The Ivy Lessons (Devoted, Book 1)

by J Lerman

  A light spray of rain is whirling around the open air part, and the guide leads us to the sheltered seats.

  Tanya, Tom and I wait until last, so we can carry Tom up the steps and place him at the end of an aisle. Marc comes forward to help, checking to see Tom’s brakes are in place once he’s got him in a good position.

  ‘I remember these things,’ says Marc, giving Tom a wink. ‘I forgot the brakes a few times when I was acting in one, and nearly broke my neck.’

  Tom nods and smiles. ‘Fancy Shakespeare not catering for disability. What a bastard.’

  Tanya and I stand either side of Tom, but to my surprise, Marc doesn’t move. Instead, he stands behind me, waiting for the guide to speak.

  The guide looks sorry that Marc isn’t by her side any more, but quickly recovers and starts telling us how the theatre was lovingly recreated from historical pictures and documents. She tells us about the stage itself, and points out the wooden balcony above it.

  ‘Modern actors have played Juliet on that balcony,’ she says. ‘Calling to her Romeo. But in Shakespeare’s day, the balcony was used to seat important guests, such as members of the royal family. In those days, it was less about what you saw as what you heard. So the best seats in the house couldn’t see the actors all that well.’

  I feel Marc’s breath on my neck as the guide tells us about the history of the theatre. I try to listen to the guide, but my entire body is tense. All I can think about is Marc being so close to me, and that I can feel the heat from his body.

  As the guide tells us how the new theatre was built, I feel a palm on my behind.

  I give Marc a poisonous not here glare, but he squeezes my buttocks under his fingers, until I have to turn my lips inward so I don’t make a sound.

  I turn again and sneak a glance at him. His face is completely impassive, one hand rested nonchalantly on a wooden beam, the other working my backside.

  I smile and shake my head at him, and he gives the tiniest quirk of a smile back, still staring straight ahead.

  Having his hand there, kneading and pushing, I can hardly stand still. It’s a relief when the guide finally stops her talk about the theatre’s history and announces it’s time to see the museum.

  The class files down the steps, and Marc’s hand drops away. Now it’s gone, I miss its heat. Marc lifts Tom down from the steps, and Tanya and I wait for him. Then we all walk towards the museum, but as I reach the doorway, Marc catches my hand.

  I stop, looking stupidly at Tom and Tanya’s retreating backs.

  ‘Come with me,’ he says.

  ‘Where?’ I ask, watching the door to the museum swing closed.

  ‘Up here.’ He squeezes my hand and leads me up the wooden steps onto the Globe’s stage.

  ‘Are we allowed to be up here?’

  ‘I am,’ says Marc. ‘I’ve played on this stage before.’ He leads me through one of the rounded doorways, and up some creaky wooden stairs. Suddenly we’re on the balcony above the stage, looking out at the Globe Theatre.

  ‘This is amazing,’ I say, looking out at the empty seats. ‘Imagine this place full of people.’

  Marc tilts my chin up. His eyes dart back and forth. ‘Go to the balcony rail.’

  I do, holding the smooth wood and looking out over the theatre. It truly is amazing. I could stay here all day.

  Marc strokes the hair from one side of my neck to the other, and goose bumps run down my arms. Then he sucks hard on my neck, and I give a little gasp. I grip tighter to the balcony.

  In one smooth movement, he lifts up my dress and slides my bra upwards so my breasts are exposed. Then he covers my breasts with his hands and presses himself against me.

  ‘I’m planning to test your boundaries today.’

  Chapter 57

  I look out at the empty theatre. ‘I think my boundaries are pretty much tested.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think they are.’ Marc uses one hand to pull down my panties and free himself from his trousers. Then he slides a finger between my buttocks.

  ‘Has anyone else ever had you in there?’ he asks, sliding his finger further inside until I feel my buttocks clenching.

  ‘What ... I ... no,’ I say, as his hand tightens on my breast.

  He grapples with a condom, and something else – some little bottle of something. I try to turn to see what he’s doing, but he forces me back around to face the front.

  Then he slides himself between my buttocks and I feel he’s hard, but much more slippery than usual.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I whisper.

  ‘Something I’d like you to try,’ Marc replies. ‘Don’t worry. I have a special condom for this. No chance of breaking.’

  He slides himself further and further until he’s right inside a part of me that’s never experienced him, or anyone else, before.

  ‘I’ll go slow,’ he whispers.

  ‘I don’t know if I’m ready,’ I murmur, feeling the tightness.

  He inches further in. ‘How does that feel?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. It’s a little sore, and it feels very strange. I’m not sure I like the sensation.

  ‘Good okay?’ he asks.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Trust me.’ He inches further in, and it becomes more sore. I gasp.

  ‘It’ll hurt a little,’ he says. ‘But I promise it’ll feel good.’ He slides one hand between my legs and moves it back and forth, all the time inching further and further in.

  He’s so hard, everything feels too tight and suddenly he begins to move slowly back and forth.

  At first it feels far too strange and painful, and I almost ask him to stop, but as he slides his hand back and forth at the same time, it starts to feel so good.

