"I love it." She slid in and buckled her seat belt.
"I know a nice little place about fifteen minutes drive away. I've booked us a quiet table in the corner for 10:20."
"Ah. You knew I'd turn up then."
"But of course." He flashed her a boyish grin, the green fire in his eyes sparking with promise.
Sophie liked that - both the smile and his confidence and the unspoken words glimpsed from an expression laden with meaning. He made her feel wonderfully, tinglingly, sensually, alive. She stole a quick look at him as he drove the car out on to the main road.
Old or not, he looked good enough to eat. His hair was dark brown and just reached the collar of his black shirt which he wore with a pair of black chinos that flattered his long legs. Tall, lean and broad shouldered, he had the physique of a man half his age, with a narrow waist and broad, strong chest. His hands on the wheel were large; well proportioned, yet delicate, with long tapering fingers and neatly manicured nails. His wide, sensual mouth curled slightly upwards. His jaw was firm, and aside from tiny laughter lines that crinkled invitingly at the corners of his eyes, he showed no signs of age.
"Do I pass muster?" he said with a grin.
"Oh! Was I staring?" She felt herself blush.
"Uh huh." He reached out with one hand, catching one of hers in his outstretched palm.
His touch sparked something within her, and she met his gaze frankly. "You pass," she assured him. "I hope I do too."
"You do indeed." He gave her hand the briefest of squeezes before letting go to return his grasp of the wheel with both hands. "I've never done this before, Sophie, not with one of my students. The university frown on such entanglements, and I fully understand why."
"Yes, but we're not getting entangled quite yet, we're just going out for dinner,"
Sophie retorted. He laughed then, and his laugh, like his voice, was warm and pleasant with a deep resonance. "I like listening to you laugh," she said.
"And I to you. It was what first attracted me to you over three years ago."
"Three years ago?" Sophie blinked in surprise.
"Yeah. You were studying for your first degree. I overheard you laughing in the corridor, and I turned round and saw you for the first time. You didn't see me, but I remember you were wearing your hair in two braids tied with pink ribbon, the same shade as your sweater. I thought you were unbelievably cute. So imagine my delight when three years later, you turn up in my post-grad Knowledge Management course."
Sophie was stunned. What a revelation. Here she was, sitting in the car of a man she'd had the hots for, for several months, a man who she thought barely even noticed her, when all the time he'd been attracted to her. "Wow. I don't know what to say - except that I'm flattered. I'll be honest with you, I was attracted to you the first time you walked into the lecture theatre. And I'm not the only one - all the girlies have their eye on you."
"Do they now." Jack grinned and shrugged. "And will they be jealous when they know you've been out to dinner with me?"
"I didn't tell anyone I was meeting you." When there was no immediate response, Sophie looked at his expression. "That was the right thing to do, wasn't it? I would hate you to get into any bother with the university because of me."
"The right thing? Well yes ... and no. Yes, because your discretion is essential in order to avoid compromising my position as a member of the university staff; and no, because you are far too trusting. No one knows where you are or who you're with. What if anything adverse were to happen? Not that it's going to," he added, "but you get my drift?"
She nodded. "Maybe I should have mentioned it to a friend outside of the university."
"In future, if you go out to meet anyone on a first date, you must always let a friend know your location. Get them to call you to make sure you're ok. Understand?"
"Yes." Sophie's face fell.
"It's okay, little one, I'm not angry with you. I just have your back, that's all."
"I appreciate it."
"How old are you, Sophie - 22?"
"No. I'm 24. I know I look younger, but I don't mind. I like it that way."
"I do too. It's true, you look a great deal younger than your years and there's a vulnerability about you that could be exploited unfairly in the wrong hands. But right now, little lady, you're in the right hands, so there's no cause for concern."
At the mention of being in his hands, Sophie started to squirm in her seat. Oh I wish, she thought. Jack cast her a sidelong glance and smiled. Sophie blushed, convinced that he knew what was going on inside her head. There was no denying that there was a mounting sexual tension between them, and if he'd pulled up on a deserted road and ravished her on the back seat of the car, she'd have encouraged him all the way.
