“Probably did. Anyway I thought you liked this bit of hair I’ve got. Said it was a turn on.”
“It is.”
“Well good.”
“Would it be a turn on if I had more hair?” she asked playfully.
“What do you mean? On your chest?” He craned his neck to look down on her in disgust.
“No, not on my chest. Under here?” She stroked an armpit.
“No. Absolutely not.” Placing his head back firmly on the pillow.
“Are you sure. It’s quite common in Europe you know.”
“Erh, no thank you. I like the hair you’ve got, in just the places it’s meant to be.”
“Are you sure? It wouldn’t take long to grow you know.”
He pulled her over on top of him and putting his hands onto her backside pushed her up to the top of the bed.
“Apart from on your head. I like it here, and here only.” He nuzzled his nose into her, she lifted up slightly so he could lick and suck at her clit. Lathing it until it became a hard nub. “That’s shut you up hasn’t it?” he said, his voice muffled by her folds.
“Hmm,” she moaned, moving slowly and deliberately up and down his tongue.
Chapter Fifteen
“Wow, what a view!”
Eliza and Jonny were visiting the villa and studio Crazy Horse were renting. They had jumped at the chance to hang out with them at their Jamaican crib. Hoping to get the most out of their brief experience on the island. Music seemed to be so integral to the vibe hear and coming to a studio was pretty cool.
“Yeah man. So inspirational. The music and words just flow when we’re here.”
The two guitarists stood looking out over the lush tropical rainforest down to the rugged coast.
“I can imagine.” Jonny taking a swig of the can of Red Stripe.
“So how long you here for?”
“Just over a week. We wanted to chill out before going home. We’ve got a lot going on back in Europe and just needed to kick back a bit.”
“Well this is certainly the place to do it.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Not as a band, no. We’re just needing a different take right now. It’s tough, being around as long as we have. Inspiration is hard to come by these days.”
“Really? You wouldn’t know. You guys rock. Like, which rock band wouldn’t want to have the back catalogue you’ve got?”
“Thanks man. That means a lot.”
Jonny was surprised to hear that even a band like Crazy Horse had their doubts and low points.
“Really got down with your gig in Atlanta.” The Crazy Horse drummer, Blue, joined in the conversation. “You’ve come far since our last time together.” Lifting his head up to Eliza in acknowledgement, “and I don’t think you was even around then Jonny.”
“No. I was with another band then. We were on tour with you though in the UK. Crash?”
“Crash.” The drummer repeated, rubbing his goatee. “No don’t remember. Sorry.”
“Well that says it all really.” Jonny said to Eliza.
“So what are you laying down here. A new album?” Eliza asked.
“Yeah. First one in a couple of years and maybe our last.”
“I can’t see that happening. Your fans will go nuts if this is your last.”
“Well things are moving on out there. All this grunge stuff, it’s not really our thing, man.”
“So how does it work here?”
“We have our own producer who does the mixing and editing. He doesn’t stay with us though. Says he can’t handle it. Don’t know what that means really. But we’ve been around enough to know how to do the basics when we’re writing songs or experimenting with a new sound.”
“Yeah we’ve got a similar set up in a place off the coast of Spain.”
“We’ve been talking whilst we’ve been here though about maybe doing a collab.” Jags changed the subject.
“So how d’ya fancy a go at it?” asked Lex, muscling in on the conversation.
Eliza and Jonny exchanged glances. Both nodding.
“Yeah why not? We could go with that.”
“We’ve already got some stuff laid down that we think would work well with a female voice and could do with some of your Karma vibe.”
“We’ll have to check it out with the other guys, but sounds cool.” Eliza agreed.
“Great. If it’s a goer, then we’ll send it over to your production team and then we’ll do the final mix when you get it back to us.”
They spent the afternoon jamming and chilling. Listening and exchanging stories of life on tour. Fans. Press. Managers. Business. Family. Eliza and Jonny had not been around the industry long enough to trump the old timers with their stories, but there was enough in common to have a good yarn.
