Broken (The Guitar Face Series Book 1)

by Sasha Marshall

  I ain’t telling you shit, Sparky. You can continue doing exactly what you are doing.

  He begs again. “Henley, you have to tell me to stop if you don’t want this. If we go any further, I won’t be able to stop.”

  “Shut up, Jagger.” I kiss him with everything I have.

  He carries me to his bed and gently lays me down. He slows down the pace for whatever reason, so I go with it. There isn’t an inch of my body, he doesn’t touch or kiss. I think we are both overdressed for the occasion, so I pull his shirt off. I push him on his back and begin licking, kissing, and sucking on his chest and abs. I get all the way to his belly button and follow his happy trail down. While I kiss, I unbutton his jeans and unzip his fly. I can feel him bulging through his jeans. I yank at his pants and boxers, and he lifts his ass so I can pull them down. I put him in my mouth and suck slowly. I don’t want him to come yet. He watches me. I must say... hot!

  He pulls me back up to him and rolls me on my back. He takes my shirt and pants off. He slowly unhooks my bra and removes it. He shows my girls some slow, naughty attention. I never knew my nipples could feel so damn good. As he licks his way down my stomach, he reaches down and rips my panties off. Seriously, I read that men do that shit all the time in books, but he really did it. It is way fucking hotter in person. Before he gets to the bottom of my abs, he begins pushing on my inner thighs, so they will fall open for him and boy, do they. I swear they have a mind of their own. He begins on the inside of my right knee and slowly kisses all the way down until he hits my.... Oh, God, his tongue is the most amazing thing I have ever felt. He licks and teases and even grazes his teeth on my lips. Moans escape me and my back arches in response, which only makes him even more anxious. He pulls his face out of my apex and reaches for his jeans. He pulls out a foil wrapper and rolls it on his length.

  He lays down on top of me, touching his hand to my cheek. He looks into my eyes, and I know right then I’m the only thing in his world.

  “Hen,” he says, struggling to find his words. “Hen, I can’t do this without telling you what it means. I can’t do this...”

  I cut him off. “Jagger, just say whatever it is, baby.”

  He sighs. “I love you, Henley. I’m in love with you.”

  My heart literally stops. He said it. He feels it too.

  I say the only thing I can. “I love you too.”

  He smiles, a little shocked. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  He leans down and begins a slow assault of kisses. He takes his sweet time, and then finally, I feel him reach down and guide him into me. He takes his time here, too. He feels so good inside me. He reaches up and pushes my hands above my head and holds each one with his own hands. Our breathing becomes ragged, but he never speeds up. He keeps the same gentle pace the entire time. I get so close and so frustrated. I fear I won’t be able to make it over the edge. I push against our hands that are still interlocked, and I roll him over on the bed. I mount him and began a slow grind. I miss kissing him, so I pull him up to me. While he sits up in the bed, I continue grinding on him. We rarely break the kiss. I lean back to get more traction, and he kisses my chest and sucks on my nipples. It gets me even closer. I pull my body back up to his and kiss him.

  He growls again, and the pace is picked up just enough to give me the friction I need. With his hands guiding my hips, it only takes a few minutes before I find an earth-shattering orgasm. I call out his name and moan through the oblivion that finds me. He comes right after I do, and he whispers my name through his growls. He jerks a few times as ecstasy tears through him and extends my own release.

  I collapse on his shoulder, and together, we fall back on the bed. A combination of touring, my raw emotion for Jagger, and my slow journey back to music leaves me in an exhausted heap. I fall asleep on top of him.

  Chapter 14

  MY MORNINGS ARE always a comedy show. But today, I wake to a hot, tan, godlike collection of muscles draped over me. I’m cocooned in Jagger. The night’s events hit me like a bitch slap in the face. I panic for a minute, and then I remember he told me he loves me. I returned the endearment. That calms me down. Jagger loves me, and I love him right back. The sex was amazing, and it is hands down the best I have ever experienced. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had plenty of amazing lovers. But Jag quickly took the number one position last night.

