Their first song really takes off, and Colt’s voice echoes across the stadium, along with the crowd, who are all singing along. It’s awkward that I don’t know the lyrics, but I can move my body, so I do that while taking everything in.
His voice washes over me like a cold sweat burning my insides and freezing my outsides. His deep, sexy tone is doing preciselywhat Sia said it would. I tighten my thighs as a throbbing ache for him develops, and I can see on the faces of every other woman in here that the same thing’s happening to them.
From the crowd’s reaction, there’s no doubt as to how popular they are. Between the energy all around and the effect Colt has on me, it’s not hard to get caught up. I’m in awe of his presence and the way he works with his fans. He wasn’t lying when he said he lives and breathes music. He was born for this.
Each song, every minute they are on stage, is like seeing my world through different lenses. The vibe, the atmosphere, and the downright sexual tension in every song make me want to combust.
What feels like half an hour is more like three hours, and the last song of the night is about to start. Colt begins playing, and instantly, I know the song. It’s “Rapture,” the one that has spent the last six weeks at the top of the charts. I hadn’t believed him when he said this was his band’s song. But now, as the unmistakable melody fills the air, I know it’s true. This song is huge.
A thrill rushes through me as I get swept up in the excitement of finally knowing a song I can sing along to. I throw my hands in the air, close my eyes, and let the music take over. The pounding rhythm, the electrifying energy—it all makes me feel weightless, free, like I’m becoming one with the sound.
When I open my eyes, my breath catches. Colt is looking right at me as he sings. A giddy rush swirls in my chest, making me feel like a teenager with her first crush.
He kneels on the stage, his hand skimming over the sea of reaching fans. And then—he’s in front of me. Instinctively, I lift my hand higher. His fingers wrap around mine, firm and warm. Slowly, deliberately, he turns my hand and presses a kiss to my palm.
The girls around me erupt in screams, but all I can do is smile.
Colt winks before rising to his feet, his voice soaring as he finishes the song.
Colt makes me feel things I haven’t before, and I like it.
I like everything about this feeling.
It’s euphoric.
12GAUGE-Slayedleave the stage, then, much to everyone’s delight, they return for an encore. The excitement buzzing around the arena is something I have never witnessed. It’s at a whole new level of crazy mixed with supercharged adrenaline-fueled exhilaration. This is a night Iwon’tforget. The dullness of my existence will be hard to return to. It’s funny how you never know something’s missing until it smacks you fair and square in the face.
The concert wraps up, and I have to say, my first rock concert experience will definitely not be my last, no matter what Daddy or anyone else has to say about the matter.
Sia takes my arm, and we’re ushered backstage. I feel high, and I don’t want to come down.
Now I understand all the hype around thecrazy minionsout there. I always thought being high was about drugs, but you can be high without them.
We are walking down the hallway toward the Slayette room when I hear someone calling my name. I spin and watch Colt jogging toward me.
“Oh my goodness, Colt, that was simply amazing,” I yell out before he reaches me.
He jogs faster, then, when he’s close enough, he slams into me, picks me up, and twirls me around. He’s all sweat and heat, but somehow it makes him even more delicious, and I squeal from his overexcitement.
“It was so much better singing to you tonight. Dee, you’re my muse.” He looks me up and down after he places me back on thefloor. “Holy fuck, Dee. I dig the new look. One word. H.O.T. hot,” he divulges.
I giggle while I hold onto his bulging, sticky biceps. “Seriously, Colt, I’ve never experienced anything like that in my life. Thank you so much for bringing me into your world. It’s so completely different from mine, and I absolutelylovedevery minute of it,” I say honestly as he brings me in and embraces me tightly. Hugging him back, I nuzzle into his neck.Oh, wow. He smells so good, like a mixture of his cologne, sweat, and his natural musky scent—compelling and dynamic.
How have I not noticed that before?
“C’mon, let’s go to the after-party,” Colt says, pulling back from me and taking my hand.
Oh my goodness, this man can walk fast because I’m being pulled along so quickly that I’m slightly stumbling at times. I don’t know if it’s because of the adrenaline from the show, but I’m not used to this quick-paced lifestyle.
“Colt, slow down,” I say, then he turns to look at me.
“Sorry, I’m on a high from the show,” he replies, slowing down to a normal walking pace.
We stop at his dressing room so he can shower quickly and change into fresh clothes. While he’s in the shower, I take the opportunity to turn on my cell to check some of the many messages, and when I do, I wish I hadn’t. Knowing if I read them, it will spoil any chance I have of having fun, so I switch it back off and shove it in my pocket.
That mess can wait until tomorrow!
Colt takes very little time and smells delicious when he walks out in distressed jeans and his trusty black tank top. Once again, with the speed of a gazelle, we race to the back door, the one we came through earlier in the evening, and walk straight into the stretch Hummer.
