Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  I show Jagger the text, and he raises his eyebrows. We both know what Samantha is capable of when you piss her off. We are ushered to a waiting limo, and once inside, Jagger opens his iPad. He types in his own name on Google. Yes, it is just as weird for us as it is for you to stalk us. He finds the article in reference to Sam’s statement and opens it.

  Yesterday, a story was released by TMZ citing bad boy rocker Jagger Carlyle was photographed the night before in a strip club with stripper Heidi Rosenberg. He was then cited to be photographed leaving the club with Rosenberg. Carlyle’s publicist, Samantha Davenport, issued a statement this morning:

  “It saddens me that my work deals with keeping good people out of harm’s way. Fourteen months ago, I was contacted by Heidi Rosenberg regarding the night in question. Mr. Carlyle did indeed visit the Toy Box, and he did leave with Rosenberg. However, this occurred fourteen months ago. Rosenberg was asking for a substantial financial settlement in exchange for the photographs. My client declined to associate any further with Ms. Rosenberg. I advised the dancer that Mr. Carlyle is a public citizen who has every right to visit a gentleman’s club, and he would not pay to keep the public from knowing he is a human being. Mr. Carlyle felt as though his rejection of Ms. Rosenberg outside of his hotel on said night led her to harbor ill will towards him. When I brought the accusation to the table, Ms. Rosenberg behaved irrationally and disconnected our call. My firm, nor Mr. Carlyle, has received any further communication from Heidi Rosenberg. My client is involved in a relationship and is asking that his privacy and his right to carry on a relationship be respected. If you have any further questions regarding the allegations against Mr. Carlyle, please forward them to my firm.”

  The beloved bad boy of rock-n-roll is currently linked to the gorgeous Guitar Goddess, Henley Hendrix. The two have been spotted all over the country as she tours with Broken Access. Four weeks ago, Hendrix was assaulted by a Broken Access fan in St. Louis and sustained a severe head trauma that lead to a brief hospitalization. A friend close to the family stated Jagger never left her side and was beside himself until she gained consciousness again. Other than the statement from the publicist, there is no indication of the effect of the scandal on their relationship.

  “Don’t you love how they always say ‘a friend close to the family,’ and people have no idea it is our publicists?” he laughs.

  Samantha is really good at what she does.

  “So I’m linked to the gorgeous Guitar Goddess, huh?” he teases.

  “You haven’t been lately, no,” I tease.

  “Are you saying you miss being linked to me?” he asks.

  “Jagger, my vagina hasn’t been touched in four weeks, so I’m definitely saying I miss being linked to you. A girl has needs is all I’m saying.”

  He rolls the privacy window up to block the driver’s view and presses the intercom button to tell the driver to take the long way back. Please take the long way down while we are at it.

  Jagger kisses me softly. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You were so weak. Don’t think I didn’t want you. Jerking off like a teenager is getting old.”

  I smile and kiss him back. I climb over the seat and straddle him as we continue to kiss slowly. He takes my top off, and my bra slowly follows. He kisses my chest and then my breasts, sucking and licking my nipples softly. I remove his shirt and unbutton his pants. He pulls out a foil and then unbuttons my pants. He kisses my mouth again, and I moan as his hands play with my breasts.

  “Henley, I have been tested, and I’m clean. You were tested in the hospital, so I know you are clean. Can we stop using the condoms? I want to feel you.” I trust Jag with everything, so all he really had to do was ask.

  I slide down on him as my way of an answer, and he moans loudly. It feels so damn good. I relax my hips and start grinding on him. He places his hands on my hips and digs his fingers in. I love it when he does that. I ride towards my release when his head falls back and his dick jumps.

  “Fuck you feel so good. You are so warm and wet.”

  Then he explodes inside me. I ride until that tingly feeling begins, and I know I’m on the brink of my own release. I close my eyes, and my head falls back. The tingly sensation is accompanied by a light-headed feeling, and my body feels light as a feather as the muscles tighten in preparation for my climax. Then I dive over the edge. My breathing is irregular, and I shake a little. I whisper his name and keep grinding until the tingles go away. Then I collapse on him.

