Filthy Dirty Laundry Vol. 4

by Kailin Gow

  We get into the car and start the familiar drive to FDL's office headquarters. Johnson's driving quickly – his Cadillac is much faster and smoother a vehicle than my bicycle. I'm enjoying the wind in my hair and the breeze on my face when he rolls down the window. Then a car cuts in front of us, out of nowhere, and we have to suddenly brake, coming to an abrupt and painful stop that jerks me forward. I lung towards the windshield.

  “Are you okay?” Johnson's strong arms are around me, holding me back into my seat.

  “Yeah, I'm okay,” I say. “Everything's fine.”

  The feeling of his hand on me is arresting. His skin against mine. So comforting, so warm. And yet the feeling reminds me of how much we can no longer share, how much I can never tell him.

  “I'm so sorry about that,” Johnson says. “You were just starting to get better, and now I'm about to kill you in a car crash. I really am the worst,” he groans.

  “It's okay,” I try to laugh off his distress. “Not at all – you're the best Johnson, you know that.” Not that anything could take me off cloud nine, not even a car crash. Now that Philip's confessed his love for me, now that we've finally had sex – I'm just too happy to care. A hundred cars could run over me and I probably wouldn't even notice.

  “I just...hate seeing you hurt,” says Johnson grimly as we pull up in front of the FDL office parking lots.

  “Okay.”

  He's not just talking about a car, is he? I'm listening.

  “You've been through so much, Sidney. I mean, with your life – your whole childhood.”

  Shit, where are we going with this?

  “I can't stand to see you hurting. At all. Ever. And I just wish I could make it so that nobody ever hurts you ever again.”

  Okay, he's definitely not just talking about the car.

  “Thanks, Johnson,” I say slowly. I'm hoping against hope that he's not going where I think he's going with all of this. “I feel the same way about you.”

  “You do?” He brightens up. If he were a dog, his ears would have perked right about now.

  “I mean...I don't want anyone hurting you either.”

  “Sidney,” his hands are still around mine. “I care about you. So, so much. I've always have. Ever since we first met. I want to take care of you...”

  “You do, Johnson,” I say softly. “You always have. I mean – you're my best friend. A great mate. I don't know what I'd do without you – you made my college life bearable.” I'm hoping he gets the subtle friend hint, but his intense gaze suggests otherwise.

  He takes my hand and raises it to his lips.

  No no no no no no.

  “I love you, Sidney,” he says. “I always have. And I know that I always will.

  And with that, he leans in to kiss me on the lips. A passionate, powerful kiss – not a friendly peck but a full on Gone with the Wind movie star once-in-a-life-time kiss.

  I try to push him off me, to stop him, but it's too late.

  Through the rearview mirror I catch a glimpse of a familiar face.

  Philip.

  Shit.

  Chapter 3

  Immediately my mouth goes dry. My face goes numb. I can't believe this is happening. The one second that Johnson kisses me – the first time he's ever kissed me, in the whole years and years we've known each other, and my actual secret boyfriend is standing right there. Looking. Watching. Knowing exactly what I've done.

  Shit shit shit.

  I freeze up. A million and one things are going through my mind right now. I'm freaking out about Johnson enough as is: what he wants from me, what he thinks I can give him, what I know deep down I will never be able to give him. What he needs – or thinks he needs. How hurt he's going to be when he finds out that Philip and I are a couple – he can't ever find out. But I can't keep it a secret forever? How am I supposed to stay friends with Johnson while keeping my whole life from him – including the part where I'm desperately in love with someone else? Tell him – and I risk hurting him. Don't tell him – and I risk turning our whole friendship – our deep, close, meaningful, equitable friendship – into a total and utter lie.

  And now Philip is watching, too. Through the rearview mirror I can see his face. The expression as blank and pitiless as sunshine itself. A look of utter shock is supplanted by a look of equally sure fury.

  “Johnson...” I push him away. It hurts me to hurt him, but I have to do it. He can't kiss me. Especially not like this. Not right now. “I'm sorry...”

