Isabel and the Wolf: (Part 1) (3 page)

Hey Chiquita! I’m back from Grenada. The dig was awesome – I've got so much to tell you!

How's the land of UFOs? It's been, what, six weeks now? Are you all settled in? Have you met anyone yet? I hope it's not all dry out there ;)

So, I’ve got a couple of free weekends coming up – not next weekend, but the two after that, and I was thinking that I’d come and pay you a visit. Are you free? ANNND I'm warning you, when I come, we are going OUT! I've heard the guys there are hot! (Can you tell it's been a while? I was hoping there'd be some cute archaeologists on my dig, but nada!)

Also, when are you going to stop being a massive technophobe and get a phone with internet, so I don't have to wait so long to hear back from you? Seriously, I keep worrying that you’ve been abducted for alien experiments!!

Anyways, let me know which weekend works for you, and I'll be right there!

Besos grandes!

Kara xox

Isabel broke into a grin. She’d love to see Kara and show her around. Kara had told her more than once how crazy she thought she was for moving out to New Mexico, but she understood Isabel’s ambitions and need to be somewhere with the space her soul was craving. Isabel took a large bite of her egg muffin – it was pretty good as well, maybe her best attempt ever, in fact. The light and the landscape here were amazing, and she was succeeding at what she’d set out to do, which was to develop her sculpture business. Big-city living was fine while she was doing corporate stuff, but she had long felt that her true creativity, and longer-term plan to create and sell individualistic, gallery-standard pieces was being stifled. At the same time, she missed her best friend badly. She and Kara were used to seeing each other two or three times every week, and this was the longest they’d been apart for years.

Isabel clicked on another message. It was from a couple she’d recently met at a gallery opening, confirming dinner plans tonight for a small gathering of local artists. She smiled to herself, happy that her new social life was beginning to shape up.

She finished eating and zoned out on her computer screen. She was avoiding logging on to the dating site. There was no way Peter was going to get away without hearing exactly what she thought of his behavior last night though. She hadn’t worked out what she was going to say yet, but it wouldn’t be polite. Seriously, what kind of a person acts like that? Anger sparked in her again. Allowing herself to get all fired up, she typed in the web address. The page opened and she cringed as her screen filled with images of slinky vixens in latex and men in masks, brandishing pathetic-looking whips. She entered ‘Little Red’ in the username box, and then her password. Her inbox was displayed, and there was a new message waiting for her. It was from him. She clicked to open it:

Lupus11: You were late.

Isabel gasped. She read the three words over and over. His audacity was incredible. She barely paused to think before she began typing.

Little Red: Uh, perhaps you failed to notice, but I came to meet you in the middle of a storm! It was actually a really stressful journey, so it’s pretty amazing that I was only 20 minutes late! And you didn’t even have the good manners to sit in the bar and wait for me!

She hit ‘send’, satisfied. She could’ve been a lot harsher, but that was enough to get the point across. She was just about to shut the computer, when a message alert popped up. He was online right now! She opened the message.

Lupus11: You could have left more time. Didn’t you know it was raining when you left?

Isabel’s anger flared up again, and her fingers flew on the keyboard.

Little Red: Yes I was aware of that, thank you! But, apart from the storm, the main issue was that there was a tree blocking the road from Silver City!

Lupus11: You came that way?

Little Red: Yes, of course I did! – it’s the only direct route to Black Peak City.

Lupus11: I didn’t realize.

Isabel flicked through their messages in her inbox. They actually hadn’t exchanged many, just a couple verifying mutual interest and when and where they were going to meet. Peter had suggested the bar, and she’d agreed to it. She hadn’t at any point mentioned it took her a while to get there.

Little Red: It’s an hour’s drive away.

Lupus11: Oh, I didn’t think you would have driven that far.

Suddenly, Isabel had another thought.

Little Red: Hold on. How did you know I was late? I might not have turned up at all.

Lupus11: We met in the doorway.

Isabel gaped at the screen, trying to piece several different types of incredulity together into a single response.

Little Red: What?! You recognized me and you said nothing?

Lupus11: How did you arrive at the bar when there was a tree blocking your route?

