Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

“What are you nervous about?”

  “You and Jagger.”

  I sigh, “Jagger and I will be fine. We will be on our best behavior. Two of our friends, whom we love dearly, are getting married. Your wedding day is about you and Cam, not me and Jag. I won’t have you worrying your pretty head over this.”

  “You say that now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “You are the maid of honor Hen, he is the best man. You will walk down the aisle with him after the ceremony.”

  “And?”

  “You are okay with that?”

  “I will be fine.”

  “Okay,” she says, not convinced.

  “Stop worrying about this. You need to worry about sending out thank you card, flowers, and picking out something naughty for your honeymoon night.”

  I think I convince Kathrine, Jagger and I wouldn’t ruin her wedding. I understand she’s worried about me, but I can handle being around him for her wedding ceremony.

  ***

  Henley

  Jessica and Sam show at the studio a few nights later.

  Jessica slams down a bottle of Crown, and empties a bag of shot glasses onto the table.

  I raise my eyebrows at them, questioningly.

  “I miss you, bitch. You have every right to be pissed at us. We hid something important from you, and I hid two things from you. While we were wrong for it, we didn’t do it maliciously. We did it to protect you, and I am very sorry for hurting you. We will drink this bottle of Crown and get it all out until we get back to where we were. I can’t take another day of you not being my main bitch. So sit your fucking ass down, and let’s take a shot,” Jessica says.

  “What she said… all of it,” Sam says and I burst into laughter.

  “I’m not mad anymore, I’ve just been busy,” I say honestly.

  “Good, then tonight will be all about fun, and not trying to win you back,” Sam says.

  “You were going to win me back?” I laugh at the notion.

  “Bitch, I wanted to give you flowers. Sam wanted to give you a vibrator, a big vibrator! I thought about flying your ass to Paris and dropping down on one knee and asking you to be my friend again. Sam wanted to send you a ‘check yes or no’ letter asking if we could be friends. We compromised on Crown, because we are all realists and whiskey works way better on getting you out of your panties,” she deadpans.

  “I am a cheap date, bitches!” I laugh.

  We drink through the night, and at some point Rhys, Griffin, and Kai join us. We talk about the impending wedding, and the lengths we will go to trash the car. At some point the night gets fuzzy, and when I wake, Jessica and I are cuddling on the conference room table. A quick glace around and I see Samantha cuddled with Kip on the couch, but never tell her I told you. She has a very gay reputation to protect. Kai is asleep in a chair, head down on the table, and Rhys is in the corner of the room snoring.

  ***

  Henley

  Three weeks go by fast, and tonight is Kathrine and Cam’s rehearsal dinner. She found a beautiful vineyard in Southern California that reminds you of Tuscany. The massive house is elegant and gorgeous. Between studio time and helping Kathrine with the wedding, I’ve kept my mind busy. Jagger quit calling and texting weeks ago. He’s been seen out on the town with a lingerie model. It hurts every time I happen upon the pictures on the internet or a store, but I swallow past the lump in my throat.

  I put on a cute orange summer dress, since Kathrine instructed for us to dress comfortably, and meet the framily at the vineyard, and am thankful we each have a place to stay tonight on the estate. Cam greets me and asks me to calm down Kathrine. She’s freaking out over every little detail, so I find her, make her breathe, and focus on the end game. From what I’ve heard, weddings never go as planned, so you forget about the small stuff, and enjoy the day no matter what. Once she’s calm, I walk with her to begin rehearsal. The wedding planner has already instructed Jagger and Cam to stand at the front. I walk out to the music and stand where previously instructed. I can sense his eyes on me, but I keep my eyes on the line of friends walking down the aisle.

  We walk through the orchestrated setup a few times before we head to dinner. The view is spectacular. We can see the vineyard in what looks like rolling, green hills. As I walk through the tables, I see Jagger with the lingerie model. I can’t believe he brought her. I quickly look away and find a table as far away as possible. Kip sits down as I down a glass of wine and squeezes my arm. I nod, because if I speak, I might just cry. Crying is ugly, and there’s no crying in rock-n-roll.