  There is banging on the bedroom door. Randy has his own room this go ’round, so who the hell can it be? I will give you three guesses, and the first two don’t count. The banging continues. Go away. Then the hotel phone rings. Jagger grunts and turns over to his side of the bed to answer the phone.

  “Yeah?” he says, his voice all sexy and raspy.

  I can hear Koi through the receiver. “Hen with you?”

  “Yeah. She stayed with me last night,” Jag answers.

  Uh oh.

  “Fuck. Well, all right. She okay?” He is clearly struggling with this.

  “Yeah man. She’s good,” Jag says.

  “You might want to deal with our maniac drummer. He came back looking for her last night. He wanted guitar lessons after he had enough alcohol to kill three large men. You know how he is when he gets something in his head. He slept on the couch in my suite last night, but he’s gone now.” Koi’s voice is interrupted by the incessant knocking at the door.

  “I think he’s at the door,” Jag says and laughs.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Koi says with a chuckle.

  “My sweet precious cinnamon roll, it is time for our guitar lessons. I need you! I should write a song about that,” Kip says.

  “Fuck off, Kip,” Jag yells.

  “Is she naked?” Kip asks.

  Jagger smiles at me. “Yup.”

  “Can I see a boob? Just one? Just a little nip?” Kip begs.

  “Fuck off, Kip,” I yell.

  “I like it when the sailor comes out in you. It gives me wood,” Kip says.

  “We’d better get dressed, babe. He won’t stop until we open that door.”

  “Fuck that. If there isn’t coffee on the other side of the door, he can wait,” I reply.

  “Did you bring her coffee, jackleg?” Jagger asks.

  There is a pause. “Shit. No. I will be back.” I hear the suite door open and close, and Kip is gone.

  “How did he get in your suite?” I ask.

  “He probably flashed those dimples at housekeeping and gave them some ridiculous story that only Kip can make up, and boom, he has access.”

  “That’s scary.”

  “Indeed.”

  Jagger and I jump in the shower, and soap each other up, to clean all the dirty off from last night... and the subsequent shower fuck session this morning. He is such an amazing lay. I’m washing the conditioner out of my hair when the bathroom door opens.

  “I brought you a coffee, pumpkin,” Kip says.

  Through the frosted glass, I can see Kip sit down on the toilet seat. You have to be fucking kidding me. He has no boundaries.

  “What are you doing, Kip?”

  “Well, my blueberry muffin, I got you a coffee. When I returned, you didn’t answer the bedroom door, so I opened it, and heard the shower. I knew it would make you happy if I handed you the cup as soon as you exited the shower. I even have you a cigarette, lighter, and ashtray.”

  “That’s my thing,” Jag says defensively.

  “Don’t start getting all jealous of us now,” Kip says.

  Jag exits the shower and grabs a towel from the rack.

  “Jesus Christ! Your dick should have its own zip code,” Kip exclaims.

  “Turn around, freak,” Jagger says. Kip must’ve hesitated. “Henley is getting out in a sec, and you are not going to eye fuck her. You will turn around and face the door, so you can’t see her in
the mirror either. Understand?”

  “Geez. You are so serious in the morning. I’ll just wait on the bed for her. She’ll know where to find me.”

  I hear the bathroom door open and close, so I turn the shower off. Jagger hands me a towel. I dry my hair with the crappy hotel blow dryer while he retrieves my luggage from Koi’s suite. When he returns, I dress in shorts and a tube top. I twist my hair up and emerge for my morning coffee.

  Kip is waiting impatiently on the other side of the door when I open it. “I had to microwave it, so it is still hot. Who’s the man?”

  I kiss him on the cheek and go to the balcony for my morning cigarette where Jagger is waiting for me. Kip follows, and we all light up and enjoy the morning sun. New Orleans is blistering hot and humid in the summer, but I love it. I’ve lived in the Deep South my entire life, and I prefer the hot weather over the cold. I put my cigarette out and find my makeup bag so I can apply my war paint.

