Filthy Dirty Laundry Vol. 4

by Kailin Gow

  Sure, I text him. Dinner sounds great.

  He tells me to meet him by his car. I walk down and see him standing by it. His handsome face, his toned arms with the light blonde hairs downing them. He looks happy, confident, calm. A truly good person, I think. Not like Philip. No, he'd never hurt me the way Philip did...

  He opens the passenger door to let me in. I smile up at him. He's a thoughtful guy, I think. A guy who cares about women. “You know, Johnson,” I say when at last he gets into the driver's seat. “Your parents, they really raised you right. You're probably the last living gentleman in this city of angels.”

  Johnson chuckles and smiles. “no, I'm not,” he says. “Normally I'm a real dick. You just bring out something protective in me.”

  “You don't have to be that way,” I say. “I like you just the way you are, Johnson. Normal. Just how you are with everybody else.”

  “But you're not like everybody else to me, Sidney,” says Johnson.. “You never have been. And that's what I like so much about you, Sid You're not trying to be some socialite or some celebrity. You're not trying to be anybody except the person you are. Everyone else around here in this city...they look for conformity. They want to fit in. But you – you're different. You stand out and you like standing out. That's how you were able to get the scoop on that dog food story like nobody else could have done. Or your Conway story – you could have just proven that the girlfriend was fake. But you went deeper, found the story of this poor guy totally abused by the system, manipulated and framed by all the people around him. And even though I hated seeing you with him and having him call you his girlfriend, in the end, I realized what you were really doing. You were getting the story – the way nobody else could have done.” He brings his hand down to hold mine and squeezes it really tight.

  “I'm so sorry for overreacting about that,” says Johnson. “You didn't do anything wrong. I just – I'd been so worried about you, about the danger you were in, and then here you were being all lovey dovey with him and I just...snapped, I guess.”

  “I'm sorry,” I say. “I should have warned you. Or figured out how you felt sooner. I was just playing a role, that's all.”

  “I know that now,” says Johnson. “I should have known you'd never rush into something with a guy. I should have just trusted you and had faith in you – confidence that you knew what you were doing. But I have to admit...it was really hard. It made me really angry, and it shouldn't have.”

  “What is it?” I ask him.

  “That – whether or not it was role play – you were his. He had you as his,” Johnson says sadly. “This whole time, I've been wishing I could kiss you. This whole time I've been wanting you and this guy just comes in and asks...”

  “But you never asked, Johnson,” I say quietly.

  Maybe I should give Johnson a chance, I think. I care for him as a friend – so much so – but could I see him as more? I'd never thought about him that way. But now as I look at him I notice his handsome features, his chiseled cheekbones, his ripped muscles. He's always been caring, calm, sweet. But what if he were passionate? What would he look like in the throes of passion? Would he be confident and in control and sleek the way Philip was? Or would he be different? The thought of making love to Johnson turns me on, a little bit.

  But not as much as Philip...

  No, I think. I have to stop thinking about Philip. We broke up, that's it. We decided not to be together – well, he decided it. But he was a jerk. I have to stop wanting him. I have to stop needing him. I have to distract myself...

  I have to get him out of my mind. So I do the only thing I can think of doing. I place my arms around Johnson's shoulders and I pull him in for a kiss.

  It feels...good? Strange? Sweet? Hot? A mixture of all of the above, I think. No sooner do my lips touch his than Johnson groans and pulls me closer, his lips devouring mine, his tongue tasting mine so skillfully. His technique surprises me. I hadn't expected him to be as good a kisser as he is. His tongue is driving me wild, and I moan against him.

  He pulls me closer. His hand goes under my shirt and then I feel him fingering my nipples under my bra, stroking my hardened nipples with his thumb. My body is on fire once again. “Johnson...” I want him, at once, all of a sudden. My body's in adrenaline overdrive. “We're outside. We're in a parking lot...anyone could see...”