  “Jesus Christ, that was beautiful. I love watching you come. I need to record it so next time we have to be apart, I can use it as jerk off material,” he says.

  I let out a little laugh while trying to catch my breath.

  Chapter 18

  Jag and the guys are so happy I’m back on tour. After our little scare with the stripper, who is of course named Heidi, I feel a little needy. I just need to be with him. As I watch them play that night, I know I need to get into the studio. I never made it to Memphis, so I never had the “Let’s make another album” conversation with Griffin and Rhys, and they didn’t press me about my intentions.

  I stand on the side of the stage and listen to the song Jagger wrote about giving his heart to me. I wonder if the world knows he is talking about me.

  Dale, the bassist from Resin, approaches me as I listen to Broken Access. “Hey, Henley. Glad you are feeling better after St. Louis.”

  “Thanks, Dale.” I give him a little hug.

  “Look, I know you get asked all the time for favors, but I figured it is worth a shot.” His South African accent is really hot.

  “Shoot.” I say.

  “Shaun’s birthday is coming up, and I think he would be really surprised and stoked if you sang with him at one of the gigs,” he says.

  “I would love to. What song?” I ask.

  “Broken would be a great song since it’s already been sung as a duet.”

  “Isn’t that song a little tainted for him?” I ask.

  “Nah. It wasn’t written for her.”

  “Why don’t we just surprise him at the next gig? I don’t know if I will be on tour for sure on his birthday,” I say.

  “Yeah, great. Sounds good. Thanks Henley,” he says. I really could listen to the guy talk all night. Maybe Jagger would work on a South African accent for me? Dale and I plan out how to best surprise Shaun at the show two Saturdays from now in Los Angeles. I think we work out all the details, and I’m really excited for the chance to play with the band. They are an amazing group of artists.

  When Jagger emerges off stage, he is shirtless and sweaty. Did I mention hot as hell? We party with the other bands after the show. I’m so happy to see them and the road crews. I get attached to people. We play Bullshit with Shaun, Dale, John, Koi, and Jagger. These guys are a lot of fun. Their mouths are as dirty as ours, which is pretty common in the music industry.

  Jagger and I go out of the game about the same time and find an empty room to be naughty in. We step behind a bookcase that holds sheet music, and I drop to my knees. I unzip his pants and set his manhood free. I’m still impressed at the sight of it. I lick the underside of his shaft all the way down to his balls. Then I place all of him in my mouth and suck slowly.

  “Shit, Hen that feels so good.” I keep sucking and pick up my pace in increments. Then, I embrace my inner porn star, and I take him all the way to the back of my throat.

  “Holy fuck!” he says.

  Yeah, so he likes it a little. So I suck from the tip of his dick all the way down. I keep deep throating him and sliding back up the length.

  “I’m going to come baby.” I keep sucking. He knows I’m going to swallow his load like a good girl.

  “Fuck yes!” he yells. Then he blows his load in my mouth, and I swallow every last drop of it. I put him back to right and zip him back up.

  He kisses me on the cheek and pulls me to him. “I’m feeling romantic tonight. Has anyone ever told you, you can suck
a man dry?” he asks, and I burst into laughter.

  “Quite the silver-tongued one.”

  “Hey, not all guys can pull off romance like I do.”

  ***

  The next morning I wake in typical Kip style.

  “Oh yeah dad-dy. Put you fist in me. Fist me like whore. Tell you friend to put cock in my mouth,” a Russian-accented woman says.

  “Oh yeah? You like that fist don’t you Nadia?” Kip asks.

  “You put cock in my pussy. I like big cock.”

  “Yeah, daddy’s gonna give you big cock. Where do you want it first?” Kip asks Nadia.

  Nadia groans and squeals a little. “You stick it in my ass like dog.”

  “Yeah I’m going to stick it in your ass, you bitch.” Kip told Nadia.