  I hear a knock on the suite door, followed by excited voices. I apply mascara and saunter into the living room suite to check things out. When I enter the living room, Griffin, Rhys, Samantha, Jessica, Stephanie, Meghan, and Kathrine are hugging Kip and Jagger. Holy shit. My people are here. My bandmates and my best girlfriends are here! I throw myself into their hugs.

  “What the hell?” I ask. No one said a word about coming to New Orleans.

  Jagger wraps his arms around me from behind. “It is tradition for us to dress up 1920s style and unleash debauchery onto New Orleans. We can’t do it right if they aren’t here, love,” he says.

  I see the looks on my girl’s faces. Yup, they are adjusting to seeing us together, and if their faces are any indication, I detect a wee bit of jealousy.

  “Me and the fellas are going to find Koi and Cam. It will give you girls a chance to catch up,” Jag says.

  He kisses me on the lips and leaves.

  “I’m not sitting in the middle of a sausage fest. I’m staying here with all the beautiful ladies,” Kip winks.

  “Get your ass moving,” Jagger says.

  Once the door closes, the squealing begins.

  “How big is it, bitch?” Stephanie asks.

  “Jesus, I missed you too.” I pause for a bit and look at the impatient faces around me. “Let’s just say he is a shower, not a grower,” I say, and they squeal again. Apparently, I didn’t let them down with that knowledge.

  “His ass is so fine. I can’t believe you finally fucked Jagger Carlyle. I need details. What does Daddy like?” Jessica asks.

  “I don’t want to hear about straight sex,” Samantha says, ever the token lesbian in the room.

  I catch up with my girls. The guys are gone for about an hour, and I know Jag is letting me catch up. I appreciate how thoughtful he is. We talk about the tour, the shows, Noah, playing again, and itching to record. I grew up with each of these girls. We are quite the sixsome. We grew up in a very conservative city where liberalism isn’t always the norm. I feel as though my beautiful city is behind in the times. We are all tattooed, strong, independent women who could give a shit what anyone else thinks.

  Jessica is my personal assistant. She never gave up the position after we lost Caleb; she did an amazing job of protecting me from all the media bullshit after he died. She’s had more time at home these last four years, but I know she misses traveling the world. Samantha is my publicist. I hired her after she finished college with a public relations degree. I gave her the money to start up her own firm, and she represents Koi and the guys as well. She also represents my grandfather and several other high-profile names. She has offices in Atlanta and Los Angeles, mainly dealing with the rich and famous. Stephanie is a tattoo artist in Macon at Redemption Tattoo Parlour, and she and her partner Chris do all of my work. Their work is phenomenal.

  Kathrine runs my grandfather’s foundation. She is always planning charity events to raise money for music in our city and surrounding counties. She raises the money and then liaisons with school districts to implement music programs for the students. The foundation provides instruments, accessories, and sheet music. She has recently implemented a free afterschool program for students to receive music lessons from local musicians. It’s highly successful. Meghan is an attorney. Her work is also based in both Atlanta and Los Angeles. Her parents are best friends with my parents, and we grew up together since we are so close in age. She is the one who suggested I backpack through Europe as therapy. She knew what I needed better than I did.

  When the suite door opens, Koi walks through, pushing a cart full of food. Jag, Kip, Cam, Griffin, and Rhys follow behind, each with a cart of food. Hotel staff follows with folding chairs. I’m pretty sure it was Jagger and Koi’s idea to bring us breakfast. They always spoil us girls. Each one lights a candle in the middle of the cart, pours us a mimosa, and asks us to sit. I sit with Jag, Jessica with Koi, Stephanie with Rhys, Kathrine with Cam, Meghan with Griffin, and Samantha with Kip.

  We sit in the small space and enjoy our friends. Rhys gives Kip a run for his money in the funny man department. The comic relief with this group is almost more than a person can bear. After breakfast, our large group spends the day in the French Quarter. We shop, eat, and drink. At six, Koi suggests we head back to the hotel and get ready for the night. The girls take over Jag’s suite, while the guys dress in Koi’s.