Their wives, young children and older offspring from previous marriages were with them. Some of them adults themselves now. Jonny felt like these old timers really had life sussed; mixing work with family, but without either suffering. He thought about how it would work out with him and Eliza. If they ever had a family. Whether they would continue to tour, or even still be in a band. There weren’t many couples in the same band that survived the pressure.
They all clambered in to the two jeeps that came with the rented house and sped off down the narrow road down to the beach; the sunset just minutes away. There were a few tiny, colourful, fishing boats out to sea. Fisherman coming to haul in their lobster pots and check out their days catch before it got dark.
It reminded Jonny of a story he’d read, about a business tycoon that holidayed in an exclusive resort on a remote island in the Pacific. Paying thousands to spend two weeks a year there. He’d gone for a walk along the beach, leaving his wife to top up her tan and drink her own body weight in cocktails by the pool. A few hundred yards from the resort he came across a fisherman. They tycoon stopped to watch the fisherman hauling in his nets and transfer the fish he’d caught into a plastic bucket. Eventually he decided to ask the fisherman what he had caught. “Dinner” the fisherman explained. “Oh,” said the business man. “How long did that take you?” “Not long,” replied the fisherman. “What do you do for the rest of the day?” asked the business man. “Well I play with my kids, have a nap with my wife in the afternoon and then have a few drinks with my mates in the evening.” The tycoon explained his business credentials and explained to the fisherman that if he stayed out at sea all day then he would be able catch much more fish that he could then sell, invest in another boat, hire another fisherman, repeating this until he had built up a successful empire. He could then move into the city and eventually one day, if he worked hard enough he could sell his business and retire. “What would I do then?” asked the fisherman. “Well you could move somewhere by the beach, spend time with your family, see your friends, maybe do a spot of fishing.” “Oh.” Said the fisherman. “Just like I do now then.”
Jonny didn’t know what it meant at the time he first read it or how it related to him. He’d never thought of himself to be the cut-throat money grabbing type, but these last few months he had seen enough of the industry to know that it was easy to get caught up in it all.
They parked up and went along the beach front to a row of brightly painted wooden shacks. Sitting at the white plastic chairs and tables scattered around in front of the shacks, they watched the sun go down over a cold beer. Plates of jerk lobster, steamed lion fish and grilled red snapper shared between them.
Crazy Horse’s kids had brought snorkels with them, and they all piled into the sea. Splashing around, eagerly watched by the mothers who kept tabs on each of the colourful tubes emerging from the sea and the occasional flippers that batted the surface of the water.
“So do you have any experience of scuba diving here?”
“Yeah loads,” replied Jags. “I pretty much dive most weeks back home and we always holiday in the Caribbean.” Pulling his pretty wife onto his lap. “Don’t we hun?”
; “There’s quite a few around here on the north side, but you mainly have to get a boat to get past the reefs to do some deep sea stuff. Are you PADI certified?”
“No, but I hear you can do that whilst you’re here.” He caught Eliza out of the corner of his eye, pursing her lips in distaste.
“Yeah sure. It takes a few days, but there’s loads of courses you can take. If you didn’t want the hassle of that, you can just go snorkeling. The reefs are as good a place as any to dive and you don’t need the scuba kit to do that.” He nodded with his head out to sea. “Look at them, they’re having a great time. No doubt they’ll be seeing all sorts of shit right now.”
Chapter Sixteen
“A lyrical master.” Jonny murmured to himself. Watching Eliza laid quietly in front of him and how the quote he had just read summed her up. He was learning fast about love and the twists and turns of its magic. Just when you think you have it sussed it throws up another dimension on how much deeper you have to open up your heart. The words he had just read crystallised that for him.
