by Lily Foster
It’s not like I ever felt inferior to those girls back then but there was a clear line drawn in the sand. They were of a different world. I was by no means poor but my parents were old fashioned. It wouldn’t have mattered if they’d had several million in the bank—I was not dropping Benjamins at Prada like those girls did without a second thought.
Dylan walked in with Justin then, sweat soaking through the t-shirt that clung to him. I snuck a glance over to Melanie; of course she was staring at him. He beamed when he saw me, “What a nice surprise.” He held out his hand and gestured towards the stairs with his head. “Come on.”
I pushed off the couch, barely able to contain the smile that spread across my face. As I made my way towards him Melanie practically purred, “Dylan, are CeeCee and Lucy coming…to the party?”
I heard Christian’s whispered snap, “You’re being a bitch, Melanie.”
Dylan ignored her and took my hand as he led me upstairs. He sounded a little uneasy as he asked, “Do you know what that was about?”
“I think Melanie’s trying to mess with my head.”
When we got to his room he stripped out of his sweaty clothes as I sat on the bed and just watched. His body…my God, it was perfection. My tongue instinctively licked my upper lip and I could feel the tingling heat between my legs. Dylan looked far away, though. “I’ll be right out,” he said as he grabbed a towel and left for the bathroom. Melanie’s snarky comment had obviously made Dylan uncomfortable and now I was running those names over and over in my head.
He smiled as he came back in, the towel wrapped low on his hips. The visual made it hard to concentrate but really, I was no longer interested in a romp. “Dylan, what’s this party going to be like?”
He looked to the ceiling as he let out a breath and then looked at me. “What did Melanie say?”
“Nothing, really. I think she’s trying to make me feel like you’ll be in your element there and I…I won’t fit in. Not that I care, Dylan, I don’t. I just want to know that if I do come I won’t be subjected to a bunch of stuck-up debutantes trying to seduce you in front of me.”
“What’s going on in that head of yours, Kasia Mazur?” he smiled as he whipped off his towel and bounced onto the bed hovering over at me. “I loathe stuck-up debutantes. Kocham tylko ciebie.”
He butchered the pronunciation but hearing that he loved only me, well, it had me melting underneath him into his touch. “You speak Polish now?”
He looked at me sweetly. “I look up corny stuff to say sometimes. I like when I hear you slip a word in here and there. It’s sexy.”
“Polish? French is sexy. Italian is sexy. Polish is not the most melodic language, Dylan.”
He laid soft kisses on me in between words as he got me out of my clothes. “When you speak Polish, Kasia, it sounds like a fucking string quartet with a choir of angels singing back-up.”
Afterwards, I was lying beside him, his hand caressing my hip. “It’s Sunday, Kasia. We’re leaving school Tuesday. Did you speak to them yet?”
“I’m coming, Dylan.”
He lifted my chin up and smiled broadly. He didn’t ever give me a reason to doubt his feelings for me. “You’re not fucking with me are you, Kasia?”
“I said I’m coming!” I pushed at his chest. “I had to lie, Dylan, and I hate lying. I said I was meeting your family.”
“So what? Good cover.”
“It’s more than that. My parents…they expect me to bring you home, to get—”
“—their approval. I get it, Kasia. Just wondering…do you think they would approve of me? The way you describe your dad…and Mike, Alex, and Tom…they sound like this big brick wall that will want to keep me away from you.”
“No, they’ll love you, Dylan.” As I said it I didn’t really believe it. “It’s just that you’re different from what they’re used to.”
“Different from Patryk?”
“Yes.”
