glass. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

  I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable. “Sure.”

  “Did you ever tell French or the priest that you loved them?”

  I nodded. “Just Larson. But I know now that I wasn’t in love with him…I was just grateful. When my father kicked me out, I didn’t even cry. I guess a part of me was glad to be away from him…But it was scary, you know? I don’t think I’ve ever really acknowledged how scared I was back then.”

  “Larson took care of you.”

  “He did...He saved me.” I looked at Dylan with a warning. “And he took me in out of kindness and with purely good intentions. I was the one that screwed that up.”

  “Why didn’t you go to your aunt and uncle instead?”

  “I was ten years old when everything happened between our families. I would hear my mother crying nearly every day after my father left for work, but she wouldn’t talk about it. At night I’d hear my father yelling at her, threatening her. Lots of talk about sinning and filthy faggots,” she added, gripping her water glass angrily. “We were never allowed in their home again. He changed our telephone number and my mother was too afraid to reach out to her sister.” Looking to Dylan, I added, “My father can be really intimidating.”

  “And this was all because of Alex coming out?”

  “That was his excuse, and my father is a hateful bigot, that’s for sure. But I think he envied my aunt and uncle’s success, and blamed them for not giving him the head’s up when good properties were available. He basically blamed someone else whenever he failed. And he’s a manipulative, abusive man. He needed to isolate my mother, make her dependent. He hated how much we loved our family, and in one fell swoop, he took them away. And over the years, maybe you start to believe all the lies. You never see them, they aren’t looking for you, so maybe you are “dead to them,” as my father loved to say.”

  Shaking his head, he said, “I just…Kasia wouldn’t have done that. I can’t imagine her giving up. She loved you and your sister so much.”

  “Do you know how hard it was for me to show up on their doorstep?” The shame I felt that day was strangling me right now as if I was back in the moment.

  “You must have been in a pretty bad place.”

  “Dire straits.” I tried and failed to crack a smile. “I told Larson I had a place to stay when I left, but that wasn’t really true. I have one friend in the world, Nell, and after a year of couch surfing on and off at her place I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t concentrate in class, so I lost my scholarship. I was working two or three shitty jobs at a time, barely making enough to eat. I was just so…tired.”

  Dylan led me over to the couch. He
guided me down next to him so that my back was resting on his chest. He kissed my head and wrapped his arms around me. Words cannot describe how good that one simple gesture made me feel.

  “It was a Sunday of all days, so you can imagine the scene at the Mazurs.”

  “Half the neighborhood was there, right?” I could feel the smile in his words.

  “Just about.” Chuck hopped up into my lap then, nuzzling into me, and I was so glad for it. “The entire room fell silent when my uncle opened the door. Seeing them all for the first time in so long…Seeing Kasia holding Milo,” I stopped, unable to hold back my tears. Dylan held me closer as I shook with sobs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you all this…I know this must hurt you too.”

  “Shhh,” he whispered, holding me closer. “It’s ok, baby.”

  “It overwhelmed me. There were so many children there and I didn’t know one of them. Years had gone by…So many years.”

  “They must have been so happy to see you.”

  “They were, no questions asked.”

  “Figured that.”

  “Jake took the kids home and Kasia and I stayed up that entire night, talking and crying. She told me they tried to reach out so many times, but my mother wouldn’t disobey my father. Kasia’s parents believed at a certain point they were putting my mother in danger by pushing it. And I also know my aunt and uncle were hurt. My mother never apologized for my father, and she agreed with him on some things. Kasia told me my mother started spewing her own toned-down version of gay-bashing, so eventually they wrote my parents off.” Using Dylan’s words, I added, “Me and Olivia were collateral damage.”

  I wanted her to spend the night but I didn’t offer. Tonight was a lot. After all that heavy soul searching, I wasn’t sure that jumping into bed with Veronica was a great idea. Couldn’t get a read on what she wanted either.

  She let out a big yawn after telling me about her reunion with Kasia and the rest of the Mazurs, laughing when she remarked that telling the truth takes a lot out of you. I felt the same. What she probably long suspected about me she now knew as truth. What would she do with all that?

  I wanted to reassure her that I didn’t need any of that bullshit anymore, didn’t want that kind of life—and that was the truth. But saying things like, “If I never see the inside of a sex club again it will be too soon,” probably wouldn’t go over big.

  So instead of taking her to bed, I took Veronica and Chuck back to her place, gave her a chaste kiss, listened for the lock to click behind me, and then made the lonely drive back across town. I knew it was the right thing to do, but it sucked nonetheless.

  Tomorrow I was heading out of town, and the realization of how much I was going to miss Veronica struck me suddenly. When her name flashed on my phone screen, I sent up a silent prayer that she was feeling this thing between us as much as I was.

  “Hey, can’t sleep?”

  “My furry little monster is convinced that this bed is actually his. He just curled up next to me and his butt’s practically in my face.”

  “You’re spoiling him.”

  “Probably.” She paused and sighed. “But I didn’t really want to sleep alone tonight.”

  I turned over onto my back and began stroking myself gently, my dick painfully hard at just the thought of her lying in bed—even with the damn dog. “I wanted you to stay but I didn’t know…”

  “Yeah,” she said on a breathy exhale. “It was better that I didn’t stay…But now…”

  “Now you miss me?”

  “I do.”

  “So everything you know about me?”

