Love, Art, and Murder – Mystery Romance - Page 11

Those luscious strands rained down on her skin. Both Hex and I gaped at her. Our bodies froze into our positions. We were her puppets, ready to do whatever she needed. Hex must’ve longed to mold her into the images he created in his head as well as be inspired by the beauty before him. While I craved to stroke that delicate skin and run my fingers through her tresses as she moaned with hunger. I would grip a thick section of her hair in my hands, wrap it around my fingers, and take her from behind. And she would scream my name.

My pants strained with the weight of my stiff length. My mouth went dry. My heart sped up at an erratic pace.

“Is there some way I can work for the whole summer?” She ran her fingers through her hair and spread it out to cover her entire upper body like a shirt. The movement should have calmed me down, but instead I yearned for her body even more as she concealed it from me.

She has to know what she’s doing to us.

“Maybe you can stay the whole summer,” I blurted out.

I’ll have to see Madam Miriam tonight and have her schedule me with a woman. One with long black hair and pale skin, who would let me call her Elle.

“Then it’s settled. She stays all summer?” Hex didn’t turn my way as he continued to gawk at her. “We can get more help with our relatives.”

In other words, we would hire more security and another nurse to help with the twenty-four-hour shifts. I’d already planned to do that, but now Hex would assume it was his idea and not have his curiosity teased.

“I’ll get on that right now.”’

“Thanks so much,” Elle said.

I’ll definitely call Miriam tonight. Maybe have her schedule me with two lovely ladies with long black hair.

But I never got the chance to call Madam Miriam as screams sounded from outside Hex’s studio.

Chapter 3

Elle

Alvarez and Hex begged me to stay in the studio while the women continued to scream. I spent several minutes alone, getting dressed and putting my hair back up. A whole lot of commotion sounded beyond the walls. Although I peeked through the window curtains, I didn’t get much information.

Outside, a tiny old woman stood barefoot in the grass, spitting out Spanish and wagging her hands up and down. She had that same tan complexion like Hex and Alvarez and those beautiful brown eyes that both men shared, too. Is this their mother, maybe? Wrinkles covered her cheeks. Her silvery white hair fell to her shoulders. Next to Alvarez’s huge frame, she looked tiny and was probably shorter than me.

However, what she didn’t have in height and width, she made up with her voice and authority. Both men remained silent. Hex just stood by with his hands in his coveralls and a distant look toward the castle. Alvarez nodded at appropriate times and massaged the temples of his forehead. And then she turned her gaze to the window I peered out of. My body tensed as she watched me intently without blinking or looking away. The expression on her face never shifted. I had no idea if she was mad, curious, or happy with the fact that some stranger was staring at her from inside Hex’s studio.

She muttered one more thing and stomped my way. I fled from the window. What else could I do? I had no idea what she would say to me. Granted, from watching her talk to the guys, I didn’t think she was the type to hold back her thoughts for the sake of manners.

“Where are you, little one?” The old woman’s voice flowed into the space first, and then she arrived. I’d figured she was small, but realized that she was even smaller. She headed my way with a wide smile that made her wrinkled, tan cheeks rise. “I see a glow in you. It rushed out to me from the window. I couldn’t ignore it.”

“Uh . . . thank you?”

“Let me get a good look at you, child. My eyes aren’t like they used to be. My visions are clear, but everything else is filled with shadows.” She got on her tip-toes and seized my face with cold hands. “What’s your name?”

“Elle.” I bent over so that she wouldn’t have to remain on her toes, but I still wasn’t sure where this was going.

“No. What’s your real name? You’re not an Elle.” She closed her eyes.

“I was born Elena.”

“Hmmm. I like Elle better, but yes, Elena is your name. Who calls you Ellie? That word keeps being whispered around you. Ellie. Ellie. Ellie. The person doesn’t stop saying it.”

I parted my lips in shock. “No one calls me that, not anymore.”

She sucked her teeth a few times. “No. No. You’re lying. Someone calls you Ellie. A man. He’s saying it right now in drunken slurs. Ellie. Ellie.”

Tags: Kenya Wright Mystery
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