Suppressing her annoyance that he’d just ignored her question, she replied:

Little Red: Well, luckily there were cops at the scene, and one of them took me on a short cut through the forest.

Lupus11: Ah, that explains your smell.

Little Red: My smell? What ARE you talking about?

Lupus11: When you walked in, I could smell the woods on you. And the mark of a man.

Little Red: You could smell from that distance away? How is that even possible?’

Lupus11: I’ve had a strong sense of smell since I was young. I picked up the scent, but, of course, it was much stronger when I touched your skin.

Little Red: So that’s why you left?

Lupus11: I left because I found out all I needed to know.

Isabel took her MacBook off her lap and put it on the sofa next to her, at a loss. Words failed her.

Little Red: WTF?? You’re telling me that you left because you didn’t like the way I smelled?’

For a long time, there was no reply. Isabel waited, annoyed at the fact that she was waiting, on tenterhooks, for whatever crazy response he was about to come up with. At last, the new message alert flashed.

Lupus11: Forgive me. I haven’t explained myself properly. On the contrary, the way you smelled was very arousing to me. I left because I was satisfied you have the strength I am looking for.

Little Red: Really? And how’s that?

Lupus11: You showed that you have spirit.

Isabel recalled the way she’d yelled at him in the doorway, and couldn’t help smirking. She wasn’t aggressive by nature, but she never let anyone get the better of her either, that was for sure. Another message came:

Lupus11: I also saw that your photo doesn’t do you justice.

To her disgust, Isabel felt her cheeks warming. But she wasn’t going to give in that easily.

Little Red: I’m surprised you could see anything, the way you were hurtling through the door.

Lupus11: No, I saw you clearly. You're a beautiful woman. Also very different looking from most of the women around here.

Little Red: That might be because I’m not local – I just moved here.

Lupus11: Oh, really? From where?

Little Red: Chicago. You know, those photos of yours don't do you any favors either.

Lupus11: You mean they’re bad?

Little Red: Just really grainy. That was probably one of several reasons why I didn’t recognize you when I was introduced to you in the doorway there.

Lupus11: Oh – they’re the only ones I had. I don’t like having my photo taken.

And, to her surprise, he followed up the message with an embarrassed emoticon.

Little Red: So, what’s with your name – isn’t lupus some kind of disease?

Now there was a manically-grinning emoticon coming her way.

Lupus11: Haha! It is, but it’s also Latin for wolf, which is the reason why I chose it.

Little Red: You have a thing for wolves?

Lupus11: I do. They’re beautiful, majestic animals, no?

Little Red: I guess so. I hadn’t really thought about it.

Lupus11: Maybe you should ;) And what does your name mean?

Little Red: Well, by some really interesting coincidence, it partly relates to the story of Little Red Riding Hood, a little girl who got eaten by the big, bad wolf.

An open-mouthed emoticon popped onto Isabel’s screen.

Lupus11: That IS a coincidence! I’ll have to check out the story. I haven’t heard it before.

Isabel paused, caught off balance. It was strange to see this softer side to him, and even a little bit endearing. Hardly knowing what she was doing, she wrote:

Little Red: Maybe I’ll tell you the story in person.

Lupus11: I would enjoy that.

Isabel’s lips curved into a smile. While she was deliberating over what to reply, another message arrived.

Lupus11: Come to me.

Against her will, a colony of butterflies came to life in her stomach, and started fluttering around. Her resolve fell apart.

Little Red: When?

Lupus11
: Tonight.

Little Red: I’m sorry, I can’t do tonight – I have plans already. How about tomorrow?

Lupus11: That doesn’t work for me.

Isabel pulled back, sensing his hardness returning. Her own annoyance began to bubble again.

Little Red: So when is good for you?

Lupus11: Wednesday. And now we’ve met, you can come to my home.

Isabel froze, fingers poised on the keyboard. ‘Met’ was hardly the word for it. Apart from a couple of minutes’ friendly cyber chat, Peter was as much a stranger as he’d ever been. But, at the same time, she couldn’t deny that her desire for him was growing by the second. There was something arousing about his terse, unadorned messages. They were uncompromising, alpha. He didn’t try to persuade her, like a weaker man would have done. Or a weirdo, she realized. There was something guileless about them that did make her think she could trust him. While she was still thinking, another message arrived:

Lupus11: 34 Pinos Altos Drive, Black Peak City

Isabel sighed, her more sensible instincts fighting a losing battle with her desire.

