Broken (The Guitar Face Series Book 1)

by Sasha Marshall

  “The Henley Hendrix?” he asks. I smile and nod. “I see a number of celebrities here, but this will be a first. Can I take a picture with you?”

  Stephanie takes the picture on the bouncer’s cell. I kiss his cheek, and we enter the bar. I dance the night away with Jagger and my girls. Koi finally asks me to dance, and we spin around the dance area like we did when we were kids. A slower number comes on, and we keep dancing.

  “You look so happy, Henley.”

  “I am.”

  “Happy looks good on you. I have a feeling Carlyle has something to do with it.”

  “He does,” I smile.

  I kiss Koi on the cheek and head to the back of the bar where the ladies’ room is adjacent to an outside area. When I emerge, a man with tattoos crawling up the side of his neck smiles at me. I smile back, but goosebumps travel up the back of my neck. As I turn toward the bar, he grabs me by my elbow and spins me around, pulling me flush against his body. The man smells like cheap gin and cigarettes. He is a little older than me and would’ve been attractive if he wasn’t being a douche. He looks with his dark brown eyes into mine.

  “A girl shouldn’t be out alone in this city dressed the way you are,” he says.

  “I’m not alone. Now, if you will kindly let go of my arm, I will be on my way back to my friends,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “I think we should take a trip into the bathroom there. I’m going to show you what happens to pretty girls who dress like you do.” He leans down and kisses my neck.

  It takes a lot, but the fuse on my temper is getting pretty fucking short. I hate when men think they can be so incredibly rude, handsy, and degrading to women. He’s completely out of line. Even if my ass was hanging out of my dress, he has no right to touch me. He pushes me toward the restroom. I can’t get my arm free, and I’m standing too close to punch him with any force. He has gotten me right inside the restroom door with a push, but I keep digging my heels in. You have to step up into the small room, so he is standing a little farther away, and at the perfect level. I swing my foot up and connect with his balls. He instantly leans over and shouts at me.

  “You fucking whore!”

  Someone picks him up by his hair and drags him out of my view, and the sounds of a man getting his ass kicked quickly follow. I step out of the restroom and close the door. Koi, Rhys, and Jagger are beating the shit out of him.

  Kip runs to me. “You okay?”

  I nod. He has his serious face on, which is a rarity. All of my girlfriends spill into the courtyard behind a few guys who start arguing with Griffin and Cam. I realize this douche bag is their friend. Great! One of them is really large, and before I know it, he punches Griffin in the face. Griffin stumbles back. Once he regains his senses, he lunges at the guy. He quickly takes him down and beats the shit out of him. The second guy pushes Cam. He’s not quite as ballsy as his friend was. Cam utters a warning to him, but before the guy can take a swing, Jessica jumps on his back like a fucking ninja and Stephanie punches him in the throat.

  The guy Griffin is fighting knocks his feet out from under him and stands over Griffin, kicking him. I run across the courtyard, and as Kathrine pushes the guy away from Griffin, I throw a gut punch. Samantha kicks the back of his knees, bringing him to the ground, and Kathrine kicks him in the balls. Griffin lands the last punch that knocks his attacker’s ass out cold. I turn around to see the guy Stephanie is fighting duck and attempt a punch. She steps out of it, lands the most incredible undercut you’ve ever seen, and knocks his ass out. She looks really hot doing it too.

  The smaller man of the three grabs me by the throat, and I lose all sanity. I bring my knee up to his balls, and he releases my throat. I punch him in his own throat and then land the hardest punch I can to the gut. Samantha kicks his knees out from under him, and I kick him backward where he lands. I jump on top of the little shit and punch him over and over again. His face is covered in blood.

  Someone attempts to pull me off him from under my arms, and I shake off the hands and punch the asshole some more. I feel several hands go around me, and I’m lifted off the bastard. I kick my feet trying to get free, and someone grabs those too.

  I’m put down moments later, and Jag wraps his arms around me tightly. “Stop fighting me, Henley.”

  “Fuck you,” I say. Okay, that wasn’t nice, and the fight leaves me.

