For the Love of Dixie (Kings of Chaos 3) - Page 76

“As much as I’d love to throw you on the bed and keep you there, we both need to clean up and get on the road.” He kisses my temples and pulls away.

We clean up and I follow him silent, boneless, and satiated. I’m stunned when he hails a cab outside the hotel.

“Trust me, neither of us is going to want me on the road later on tonight.”

“Tease,” I say, pouting.

He laughs. “Now, we both know I always deliver. I just like to make you wait for me.” We climb in and he gives the driver an address I’m not familiar with.

We pull around the corner and I catch the marquee on a theater. “Oh, my God—you didn’t!” The black words announce Machine Gun Kelly appearing tonight.

“I did, baby. I know how much you love him.”

“Oh my God.” I haven’t been to a concert in ages. Another thing we shared a love for was music. Nothing expressed my feelings of frustration, rage, and isolation like hip hop music. I think that’s why I gravitated toward it, and Echo got that. His fondness for the music genre was one of the many marks our time together left on him.

He pays the cabbie, and we step into the short line. “They have a bar and grill, so I figured we’d catch something to eat, pre-game, and grab a good spot next to the stage.”

“Perfect.” I lean up and kiss him hard. “I fucking love you, Joel.”

“Love you, too, D’Rose. Let’s have a good time and forget about all the other bullshit for tonight.”

“Done,” I say, bouncing on the balls of my feet as we wait for our turn to enter.

The venue is small which means an intimate experience. We make small talk around burgers and beers, then head up to the stage. The opening act is a local group with a bass heavy sound I can’t help but move to.

Echo stays behind me, a statue protecting me from harm and swaying with me. The lights dim as they leave the stage and instruments are swapped out.

Butterflies explode in my stomach. Chants of MGK go up in the air. I’m caught up in the contagious enthusiasm yelling along with them as I jump around. This man spilled pain I could feel and understand onto paper, letting me know when I thought I was alone and no one understood, he did. It’s a beautiful thing to form an intense connection to an artist and what they’re expressing.

MGK comes out in all his glory and the roar of approval is deafening. He bounces across the stage like an energized bunny. “Let me see you put those fucking L’s in the air.”

I throw up my L, completely star struck. He launches into “Champions” and I close my eyes, mouthing the words as I lose myself.

Echo

High from the show and the feel of the woman in front of me grinding her thick ass against my dick, I grip her jaw and kiss her like my life depends on it. As “Baddest Bitch” plays in the background, I press my lips to her ear. “Marry me.”

She gasps then screams, “Yes!”

Grinning, I pull the new ring I purchased out of my pocket and slip it on her finger.

“Oh, shit! These motherfuckers just got engaged over here!” MGK yells.

I exchange a nod of respect with him and eat up her happy laughter. It’s a night neither of us is going to forget. Congratulations rain down on us and I wish we could live in this moment forever. If it were up to me, I’d take her to Vegas tonight, but duty calls. We have a thing to handle before we can get to our happily ever after. Determination fills me. I’m going to handle the Mouth situation and move on with the rest of my life.

~~

The annoying ringing of my phone pulls me from sleep. I groan. Not today. I roll over, reluctantly pulling my body from D’Rose and grab the evil item screaming at me. “Hello.”

“Echo…you got some time?”

“Charm?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

“Yeah.”

“You want to talk, man, what’s up?”

“I …ugh, was wondering if I could see you in person,” Charm says.

Tags: Shyla Colt Kings of Chaos Erotic
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