Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  After sitting on the porch for another hour, I shower and dress. Cory is waiting on Cash and I when we exit the house into the garage. Ian says his goodbyes and heads back to set.

  “You can’t go anywhere by yourself,” he advises.

  I blow a huge breathe out and glance up to the heavens for assistance. I don’t want to be babysat, but it’s safer for me.

  “Okay.”

  Cory and I talk about everything except my potential stalker on the way to the stable. When I attempt to take the path to the stable by Red’s house, he guides me to the studio.

  “Red said for you to come here first,” he smiles.

  I exit my vehicle in front of the massive studio and lock the car. Cash greets Kip who sits on a chair smoking a cigarette outside the studio door. Those two have missed each other. Kip offers me a smile and the heaviness inside me seems lighter.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  Upon opening the studio door, I hear a guitar being strummed, and it brings a smile to my face. Music is my life. Red sits at the board while Koi and Jagger play in the live room. Red is working his mojo with eyes closed as the two strum acoustic guitars. He’s arranging every part of the song in his head and already deciding on how to record the best song possible.

  “What do you think?” Koi asks.

  Red presses a button and speaks into their headphones, “Guitars sound good. Vocals aren’t right.”

  “I agree,” Jagger says.

  “Needs something else. They sound great with Koi singing backup, but needs something else,” Red says. R

  “Yeah, Henley,” Koi scoffs.

  “What?” I ask Red who is the only one who can hear me.

  “Want to sing a duet, baby doll?” he asks.

  “That’s like asking if I can do you a favor. I sort of need to know what that is before I say yes,” I say.

  Red hits the button again, “I guess you boy’s best come out here and ask her yourself.”

  Jagger and Koi emerge from the live room.

  “So how about it?” Koi asks.

  “I need to hear the song.”

  “I don’t…” Jagger begins at the same time Koi does.

  “No problem,” my brother answers.

  The two sit down and play the song for me.

  If I said I’m sorry would you forgive?

  Or does it overshadow it all?

  I completely miscalculated the outcome,

  And I’m left here to wonder if this is my fall.

  I fought for this for so long,

  But now I don’t feel so strong.

  Only you keep me alive,

  Say the words so I can survive.

  I search for you in my sleep,

  Hoping you’ve come back for me.

  I’d search the world over for you,

  Tell me you’re looking too.

  So that when I wake,

  My pain is only yours to take.

  I never meant to do you harm,

  Only to save you from the storm.

  Don’t you see?

  It was all for what would be.

  The nights without you are long,

  Come be my guiding light.

  I know I was wrong,

  I can make this right.

  I search for you in my sleep,

  Hoping you’ve come back for me.

  I’d search the world over for you,

  Tell me you’re looking too.

  So that when I wake,

  My pain is only yours to take.

  All eyes are on me when they finish the song, and Jagger refuses to make eye contact. The song is about me, and he may write about whatever he chooses, but hearing his words and the pain the memories cause is heavy. I continue to stare at my shoes until someone else has the courage to speak first. The quiet makes Koi nervous because he randomly strums down the strings on the guitar he holds.

  “I think you should take the second verse and then the two of you can sing the chorus together,” Red says and finally breaks the silence.

  “You okay with singing this, Hen?” Jagger asks.

  “Do you want me to sing it?” I’m not sure I want to. It will become one of those epic heartbreak songs, and the entire world will speculate about our situation. Fuck.

  “It’s about you,” he says quietly.

  “Yeah,” I continue to stare at my shoes.

  “Ok,” he whispers.

  Red and Koi take over the conversation, discussing backup vocals, and where and how my voice fits in. I don’t pay attention to the details. They are just words, right? Words about how he hurt me, but didn’t mean to. Words that say he feels like he is suffocating without me. I’ve forgiven him, not for him, but because I had to for me. Forgiveness doesn’t lighten the heaviness of his words.

  They are just words. Jump, monkey, ape, chimpanzee, fruit, banana, why do I keep thinking about primates? Research labs, orangutans, evolution, Darwin, this is stupid. I need a new category of words to think about. Dogs, I like dogs. Pit bulls, American Bulldogs, Schnauzers, Labs, Chihuahua, Yorkie, why am I thinking about animals again?

  “Why don’t we just try to run through and see where it goes?” Red asks.

  Here goes nothing.

  I follow Jagger and Koi into the live room where we each place a set of headphones over our heads. Jag and my brother play the acoustic guitars and Jagger sings with Koi singing backup. It won’t be recorded this way, but at least we can get a feel for what the song needs before we get into the vocal booth.

  I break for lunch a few hours later and opt to eat with my grandmother instead of in the presence of the song that waits for me in the studio. I’m a chicken shit. You don’t have to say it out loud. Who ever said avoidance wasn’t a healthy way to deal with your problems? Well fuck him!

  Upon returning to the studio, Red announces my brother and Jag have finished laying down the simple acoustic accompaniment. Jagger is in the vocal booth giving it all he’s got. He sings the entire song through, and it gives me direction for my own voice. An hour passes, and Jagger steps out of the vocal booth.