  This particular group of rock stars always looks hot when it dresses up. The 1920s tradition began in our late teen years, and these guys go all out. Their suits are complemented with a vest, white button-up shirt, a tie, and either a derby hat or a fedora.

  Girls have so many options for the flapper look. Stephanie and Samantha do our makeup. I opt for finger waves and a cloche hat. My dress has black ruching over a solid gray slip, and black sequins are sewn into designs on the sleeveless number. It has a scoop neckline, a dropped waistline, and a deep V-cut in the back. My girls look amazing. We all found dresses during today’s shopping expedition. Once the women are all dolled up, a knock comes at the door. I open it to see six men who look as though they walked straight out of The Great Gatsby. Sexy men!

  Jagger leans into the door frame and smiles that big smile that drips with sex. Let me lick that up for you, sir. I look down to my ankles to make sure my panties aren’t on the floor. He grabs my hand as he walks through the door, and I follow him to the extra bedroom, where he closes the door behind us.

  “I thought this would be perfect with your dress,” he says and pulls several jewelry boxes from his pockets. He opens the boxes to reveal the sapphire and silver pieces I looked at the day before. He even bought the hairpins.

  “Oh my God,” I say and cover my mouth in shock.

  I know what the merchant wanted for the jewelry, and while I may be rich, I wasn’t willing to spend that much on these pieces. I hope Jagger didn’t either. I don’t mention it though. The smile on his face tells me how much thought he put into this gift and bringing my favorite people to New Orleans. He really does listen to everything I say.

  “They are gorgeous, Jagger.”

  “May I?” he asks, and I nodded permission.

  He places the bracelet on my arm and the necklace around me. He removes my earrings and places the antique pair in.

  “I would put these in, but I would mess your hair up,” he says, holding the hairpins out to me. I face the mirror to put the pins in and take a long look in the mirror and appreciate the true beauty of the jewelry and the man standing behind me. I turn to him and lean into a thank-you kiss. He kisses me back roughly and picks me up by my ass to place me on the dresser behind us. He deepens the kiss, and I begin to think our friends will be going out without us. I place my hand on his abs and run them up and down, taking in every inch of spectacular muscle.

  The door opens suddenly, and Jessica and Samantha come through, unaware we are occupying it. The chatter stops betwee
n them.

  “Oh dear God, I want one,” Jessica says.

  “I’m gay, and I even have to admit that is pretty fucking hot,” Samantha adds.

  “Sorry, girls. I’m taken,” Jagger says after he breaks our kiss.

  “The passion is so thick in here, this entire hotel floor was just turned on.” Jessica fans herself.

  “I got serious lady wood,” Sam says.

  “Stop smiling like that, Jagger Carlyle, or I will bend you over my knee, and whip you like the bad, bad boy you are.” Jessica winks.

  Stephanie enters the room. “You wouldn’t know where to begin spanking a man like that, girl. Come to mama, Jag,” she orders.

  “It’s like having an entire room full of female Kips,” Jagger says, and we all burst into fits of laughter.

  “You ready to go, love?” Jagger says with a look of adoration. The girls and I all exhale in a collective sigh.

  “I really do want one,” Jessica says.

  Chapter 15

  WE ENTER THE lobby and heads turn as the beautiful people in my group stride through. Samantha asks one of the staff members to take our picture with her camera, and we all gather in front of the 1920s-era hotel bar. Some of us sit on the bar, some on bar stools, and the guys either stand or kneel. The pose turns out amazing. I can’t wait to convert it to black and white to give it a more 1920s vibe.

  Jagger holds my hand as we walk down Bourbon Street, which is enough to make my heart skip a beat. We crowd into Fritzel’s and order shots and beer.

  Rhys holds his shot glass out for a toast. “Eeny meeny miny moe. May these shots reveal the ho!”

  We all cheer and clink glasses. Didn’t I say Rhys would give Kip a run for his money? We drink at Fritzel’s for a couple of hours and then walk to Maison Bourbon, which is my second favorite bar in New Orleans.

  Jazz is flowing out of the doors when we arrive. The bouncer checks our IDs and gives our group and me a second look.