  ‘Oh,’ I moan, as he pushes himself deeper and deeper. I grip tightly to the banister, and everything turns blurry. All I can think about is Marc and what he’s doing to me. I don’t know what I should think about anything right now, but what I do know is this feels so good.

  ‘You like it?’ Marc asks, moving faster. ‘I knew you would.’ His hand slides back and forwards, faster and faster. I hear him moan then, and that feels better than anything.

  ‘Oh God,’ he says, pushing further inside me with every stroke. ‘You’re a very accommodating student. Very, very accommodating.’

  I can feel he’s nearly all the way inside me now, and I come, feeling my knees go weak, and hearing myself calling his name.

  As waves of pleasure ripple through me, I feel him slide all the way inside until his body presses against my buttocks.

  ‘Oh God, oh Sophia,’ I hear him say, and I feel the beat of him against me.

  He collapses against my shoulders, grasping my breasts and pulling me into him. He holds me tight for a long time. Then he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, and slides himself free.

  I see he’s still hard, and feel sad. He didn’t come.

  He puts the condom into a plastic bag, and it’s then I realise he must have been planning this all along. The lubricant, the bag, the special condom.

  ‘You planned this,’ I say. I feel good, but sore.

  Marc nods. ‘Call it lesson preparation.’

  ‘I don’t know how I feel about what just happened,’ I say, pulling my dress down. ‘Or where.’

  He wraps his arms around me. ‘You think too much. It was good for you. I promise. You’d better get back to your trip. Catch up with the class.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I don’t want anyone to get suspicious about where you’ve been. I still have your reputation to think of. I’ll leave by the fire exit and meet you later on.’

  ‘Okay.’ I swallow, not sure how I’m going to make it down those creaky wooden steps. My knees are still so weak. ‘Where?’

  ‘I have something planned for us,’ he says. ‘A little extra-curricular trip all of our own. I’ll have a car come pick you up in two hour’s time from the campus gates. Now go.’ He gestures to the stairc
ase. ‘Ladies first. They’ll be getting suspicious.’

  ‘Okay.’ I head towards the staircase, then take careful steps until I reach the bottom. I cross the stage, and turn back to see Marc on the balcony. He’s staring at me, deep in thought. When he notices me looking up, a fondness passes over his face that makes my heart melt.

  ‘It’s going to be hard to wait,’ he says.

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘What are we going to do, Marc?’

  He shakes his head. ‘I don’t know. Yet.’

  Chapter 58

  After the museum tour, Tom, Tanya and I have coffee in the Globe restaurant. It looks out over the Thames, and we watch the grey waters churn under rain and wind.

  ‘I’m loving this place,’ says Tom. ‘Wheelchair ramps aside, what a great day out. And apparently it’s educational! Shame you dawdled, Soph. The museum was by far the highlight.’

  ‘I thought it was pretty boring,’ says Tanya. ‘Soph had the right idea – hang around and get a better look at the theatre itself. What an amazing building.’

  ‘It was,’ I agree.

  ‘Did you like the stage itself?’ Tanya asks. ‘You know, Marc performed on that stage, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say quietly. ‘I loved the stage.’ And Marc performed again on that stage this afternoon.

  ‘Where did Marc disappear to?’ asks Tom, with a knowing smile. ‘Funny how you both disappeared together.’

  ‘He left through the fire exit,’ I say, innocently. ‘I don’t know where he is now.’

  ‘I’ll bet,’ says Tom, taking a sip of cappuccino. ‘Well. A little London tour awaits, do we think? Shall we walk and wheel ourselves back to the college, and take in the sights on the way?’

  ‘You do know how far it is to the college, don’t you?’ says Tanya.

  ‘Of course I do. I grew up in London. Are you saying because I’m in a wheelchair, I can’t go very far?’

  ‘No,’ says Tanya. ‘I’m saying because you’re incredibly lazy, you can’t go very far. You moan about going over the grass on campus, and that’s just a few metres. Which means either Sophia or I will end up pushing you most of the journey.’

  ‘I understand,’ says Tom. ‘The two of you will squabble about who gets to push the famous Tom Davenport. Well, squabble not ladies. You can take it in turns. I like to be fair.’

  We all laugh.

  ‘I don’t mind pushing you,’ I say.

  ‘Nor do I really,’ says Tanya.

  ‘Then what are we waiting for? We’ve got no lectures this afternoon, correct? So we’ve got all the time in the world.’

  ‘Actually, I have to be back on campus in an hour,’ I say, checking my watch.

  ‘Really?’ Tom raises an eyebrow. ‘A hot date with someone? Perhaps even a certain lecturer we all know and love?’

  ‘Something like that,’ I admit.

  ‘Sophia, be careful with him,’ says Tanya. ‘He’s older than you, and ... well, you know my thoughts.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ says Tom. ‘He’s only five years older. I’m dating a thirty five year old divorcee online.’

  ‘Yes, but this is different,’ says Tanya. ‘He’s a very powerful man. He’s got money. Fame. Experience. I don’t want you being taken advantage of, that’s all.’

  I nod into my hot chocolate. ‘As far as Marc’s concerned, I never know what to think,’ I say. ‘Some days I feel like I’m getting closer to him. Other times, it’s just ... I don’t know. Weird. I mean the whole thing is weird.’