No such luck. He didn't pull up for wild sex, just drove on into the night, and parked outside an inviting-looking restaurant located in a leafy suburb.
"Here we are. Trattoria Romana. Are you hungry?"
"I'm absolutely starving!"
"Me too."
"You'll like it here. You can experience a casual, relaxing evening with authentic Italian dishes in the company of yours truly." Jack flashed her another smile and held open the door.
"Good evening, Mr Drummond. Good evening, madam," said the waiter as they entered.
"Hi Luigi. How are you?"
"Very well, Sir. Good to see you again. Let me show you to your table." He led the way to a table at the far end of the restaurant, partly screened by a decorative trellis, and returned a moment later with two side plates and a basket of assorted breads with roasted garlic and olive oil. Then handing them a menu each, he discretely took his leave.
"You're obviously a regular here," said Sophie.
"I am. It's within walking distance of my house. I've been coming here for years."
"It's lovely." Sophie looked around. The place was warm and welcoming with an old world charm, high quality without being ostentatious. Dark wooden floors contrasted with elegant tablecloths. On each table were fresh flowers in crystal vases, and candles to complement the muted lighting overhead and backlit shelves of wine. The plain white walls were adorned with a few gilt-framed mirrors and paintings.
"The food is excellent. Any idea yet what you would like?"
Sophie stared at the menu. There was so much to choose from, her head swam, and she gulped when she saw the prices which were way above what she would normally pay as an impoverished student.
"Have whatever you like, honey. This is my treat. I can recommend the shrimp sambuca or the lobster tails for a starter, and for a main course their signature dish is very good - pork belly with herbs and garlic, fennel crackling and wild mushrooms."
"Thank you. It sounds great. I'll go for the lobster tails and the signature dish please."
Jack ordered the food, along with a bottle of Pinot Grigio and a bottle of water. "As I'm driving, you'll have to do justice to most of the wine."
"I think I can help you out with that," she said with a smile.
They nibbled on the delicious speciality bread and talked until their starters arrived. Jack was wonderful company, regaling her with humorous anecdotes from university life.
"How long have you worked at the university?" asked Sophie. She bit into a lobster tail. "Oh my God - this is amazing."
"Yeah, enjoy. Let's see - almost ten years. I moved to Leeds from London after my divorce."
"Oh. Right. I hope it wasn't acrimonious?"
"Fortunately not. No, it was quite civilized really. We married too young and over the years each of us changed in different ways and we just drifted apart. When Laurel - my ex - met someone else we talked at length and I gave her my blessing. We're still good friends, and I like her husband. We get to play a few rounds of golf a couple of times a year."
"That's good to hear. Do you have children?"
"No, and that fact probably made the whole business of divorce so much easier. I've had a few relationships since then, but I'm very p
articular." He looked at her in a way that made her tremble.
"How particular?"
He smiled that intoxicating smile of his. "My perfect woman is hard to find. But once found, I'm hanging on to her. She has to be intelligent."
"Uh huh." That's me!
"And she has to have a certain body type to satisfy my precise requirements." He leaned forward conspiratorially. "I adore waif-like creatures, the more child-like the better. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not into under-age kids, I need a real woman ... who maybe looks like an under-age kid at times. Someone of small stature. Brings out my protective, nurturing side, see?"
"I'm beginning to." Sophie's eyes grew round, and the excitement she had been feeling all evening increased substantially as she considered the implications of his 'precise requirements'. "I can imagine you in a protective, almost fatherly role."
He nodded, his eyes glimmering in the candlelight. "She also has to be submissive to me because I'm a guy who needs to be in control. I'm the one who calls the shots, but always with my woman's best interests at heart."
"Lucky woman." Sophie took another drink of wine. Her head was spinning. This man excited her beyond belief.