  “Sidney...” Johnson groans, pulling back. “I want you to know that men like Philip aren't the only fuckable guys in town. Maybe you like men who treat women like they're interchangeable fucks, but me – I did all that in college. In my frat. I got that out of my system ages ago. I'm interested in being with one woman, and showing her what pleasure can be. Using my experience to drive one woman crazy. And I want that one woman to be you.”

  “Oh Johnson,” I whisper. “This is so new...” We were buddies, friends, that's all. But now we're kissing. He's kissing me hard, running his tongue over mine, sucking on my lips, and I can't help but think of what his tongue would feel like between my legs. “We're such good friends.”

  “And I know that,” says Johnson. “That's why I never spoke up before now. I'm already in way too deep not to let you know how I feel, how I've always felt, about you.” He traces his tongue down my neck to the crevice between my breasts. “But would a friend do this, Sidney?” His eyes are half-shut.

  “No...” I sigh.

  “Then from now on,” says Johnson, pinching my nipple so hard I moan, “stop thinking of me as your friend. Because the things I want to do to you are things no friend ever would.”

  Chapter 5

  Johnson abruptly pulls back, reaching across me to open the door from the inside. “Force of habit,” he says, smiling. “But I promise you – that's the last time I'm ever a gentleman with you.” He smiles. “I want to be decidedly ungentlemanly with you. Speaking of which...I ordered lunch and dinner online so we could just pick it up. I thought maybe you'd want to eat somewhere more private.”

  I don't say anything as he drives me through the streets of LA. We stop near the restaurant.

  “Wait here,” says Johnson. He goes into the restaurant – a Thai place called Coriander that's way, way out of my price range – and reappears moments later with a bag. “Come on,” he says. “Something I've got to show you.”

  He leads me into a beautiful luxury building, filled with Stark furniture and beautifully minimalist architecture.

  “Where are we, Johnson?” I've never seen this place before. It's one of the most beautiful buildings I've ever been in. I feel almost embarrassed, like they're not going to let me in. Like I'm not remotely well-dressed or expensively-coiffed enough to be allowed in a place like this.

  “You'll see. I want to show you something.”

  “Not another new car?”

  “No,” Johnson smiles.

  I look around at the elevator, the hallway. It's not as nice as Philip's place, I have to admit, but its' still pretty bloody gorgeous. And I have to stop thinking about Philip LaFleur, anyhow.

  Johnson pulls me down the hall to a door. He puts a key in the lock and opens it to reveal a clean, minimalist, sleek apartment with stunning views of the water and the city.

  “You like it?”

  “Johnson, where are we?”

  “My new place.”

  “Your new...” I'm confused. “Johnson, you didn't tell me you moved!”

  “Just closed on it a few days ago. My first house. The first one I own, I mean.” The view of the Santa Monica Pier and the ocean is breathtaking. I almost gasp.

  “You never said...”

  “We've both been so busy,” says Johnson. “And I want to surprise you with the view.”

  “It's beautiful!” I sigh. I look out at the setting sun.

  “So are you, Sidney,” Johnson says, coming up behind me. His jeans brush up against my ass and I can feel his hard cock pushing against me. His arms go around my waist, holding me against him. He nuzzles his mouth into the crook of my neck, kis
sing me, biting me lightly. 'You smell delicious,” he says, making his way down my neck.

  Before I know it, his hands are underneath my shirt, underneath my bra, running up and down my nipples with his skilled fingers. Through his jeans I can feel his hardness, and the feeling makes me wet, awakens my desire.

  He turns me around to face him. With one hand, he whips off my shirt, then unhooks my bra. It's all happening so fast – too fast. But I don't say no. I don't say anything. I just give myself over to pleasure – and to the need to forget...

  His mouth takes in my breasts while his hands delve beneath my panties. He starts to finger me with skilled, perfect movements, and I can't help it, I start to moan out his name. He works me through until I'm breathless, panting with desire and need. Then he picks me up and carries me into the bedroom, laying me down before he tugs my panties down.