  We finish dinner, and I head in to find a ladies room before the dancing begins. I see an open, but large loft to my right, so I take the stairs, and find a facility at the back of the loft. When I emerge, Jagger is leaning against the railing.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he says softly.

  I nod, opting not to chance my words.

  He sighs, “I am sorry about the text and the night at the studio. I was drunk, and I missed you, so I lost it a little. Your song… and knowing that’s what I do to you… I just… I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that. Will you forgive me?”

  I nod again, but refuse to make eye contact.

  “Henley, please say something.”

  I remain quiet, eyes on the floor. I hear him sigh, and hope he will just go back to his date. I fight the waterworks threatening to spill over. Please just leave.

  He doesn’t, instead, I see his shoes enter my line of vision on the floor. He wraps his left hand around the back of my neck and kisses the top of my head.

  “Hen,” he pleads and the tears spill over the rim of my eyes.

  I remain quiet, so he lifts my chin, but I continue to refuse to look at him, so I bore a hole into the ceiling, tears cascading down my face.

  The back of his hand caresses my cheek, “Why do I do this to you?”

  I shake my head, still looking at the ceiling.

  “Pleases don’t cry, baby.”

  I roll my eyes at his endearment, and he forces himself into my line of vision, his height giving him the advantage. He wipes away my tears and leans down to softly kiss me. I kiss him back. Why? Perhaps, I am a glutton for punishment, or I think with my vagina, or even worse, I think with my heart. We end up in the large bathroom I just exited, and he lifts me onto a large counter with a mirror running its length. He pushes my dress up, pulls my panties down, and I think of the girl downstairs waiting on Jagger. I won’t do that to her or me. I push him away, pull my clothes together, and walk towards the door. He grabs me by the elbow and spins me around.

  “Stop it!” I scream and slap the palm of my hand across his cheek, which shocks the hell out of him. “I may not be good enough, but you do not get to rub her in my face, and then try to fuck me when she is in the vicinity. I will not do that to her or myself because we both deserve better. She may not know it, but I sure as hell do. We won’t do this again. I won’t be your whore. You brought one with you, stick to it.”

  He grabs me by the arm, “I fuck her! I don’t fuck you! I love you! Never forget the difference.”

  He might as well have slapped me because that’s what his words dealt a blow. I escape his reach, and duck out of the loft to join the festivities. I head for the bar when an arm pulls me behind a column. I lean back to throw a punch because I have had enough of people grabbing me.

  “Whoa!” Ian says with his hands up.

  Shit. Thank God, it’s him. Ian is a phenomenal actor, and a great friend. We’ve worked together on environmental projects before, and even had a few rolls in the hay, but we’re just friends. He is gorgeous, but it went no further.

  “Babe, you okay?”

  The tears threaten to spill over. He leans down to take me in.

  “Come ‘ere,” he says and pulls me into his body.

  After I compose myself, he leads me around the back of the house to a quiet little area surrounded by a bea
utiful flower garden.

  “Sit,” he says when we reach a bench in the courtyard

  He kneels down in front of me, pulls out a tissue, and wipes my face. He smoothes my hair into place and smiles.

  “Now, you look like you, gorgeous,” he smiles.

  “Thank you,” I sniffle.

  “We’re going to talk about it. I’ve seen enough shit in the media to get a general gist of the situation, but I want you to get it all out. You scream, cry, hit me, or whatever you need. You are getting this out, right here, right now. When we’re done, if the music is still playing, you and I are going down there and show that skinny bitch on his arm just what you have. If I remember correctly, you know exactly what to do with your body,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

  I punch him lightly, but lean into hug him. He moves from his kneeling position and sits beside me on the bench. He places my arm in the nook of his, so I lean my head on his shoulder and word vomit all the shit that’s happened since I’ve last seen him.

  “That’s fucked up.”

  “I agree.”

  “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

  “Yeah, well, my heart leads me to disaster time and time again.”