No-one offered Jonny advice about love. But then he didn’t think he was the only man to experience that isolation. The conversations he had with other men never extended to the trials and tribulations of their personal relationships. The odd quib maybe. An occasional jibe. But never a full on confession. It just wasn’t the done thing.
And here he was reading a stranger’s view on life and love. Bob Marley. Legend. Taking it all in, finding meaning in it for him and Eliza.
There they were. Another shared experience; another paragraph in their love story. The plot was partly mapped out but who knew for sure that once the scene started rolling that was how it was going to play out.
Jonny was a thinker, if anything he over thought. Worrying about what might or might not happen and laid here now in a hammock in a beautiful setting overlooking the Caribbean he wondered how he had ever got so lucky and whether it was all about to come crashing down around his ears.
They had got up early and transferred from their luxury hotel to a private beach hut. Barely more than a wooden shack. A place of despair in any other climate, but here, it was a simple statement of perfection. It was in the grounds of Whitestar, the villa that Crazy Horse were staying at. Not that it felt that way. It could be miles away from any other civilization. It felt remote. Private. Everything they wanted.
The love of his life was laid on a rug reading a book. Ian Fleming of course. Jonny had bought it at the airport, but handed it to Eliza when he found a solitary bookshelf in the shack packed full of music and reggae writings. He was browsing through a Bob Marley guitar chord song book. He was completely mesmerised by the lyrics and quotes and their deep meaning. A poet. Surely.
Jonny knew this place was magical. Where dreams are created and put down as prose and rhyme. The book shelf crammed with proof of that. He wondered if he could find motivation enough to lay a song down here. The inspiration was certainly there but motivation? It was too relaxing to be motivated to do anything substantial. He might have to bottle the feeling. Lock it away in his creative locker and pull it out when the weather was more grey and the days darker. When there was nothing else to do and song writing seemed like a good idea.
Right now he felt like he should enjoy the moment.
He was laid on his front in a hammock, he dropped his foot to the sand and pushed the hammock into a Newton’s cradle type motion.
Salty smell of the sea, breaking shore with the whitecap, intermingled with dampness from the green lush vegetation around them.
Bird song. Rustling crisp palm leaves. Creaking trunks. Rhythmic wave crashes.
Then there were the colours. Oh the colours. The infinite variations on blue and green. Names for which he was sure didn’t even exist. Not in his vocabulary anyway.
Warmth, brought in on a breeze that whispered across his skin.
He breathed in the taste of coconut and salt.
He had never tried to meditate before, but if he had he was sure it felt like this.
This was a feeling he was going to secure away forever.
Eliza looked around at him. For no reason, other than to look.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” he asked her.
Eliza shrouded her eyes from the glare of the sun and nodded. Too relaxed to even verbalise her agreement.
She folded over the corner of the page and threw her book onto the rug. He helped her stand up. She fastened a wrap around her bikini and donned her favourite floppy hat to shade her head and stop her from getting heat stroke.
“Ooh,” she winced, when she saw Jonny’s back. His tattoo of a winged angel looking more like a phoenix rising from the ashes. “I think you may have overdone it a bit there.” she said as she carefully touched his lower back to test the heat of it. The white pressure mark from her finger taking a few seconds to turn back to the fiery red it had become.
“Umh. Forgot to put sun cream on.”
“What are you like?” she said in a motherly tone. “Wait here I’ll get some lotion.”
She disappeared coming back with a bottle that she squirted unceremoniously onto his back.
“Arghh. Eliza! That’s fucking cold.”
“Oops, sorry,” she sniggered. Smearing it around his lower back and up his searing shoulders.
“Stop. Stop. I think I’ll put a t-shirt on instead.” Taking a sleeveless vest from his bag of clothes.
Eliza shook her head disapprovingly at his choice.
“What’s wrong?”
“It hardly covers your sunburn.”
“Oh.” He pulled out a short sleeve cotton shirt. “This’ll have to do then. But I’m not buttoning it up. It’s too bloody hot.”
