Isabel and the Wolf: (Part 2) by Ariana Hawkes Page A

filling her with optimism for the future. But she’d been alone for so long that she’d started to get little, nagging worries that she’d always be single; that her future was cats and spinsterdom. As much as she told herself she was being irrational, it had taken actually being with a flesh-and-blood man to convince her otherwise.
    Her art was going well. After she’d put the finishing touches to her big project, she had a week free of commissions, and enough money in the bank not to worry about it. She started working on a personal project instead. It was an abstract, carved from wood, which she’d never used as a medium before. She bought a big chunk of air-dried cherry wood from a shop downtown that specialized in art supplies and put it in a vise in the studio at the back of her house and got to work. Over the next few days, something voluptuous and intricate started to appear from the blank surfaces of the wood.
    She was also relaxed about Peter contacting her, with none of the anxiety of the previous time. When he messaged her on Wednesday, asking if she was free the day after, it seemed like the right time to meet.
    Peter: Let’s have a barbecue
    Isabel: In the forest?
    Peter: Of course :)
    Isabel: I hope I’ll be able to find the way by myself!
    Peter: You won’t. I’ll pick you up from downtown, in the parking lot behind the Buffalo Bar, 7.30pm.
    Isabel grinned to herself. The next 24 hours couldn’t go fast enough.

Chapter Five
    Isabel pulled into the dusty lot ten minutes early. She was wearing a dusky pink t-shirt dress that came in at the waist and finished at mid-thigh. Her shoes were like ballet pumps, but with a thicker sole. She hoped they’d be acceptable forest-wear for The Wolf. As much as she’d enjoyed being carried around by him, having some independence made her a lot more comfortable. Her eyes were lightly made up with waterproof mascara and nothing else, and a slick of lip gloss matched the color of her dress. She’d skipped underwear altogether, knowing how superfluous it was likely to be. She felt sexy, sexier than in her fashion-conscious low-cut dresses, or even her stockings and garter belt. Driving from her house, she was full of arousal-tinged anticipation.
    Peter arrived exactly on time. His low-slung black car slunk up to hers, jarring with the colorful, hotchpotch artiness of the town. Isabel slithered out of her car and into his, wanting to keep their liaison secret. It was something special and mysterious that she didn’t want to share with the community in general. Peter smiled at her.
    “Hi,” he said.
    “Hello,” she replied. “How did you know which car was mine?”
    “I knew where you were, Bella,” he said. She shrugged, knowing better than to interrogate him. The air-con was turned up high and gooseflesh broke out on her limbs. His scent filtered across to her. Freshly showered, she noted, and then wondered how she’d picked that up.
    Peter was silent for the first five minutes, to Isabel’s impatience. She was eager to regain the intimacy they’d had in the forest, but sensed that she shouldn’t be the one to speak first.
    “How have you been?” he asked her suddenly.
    “Good. I’ve been doing my art quite a lot, and it’s going well,” she said, and gave in to the rush of words she’d been trying to contain, telling him all about her project and her plans for showing pieces in a gallery. He seemed interested, asking her plenty of questions. As they slowed for a traffic light, he reached across and placed his hand on her thigh, at the point where the dress ended. His fingers were warm, warmer than her air-con cooled flesh, and she couldn’t prevent her body from twitching in response to his touch. They lined up behind other cars, and his hand slid higher, caressing her skin. Isabel held herself motionless. She had stopped speaking, and she’d stopped breathing as well. Her thighs were slightly parted and the tender place between them had begun