  Kip bursts out laughing. “She weighs like a buck fifteen, and it took five of you to pull her off. That’s great. Can we do it again?”

  Jag loosens his grip, and the scene in the courtyard unfolds in front of me. Several of my guys are bleeding, but the four guys who fought our group are lying on the ground. Two are knocked out cold, and the other two are rolling around, groaning in pain. We all burst into laughter. This isn’t our first rodeo.

  A big burly middle-aged man steps into the courtyard. “All of you, out. Now!”

  Koi steps in his face. “Fuck you! That motherfucker was pushing my sister into a bathroom, trying to rape her. We pulled him off her only after she kicked him in the balls. These other three motherfuckers started with my friends. They threw the first punches. You want us out... fine!”

  Koi steps toward the bar when a burly man stops him. “Dude. I didn’t know. I will have them thrown out. You’re Koi Hendrix, right?”

  “Yes, I’m Koi fucking Hendrix, but that doesn’t have a goddamn thing to do with this. Did you not hear me? He was pushing her into a bathroom. Why don’t you have security back here? This is a breeding ground for motherfuckers like this to hurt women.”

  “Mr. Hendrix, I apologize for this. I will have security here from now on. Are you injured, Ms. Hendrix?” he asks. I give a shake of my head. “I’ll call the authorities. Please enjoy the rest of your night on the house.”

  The cops show up, and we all give our statements. The four men are arrested, and I know this will more than likely hit the media. Stephanie cleans up Rhys’s cuts while Kathrine cleans up Cam’s, and both of the men look like they might be in love, or lust, whichever. Kip is attempting to persuade Jagger to punch him, so I will clean up his wounds. When the cops leave, we take the burly man up on his offer. We drink like fish.

  Kip takes over the next toast. “May women with stubble, at least have big bubbles.”

  We dance the night away without any further harassment. I notice Cam is cozying up to Kathrine. It makes me smile. Cam had his heart broken six years ago by his high-school sweetheart, and I haven’t seen him date anyone since. I don’t know why I never thought to put those two together. Cam is perfect for Kathrine. Both are incredibly artistic, quiet, and huge Saints fans. And Rhys is following Stephanie around like a lost puppy dog. Stephanie is a gorgeous, take-no-prisoners tattoo artist, and Rhys is covered in more tattoos than anyone I know. Both of them love to draw, and Rhys loves a woman who won’t put up with his shit.

  “I can see the wheels turning, baby. Are you planning their weddings yet?” Jagger asks as we dance.

  “Not quite, but I probably should. I can’t figure out why I didn’t set those couples up sooner. Do you think they would be opposed to a double wedding?” I ask.

  “Because you have been really busy being a rock goddess and making the world fall in love with you,” he says. “Speaking of, have I told you how beautiful you are tonight, or how much I love you?”

  “No. You haven’t.” I smile.

  “You, my love, are the most beautiful woman on earth. You look good enough to eat tonight, and I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, baby. You also look good enough to eat. Have I ever told you what it does to me when you wear a suit?”

  “No, but you should.”

  “Do you remember when Clay and Becca married in February?”

  “Yeah, I do. It took me an hour to work up the nerve to ask you to dance at the rece
ption,” he confesses.

  “You wore a pinstriped suit with a baby-blue tie that matched your beautiful eyes. Stephanie and I sat at our table discussing the naughty things we would do to you if ever given the chance. I was so worked up by the time you asked me to dance, I wanted to take every piece of clothing off of you, except for that blue tie,” I spill.

  “What sort of naughty things? What does the tie have to do with that?”

  “Control. I can lead you around by the tie and direct you when needed.”

  “Continue. I like dominant Henley.” He beams down at me with those crystal-blue eyes and a panty-dropping smile.

  Quick, I check to make sure my panties aren’t around my feet.

  Before I can continue, the bar announces last call. We settle tabs and management apologizes for the earlier events once again. The group takes our loud, drunk, obnoxious selves back to The W. I jump on Jag’s back, and he carries me into the lobby.

  As we enter the elevator, I whisper in his ear, “Please tell me you don’t have whiskey dick.”