  But he's not even hearing me. He lets me push him away, but he's staring at me with the biggest and most puppy-dog-like of all the big puppy-dog eyes I have ever seen, and I have absolutely no idea how to handle this. Did I miss the day this lesson was taught in Girl School? The day we all learned how to deal with guys like Johnson – guys whom we cared about but didn't want to fuck? Was there some sort of secret, some sort of trick to it I'm just plain missing?

  “I'm sorry, Johnson.”

  “Listen to me, Sidney. I know you're surprised. It's too much to hope, isn't it, that you've been secretly thinking about me the way I've been thinking about you all these years. I know thinking about me in this way is a huge shock. But maybe, with time, when you turn this over in your mind, you'll realize...”

  “Johnson...” I say again through dry lips. But he isn't hearing a word of me.

  “I want to be more than just a friend to you, Sidney. I have to tell you that. Seeing you thrive in this way at FDL – this whole fake relationship or whatever's going on with Conway, whatever's happening with you and Philip...”

  “What do you mean, whatever's happening with me and Philip?” I ask nervously. Does he know something? Does he suspect?

  “I see the way he looks at you. And I know he's your boss, and that you might feel pressured to do what he wants, whatever he asks, because he has so much power over your career. And I know his reputation for womanizing – he's a playboy extraordinaire in his circle, and maybe his worldly ways and flirting might be too much to handle.”

  I want to laugh. Or cry. Maybe both. I'm almost offended. Too much for me to handle? I've been handling his worldly ways just fine, thank you very much.

  “If he lays a hand on you – so much as a hand – let me know, okay? You can always use me to keep him away from you, Sidney. Tell him I'm your boyfriend.”

  “What?”

  Okay, Johnson's always been a bit sappy, but this level of intensity – it's just too much. I can't handle it. I want to just curl up underneath the car seat and hide until he goes away. I love him so much, and I'm not going to deny that I'm attracted to him, a little, or that I find him handsome at the very least, but this, this?

  I mean...really?

  “Johnson,” I say firmly. “I'm fine. I wouldn't do that to you. And Phillip...he's not that bad. And you should probably not be talking about him right now.”

  “Why not? He's a self-obsessed, egotistic, rich, snobby...”

  “He's right outside our car door, Johnson.”

  Johnson swallows and gulps as he turns around. We see Philip outside the car on the passenger side, looking anything but amused. His eyes are dark with desire and anger. I'm going to have to be cleaning up a lot of messes today, apparently.

  “Heya, boss,” says Johnson sheepishly. “How's it going?”

  “Back late from your lunch hour I see,” Philip's voice is sharp and cold. I'm almost afraid of him. He has perfect self-control. Perfect chiseled cheekbones. He looks like he can hurt me – or possess me. Right here, right now, if he wanted to. And I'm not even sure I would be able to resist.

  Philip seizes hold of my wrist. So tightly it hurts. I wonder if he's left marks on me. The idea kind of turns me on.

  Then he looks up at Johnson and drops it.

  “Miss Stone,” he says softly. “You're looking peaky. AM I to take it that you're feeling a bit better?”

  “Yes...sir,” I say.

  “Good. You will be joining us for the rest of the day, I take it?�
��

  “I will.”

  It's so hard looking at him like this. Remembering the last time we were together – can it really have been only a couple of hours ago? Remembering the heat of his body on mine, the way he moved with me, the way he stoked my desire, the way he drove me insane...

  “Yes,” I mumble, turning bright red. Can he tell the effect he has on me now?

  “Good,” says Philip lightly. “Now, come with me to my office, Miss Stone. It's a very busy day for you. You see, I have a new assignment for you all ready. Better than that dog food story – or at least I think you'll find it so.”

  “Okay,” I say. I shoot a look at Johnson to see if he suspects anything. He's looking at me with such a beatific expression of love and devotion that it breaks my heart.

  He takes my hand. “I'll see you for dinner, then, OK?”

  “We're having dinner?”