  “Well how about this time, we take the low road, and go fondle each other on the dance floor, and make a certain someone jealous as hell?”

  I laugh, “Sounds good.”

  We pick up drinks at the bar close to the dance floor, and Ian pulls me into a Sinatra song. We dance close to a basic waltz, and he spins me around every so often. I smile easily, but I always have in his company.

  “So what brings you to the rehearsal dinner?” I ask.

  “A little bird told me my friend may need me tonight, and I haven’t seen her in quite a while,” he said.

  “You came here to save me?”

  “I’m not sure I’m saving you. You’ve never needed saving, gorgeous. I came for moral support. You would do it for me.”

  “Damn skippy I would.”

  “You’re one of my favorite people in the world, Hen. I like your fire. You’ve always been so full of life, and willing to help others. There aren’t many celebrities I can say that about.”

  I laugh, “Call it our southern upbringing.”

  “He shouldn’t have brought her here. It’s too soon,” he frowns.

  “I think I would agree with you as would half of the people in attendance. Who called you?”

  “Kip. I was invited to the wedding, but he thought you could use another friend, someone to take your mind off of that ass hat tonight.”

  “I love Kip’s crazy ass.”

  “I saw his protest on TV when you were arrested. If I had been in the country, I damn sure would’ve been there too. Nice job on Robins, by the way.”

  “She started it,” I playfully defend.

  “Her head landing in the toilet was my favorite part, other than the ‘Friday’ moment Kip had,” he chuckles.

  Sinatra ends, then an old Usher song comes on, and I am immediately sandwiched between Ian and Kip. Both white boys can dance, so I enjoy every second of being naughty. A few more dance songs play, and Rhys and Stephanie join our group. Kathrine and Cam join, and we gyrate all over each other. Kathrine is feeling good, ever the beer drinker, but I hope it doesn’t hurt tomorrow.

  Stephanie leans over to my ear, “Jesus Christ that is one fuckable piece of man candy! Please tell me you’re hitting that tonight.”

  I laugh and whisper back, “It wouldn’t be the first time, girl.”

  “No!” she says. “You’ve been holding out on me, you Slutty McSlutterson!”

  “We’ve always been just friends.”

  “I don’t do the nasty with my friends, especially ones that look like that. I would do things to that man I would burn in hell for.”

  “Stop it and go back to Rhys you nymph!”

  Shortly after Stephanie’s sexual outburst, Otis Redding croons “Pain in My Heart.” Shit. Ian must sense my anger at the music gods, so he smiles a small smile, licks his sexy ass mouth, and pulls me in tight and we dance like lovers do. He sings in my ear, and I smile into his neck. His right hand rests on my lower back, and his left cups the back of my head, with his thumb to the side of the ear he sings in.

  We dance for another hour with my friends and drink several more beers before deciding we need sleep for the big day tomorrow. Ian and I walk arm in arm through the large halls of the estate, and when we reach my door, he pulls me down the hall.

  “You are staying with me tonight, love. Rhys and I were rooming, but he and Stephanie wanted a little hanky panky time, so I am now your roommate,” he wiggles his eyebrows. “I’ve already moved your things, so get your sexy ass in there.”

  Oh dear Lord Baby Jesus, I do not have enough will power for this man. Fuck it, I quickly relent. I need fun. I follow Ian to the room and step into the en suite bath to change for bed. I take in my little bitty black and white pinstriped boxer shorts and the thin white tank I packed for the weekend and wish I would’ve packed sweat pants and an oversized tee. My only other sleepwear option is just as skimpy. My hard nipples are poking out from the tank, so I contemplate putting my bra back on. I so should not have shaved my leg or armpits. That would give me will power. Loads of it. I shouldn’t have worn deodorant either, then he would be repulsed by me… no, I don’t want that. Yes, this is the stupid shit that goes through a girl’s head when she realizes she may unexpectedly get her wig shook. I remember how great he is in the sack and goose bumps run down my body. He is… how do I say… attentive and well equipped. I smile at myself in the mirror, because whatever happens between us, my life is okay in this moment. How many girls can say they are sharing a bed with him?