"She also has to accept my discipline, because that's a part of who I am," he said quietly. "I know what a huge risk I'm taking in telling you this, Sophie, and I value your discretion. I know I can trust you."
"Of course. You can trust me not to gossip about anything that passes between us. I promise." Sophie was aware she had responded to the latter part of his statement, not the former. She swallowed. "Discipline? What exactly do you mean by that?"
"I like to spank my women," he said simply.
"Sp-spank them? Oh - how kinky is that!" She let out an involuntary giggle. It didn't seem to phase him one bit.
"Oh, it's very kinky, believe me. And mostly highly enjoyable for both parties."
"Mostly?"
The corners of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Spanking can be a great deal of fun and it can lead to the best sex you've ever had. But a punishment spanking is a little different because that's not intended to be fun, it's intended to show someone the error of their ways and teach them a valuable lesson. The key point here is that discipline can mean punishment, but mostly it's about learning correct behaviour."
"Oh. Okay, I can understand that I think." She wanted to ask whether great sex followed punishment spankings too, but didn't dare, so instead took another gulp of wine and drained her glass. He refilled it.
"Well, you're still here. You haven't run off."
"And why would I run off?"
"Because my kink isn't to everyone's taste, and my preferred lifestyle wouldn't suit everyone."
Empowered by the wine, Sophie's eyes shone. "Sod everyone. They don't matter. All that matters is what you and ... and your perfect woman agree to."
"Exactly so." Jack reached out and took her hand. "As I said earlier, my perfect woman is hard to find. But once found, I'm hanging on to her." He held her hand tightly and he didn't let go. "You think you'd like to take things further with me, Sophie? See how we get on?"
"Yes." It came out as a whisper. "Yes," she said again, louder this time. "Yes please."
"Wonderful." It was just one word but it was laden with meaning. Jack was fully aware that entering into an intimate relationship with one of his students would be frowned on by the university, but they had the whole summer ahead of them, and after that, Sophie only had one more semester until she finished her course. If they could both manage to be discrete during that final semester, they would then be able to continue their relationship openly. It was a pleasant prospect and it stirred up the emotions deep within him.
There was a lull in the conversation as the main course arrived, which tasted every bit as delicious as it looked. They talked animatedly as they ate. There were no awkward silences and it seemed to Sophie that she'd known this man for years. He was sophisticated and charming and assertive in a way that turned her on, and when the conversation returned to Jack's kinky interests, Sophie found herself asking endless questions.
"What's submission all about? I'm trying to get my head round it."
"Okay, well, in a nutshell it's the surrendering of power to another person ... submitting to the authority or control of another ... a Dominant. Dominance and submission go hand in hand and relate to a power exchange between two consenting adults. It's all about the control within the dynamics of a particular relationship, regardless of whether it's a lifestyle 24/7 arrangement, or a casual play meeting, or a part time arrangement. "
Sophie listened intently. "So, is being submissive the same as being passive? I'm not passive."
"No, I agree you're not passive - which is a good thing... but I do think you have submissive traits. Don't be fooled into thinking that submission equates to weakness. Some of the most successful high-flying career-oriented people can also be submissives. We're talking about highly intelligent and well-balanced people who enjoy or have a need to fulfil their inherent desires to give up control and submit within the framework of their relationship. Submission isn't about being a doormat, it's a choice."
"Hmm." Sophie digested his words. "I guess I do have submissive traits because a lot of the time I like being told what to do. I enjoy giving up control, I just never really thought about it much until now. Interesting. In fact, this whole power exchange thing is interesting, though I wouldn't want it all the time."
"Of course. Relationships vary to suit the needs of the individuals. For some, the power exchange can be just for play, maybe at a specified time each week. In situations like that, the sub will give over control for the agreed period. She'll perhaps indulge in some role play with her Dominant."
"I don't know any Dominants."
"You do now." He appraised her with a look she would come to know so well. "I'm very much looking forward to knowing you better, Sophie, and I think you'll find that as we become more familiar with each other, the D/s will underpin our relationship." He tapped his chest playfully. "Me Alpha male. You sub."