  “You’re up, doll,” Red says.

  I enter the vocal booth waiting for my mark. The song stops after the first verse is sang by Jagger.

  “Can you sing the entire song for me Sug’? I may use your vocals as backup for parts of the song.

  “Ok,” I whisper softly into the mic.

  I sing the entire song six times before Red tells me he has what he needs. I take the back exit to avoid Jagger’s prying eyes.

  Chapter 8

  Henley

  I have to be honest, the dark makes me nervous. When the sun disappears from the sky, the boogie man comes out. When you know what you are dealing with, you can prepare, and possibly even see it coming. I don’t know shit. I’m not sure if this is a prank, or if I have my very own special looney stalker. I prefer a prank. I think my friends and family would’ve fessed up by now if that was the case.

  Nightfall intensifies my concerns. Cory has a crew already completing the security measures we discussed earlier. There is a crew of men in and out of my home, and all over my property. It makes me anxious. I can’t seem to settle down.

  “How much longer will they be here?” I ask.

  “They will most likely work through the night. The sense of urgency has been relayed to the company I’ve contracted,” Cory answers.

  Fuck. I attempt to sit down at my computer and answer some overdue emails, but the drills sounding off send my ability to focus right out the door. I fix a sandwich for Cory and I and we eat in silence as the men’s boots stomp through the house. Their hammers resound through my home, and silence lasts only long enough for the sound of a drill to replace it. My sanity is slowly slipping away.

  “Jesus Christ,” I mutter as I wash the plate my sandwich is on.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Cory smi
les knowingly.

  “Road trip?”

  “As long as it isn’t L.A.,” he answers.

  “Not a fan?”

  “I can only feel comfortable for a set amount of time in that circus.”

  “Where to?” I ask.

  “Let’s get in the car and figure it out.”

  ***

  Cory and I end up in a local bar in Warner Robins where we both order a beer and rack up the balls on a pool table.

  “So you’re okay to drink?” he asks.

  “Alcohol was never a problem for me. I never used it to escape. I should probably stay away from it all, but hell I need a vice. I guess we’ll see how it goes tonight.” I answer.

  We play pool for hours and talk about everything that happened in California. Let me rephrase, we discuss all the bad decisions I made. Cory offers a lot of advice and insight into why I reacted the way I did to stress. He thinks I made a good decision in coming back to Georgia, and I get the impression he is proud of me for getting my shit together.

  After midnight, I’m tipsy and feeling a little hot to trot. Ian texts around one a.m. checking on me, so I alternate between shooting pool and texting Ian.

  Ian: How’s it going?

  Me: Playing pool with Cory and drinking beer.

  Ian: Any word on your admirer?

  Me: No, and there were forty men on my property and in my home. I had to get out of there for a while.

  Ian: Contractors?

  Me: Yeah.

  Ian: So what you wearing?

  Me: Blue jeans with holes in them, a racer back black tank, and knee high black boots.

  Ian: Anything under it?

  Me: What kind of woman do you take me for? Of course I’m wearing my underthings Mr. Summers! I was raised in the South after all.

  Ian: Details woman!

  Me: lacey and black

  Ian: I’ll meet you in your house in an hour

  Me: Seriously?

  Ian never answers me back, so after half an hour, I announce I’m ready to head home. Cory gives a brief nod, and we make the twenty-five-minute ride home. Upon arrival, Cory checks the work of the contractors and calls whoever is in charge to ask questions.

  Ian is waiting on my front porch with a smirk on his face.

  Cory walks past us and issues a, “I want to be made aware of even the smallest thing that happens, anything that concerns you should be taken straight to me. That goes for both of you.”

  We agree.

  “I thought I would beat you here,” I say.

  “I was extra motivated to arrive rather quickly,”

  He is sitting on the porch steps and reaches out for me. I place my hand in his and he pulls me closer to him.

  “All I could think of for fifty minutes was you in black lace,” he admits.

  “Yeah?”

  He reaches behind his back, and brings forward a small bouquet, “I brought you something you love even more than lilies.”

  He hands me beautiful orchids.

  “Did you know that orchids are delicate? You can’t touch the flower itself without risking damage to it.”

  “You find beauty in that. I think you even relate to it; however, you don’t damage nearly as easily, love. I can attest to the fact you can be touched without risking damage,” he winks.

  “Don’t fuck with my emotions, Ian. I’m tipsy and hor…”

  He pulls me to him and his mouth covers mine. His fingertips quickly find my cheek, lightly brushing his thumb up and down my jawline. His tongue dances with mine, setting a slow pace. His free hand rests on my lower back and inches me closer to him until I’m standing between his legs. He pulls away enough to peer into my eyes, his breathing labored.

  “I love your eyes. They’re absolutely gorgeous. And your mouth…”

  He leans in to kiss my lips, slowly, softly, almost painfully exploring only my lips. There is no tongue involved, only the soft grazing of his lips against mine.

  “Your lips are so perfectly plump, and the point of your top lip dips down just enough that it seems to beg to be touched, licked, kissed, and nibbled on.”