  “There's this new place near my house I've been meaning to try. It has all your favorite foods. Perfect to cheer you up after you've been sick. And we can pick things up from there...”

  I feel so incredibly awkward right now. Can the floor just open up so I can sink right through?

  “Uh...sure,” I say to Johnson. “Sounds good.”

  Idiot idiot idiot.

  I'm going to have to let Johnson down sooner or later. But right now, I can't deal with any more drama in my life.

  Johnson walks off. I start to follow him into the office building, but a hand on the back of my neck stops me.

  “You're encouraging him, you know,” he says. His voice is harsh. Dangerous.

  “Look, Philip...”I pulled away. “I had no idea he was going to kiss me just then. He's never done it before and...”

  “You have no idea of the effect you have on men, do you,” he says, leading me into the building, into his office.

  “I don't know,” I say. “All I care is the effect I have on you.”

  The second the door is closed I fly into his arms. I pull him in for a kiss, using my hand to stroke the crotch of his jeans. I can feel that familiar bulge. I know he wants me as badly as I want him. I wrap my legs around him. I don't care how dangerous or unprofessional this is. I want Philip LaFleur and I want him now: right here in this office room. And I don't care about any of the consequences. My body is on fire. I need him again. Round two. Right on the desk.

  “Sidney,” he groans. He's looking at me with that familiar intensity I know so well and means that an orgasm isn't too far off. But he doesn't throw himself on me like he normally does. Instead, he's almost removed. “Let's be professional, Sidney,” he says.

  Professional? My mouth drops open. That's a word I've never heard before from Philip LaFleur.

  “We both can't afford to be caught here. As tempting as it is to take you right here, right now, I can't go through with it. I can't.” He looks away and I see the pain in his eyes, along with something like cruelty. Can it be? Does he really no longer want me anymore?

  “What are you talking about?” I stammer. “I mean – you, me – after we just...after everything we just...”

  Philip shakes his head. His jaw is clenched tight together.

  “Sidney...” he says.

  My voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “I thought you wanted this,” I say. “That we were together, now. That you loved me.”

  “Sidney, as much of a temptation as you are to me...” He sighs deeply. Inhales. Exhales. Stares at me with those piercing blue eyes I love so well. “I've been thinking. And I've been thinking about the practicalities of all of this. And.you were right.”

  “I was...right?”

  “Everything you said about the difficulties. The challenges. Kendall. My family. Your family. Us together at work. You were right. I'm sorry – I should have realized it sooner. But I was so intoxicated with thoughts of you, drunk with desire...I wasn't thinking clearly.”

  And now he's had me. He's been inside me. We've fucked. And the cloud has cleared. Typical man. Typical everything. Everything he says hits me like a ton of bricks.

  “Looking, realizing what the implications are of us being together like that – Kendall's so unstable as is, and I don't want to send her over the edge. Or ruin my father's happiness. Or your mother's. I will always care for you. You will always have a very special place in my heart, no matter whether we're lovers or...simply family. But for now, Sidney, I can't...” He looks away. “Just can’t.”

  And it hits me all at once. The pain. The anger.

  I'm not as devastated as I thought I would be. In fact, the main feeling surging through me right now is fury. How dare he? How dare he, I think. After leading me on, promising me love, promising me everything. He just saw me as a challenge. He just saw me as a pair of panties to get into. And I was stupid – so stupid. I fell for it. How could I not have seen it coming?

  All he wanted was to drop me like a hot potato and move onto the next girl, the next challenge, the next virgin he could deflower and brag about to his friends.

  I feel sick to my stomach.

  I want to cry, throw up, curl up into a little ball, scream, hit him, throw things. But I don't. I don't do anything. I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing he's won. I won't let him think he's had any impact on me whatsoever. He doesn't get that. Not now. Not after what he's done. So I hold my head high.

  “Fine,” I say. “Sounds good.”

  “What?” He looks surprised by this. Even hurt. The bastard.

