Guitar Face Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Sasha Marshall

  “Ha ha, I like how you did that you little wordsmith. So, you’re batting for the other team now? I’m hurt, I really am,” he pouts.

  “Jesus, why do all men think me not having an orgasm with a man means I’m going to lick snatch?”

  “Stop talking right now,” he frowns.

  “What? Why?”

  “You can’t say anything about you licking snatch without me getting a mental picture. It’s such a beautiful picture,” he admires as he stares into space.

  I snap my fingers in front of his face, “Focus grasshopper. I’m not going to fuck a woman. I’m only allowed to give myself orgasms. Sex gets me in trouble.”

  “You’re not helping. Now you’re talking about female masturbation. Shit,” he utters and adjusts himself.

  After copious amounts of food and a shower, Kip is insistent we visit a sex shop now. Right now.

  It’s a theme in his life… instant gratification.

  Jagger’s waiting for the elevator when we arrive. He makes eye contact for a brief moment and nods.

  “Let’s take the stairs,” Kip says.

  “It’s fine,” I huff.

  I can’t avoid Jagger, and Kip sure as hell can’t. They’re in a band together for Christ’s sake.

  The elevator pings so we enter the car in silence.

  “I’m sorry, Henley. I truly am,” Jagger says as he stares straight ahead

  “Shut the fuck up,” Kip commands.

  “Stop Kip,” I hush him.

  “Jag, you and I have to find some sort of working relationship together. I’m not saying we will be buddies anytime soon and give each other pedicures, but this tension and hurtful jabs have to stop. We’re too old for this shit, and we will be on tour for a year together. Seeing as our bands always tour together, it’s most likely going to be longer than that. You’re in a band with my brother and best friend, so unless you want to tear all this shit apart we need to be able to be professional with each other.”

  “Agreed. I’m sorry though, and I want to make sure that’s clear,” he says quietly.

  The elevator car arrives at the lobby, so we all exit with one last nod of understanding and agreement with each other. Well Jagger and I do, Kip not so much.

  Once we’re on the street I address it. “Kip you have to let it go. I appreciate and love you for always having my back, but it would hurt me far more if Broken Access split because of this shit. I’m a big girl and I can handle Jagger. So let me handle it from now on?”

  “I don’t like the way he treats you,” he states.

  “Will you let me handle it from now on? If the roles were reversed I’d be angry on your behalf too, but we’ve worked too damn hard to let this shit impede our careers and music. In a year or two, shit will be different. Time heals anger and hurt, so Jagger and I both will be in a better place. Hopefully, someday we’ll even be friends again. Let time do its thing.”

  “You’re handling this remarkably well,” he notices.

  “Kip, if I let what people say about me bother me, I’d never show face in public. Whether what they say has any ounce of truth to it or not, I learned not to put myself in a position to hear or see it if I can help it. If I can’t help it, I try to focus on feeling sorry for the people who have nothing better to do than talk about little ol’ me.”

  “You’ve always gotten a lot of flak from the media. I don’t know why they focus more on you than any of the rest of us. It pisses me off. We’ve done way worse shit than you have,” he admits.

  “Gender inequality. Now can we focus on getting me an electronic boyfriend?” I smile.

  “I love it when you talk dirty,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

  ***

  Memphis

  We board a private jet bound for L.A. that evening. It’s much better than flying commercial. Camden and I are lounging in the back of the plane playing a game of rummy. We shoot the shit and try to relax before the craziness in the next city starts. We’re being packed into radio interviews, magazine interviews, and television appearances for a solid fucking week. Luckily after this week we get a small break at home before we head back out. L.A. was once my home, as I grew up here, but once I found Red’s compound in Georgia I could never imagine calling any other place home. This promotional tour has really shown me why my family and friends stick so close to Georgia when time allows. There are no adoring fans and crazy media lurking around, just love, family, and friends.

  “We’re recording the video for I’m Waiting during the tour. I’ll be glad when this promotional tour is over so I can get back to my wife,” Camden says.

  “You must miss Kathrine.”

  “She’s my light man. In all this crazy bullshit we have to deal with just to do what we love, she’s the one who’s always standing by my side. She’s the one I can escape to,” he admires.

  “I hope I have that one day,” I admit.

  “You will. You just have to understand the difference between groupies, gold diggers, and genuine people. If you ever want to know which one you’re dealing with ask Henley. She doesn’t have a dick so she can think clearer than we can,” he laughs.

  “Which direction are they going with the video?” I ask.

  Samantha sits down beside Cam just as I finish my sentence.

  She smiles, “I’m glad you asked. I have an idea I need to run past each of you Cam.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I think Henley should be in the video. It would be great publicity for both bands. I think it might help get some of the negative attention off her and Jagger. What do you think?” she asks.

  “I think it’s a great idea. Do we have a director yet?” Cam asks.

  “I contracted Chauncey Knox for it. He’s great and I think he’ll do great with it,” she says.

  “Have you talked to Kip? It’s his song,” Cam questions.

  “I’ve talked to Koi and Jagger and they’ve agreed as long as the rest of you do. I’ll talk to Kip if you agree.”