  With his hand still on my lower back, he pulls me into him firmly but gently, and dives into my mouth. He doesn’t stay there long before he explores behind my ear, and down my neck ever so slowly. When he reaches the point where my neck meets my shoulder my head falls back and a moan escapes my mouth. He makes a little sound that tells me he is smiling. I run my hands through his hair and grab a handful. He groans and seconds later he stands from the porch step and picks me up. My legs wrap around his slender waist and remain there as he pushes through the front door.

  I hope Cory has made himself invisible because I really don’t want to have this conversation in the morning. Ian makes it to my bedroom swiftly where he closes the door with his foot. We turn around instantly, my back against the door, his hands run under my tank feeling everything my body offers underneath. I grab the remote off the nearby dresser and turn on some music. His impatience becomes evident when he rushes us to my bed, lays me down, and pulls my jeans off before I even realize he’s unbuttoned them. His own zipper sound fills the air quickly and then disappears only to be replaced by the sound of denim being pushed down his legs. I sit on the bed feeling impatient myself and run my hands up his sculpted abdomen pushing his shirt higher as I go.

  I run my tongue up the center of his stomach and chest and he groans loudly as he pushes his hand up the back of my head grabbing his own handful of hair. When I reach his neck, he pulls me back by the hair he holds hostage in his hand, gives me a sexy ass smirk and then dives into my mouth kissing me fervently. I am relieved of my bra as he pushes me onto my back. I hook my toes into his boxers and help him right out of those suckers.

  His lips start at the bottom of my neck and make the journey down South to my peach. His hands find the crook in my knees and push them back as his mouth sucks on all the right parts. I push my hands through his hair and enjoy every damn suck and lick and even the little puffs of air he blows on the little man in the boat. Ian takes his job seriously, spreads me wide open, and dives in like he hasn’t eaten in days.

  So very glad I could nourish you.

  He drives me to the edge and then lets me teeter on the edge before he pulls away, licking on my inner thighs before he returns to sweetly torture me further. This is exactly how I want to die, with a gorgeous man between my legs extending my pleasure until I erupt and kill over dead. Just let me finish the orgasm first please.

  He kisses his way up my body and smiles when his eyes meet mine. His hand pushes my left leg back, and he slowly enters me. I love the initial feeling of penetration. He moves slowly in and out of my body, running his hands over every visible inch of me. It isn’t rushed or impatient in the least.

  “I love being inside of you,” he whispers.

  “Never stop,” I plead.

  “I’m not stopping until you let go, Hen.”

  I love fucking him. I’ve mentioned that before, right? He’s never selfish. He’s such a thoughtful lover.

  He stops kissing me but keeps his face lowered closely to mine.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he softly commands and I obey.

  His eyes look deeply into mine, and I almost get lost in the blues staring back at me. For the first time in years, I see something I’ve never seen there before and it scares the hell out of me, so I do the chicken shit thing and close my eyes.

  “Don’t shut me out, Hen,” he softly pleads.

  “Ian…”

  “I know you’re not ready yet. Please just let me feel it without the guilt,” he begs.

  “No guilt.”

  “I need this, Henley.”

  I grab his face between my hands and watch his eyes fill with a level of need I’ve never seen before.

  I swallow my own fears and give Ian what he needs. Flipping him over onto his back, I grind on him slowly. I miss the fee
ling of his mouth on mine, so I lean down to interlace my fingers and mouth with his. I pull him up to my body as I grind on him and slowly kiss his mouth. He adjusts me as he rises to his knees, pulling me back down to him over and over again.

  My climax slowly builds until I can’t take it anymore. The tingle begins in my center and explodes throughout my body taking me on the ride of a fucking lifetime. He continues to move on just the right spot extending my orgasm, sending me into an oblivion I’ve only ever felt a few times in my life. As I ride the wave, my head and torso lean back to push down on him for even more friction, and when I’ve landed over the side of the cliff it feels like I flew over, he pulls me to him.

  “I need more,” he whispers and trails kisses down my shoulder blade as he continues to move in and out of my body.

  I take longer than usual to recover, so I enjoy the closeness of his body flush against mine. I love the way he sounds when he’s lost in my body, so I listen to him and feel the fast beat of his heart against my chest.

  “I need more,” he says again, but this time I don’t think he’s talking to me, and I’m not sure he means sex or the amount of releases either of us ends up with.

  I shake off his words, unsure of what he’s trying to bury inside of me, and try to be what he’s always needed me to be… a friend. He seems to clear his head of his own words with a small shake of his head. He gently lays me down on the bed, and guides my leg over his shoulder. He buries his face in my neck and hair, and moves with more determination and firmness, but not speed.

  The pinnacle of the entire act builds again, and I purposely hold back. He’s here tonight silently begging me to take on his pain for him, and hell he’s done the same for me too many times in the past. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for or what he’s looking for.

  “Tell me what you need,” I lean down a hair and whisper in his ear.

  “I can’t seem to get deep enough,” his voice cracks.

  “You’re there. What else do you need?” I ask.

  He tries to pull away from me in obvious frustration, but I pull him back to me. “You came to me for this, so take it. What else do you need me to give you?”