  The car is crowded with our friends, but he barks an order. “Out! Everybody is getting the fuck out right now.”

  They all groan and exit the car. As soon as the door closes, he jacks me against the wall and runs his hands up my dress. He kisses me so hard, my lips hurt. I’m too drunk to care though. He grinds into me, and when the elevator pings to signal we have reached our destination, he grabs me by the hips as I wrap my legs tightly around him. We fumble to his room with his mouth never leaving mine. He somehow manages to pull the key card out and open the door. He shoves it open so forcefully, it bangs the wall behind it. He carries me through the threshold and uses his foot to slam the door shut. We pass through the living room into his room. He slams the door closed with his foot again, and my back is against it in a nanosecond. He reaches under my dress, pulls my panties down, and then rips them off, leaving them hanging on one leg by a thread. I hear him dig a foil out of his pants, and then the beautiful sound of his zipper making its way down fills the air. His mouth never leaves mine, and he thrusts into me without notice and proceeds to fuck me hard. I moan into his mouth, and he growls back. Jagger Carlyle definitely does not have whiskey dick.

  My arms hold onto his neck, and he pounds into me, the door bouncing against the frame each time he thrusts.

  “Henley, you feel so good.”

  I moan against his whisper. He stops kissing me and looks into my eyes as he continues to fuck me, and I look back into his. He grunts through his pleasure, and I feel like I’m the queen of the entire fucking world at this moment. He puts his hands on my back and lifts me from the door. We fall onto the bed, but he pulls out. No, no, no, put it back!

  “Over,” he demands.

  Yes, sir! I flip over, he grabs me by the hips, and pulls my ass into the air. He thrusts into me again and fucks me doggy style. He continues to pound into me mercilessly. He can’t get enough, and neither can I. I moan his name, and he says some really naughty things in my ear. He says I’m a bad girl. I guess I will have to be bad more often. He reaches down and grabs a handful of hair, which brings my upper body up just enough for him to hit that spot. He knows what he’s doing.

  “I want to feel you come on my cock,” he growls.

  That did it. I erupt around him, and I’m pretty sure I scream. When I come down from my blissful high, he is still pounding into me. I reach between my legs and cup his balls. It does the trick. His dick jumps, and then he calls out my name. Well, more like screams, but hey, who’s pointing out the difference?

  He pulls out of me, and I collapse facedown into the bed, still fully clothed. Who needs to take their clothes off for sex? We don’t have time for that shit.

  I MUST HAVE dozed off not long after my face hit the bed. I feel Jagger moving my body.

  “Come on, baby, we have to get you out of these clothes.”

  I just groan. I’m fine in my clothes. I’m drunk and have just been fucked senseless.

  “Come on, baby, help me out here.”

  I open my eyes, and he smiles when I do. “You are kinda grumpy when you’re sleepy,” he says.

  “I’ve never claimed to be a morning person.”

  I lift my hands up so he can take my dress off. He removes my shoes and the torn underwear from my leg, and he dresses me in panties and cute little boxers. He takes my bra off and throws a Broken Access T-shirt over my head.

  “You really need to try to eat before you sleep again. We also need to get some water and Advil in you. Come on, I have some food on the balcony.”

  I follow him to the balcony in a drunken, sleepy daze. He hands me a glass of water when I sit and opens the plate of food for me. Eggs, bacon, waffles, and fruit stare back at me, and I devour them. I try not to sleep on an empty, alcohol-filled belly, and I’m thankful he knows me so well. He hands me Advil and another glass of water when I clean my plate. Jag climbs behind me on the lounger, and I lay back on his chest. We smoke several cigarettes in silence.

  “Did I hurt you?” he asks with concern in his voice.

  “No Jagger, you didn’t hurt me. I don’t break easily.”

  “You sure?”

  “Jagger that is the hottest sex I have ever had in my life, and we were both fully clothed. I’m very sure.”

  The balcony door opens, and Jessica emerges. The woman can smell bacon from a mile away.

  “You ate it all?” she asks.

  “Yeah, but I will order you more. What else do you want?” Jagger asks.