  “It’s fine with me as long as Jagger behaves himself and those two aren’t cast in some a love story,” he qualifies.

  “That would be disastrous and I’ve already relayed as much to the director.”

  ***

  Henley

  Samantha enters my hotel room before my luggage is even delivered.

  “Need to talk,” she says.

  “Okay?”

  “A video for I’m Waiting is scheduled for a shoot right after the tour starts. The guys would like for you to be in the video. I think it will take the spotlight off you and Jagger and show the world you two are still working together and behaving like professionals.”

  I snort.

  “It doesn’t matter what the truth is, Henley. Part of my job is making the world believe what I need them to believe, and this is one thing I need them to believe. You in or not?” she asks impatient suddenly.

  I narrow my eyes at her to see if there are any ulterior motives. When I don’t give her an answer she picks up her phone.

  “Koi, I need you in Henley’s room as soon as possible please.”

  She’s going to sic my brother on me. That’s low.

  I unpack and hang my clothes while I wait for Koi. He walks in moments later and quickly rockets himself onto my bed face down.

  “I’m so fucking tired,” he moans.

  “I asked her to be in the video and she’s giving me that ‘I’m looking deep into your evil soul’ look,” Samantha advises.

  “What’s up sis?” Koi asks.

  “I’m trying to figure out what Samantha really wants,” I explain.

  He flashes a confused glance at Samantha.

  “I told her it was good publicity for both bands, and it would show the world her and Jagger are still working together professionally and behaving like the adults they are,” Samantha informs.

  Koi snorts. Hendrix family trait I guess.

  “Henley is the onl
y one acting like an adult around here. We’re throwing punches, saying shit we shouldn’t, and threatening to kick people out of bands. She’s been a good girl,” Koi defends me.

  “I’m not saying she hasn’t. Can we get back to the fucking task at hand, please?” Samantha redirects.

  “If there is any other motive to get you in this video, I’m unaware of it,” Koi says.

  “Okay. I’ll do it as long as it does not focus on Jagger and I in any way,” I give in.

  “Why would it focus on Jagger?” he seems confused.

  “Wouldn’t that be the direction any director would want to go with the video?” I ask.

  “No. Kip wrote the song, he played the song,” he says.

  “There’s no drum in the song,” I state.

  “I was there when it was recorded,” he says. “Have you listened to the song?”

  “I heard it when you guys played Letterman.”

  “You’re the worst sister and best friend ever right now. You heard it but you didn’t listen. Kip was playing an acoustic guitar that night,” Koi informs.

  “What?”

  “He’s gotten good. Cam plays the piano. Jag and I are both also playing guitars to back it up. You need to listen to the damn song.”

  “Okay, I’ll get on that. Why didn’t Kip tell me about all this?” I ask genuinely wondering why my best friend wouldn’t tell me he recorded his first song ever and was playing the guitar.

  “Guess you need to ask Kip,” he shrugs.

  “So you’ll do the video?” Samantha asks.

  “Yeah whatever. When is it?”

  “We’re staying over in L.A. for two days after the promotional tour ends. We’ll film it then,” she says.

  Koi snores softly on my bed, exhausted from the tour. We will be zombies by the time we leave L.A.

  “I wanted to make you aware that Ian and Straying will join the promotional tour this leg. He’s a famous actor, so the fans will eat it up. The scandal will only fuel interest. I’m apologizing in advance for any bullshit you have to deal with as a result of doing the nasty with Ian.”

  “Sensitivity is not your strong suit,” I chastise.

  “Yeah, well if I was a sensitive little cunt I wouldn’t be good at what I do.”

  “Touché.”

  I lay crossways on the bed as my brother sleeps. Pulling out my tablet, I find the song Kip wrote and listen to it over and over again. I want to take in every instrument, lyric, and chord. I was so nervous when they were performing on Letterman I didn’t pay the least bit of attention to it.

  The song begins with just Kip’s voice. There are no instruments for the first two lines of the song, and then a piano softly plays before the guitars come into the song. It’s soft, sad, and moving. Kip wrote this song, and that blows my fucking mind. I can’t tell you how many times I listen to it, just that I can’t stop. As soon as it’s over, I replay it.

  There’s this picture of you,

  Locked tight in my mind.

  Keeping it there to protect my heart.

  Want to keep it all mine.

  I want to drive down this road with you,

  So I can watch your hair blow in the wind and feel your hand in mine.

  I’ve waited so long,

  Second-guessing my affection,

  Losing myself all along,

  Not feeling ready or worthy.

  I’ve waited so long,

  And I’m still waiting.

  Finding you with tear stained cheeks,

  With sorrow in your eyes,

  Makes me weak.

  Moments like this,

  Make me want to break.

  I hold it all in, hoping to find you waiting,

  Ready to love me and say the words I want you to speak.

  But I’m still waiting

  For you to see

  My love could never hurt you,

  Only set you free.

  I’m waiting for you,

  To feel what I’m used to.

  I’ll always wait,

  Because there’s no one else to turn to.

  I try to talk myself out of hangin’ on,

  Telling myself to forget this fantasy.

  But it lives at night during my dreams,

  Where you come to me happy and ready,

  To give me your heart.