  “Scares me and…turns me on.”

  Fuck, was that good or bad? “I’m not the same person, Veronica. I don’t want that life. I’d never share you, never let another man touch you. I couldn’t.” Just the thought of anyone but me touching her sent a rush of pure rage through me.

  “I don’t want another man touching me, Dylan.” She let out a soft, breathy gasp. “Just you.”

  “You’re touching yourself now.”

  “I…Yeah, I am.”

  “If I was there, baby…”

  “Tell me what you’d do to me.”

  “Really? You want me to tell you?”

  “Um…Yeah.”

  Her breathing was audible now and my cock was rock hard.

  “Tonight I’d take my time. And first you’re gonna strip for me. I’m sitting back on the bed, stroking my cock while you take off each piece of clothing, nice and slow. I love your tits, Veronica, and as you take off that bra all I can think about is sinking my dick between them, fucking those tits. They’re mine. But you’re naked now and I can’t wait to get a taste of that sweet little pussy.” She’s panting now. “Come over up here on the bed and kneel, baby, sit right on my face. My tongue’s on you now and my hands are full, grabbing onto that ass. You’re trying to move but I’ve got you pinned to me, licking and biting that sweet thing.”

  “Tell me, uh, more,” she begs. I can picture her back arching off the bed right now. “How h-hard are you right now?”

  “So hard I’m gonna break you in half when I fuck you.” My hands shake opening the lube from my nightstand drawer, and as my hand makes contact, I nearly blow. “I’m turning you over now, fucking you on all fours, that beautiful ass sticking up right in my face, Veronica. I’m in so fucking deep.”

  She can barely utter the words coherently when she chants, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” I can picture her, thrusting her fingers in and out. Then she lets out a soft moan and I know she’s gone. I’m grunting now, my hand exerting so much pressure, imagining the tight grip she had on me the other night, but tonight I’m imagining us skin on skin. Just the thought of that has me blowing my load faster than a fourteen-year-old.

  After a few moments with the two of us just breathing, my sweet girl giggles. Maybe she’s never done this before?

  “Guess the cat’s out of the bag…Now you know I like phone sex.”

  There goes that theory.

  “Just so you know, lady, I prefer live, in-person sex.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “But that was pretty hot. I just had to ignore the image of Chuck in the bed with you.”

  “Yeah, I think I’m going to have to rethink this whole sleeping arrangement thing before he gets too set in his ways.”

  “Yep, that’s my side of the bed.” She doesn’t say anything for a moment, but it’s a moment too long for me. I don’t make a habit of wasting my time, and I don’t waffle. I know what I want. Pretty simple from where I stand, she either wants the same or she doesn’t. If she doesn’t, it would hurt like hell, but I’d move on. “Veronica, I want to do this. I want you in every way, every part of my life.” I let out a frustrated breath. “Tell me right now…Do you want this too?”

  “I want you.” Her voice sounded serene and sated. “I do.”

  I breathed out a sigh of relief. “I’m crazy about you.”

  “You are?” she asked, sounding as light and playful as a child.

  “You know I am.” To myself, I added out loud, “I’m literally dreading this trip.”

  “You’re going away?”

  “That’s one thing that sucks about my life…I’m always going away. At least this is a short one…Two days in L.A.”

  I liked the disappointment in her voice when she asked, “What time’s your flight?”

  “Not until late afternoon.”

  “Can you get into the office a little late tomorrow morning?”

  “You mean roll in at ten, like I’m a florist?”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Because I’m lying here naked, I’m wet again, and I want your cock so badly that I ache.”

  Pumping in and out of Veronica leisurely as the sun peeked through a slit in her bedroom curtains, I realized my dick hadn’t been this happy in years. Correction: me and my dick. And feeling her reach between her legs and touch
herself as I fucked her, it turned me on like nothing else. This girl was the real thing. Being with her was just so good.

  Last night, laying side by side after we both came hard, literally looking into each other’s eyes in that very moment, I had this pressing urge to remember every detail. Like when you’re a kid and you wake up from a really great dream. It’s so good that you struggle to hold onto it. It’s a desperate feeling, because you know the memory is going to slip away but you really, really don’t want to forget. I felt similarly high in that moment last night and wanted to hold onto to every second of it. Last night I knew I was with the real Veronica, not the distant, shipwrecked version of the girl.

  I was in love with her.

  “Don’t go,” she whispered, backing her ass up even closer as she led my free hand down between her legs. “This feels too good.”

  Going harder, feeling that tingling down to my toes that told me I was close, I leaned in and pinched her gently down there. “Never fucking you with a condom again, got that?”

  She let out a garbled cry that was a mixture of my name and what might have been a Gregorian chant it went on for so long, the both of us coming down from it a full few minutes later.

  “Holy hell.”

  “Oxymoron.”

  “You’re a moron,” she said, laughing as she walloped me in the face with her pillow.

  I wrestled the pillow from her and then wrestled her until I let her win. She sat on top of me, triumphant, my hands pinned on either side of my head.

  “Nice view. Maybe I will stick around.” We were no match in strength. Sitting myself up, her legs slipped around my waist and I held her close, the feeling of our bare chests pressed together like nothing else on this earth. “I really don’t want to leave.”

  She tilted her head to the side and fixed me with a long, searing kiss. I could feel her slick center and her tight nipples pressed up against me. Would I ever stop wanting her like this?