  I let myself out of the bathroom, and busy myself with packing the clothes I removed. He’s playing Otis, and fuck if Otis doesn’t make me horny.

  “You can’t sleep in that,” he says from the balcony.

  “Ugh, Ian, I have nothing else to sleep in.”

  “Why can’t you wear those oversized trash bag gowns old women wear?” he asks as he looks up at the ceiling. I’m not sure he is asking me.

  “I am not an old woman?” I answer.

  “Oh, I am well aware,” he confesses as he eye fucks me from my toes all the way to my head. I swear I can see the dirty pictures in his head, or maybe I can see the dirty pictures in my head?

  “I will sleep on the floor,” he says.

  “That’s ridiculous, Ian. We’ve slept together before, you aren’t sleeping on the floor. It’s a king sized bed, there is enough room for both of us.”

  “Every time I’ve slept in a bed with you, I’ve been inside of you a majority of the night,” he bites out.

  Damn. Say it again, daddy.

  I bite my bottom lip because for some unknown reason I’m nervous. We know each other well, and each other’s bodies equally well, so I’m not sure where the nerves are coming from. We’ve always had an understanding, and he is the only man who’s stuck to our agreement. We adore each other, we have each other’s back as friends, but when we are both single and in need, we enjoy sexy time together.

  “I’m a man, Henley. My dick is already hard. I didn’t… shit… I didn’t come here to seduce you. I came here as your friend because Kip found out last minute he was bringing what’s her face.”

  “Ian, I know you better than most, your intentions are sincere. We’ve known each other a long time, so you never have to explain yourself. We’ll put pillows between us if it makes you more comfortable.”

  “I’m not sure it will make me more comfortable,” he grins mischievously and grabs his impressive hard on.

  He takes his shirt off, drops his pants, and stands in front of me in his boxers, letting me take him in.

  “Damn,” I whisper. Michelangelo himself could’ve sculpted that body.

  He lets out a deep laugh, “Those were my thoughts when you walked out in that get
up.” He points to my body.

  I sigh because that’s all I have in this moment. He looks at me from across the room, and the silence stretches between us. He looks into my eyes and sighs. He then takes his time slowly and thoroughly appraising my body, starting at my legs and climbing towards my face. The silence becomes unbearable as I watch him eye fuck me. My heart rate speeds up, and Otis croons in the background about just being his lover. Shit Otis, from the grave, really?

  “Are we going to fight this?” he asks.

  I look at him curiously.

  “I didn’t come here for this, as I’ve already said, but we can lie down tonight and fight what always happens between us, or we can give into it. Our hearts belong to other people, people who don’t want everything we have to give, but they don’t have rights to our bodies right now. You and I, we love each other in our own way. We always know the score, so we can have a little fun, get a release, and enjoy each other. It’s always been great between us. Your heart hurts, but you deserve to have someone take care of you for a little while. I can’t heal your heart, Henley, but I can take care of you for as long as you’ll let me. Let me love you, gorgeous.”

  “She hurt you again,” I say feeling like a bad friend because I didn’t see the hurt in his eyes before now.

  “Yeah, but the heart wants what it wants. My body wants you.”

  He steps towards me, but stops short to gauge my reaction. He licks his lips, and I swear I melt into a puddle on the spot. He takes another step, leaving one step between us. Otis continues to serenade in the background as he runs his thumb over my lip. I close my eyes and take in his gentle touch. His hand slides up the side of my face, and I lean into it. He takes that as his cue and closes the small space between us. His lips touch mine, and the fire spreads all the way to my pussy. His hands begin at my hips and they run painfully slow up my sides, raising my arms when he finally gets to them. Fingertips brush the insides of my arms, until he reaches my fingers, where he interlaces his with mine, and I let out a moan. His hands bring my arms back down by my side, and he continues to kiss me at a moderate pace. He breaks his kiss long enough to pull my tank over my head, then his lips find their way back.