They walked along the sand and up to a crop of rocks jutting out into the sea. Clambering over them they came to another little bay. There was a small make shift hut made out of driftwood with a palm leaf thatched roof nestled into the rock face. An old guy was sat on the step into it, stitching together a fishing net.
Jonny waved at him.
They were beckoned over.
As they approached the guy disappeared inside the hut, coming out with an armful of bracelets. Braided twine with a variety of shells and stones woven into the design. Loose threads at the ends where it was intended to tie around the wrist.
Jonny bought a couple. He picked out one for Eliza and she chose one for him. Her’s, white with pink shells, the inside of them pearlescent, iridescent in the bright sunshine. His, black leather. Tiny granite coloured stones, drilled and threaded onto the ends, just above small knots.
They carried on their way to the edge of the cove and around another corner to where a river fell dramatically into the sea.
“Wow,” said Eliza looking up the waterfall. The spray misting her face.
Jonny lifted her to the cliff edge, and then jumped up himself. He took hold of her hand and they climbed up together. The rush of the cold spring water invigorating their skin and taking their breath away. They stopped at the first set of terraces to admire the view down to the sea. As they continued upwards the lush tropical forest grew thicker around them, shading the falls in parts, making the climb up increasingly cooler. They’d reached a large cliff face. Jonny climbed up, the water rushing into his face, forcing him to hold his breath as he pulled himself up through it. At the top was a jade coloured pool and a few metres past that, the waterfall continued. He laid down on his front and lowered his hand for Eliza to grab hold of. She leant backwards holding on to his arm with all her might, whilst he pulled her up. Letting out a little squeal when she thought she might slip down his sun-lotioned arm.
They ventured towards a bubbling part of the jade pool and sat down at the side of it. Catching their breath and enjoying the gurgling natural Jacuzzi on their feet.
“This is just beautiful. It’s like a paradise.” Eliza remarked, fiddling with the granite stones on Jonny’s bracelet.
“Yeah and there’s loads more like this. In fact, th
e pool from the film Blue Lagoon is in Jamaica. It will be a bit busier than here though.”
“Oh, really? I love that film. Hmm. Apart from the bit when she gets her period. I don’t like that part. I remember thinking how any pre-pubescent girl would be horrified watching that scene.”
“And not when she gives birth…?”
“Oh yeah… forgot about that.” She shivered.
“That bad, eh?” Jonny commented on her screwed up face.
“Shall we carry on?” Eliza hauling herself up the side of the pool. Their tranquility broken by a load of school kids coming to cool off during their lunch break.
“Yeah. Think it might be a good idea to find a road or a path to follow back. I don’t think it will be as easy going down the same way we came up.”
“Hmm. Good point. I hadn’t thought of that.”
They headed off in the direction the school kids had emerged from, through the lush undergrowth and down a well-trodden path to the Whitestar estate.
Whilst they had been exploring, the management company had been and left them their supplies for the next couple of days.
An ice box full of treats and beer. A note too, about an excursion they had arranged for the next day.
Eliza delved into the box, passing Jonny a beer and sandwich.
“Let’s sit in the shade. Otherwise we’re gonna end up in bed with sunstroke for the rest of the holiday.”
“I dunno, lying in bed with you for the rest of the week sounds good to me.”
Jonny did as he was told though. He was feeling a little squiffy from the heat.
They sat under the palm tree, the fronds above them rustling in the breeze.
“So what’s the plan when we get back?”
“We need to catch up with the architect. He didn’t send his last update when he was supposed to. Hope everything is alright.”
“I’m sure it will be. They’ve probably just taken their eye off the ball, ‘cos we’re not there jumping up and down. Have we given notice on the apartment in Amsterdam yet?”
“No. I still need to do that. My aunt said she would go and pick up our personal stuff for us if we don’t have time to.”
Loving his ANGEL_A Rock Star Romance Page 11