Just the fact that Dylan automatically referred to my brothers by their American monikers, not as Michal, Aleksander, and Tomasz, separated him from my world. I was trying to envision Dylan in my rowdy house on Thanksgiving with Polish being spoken loudly in every room and shots of vodka being passed—okay, I could see him being into that part—but overall, I think he would feel more at home on Mars. And I was thinking about how my family would react. My parents were gracious; they would make him feel at home. But would my father be put off by his obvious wealth? I could already envision him staring out at Dylan’s beamer parked on the curb, slightly disgusted; he would be thinking that was a car for pretty boys who didn’t know how to put in a hard day’s work. Granted, my brothers were made up of one lawyer, one investment banker, and one very sought-after landscape architect. Although, Alex, the landscaper, was the only one who actually made a living working with his hands, the other two were no strangers to hard, manual labor. My father’s investment properties were often in need of repair and my brothers had been helping out since they were in grade school. I doubted that Dylan, by comparison, had ever had been called upon to change his own light bulb.
I cringed, “You’re going to have to come at Christmas, Dylan. It would be taken as an insult, as disrespectful, if you didn’t.”
He looked less than thrilled. “I’ll be there.” He pulled me to lay on top of him then and looked at me lovingly as he caressed my bum. “I’ll do anything to be with you, Kasia.”
It was Wednesday and Dylan and his friend, Ben, were running around getting everything ready. As I walked the main street of New Canaan, my thoughts drifted back to last night, sighing contentedly. It was just Dylan and I home alone together. He “cooked” dinner for us, giant bowls of sugary cereal that we ate in our underwear, perched on the edge of his hot tub. We talked for hours and then slept curled up together in his childhood bed. It was heaven.
When a woman who resembled my mother ambled by me on the sidewalk, though, my thoughts shifted back to my family. I felt a little guilty. I knew my brothers would by stopping by just about now, helping my mom here and there, moving tables for my dad, then all congregating in the kitchen. I would be missed.
I popped into an upscale gourmet shop and got a few jars of some fig preserve that I knew my mom loved to spread on crackers with goat cheese. I also picked up some pretty linen napkins that were outrageously expensive but were really special. I inherited my fascination with fabric, patterns, and textures from her. Mother would like them.
As I drove down the long driveway leading back to Dylan’s house, I got a chance to take it all in again. This looked like something out of Town and Country. The house was enormous, considering only three people lived here. The grounds were so beautifully landscaped that I was tempted to snap a picture for Alex. The garage door opened automatically as it detected a recognized vehicle approaching. The inside of the garage revealed, in addition to the brand-spanking-new Land Rover I was driving, no less than three other shiny vehicles that would suit any need—sporty convertible, stately sedan, and a pick-up truck for those days the family was feeling outdoorsy. My brothers would gag at the shiny, unscuffed finish on the pick-up.
Dylan and Ben pulled up beside me as I sat parked in the car, gawking. As I lowered my window in response to his gesture, he asked, “What are you doing, pretty girl?”
I shook my head. “Your house is huge,” I said absently. “You could fit like, five of my houses into this one.”
Ben cracked up. “I’m with you, Kasia. This is downright ostentatious…flashy, dare I say.” He was baiting Dylan with the uppity accent.
“Bite me,” Dylan smirked. “Come on, Kasia, time to get to work.”
I liked Ben. He was silly and immediately felt like an old friend. I was glad I’d have at least one person to hang out with tonight. “Are you making me move furniture, Dylan?”
He slapped my ass playfully as I got out of the car. “No, we’ll do the heavy work. You are in charge of moving anything you think looks breakable. We’ll lock those
things in a room off to the side.” Sounded easy but there had to be over a hundred fragile, pricey-looking kick-knacks to remove before it met with Dylan’s approval.
Ben took off then and Dylan led me upstairs to get ready. He followed me into his en-suite bathroom and stripped down as I was stepping into his shower, which, by the way, looked like something you’d find in a five-star resort, with multiple jets, a marble bench, and a full glass enclosure. I smiled as he stood close behind me and ran his hands softly over my breasts, down to my hips and then pulled me in closer to him as spoke close to my ear, his voice carrying his raw emotions, “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined having you here, Kasia.”
I teased, “Having me visit you at home, you mean?”
He chuckled low, “Yeah, having you visit.” He pushed into me harder. “But I’ve specifically imagined you right here, Kasia…your hands braced against the tiles, water dripping down your tight body as I fuck you, hard, from behind.” He moved his hand between my legs. “You want that too, Kasia, I can feel it.”