  “I'm so hungry,” he says. His voice is deep with his desire. “Oh Sidney, I've been dreaming of doing this to you for so long. I've been dreaming of making you moan like this.” He bends his head down and makes me cry out with pleasure. His hot mouth is all over me: devouring me, consuming me. With a smile he takes something from the bag of food. “Jasmine flower honey,” he says. “A specialty of theirs. The very best.” He pours a little on my stomach then starts to lick it off, making me writhe and laugh in equal measure. The pressure in my loins is mounting. I want him, need him, need this feeling, need release...

  And then I come, screaming.

  Like Philip LaFleur never existed. Like there's nobody in the world but Johnson and me. He can make me feel good, too. That's a revelation. He can make me come, just like Philip did. I don't need Philip, I think. I don't need anybody.

  Johnson kisses me gently on the mouth. “That was so much better than I ever dreamed it would be,” says Johnson. “And believe me, I've been dreaming about this for a while. How do you feel”

  I stretch out on the bed, still reeling from the force of my orgasm. “That was amazing, Johnson,” I say. “But this is all so...new. And strange. I can't believe it's you.”

  “Don't believe,” Johnson says sharply. “Stop thinking of me as your friend from school, Sid. Think of me as your lover, now. Someone who can make you scream like that. Think of me as a grown man who knows what he wants – and what he wants is you.” He lays down next to me in bed, tracing his fingertips over my belly, between my legs. “We should get back to work,” he says. “Or at least, I should. I have more posts to write. Philip works us both so hard...”

  I try not to flinch at the sound of Philip's name. I want to forget that ever happened. I want to forget all of it.

  “But I want more, Sid,” says Johnson, kissing my cheek. “I want to do that again...and again...and again. I haven't thought of you as a friend for a long time. And I want to start something with us.”

  “Johnson...” I try to gather my thoughts. “I'm not going to lie and say this isn't going to be...weird. Awkward. And...well, to be honest, I'm so surprised that I think this maybe hasn't sunk in yet...I mean, what just happened.”

  “Don't rush it,” Johnson says. “Don't think too much, Sidney. Just breathe. Just be.” He takes my arm and leads me back to the car to head back to the office.

  We don't speak in the car. We just...breathe. Exist next to each other. Take in what just happened – everything that just changed our world. I just hooked up with Johnson and it was...good. Great. Amazing. He made me come screaming his name. But was I really feeling something for him, or was I just on the rebound? Was I just looking for a physical sensation to drown out my deeper pain? I couldn't just be a hookup to Johnson, I know that. I would have to be with him. As his girlfriend. Was I ready to move on so soon?

  When we arrive back at the office, I spy Philip walking towards us. His face is unhappy, anguished, worried. His lips are white. He's glowering at us both. I try to swallow the pain and embarrassment I feel. We're colleagues now, nothing more. I won't make it awkward if he doesn't make it awkward.

  “Sidney,” he says, keeping his eyes downcast. “The way you left my office – I never got around to giving you a new assignment.” His voice is gruff and cold.

  Johnson takes a step towards me, his arm around my waist. Philip eyes him warily, with suspicion and anger.

  “I need to speak with you at once,” says Philip. He grabs my wrist tight. “Please come into my office for a meeting.”

  Shit, what now?

  I can't deal with him right now. I look at Johnson, hoping he'll be able to fix this somehow.

  “Okay...” I say. I grab my purse.

  “I'll drive you back tonight?” says Johnson, his eyes full of desire. “We never finished dinner. We have to have a proper housewarming.”

  “It's a beautiful place,” I say. “Imagine waking up to that view, every day.”

  “I'm sure you will,” says Johnson earnestly, gazing into my eyes.

  Then Philip yanks me away.

  “What did he mean by that?” he says, when he gets me into his office. He almost slams the door shut, then locks it.

  “Nothing,” I say angrily. “Not that it's any of your business.”

  “I'm sure you will – what's he talking about?”

  “He showed me his new place,” I say, putting my hands on my hips. “That's all.”