Little Red: Ok. Wednesday it is. Around 8?

Lupus11: 8 is good.

Little Red: Great, I’ll see you then.

Lupus11: And I would like you to wear a dress again.

Little Red: Ok. Dress I can do. Any particular kind?

Lupus11: Just one that that doesn’t press tightly against your flesh. And please don’t wear anything else beneath it.

“What?” Isabel said, out loud. Was he really asking her to turn up at his house without any underwear on? She collapsed against the sofa cushions and stared at the ceiling. Could he be any more audacious? And to be exact, he hadn’t been asking her, so much as telling her.

Little Red: You’re requesting I don’t wear underwear?

Lupus11: I am.

Isabel let out a long breath. After a pause, she replied:

Little Red: I’m sorry but I’m not too comfortable with that.

Moments passed and there was no reply from him. Isabel stared at the screen, then out of the window at the desert trees in her garden, then back to the screen again. Still nothing. Whole minutes passed. Was that it? Relief mingled with disappointment. When she was at the point of closing the lid of her laptop, the message alert flashed.

Lupus11: Isabel, you have come here looking for your submission. This is the very first step on the journey. Now is the point when you can turn back and forget about all of this. But if you choose to continue, you must not refuse even my smallest request. You must decide.

He did have a point, she admitted. The whole essence of domination was doing what you were told, not picking and choosing what requests you should obey. Isabel let her body relax on the sofa, emptied her thoughts, and tried to imagine herself doing it – strolling over to his house, in nothing but a flimsy dress, acutely aware of her own nakedness. She could hardly wrap her mind around it. But wasn't this what she’d been looking for all along? Doing the bidding of a powerful man, without question, however uncomfortable it seemed? Her clit responded with a jolt – yes, it seemed like it was. A deep flush blossomed in her cheeks, an unsettling, shame-tinged heat.

Little Red: Ok

she typed and hit ‘send’. And she felt like, with that little word, she had signed some kind of contract.

Lupus11: Until Wednesday, Isabel.

Little Red: Until Wednesday

she typed, and, by the time she hit ‘send’, he was gone.

Isabel closed her computer. Her head was spinning. What had she just agreed to? Was she crazy? In the space of a conversation she'd gone from outright hostility, following being stood up on a date, to agreeing to meet up again. And it wasn’t a date this time, it was unequivocally a sexual liaison. She was letting her urges get the better of her, she knew it. She’d also been spending too long on the website, where doing that type of thing seemed normal. Everyone on there was looking for hookups and play partners. But maybe it was normal, maybe this domination thing was something she just had to get out of her system right now, before it was time for her to meet ‘the one’ and settle down.

*

That evening, Isabel went to the artists’ place for dinner. She pulled up at a charming adobe bungalow, painted the color of terracotta, with a turquoise door and window frames, and shaded by a Chinese Pistachio tree. The owners greeted her at the door.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” said Marianna, a tanned, willowy woman in her late thirties, and her older, bearded husband Bill hugged Isabel as if he’d known her for years. Isabel handed them some wine and flowers and looked around at the room she’d entered. It was beautifully decorated, with the typical exposed beams and rustic wooden furniture. The floor was laid with large clay tiles, with a border of the highly ornate, geometric Mexican tiles that she loved, and tiles were also set into the adobe walls, all in shades of blue, but every one individual, like jewels. Marianna had paused, giving her a moment to view the room.

“We’ve kind of got a thing for tiles!” she said.

“They’re so beautiful,” Isabel replied. “Some of them look really old!”

“They are,” Bill said. “We’ve been collecting them around Mexico for years! Come on, we’ll introduce you to everybody else.” The couple showed her through to a garden at the back. She met Ingrid, a cool blonde with Germanic features, and her jovial-looking boyfriend, John. And there was another couple, tall, loose-limbed Rob, and Josie, who was dark-haired and very petite, with lively black eyes.