I was wet and swollen with need just from his words. The oxygen I was breathing in was making my lungs tingle and my head swim. I moved my hands up and placed them against the shower wall as I pushed my bottom back towards him. I looked over my shoulder at him, barely able to keep my eyelids open. I was lost.
“That’s it, Kasia. Feel how hard you make me?” He kept fucking me with his fingers as he rubbed his length against the seam of my bottom. He rolled on a condom and eased into me slowly at first and then grasped my hips as he started to grind into me. He moved his head close to mine. “I wish you could see this, Kasia. I wish you could see how hot you are, how beautiful your ass looks bent over for me, how your tits bounce as I fuck you.”
No one had ever spoken dirty to me before and I was surprised by how much it turned me on. I had certainly never uttered words like that to Patryk; I think he would have collapsed from heart failure if I ever did. Dylan, though, made me feel like a sexual, sensual being. It emboldened me. “Fuck me harder, Dylan. It feels so good. You’re all the way inside of me.”
“Fuck, yeah.” My words sent him over the edge. I had to brace myself as he grasped my hips hard and pounded into me, over and over. It was mind-blowing. A feeling was coming over me that wracked my entire body. Dylan held me up as I gasped his name and a moment later her roared as his release surged into me. His breathing was ragged as he held me close to him, his body bent over mine. After a minute he pulled me up as he stood straight and turned me around to face him. “Kasia, that…,” he shook his head, “You’re wrecking me, baby. That was the best sex of my life.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deep before I agreed, “Me too.” I laughed as I said, “I don’t think I’ve ever said a word during sex before. I felt embarrassed at first but…I like when you talk to me that way.”
“Please don’t ever stop, Kasia. Hearing your voice drove me fucking wild.” He then set about washing my hair gently and soaping every inch of my body. He turned me to face him again. “You are perfect for me in every way, Kasia. Do you know that?”
I smiled back at him. “You don’t know the whole me yet, Dylan. I’m a package deal and you haven’t met the Mazurs yet.”
He took my face in his hands. “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’re missing being at home right now.”
“I’m ok.”
“I’ll make it up to you at Christmas, I promise.”
I was looking forward to that and dreading it at the same time.
Dylan kept me close and held my hand for the first hour of the party. He must have introduced me to fifty different people and I didn’t remember one name. Everyone was nice enough but I did feel that I was crashing a party of long lost pals and I was on the outside. I wasn’t one to wallow, though, so I mingled as best I could. As the party filled up even more—was his entire graduating class here?—I gave up and plopped onto a sofa in the den as I nursed a beer. I didn’t want to be a drag on Dylan but the truth was I was not having a great time. I had already spoken to Christian, Melanie patently ignored me, probably psyched that I had no one to talk to, and Ben, last I saw, was sandwiched between two girls. I walked through the kitchen to see Dylan doing shots with a few guys and slipped past them wondering if anyone would notice if I snuck upstairs and went to sleep. Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Kasia?”
“Darcy? What are you doing here?” I’m sure I looked and sounded like a nomad who’d just found water in the middle of the dessert…she did too.
“Oh my God! I cannot believe it’s you! My boyfriend, Tom, is good friends with the guy who lives here, Dylan.”
“Get out! Dylan talks about Tom all the time.”
She nodded with a broad, knowing smile on her face. “So you’re dating Dylan. Tom is absolutely dying to meet you. He can’t believe Dylan has actually fallen for a girl. Also, Ben rode to the party with us tonight and said, I quote, ‘Dylan is whipped and… She. Is. Hot.’”
Darcy mixed up two vodka cranberries and we snuck back to the den where we sat and talked for nearly half an hour non-stop. Darcy was a good friend to me in high school. She was as well-off as everyone else at our posh prep school but she was totally down to earth. Darcy was just one of those truly good people who liked you for who you were, not for what you were worth.
Dylan came over then and sat on the arm of the couch next to me. “You ok, Kasia? I feel bad I’m not by your side.”