Sophie giggled. "What do you mean by role play?"
"The possibilities are endless. It can be fun, or serious, or both. You could be a French maid, a misbehaving secretary, a naughty schoolgirl ... or just a naughty little girl disciplined by her daddy."
"Her daddy? I kinda like the sound of that."
"Yes, I thought you might," he said with a wicked gleam in his eye. "We must discuss that scenario further later on."
"Well, what a revelation tonight has been."
"It's not over yet." Jack smiled. "Would you like dessert?"
"No thanks, I couldn't manage another thing. The meal was lovely. Thank you."
"You're welcome, kiddo. Now - I could drive you straight home or I could invite you round to my place for a coffee. Which do you prefer?" He knew by her expression what her preference was. He grinned. "My place it is then." He beckoned the waiter for the bill.
"Spooky! How did you know what I wanted?"
"I'm observant and astute, and over the coming weeks I'll become even more so," he said meaningfully. He paid for their meal and left a generous tip, then escorted Sophie out to the car. "I live only a mile away, we'll be there in no time."
He drove through the deserted streets and turned into a leafy avenue. "My place is at the end."
"Oh. Nice," said Sophie as they approached a smart-looking red brick detached house. "It looks big!"
"It isn't really. There are four bedrooms, but one of them is tiny. I use it as a study. But the house is ample for my needs. Come on in and I'll get the coffee on."
He unlocked the front door and led the way into an entrance hall. The staircase led off to the right, and on the left was a hallway with two doors on the left - one leading off to the dining room, the other to the sitting room - and a third at the end of the hall which led into the kitchen.
Jack got the coffee underway and took out two blue mugs from one of the cupboards. They drank it in the
sitting room. It was very much a masculine room, with deep mulberry carpet and plum-coloured velvet curtains, and an absence of ornaments and fresh flowers. But it was large and comfortable with two ox-blood leather sofas, TV, sideboard, expensive light fittings, and bookshelves set into the alcoves either side of the fireplace. There were several framed oil paintings on one wall - three landscapes and one of beautiful white horses galloping over the grass by a riverbank. Sophie admired them, then moved to the last one. Unlike the others, it wasn't an oil painting, but a gilt-framed photograph of a castle.
"Oh yes - I like this one too. Where is it?"
"A place called Lochgilphead, which is up in Argyll, Scotland."
"I love castles! Always have. Does this one have a name? Is it famous?"
"It's called Kilchurny castle, and no, it isn't remotely famous. My father bought it as a ruin in 1968. It cost about two hundred pounds; it was simply a pile of crumbling stone and it didn't have a roof on at the time." Jack's eyes twinkled at Sophie's expression.
"Wow! Your father bought a castle?! Wow! How cool is that!"
Jack laughed. "Yes, it's great. Though back then, there were ruined castles all over the place and they could be bought very cheaply."
"So you were brought up there?"
"Yes, and when I arrived on the scene in 1973, the rebuilding and renovations were all complete - and there was a roof on too."
"What a fabulous place to live! Oh look - it has a tower with battlements!"
"It does, and 2 acres of land. But the castle itself is actually quite small. It has only four bedrooms."
"This is so exciting!" Sophie jumped about and clapped her hands. "I've never met anyone before who was raised in a castle!"
"After my father died a few years ago, Mum went to live in a small house in the town, so I'm the proud owner of Kilchurny now, having no other siblings. I spend as much time there as I can though, and sometimes rent the place out to friends for a couple of weeks during term time."
"What made you leave?"
"I was one of those infuriatingly clever boys who enjoyed studying and passed exams effortlessly." He grinned self-deprecatingly. "I got a place at Cambridge, and after graduating I moved to London where the work was. But I still think of Kilchurny as home. If I ever have kids of my own, maybe I'll move back there and make it a family home again."
Little Sophie and the Professor Page 2