  “You're right. Let's be professional about this. You and I – we had fun, but now that we've gotten the sex out of our systems there's no need to keep on acting like this was anything but a question of chemistry.”

  “But...”

  “You wanted to liberate me, Philip? You wanted to take the good little virgin and make her into a whore? Fine. Good. Great. Now I get the fun part.” I smile up at him. I don't let him see how hurt I am. “I get to go out and experience all that pleasure with anyone I please. And there's no need for me to commit to one man.” Or one cock. “You've taught me so much about pleasure – and pain. And I promise you, you'll always have a special place in my heart. When I'm fucking the next man, and the next, and the next...I'll remember. You were the one who taught me how to please a man. And I'll always be grateful for that. So so long, stepbrother.”

  And with that, I walk out of Philip LaFleur's office.

  Chapter 4

  The pain doesn't hit me until I'm out of the office. The overwhelming sensation that my heart is breaking in two. The anger got me through the initial encounter, like a fire that burns the skin and cauterizes the wound so you don't feel a thing. I didn't feel anything, then, except righteous indignation, except rage – against Philip, against the whole wide world. Against the world that made men studs and women sluts, that made us “challenges” instead of people, that made it so that we were just prizes to be won, holes to be filled, anything except human beings with our own thoughts, wants, needs.

  I should try to forget him, I think. Try to get over him. Try to forget he ever existed. There's a whole world of men out there, a whole world of physical sensations and sensual pleasure, a whole world of ecstasy I've only just started to explore. I could feel so much, be so much, experience so much, know so much. Other bodies, other torsos, other tongues – the whole world is wide open and waiting for me. I try to focus on that, shut out the pain. There's a whole world of pleasure: it is my oyster. Philip LaFleur isn't the only man in the world who can make me come. I tell myself that. Over and over I tell myself that. But somehow it doesn't stick. I'm still hurting – my body, my soul, all of me aches. He said he loved me. I had no idea people could lie like that.

  But I have to get over it. I tell myself it'll be good for me. Philip more than just messed with my hormones, he messed with my brain. My whole self. When I was with him I became so submissive, so easily led. I didn't make my own decisions. I just let him make them for me. I just let him decide who I was, what I was, where I worked, let him order
me around, let him stalk me, come to my house when I didn't want him to, take “care” of me in a possessive manner, get jealous of all my male friends – behavior I never, ever would have put up with if I weren't in such a damn sex haze all the time. Maybe this is a good thing. I used to be so free, after all. So independent. So confident. So sure that the decisions I made were the right ones. I didn't need a man. I didn't need anybody. I just kept on doing my thing, doing my job, being good at my job, focusing on the things that mattered. Career. Family. Friends. Not some douche billionaire with a dom streak that gets off on me saying “yes sir” and “no sir” in the office.

  I get through the rest of the day in the office, somehow. I work on writing up a few desk pieces – aggregated material from Gawker and TMZ that I'm “commenting” on. Not real reporting, but it keeps me busy and keeps me from thinking about how much pain I'm in. I don't know how I get through the day. Eyes on the prize, Sidney, I think. Focus on work, my obligations, the necessity of getting my paycheck and my health insurance and keeping this job, no matter what. But images of Philip keep cropping into my head. Images of Philip's hands on mine, his lips on me, his tongue, his cock...

  I need to push them out of my head. Luckily, my phone buzzes to distract me. It's Johnson, texting me to ask me if I want to meet for dinner. Right, he'd promised me a restaurant with all my favorite foods.

  God, Johnson. I'd half-forgotten about him amid all the chaos. I'd forgotten what he wanted from me: that he wanted to be with me, his confession of love. My heartbreak at Philip's hands had completely obliterated that particular moment. But now I remember.

  Maybe...I shake the thought away. Maybe I was too hasty dismissing Johnson. He loves me, after all. He needs me. He cares for me. He treats me well. He'd never sleep with me once and then hurt me the way Philip did. Maybe I'm overlooking a truly nice guy, a truly great person. Maybe I've been such an incredible fool....