Dirty Neighbor(3)

“And women to screw, don’t forget that.”

“Fuck this, I’m going into work. Stay out of trouble.” He left the room, going to grab his keys.

Brant made sure he didn’t look toward Elisha’s house. The first real conversation with his neighbor, and she angered him. She was such an infuriating woman, and not one he wanted to get to know. How dare she call him awful?

He was a good man.

What he did in the privacy of his own home was his fucking business. Infuriating woman. Climbing into his car, he drove away from his house, and made his way into his professional studio in the center of the city. He parked in the underground parking, securing all the gates so no one could enter. His studio was also his shop where he sold some of his work. Brant wondered if his bitchy neighbor knew she was living next to an artist. Quite a damn good one if his bank balance spoke for itself.

Awful?

He wasn’t an awful guy.

The world, people, everything inspired him, and he loved life, living life, and being part of everything. Parties helped him to relax, and he met new, exciting people. It also gave him the opportunity to fuck any woman he wanted, but he didn’t have a problem finding women to suck or ride his dick.

Flicking on the lights to his studio, he removed his jacket, throwing his keys onto the small table beside the door. Sean would know not to disturb him in this area. No one was allowed past those gates. When he did commissioned paintings he went to the house of the people who wanted him.

This was his zone, untainted by anything.

Removing his shirt, he stood in a pair of sweat pants, and took in the first picture he came to. The image was of a wolf howling at the moon. He’d seen a horror movie about vampires and wolves, so he’d taken the theme and created a piece of art for himself. There were some shading and finishing touches to give it the right effect, but he actually liked the piece. It would take a small price in his studio.

There were times he liked to just paint random things like the sky, or a wolf howling. He’d never been just a simple guy with simple tastes. His art teacher had gotten so angry that he didn’t have much in the way of vision. Even though artists were known for being creative and uncontrollable, his teachers wanted him to learn structure. There was no structure to him, no control, no rules for him to abide by. To him, art was free, it was everywhere, and no one was going to tell him how to work.

Through his years of high school, then college, into the world of art, he’d defined himself as being free, and that was why he was successful.

“I’m not awful. How dare she?”

However, even as he spoke the words aloud, he couldn’t help but be drawn to his latest sketch right at the back of the room. Blowing out a breath, he made his way toward the picture, and removed the cover he’d placed over it the day before.

His very beautiful, sensual neighbor was on the sketch. Brant had been standing at his bedroom window three weeks ago when Elisha had been outside. The mood had cast an illumination over her, so that for a second he truly believed he was seeing an angel. Of course, he had to draw her, and after doing a quick sketch, he’d been working on this piece for the last three weeks. He’d love the opportunity to draw her properly, but there was no way he was getting close to her to ask.

Awful neighbor!

She was the awful neighbor, not him. Throwing the large blanket over the picture, he walked away from it. The good thing about being an artist, there was always something for him to draw.





Chapter Two



Elisha squeezed her hands together and stopped herself from reaching out to clean something of Beth’s. It was Sunday, and she was so damn tense, as her neighbor had thrown a party, which hadn’t stopped until two. If only the party had finished then. With everything that had happened on Saturday, confronting her neighbor, she’d forgotten to close her window, so after the party she ended up hearing the orgy he’d started up in his backyard.

Her nerves were fried, and she was so damn tired.

“Are you okay, honey?” Beth asked, placing a cup of coffee in front of her.

Taking a deep breath, Elisha nodded.

“You look tense. In fact, you don’t look well at all.”

Biting her lip, Elisha kept her mouth closed. What was the point in complaining? There was nothing she could do about it. She loved her little house, and it was such a huge achievement for her. Her mortgage was all paid up, and now she was saving up for her around the world trip that she’d always wanted to go on.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. You look like you’ve seen a speck of dust, and it’s driving you crazy,” Andrew said, snorting.

“Shut it, Andy. She doesn’t need that.” Beth slapped Andrew’s arm and shushed him.