“I’m fine, Dylan, I don’t need a babysitter! Anyway, I found a long-lost friend of my own. Darcy Donovan, this is my boyfriend, Dylan Cole.”
“Nice to meet you, Darcy. Long-lost friend? From where?”
Darcy answered, “We went to high school together. Kasia was like the coolest, most talented girl I’d ever met.”
“That’s how I’d describe her,” Dylan said as he leaned in and kissed my temple.
“I feel like I already know you, Dylan. Tom talks about you non-stop.”
Dylan’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, you’re the Darcy! This night’s getting better and better. Where is he?”
“He went to get me a beer a long time ago and I lost him. It’s packed, Dylan. You must have been Joe Popular in high school.”
“More like the only schmuck who’d let this many people into their house.”
With that, a borderline-distraught, mighty tasty looking guy came over towards us. “What the hell, Darcy? I’ve been looking all over for you!”
Darcy crooned, “Oh, you were worried?”
Then Dylan bounced up off the couch, hugged his friend, made introductions and we all fell into easy conversation. The boys went back to mingling then; I’m sure they were relieved that we had each other to talk to. Darcy and I hung out in the kitchen, had a few more drinks and caught each other up on everything that had been going on in our lives. “I am so happy we saw each other tonight, Darcy. You don’t know how many times you’ve crossed my mind the past couple of years.”
“I feel the same. Just think, maybe next year we’ll all be in New York together. Wouldn’t that be great?”
Melanie slithered over then. “Who’s your friend, Kasia?” I’m sure if Darcy was a plain-looking girl, Melanie would have been content to keep ignoring me but Darcy was close to otherworldly, always had been. Darcy drew everyone’s attention.
“Melanie, this is Darcy.” I’m sure Darcy caught my tone because she didn’t reciprocate Melanie’s overly enthusiastic greeting.
“Darcy, you’re Tom’s girlfriend, right? We all adore Tom. Half of the girls here probably want to kill you,” she laughed. “The other half wants to kill Kasia.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “You New Canaan girls are a violent bunch, huh?”
Melanie kept at it, trying to make a new friend. “Are you spending Thanksgiving with Tom’s family, Darcy?”
“Nope, heading home tomorrow and then Tom’s spending the tail end of the weekend with my family.”
“Nice,” she chirped. “Is Dy
lan coming to your house over the break, Kasia?”
She hit the bulls-eye she was aiming for. I forced a smile. “Not this time.”
She feigned the “I never would have said anything if I’d known” look and nodded knowingly. “Oh.”
When she walked away after fawning a goodbye and—gag—a promise to meet up with Darcy the next time she was at Tom’s, Darcy whispered, “Now that is a Class-A bitch.”
“You have no idea, Darcy. She’s like Brooke Carter and Samantha Paulson rolled into one.” Darcy winced at the mention of the two nastiest, most stuck-up girls from our graduating class.
“Do you have to see her often?”
“She dates one of Dylan’s frat brothers, so the answer is yes. And I think she has a thing for Dylan. She creeps me out.”
“I have one of those to deal with too, Kasia. It’s not fun.”
Before Tom and Darcy headed home they convinced me to take the ride back to New York with them instead of the car Dylan was arranging for me. I hugged my friend, so thankful to have reconnected with her tonight, and I hugged Tom. I liked him immediately for the way he treated Darcy; it was obvious that he adored her.
Dylan didn’t stir when I dragged his limbs off me as the alarm blared. I’d gone up to bed at around two but the party raged on until I heard the last stragglers slurring out their goodbyes at like five. I showered quickly and blew dry my hair. Nothing was waking Dylan; he smelled like a gin mill. I poked him before I left the room. “Happy Thanksgiving, Dylan. I’m leaving.”
“Okay,” he mumbled. Nice.
The house looked like a disaster and my boots made a sound as they stuck and unstuck from the dirty floor with each step I took. I was worried for Dylan’s sake; I didn’t see how his parents could be ok with this. I had just started picking up plastic cups when the horn sounded.
“Kasia…you survived!” Tom beamed. He was a morning person for certain.
