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Axton steps up to the mic with a smile that no doubt wets
women’s panties. “We have some songs for you.” He pauses to let the responding
roar of the crowd die down. As it does, a woman wolf whistles, and he turns his
head to wink at her, making the audience lose it. Thunder booms again, and he
smiles. “You aren’t going to let some rain run you off, are you?” While
the cheers and screams drown out everything again, he steps back, motions to
Elliot and they begin to play.
I’ve streamed his music. I’ve heard him practice and sing at home. His talent
was never in doubt, but this…I can’t even describe the experience. Everything
else falls away. It’s fully dark outside and he’s backlit by deep blue lights
as his voice raises goosebumps on my skin. The song builds and he moves around
the stage like he’s part of it, like every inch belongs to him. His face
contorts with such passion as he belts out the powerful chorus, then relaxes
when the verse resumes in his low, soulful croon.
Eyes closed. Wet hair hanging in his face. So much emotion.
The crowd is as silent as I’ve heard them all day, hanging on every sound he
makes. The drums kick in and the lights flash in tandem. His face is
illuminated in a spotlight as he sings the last verse with more intensity,
jumping and moving with the music as if he’s possessed by it.
He’s like a different being up there. There’s some sort of…magic. A force that
seems to wrap around him, to cloak the entire crowd and pull everyone into that
space with him. Into a world where he’s all that exists.
My throat tightens as I listen, my gaze glued to the man I’ve only recently
managed not to despise. But who could fight against this? His voice is ecstasy
charged by summer thunder, sweet agony wrapped in desire. It holds the promise
of feverish love and whispered, filthy things.
The way the crowd reacts to him, reaches for him, the sobbing and screams, I
understand it now. He’s chaos and calm, heady and all consuming.
And they fucking love it.
I’m a full time author who is hopelessly addicted to iced
coffee, love stories, sunshine, and men with full sexy lips, though not
necessarily in that order. A voracious reader since I sounded out my first
word, I started writing as a teenager and rediscovered my love of writing as an
adult. Originally from Indianapolis, I now live in a small Kentucky town with
my college age son.
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