  “If you don’t shut that bitch up, I’m going to stick my foot in your ass.” Koi says, and we all roar with laughter.

  “He hasn’t done that shit the entire time you have been gone,” Koi announces from his bunk.

  “I haven’t needed to. You see, when Henley is here, her proximity keeps me in a constant state of hard. I just use the porn as a cover so she doesn’t know I’m really jacking off to these lacy boy shorts taped on the top of my bunk. When she isn’t here, I don’t need cover. I pretend I’m really spraying her in the face with my load when I shoot it on the top of my bunk on her pictures,” he says.

  “I just vomited in my mouth a little,” I say.

  I exit the bunk and head for the restroom to get as far away from Nadia as possible. When I emerge, Jagger is holding my cup of coffee and as I slide down, he places the ashtray between us. He hands me a cigarette and lights it for me. I smile the biggest smile I’m capable of in the morning.

  “What’s that smile for?” he asks, giving me an equally big smile.

  “I missed my morning coffee and cigarette.”

  “Me too.”

  “Well, I miss you letting me toss your salad. You haven’t told me how much you miss it back, buttercup,” Kip says.

  I hold my hand up at Kip and he ceases talking for the time being. Jagger chuckles.

  We are currently on the road headed to Los Angeles. It takes close to 18 hours to travel from Portland to L.A. by bus. We are scheduled to arrive around seven tonight. I cook the guys some breakfast and settle in to finish writing a song.

  ***

  L.A. hasn’t changed since the last time I was here. I still have a house in the area, but I only stay when I need to come here for a photo shoot. I own a house in Pacific Palisades. If I was going to live in California for any amount of time, I was buying a house on the beach. My house has a bungalow feel to it. I love the modern setup and my artistic additions to the décor over the years. Jagger has roomed with Koi for the last two years, so he decides to stay at my house since he isn’t attached to anything at Koi’s.

  Jagger and I hang out on the beach for most of the evening and decide at the last minute to go out in search of food. I put on a messenger cap and find him a Yankees cap. Jagger drives my Range Rover towards Santa Monica Boulevard. We blare Red Hot Chili Peppers the entire way to Dan Tana’s. This joint has the best Italian food known to man.

  “Stay put,” Jag orders when we arrive. He crosses in front of the car and opens my door for me. I smile.

  He holds my hand as we walk to the front door. This place has been open since 1964 and has red booths you would imagine in a Rat Pack movie. The tables are donned with red checkered table clothes, and it had an old, familiar vibe to it. The best thing about this place is that it’s open until 1:30 in the morning. I have even begged the managers to stay open a bit longer after a long stint in the studio. We are instantly recognized and subsequently seated immediately. I order my usual, spaghetti with meatballs. I finally tell Jagger about my plans to speak with Griffin and Rhys about recording another album, and he doesn’t look the least bit surprised.

  “How will you go about finding another guitar player?” he asks.

  “I honestly don’t know. It is something we need to do as a band. It won’t be easy to choose another guitarist. I know a lot of bands decide to go the probationary route, but I need to feel secure in our choice. I need to be secure enough to bring someone into the fold fully,” I answer.

  “I get that. It can’t be easy to do this. We have always been lucky. None of us have ever done any shit crazy enough to make the rest of the band want him out. I really can’t imagine losing one of them. I don’t know how you fill shoes like Caleb King’s. Those are mighty big shoes to fill,” he says with a sad little smile.

  “They most definitely are. I don’t even have anyone in mind right now. I need to talk to Maria and Donnie first. I don’t want it to seem disrespectful. I know that Caleb would have wanted me to record and keep playing a long time ago.”

  “Can I ask you a question?” he asks.

  “You know you can.”

  “Henley, I don’t know how to ask this without coming right out and saying it. Did anything ever happen between you and Caleb?”

  The question doesn’t shock me. I have been asked this a million times before. I’m not even exaggerating the amount of times.

  I sigh. “I never saw Caleb like that. I loved him, sure. I just never saw him as anything but my best friend, a brother even.”