  He's staring at the corner of my mouth with a new intensity. Being near him hurts so bad, but my desire for him hasn't abated, not when he's staring at me like that. He looks at my lips, then, before I can stop him, licks something from the corner of my mouth.

  “Jasmine honey,” he says.

  “I had Thai for dinner.” I take a step back. He's definitely not allowed to do this to me, not after breaking up with me so suddenly.

  “You spilled it on yourself?” he says. He inhales. “You smell like jasmine – your whole body....” He takes a deep breath. “It smells...good.”

  “It was good,” I say, my voice wavering.

  He leans in again, breathes in. “You smell like something else, too. Something...sticky. Musky. Spicy. The way you smell when you’ve…” Then it hits him. His eyes widen with rage and he pulls back, clenching his fists. “Sidney, you've been fucking someone, haven't you?”

  “None of your business,” I retort coolly.

  His fists are clenching so tight they've gone white. “Johnson,” he growls.

  I've never seen him look angrier.

  Chapter 6

  Anger rears up in me. I can't believe this. I'm astonished – livid, even. How dare he, I think. How fucking dare he? Less than twelve hours after he shatters my heart into a million tiny pieces, Philip LaFleur has the gall to tell me how to run my sex life? He's decided that he doesn't want to be with me, that he just wants to treat me as just another conquest, just another virgin to deflower, the way he's treated everyone else in his life. And you know what? That's fine. I'm a big girl. I'm a grown-up. I can live with that. I'm going to be just okay. Just dandy.

  But what really gets my goat is that Philip LaFleur actually thinks he has the right to tell me what to do with my body. (Hell, let's be explicit here – I'm not a blushing virgin anymore – with my vagina.) That he has the right to get angry at me for moving on, the very thing he told me to do in the first place. His attitude makes me sick. Everything about him makes me sick. And still, as I stare into his eyes, all I feel is pain. Desire. Need. I still want him, even through my rage. I still hunger for him. I still want him to take me into his arms and tell me that everything's going to be okay, that he still wants me, that it was all a mistake, all a dreadful misunderstanding, something, anything other than “we shouldn't be together.” Something, anything, other than “it was all a game to me. I realize that now. You're nothing to me and I don't want you anymore.”

  I look into Philip's anguished face. There's a curious expression there, one I don't immediately recognize. It's more than just pain. It's...regret, maybe. Guilt? Then he walks away from me. He slumps into his leather swivel chair, not even
looking up at me.

  “I didn't think you thought so little of me,” he says in a voice that is full of agony. His eyes are still on the desk. “I didn't realize our relationship meant as little to you as it evidently did.”

  I hate that I've hurt him. I feel terrible for hurting him. And I feel angry that I feel terrible. He broke up with you, I tell myself. He deserves to feel hurt. He deserves to be just as hurt as he made you. And yet somehow, looking at his deep, brooding eyes, his intense stare, I feel the most incredible sympathy for him. I hate that I've made him unhappy. I hate that I've done anything to mar that beautiful face of his with a frown.

  “You said it was over, Philip,” I say. My voice is shaking a little bit. “You said you didn't want to be with me. You broke up with me. You said you loved me and you took my virginity and then you turned right around and said it was a mistake...” My eyes start to fill up with tears as the pain of that moment floods through me.

  Philip gets up. He walks over to me, takes my hand in his. His skin feels so good I can feel his pulse, his heart beating into his wrist, his pulse quicken with desire for me. “I was wrong, Sidney,” he says in a low voice. “It wasn't a mistake. I don't regret it, not for an instant.”

  “Because you got laid...” I say bitterly.

  “No!” he looks horrified. “How could you even think that, Sidney? I care about you. I truly, deeply, do. It's just that with our parents getting married – everything got so confusing, Sidney. Everything got thrown out of whack it was overwhelming. I thought that maybe taking some time apart, considering our circumstances, was the right thing to do. But it's hard, Sidney. Harder than I could know. I can't get you out of my head. I can't get you out of my heart. And the thought of you with another man makes me want to smash every glass wall in this office. I don't know how I can stand it. But we're family....now.”