  I love when he takes care of my friends. He always has, even before we dated.

  “I want eggs, bacon, waffles, French toast, fruit, mimosa, water, coffee, and ham if they have it,” she says wiping her sleepy eyes.

  “Jesus Christ, where do you put it all?” Jagger asks.

  “I’m a black girl. My gorgeous ass, of course,” she exclaims, and we chuckle.

  The room service arrives about twenty minutes after Jagger ordered it. The three of us haven’t spoken much. Jag and I smoke and enjoyed the night air. Jagger did say it was five in the morning, so I must’ve fallen asleep for a couple of hours before he woke me. We arrived at the hotel around two.

  Jessica pushes her food away when she is done, and Samantha joins us on the balcony.

  “Food,” she grumbles. Jagger picks up the phone and orders more room service.

  “Let me explain something to you two. I’m gay, and I do not want to hear hot and steamy heterosexual sounds coming from that room for the remainder of my stay,” Samantha says, scrunching her nose in disgust.

  “She’s just mad because she got all hot and bothered, and I wouldn’t have sex with her. I rather enjoyed hearing it. I mean I kept thinking, ‘How much longer can he possibly go?’ but you just kept fucking and fucking. Then I got jealous. I’ve never been fucked like that, and it depresses me. Woe is me, and my vagina,” Jessica says.

  “Thank you, I think,” Jag says.

  “Oh, it is a compliment, buddy. I just want to bottle up some that stamina and pour it down the throats of all the men I knock boots with from here on out.” She laughs.

  “What is your deal with heterosexual lovin’, Sam?” Jagger asks. Uh oh. I know where this conversation is going.

  “There are two heterosexuals who once did that nasty deed, and I was the result of the encounter. I’m perfectly okay with that particular instance of straight sex. It produced me. However, there is never any need for it to happen again,” Samantha deadpans.

  “If straight people quit having sex, there would be no babies to grow into hot women for you lesbians,” he points out.

  “Very valid point. And it is so incredibly insightful, that I have changed the error of my ways. I’m okay with any straight sex that produces hot-ass women.”

  “If all
straight sex produces hot women, then there are no boys to make more hot women,” Jagger continues.

  “Damn you, Jagger Carlyle, and your room service, and your reason! I feel like I don’t even know who I am anymore,” she says. “Will you hold me, Jessica?” She feigns a cry.

  Jessica holds up her fork. “Bitch, you are a damn fine woman, but you can’t do anything for my girly parts. I like to put things in it.”

  “I have a massive strap on.”

  Jessica thinks for a beat. “Define massive.”

  “I’m going to bed. You enjoy the food,” I say.

  Chapter 16

  THE REST OF THE stay in New Orleans is entertaining and lively. All twelve of us have a spa day the following morning to nurse our hangovers. Jagger and I stay in that evening and watch movies. The rest of the days are filled with shopping and food. Broken Access has several interviews in the city. The fight at the bar is all over the media, so Samantha and Jessica spend some time cleaning that up. The guy who started the altercation is charged with attempted rape, assault and battery, and violation of probation. He has already served jail time for rape in years prior. That piece of knowledge makes me realize how lucky I am. His buddies are charged with accessory in addition to assault and battery.

  The manager from Maison Bourbon issued a statement to the public, citing the altercation began as a result of the man assaulting me. The media spun all the guys from the two bands as the knights of rock-’n’-roll who saved a damsel in distress, and it did nothing to dampen Jagger’s reputation. Women across the globe shared just how turned on they were by the rockers fighting in a bar. The fact that they came to a damsel in distress’s aid only made it worse. Kip and Rhys are thoroughly enjoying the attention.

  I see potential couples breaking off to be alone. Cam and Kathrine spend a great deal of time together. He is so attentive to her and treats her well. When the girls say goodbye on Saturday night in New Orleans, they both look equally sad. I catch Koi looking at Jessica several times and find she is oblivious to it, which is unlike her. He continually places himself directly by her every moment he can. Griffin is spending time with Meghan, and I have a feeling those two saw some action.