  “And Caleb?”

  “If he felt that way about me, he never shared. He never gave me any indication that he saw me as more than a friend. Why?”

  I’m suddenly curious where his train of thought stemmed from.

  “When you two played on stage together, there was a cohesiveness that usually only lovers share. When you two got lost in the guitars, it was intimate. There are times it felt like I shouldn’t watch, almost like I was watching you two make love. The chemistry you two had musically is rare. I have played music with your brother for almost as long as you played with Caleb, and we know each other. I know by his facial expressions if he is going to deviate. I know by his body language, which way he is going on that guitar. You two closed your eyes, and you just somehow knew what the other was doing. I don’t mean practiced songs, recorded songs, or something the two of you played countless times. I’m talking about the unplanned guitar solos. When you decided it was time to step away from the mike, the two of you would go on forever.”

  “That’s why I had no desire to play music again,” I confess.

  “I think I get that now.”

  We finish our meal, and I pay the bill since Jagger pays for most things. Paparazzi surround my Range Rover when we emerge. Shit on a stick. Jag grabs my hand, and we keep our heads down as we walk the distance to the car. They know it’s us within seconds. The berating began.

  Henley, how do you feel about the stripper?

  Is it true she is having Jagger’s love child?

  Will you leave him now?

  Jagger, how does she taste?

  Jagger stills at this comment, and I know he is ready for a fight. I squeeze his hand, look up briefly, and shake my head. “Please don’t,” I’m pleading him silently.

  We wade through the idiots, and when I say wade, I mean it. They don’t move out of your way. They stay in your face every second they can get access to you. All for a fucking shot on TMZ tonight. It is really big news that Jagger, and I went out to eat. By the time the story develops, they will know exactly what we ate and drank.

  Jagger, are you still in contact with Heidi Rosenberg?

  Henley, since Jagger loves fake breasts so much, are you considering having yours done?

  Jagger is it true that you and Koi Hendrix aren’t speaking as a result of Heidi?

  Jagger finally gets me to the Range Rover and opens the door. I quickly jump in, and he closes the door. It takes him a minute to get around to the driver’s door, but he manages. Once inside, he turns the radio all the way up, and we pull our caps down even lower. We pull onto Santa Monica Boulevard, and he cuts the radio when we are paparazzi free. I
burst into laughter. Jagger smiles, but looks a bit confused.

  “Jagger Carlyle and Henley Hendrix are spotted eating at Dan Tana’s tonight. She ate the Spaghetti with meatballs, and he devoured the manicotti. They even had tiramisu for dessert. She is getting close to thirty, she better start watching those hips. Oh look, here they are now. Jagger, can you tell us how you feel about Henley’s vagina?” I thrust my imaginary microphone into his face.

  “Well, I’m glad you ask. I’m in love with her vagina,” he says with a grin.

  “Does the carpet match the curtains?” I ask and thrust my imaginary mic back in his face.

  “I wouldn’t know. She waxes very regularly. It is as smooth as a baby’s ass,” he winks.

  “Is it true you two were married in Vegas last night?”

  “No. Her mother would kill me if I eloped and married her daughter in front of Elvis.”

  Isn’t that the truth!

  “What do you say regarding the allegations that you are expecting a child later next year?” I hammer him with another question.

  His smile drops, and he stares ahead for a minute and doesn’t say a word. What’s up with him?

  “Jag?”

  “That’s enough Henley. It’s not funny anymore,” he chastises me like a child. What the fuck?

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you,” I apologize. What did I do?

  “You don’t offend me. You just took it too far,” he snaps at me.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “You don’t think I noticed? The questions about marriage and children. Something you would like to tell me?” He is beyond pissed.

  “What in the hell are you accusing me of exactly, Jag?” My voice does nothing to hide my hurt.

  “You want to get married and have children? If you want to know if I want the same things, why don’t you have the decency to ask me instead of beating around the bush like a fucking idiot?” he speaks through his tense jaw.