  Some days I grow tired of waiting,

  Because I’ll always fall short of what you deserve.

  Still, I’m here.

  I don’t know how long I’ll wait,

  Wait for my fate.

  I just hope you’re part of the plan,

  So I can be your man.

  I’m waiting girl,

  I ‘m waiting for you.

  I realize that in all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never heard him sing. He has this raspy, sexy, therapeutic voice. There’s something so raw but tender about his voice. His vocals are soothing, and when Koi and Jagger back his vocals it’s musical bliss. Eventually Kip Paxton, my best friend of 17 years lulls me to sleep.

  ***

  When I wake I’m instantly shoved in the shower by Jessica. As stylists do their thing with my hair and makeup, I tell Jessica about the video.

  “You should do it. It’ll be epic!” she exclaims.

  “Have you heard the song?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I was there when they recorded it. Who knew Kip Paxton could sing a woman straight into an orgasm. The boy is fine as hell. All those tattoos… and that lean drummer body, the things I could do to it.”

  I raise my eyebrows in surprise at her.

  “What? Just because you friend zoned him when he was eleven doesn’t mean he isn’t God’s gift to women. I bet that man could fuck you like a whore and then make love to you like you’re an angel all at the same time. He’s got all that silent angst thing going on at the same time he’s funny as shit and a dirty, dirty boy. Then out of nowhere this mother fucker starts playing a guitar and serenading my vagina… I mean a woman’s vagina… hypothetically speaking,” she gushes.

  “Are you crushing on Kip?” I ask curiously.

  “Girl, Kip kissed me when I was sixteen and other than your brother, no man has ever made my toes curl when he kissed me. I’ve crushed on that man off and on since.”

  “You kissed Kip? How did I not know this?”

  “You can’t always kiss and tell bitch,” she explains.

  “You’re seriously nursing a crush on Kip!”

  “Have you seen Kip? Jesus, sometimes I watch him while he’s drumming on stage. Girl when that shirt comes off and sweat drips off his body I have fantasies about licking it off for him. That whole undercut haircut makes the hair on the top of his head really stand out when he rocks out, and I want to hold him to my bosom so I can rake his hair back for him. But make no mistake I’d want that shit hanging down in his face when he’s pounding into me.”

  “I’m not having orgasms with men. Would you stop turning me on?” I plead.

  “You joining Sam’s team?” she asks and I immediately laugh.

  “Why does everyone keep asking me that? I’m only allowed to give myself orgasms. Self-imposed celibacy… cleansing the body and mind,” I explain.

  “You’re fucking insane.”

  “Sex gets me in trouble, it seems,” I admit.

  “Nah girl, sex with a man who lies by omission and says mean shit is trouble. Sex with a man who wants you to be his dirty little secret is trouble. The way I see it is you’re with the wrong men,” she enlightens me.

  “Did you always think they were wrong for me?”

  “No. With Jagger I was happy to see you two together until he hurt you. I forgave him for it once. It took a while but I could put myself in his shoes, and I realized he didn’t want to hurt you, so all of his actions resulted from that. He really tried to be there when you were struggling with drugs, but I don’t think Jagger wanted to make you bette
r. I think Jagger wanted the girl you once were. He didn’t realize it, and I’m sure he still doesn’t. Jag wants the Henley that existed before Caleb died because that’s who he fell in love with as a boy. You’ll never be her again. There’s no way you ever could. You’re almost twenty-eight years old, a far cry from a girl. You, my friend, are a woman who holds immense power and has been through hell and back. That’s shaped who you are, and you should be proud of that. But Jag shames you on your mistakes. Fuck that, he’s no goddamn angel. You saw, you lived, you grew, you conquered, and you became a hell of a woman. He should respect that, but I think subconsciously he resents it.”

  I take in what she says for a moment. “That makes total fucking sense. Where have you been since shit hit the fan with him?”

  “Right by your side girl. It takes me a while to sort out it all out. I don’t think Jag realizes any of it. He needs to realize it to let you go,” she points out.

  “And Ian?”

  “Well that fine piece of ass perplexes even me. The only thing that makes sense is your friendship was built on a good foundation and when things became intimate lines were drawn in the sand, but for reasons unknown to me those lines became blurred.”

  “It happened the night we were filmed… the lines blurred that night. It felt like he came to me looking for more than sex. I didn’t realize it until it was too late, so I was sucked right into it without realizing what was happening. I love Ian, I always have. I just don’t think I’ve ever loved him as anything but a friend. Things were so intense that night, and I was already hurting. Then the video hit the web, and I was so fucking vulnerable. I think I mistook my vulnerability for love or at least a different type of love. I never expected Ian to run from me when it happened. I mean, shit, it takes two to tango, and he’s the one that showed at my place that night. He was so ashamed of me and I just wanted him to stand by my side, or call and tell me it was all going to be okay. He’s always told me it would be okay, gave me insight, and been a great friend.”

  Jessica sighs, “And then he wasn’t. He wasn’t there when you needed him most. He treated you like a pariah, and it hurt. I don’t know what Ian felt that night, all I know is it seems like he came to you to start something he intended to finish until the world was watching you two have sex.”