  ‘You got that right,’ says Tanya. ‘Weird and wrong. He shouldn’t be messing around with a student, no matter how old she is.’

  ‘I know,’ I say. ‘But sometimes ... haven’t you ever been attracted to the wrong person?’

  ‘Never,’ says Tanya, shaking her head. ‘I wouldn’t let myself. It’s not in my mental wiring.’

  ‘Well, sometimes people fall for someone they shouldn’t,’ I say. ‘And if that happens, what can you do?’

  ‘You do whatever you like, and worry about the consequences when it all goes wrong,’ says Tom.

  ‘You control yourself and stop yourself getting involved,’ says Tanya.

  I feel somewhere between their two answers lies the right advice. I’m just not exactly sure what that advice is.

  Chapter 59

  At 6pm, I find myself at the campus gates again, only this time I’m not shivering. I’m wrapped in the cashmere coat Marc bought me, and watching a robin hop along the wrought iron gate.

  A black car pulls up, but it’s not a limo this time. It’s a sleek Mercedes with tinted windows.

  Keith jumps out of the driver’s seat and opens the passenger door for me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, climbing in. ‘How have you been?’

  ‘Not bad,’ says Keith, adjusting the mirror. ‘How are you, young lady? Is Master Blackwell treating you alright? I hope so. I’ve never known him behave this way over a woman. Never.’

  ‘I wouldn’t know how he usually behaves with women,’ I say, staring out of the window. ‘But to me, nothing that’s happened with Marc tells me I’m anything special.’

  ‘You’d be surprised.’ I see Keith smile.

  As the car pulls into Marc’s garage, I see Rodney waiting by the beige Rolls Royce.

  He opens the car door for me. ‘Mr Blackwell has asked me to escort you up to the den,’ he says, opening the door that leads to the house and walking up the steps.

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, following him. ‘Bye Keith.’

  Keith waves at me as I enter the dragon’s cave. The entrance hall smells of polish and lemon juice, and is as cool and sterile as ever.

  ‘The den’s on the first floor,’ Rodney explains, leading me up the huge flight of stairs.

  He takes me towards the back of the house, to a closed door.

  ‘He’s in there,’ he says, knocking on the door ‘Mr Blackwell! Your guest is here.’ With that, he hurries down the stairs.

  I open the door, and see a room of leather sofas, red carpets and glass coffee tables.

  Marc is sitting on one of the sofas, one leg sprawled along its length. He’s holding a small book of Romeo and Juliet, and closes it carefully when he sees me in the doorway.

  ‘Good evening, Sophia.’

  ‘Good evening.’

  ‘Have you eaten yet?’

  I notice a selection of food laid out on a shiny mahogany table. Balls of mozzarella with fresh basil, rustic breadsticks wrapped in ham, cherry tomatoes on skewers, shavings of parmesan cheese. Behind the food are a couple of bottles of red wine, and a bottle of white sits chilling in a glass ice bucket.

  I shake my head. ‘No. Not yet. I had a lot to think about today. I didn’t feel much like eating.’

  ‘I had a few things I thought you might like brought up for you.’

  ‘You thought I might like Italian food?’ I notice the parmesan looks very fresh, and the mozzarella is the delicious gooey kind you only usually find in Italy.

  ‘It’s the best food in the world,’ he says.

  ‘My mother was from Italy,’ I say. ‘I go back there sometimes. It’s true. The food there is amazing.’

  Marc’s mouth hints at a smile. ‘You’re half Italian?’

  I nod.

  ‘I should have known. Take a seat.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I take a seat on the sofa, feeling the familiar effect Marc has on me. Knee trembles, a slight sickness and an overwhelming sense of excitement.

  ‘You look nervous,’ says Marc, placing the book on a huge, square glass coffee table at the centre of the room. The table is empty, except for a gold bottle opener, a remote control and half a bottle of Peroni. ‘Wine?’

  ‘I am nervous,’ I admit. ‘And I’ll take beer if you have it.’

  Marc grins at me, and my insides go soft. ‘Beer? Not such a delicate thing after all.’ He opens the arm of the sofa, and I see six beers inside. He opens one and passes it over. I feel his fingers against mine and shiver. The beer is cold
, so I guess the hole under the sofa arm must be some sort of fridge.

  ‘Thanks,’ I say, taking a long sip.

  ‘So.’ Marc sits up and steeples his fingers together. ‘You must be wondering what I have planned for you this evening?’

  I nod. ‘Yes. Wondering, nervously.’

  ‘Come sit next to me, Sophia.’ I do. The leather sofa creaks as I sit down, and Marc turns to look at me. ‘You’re beautiful.’

  I don’t know what to say, so I take another sip of beer. There’s a tension in the room. I know we can both feel it. I’m aching for him to touch me, but as usual this is all at his pace. I’m pretty sure if I try to touch him, he’ll stop me.

  Marc turns to the television and picks up the remote. ‘I’ve been educating you about losing your inhibitions,’ he says. ‘Showing you how to let go. Now I’d like to take the other perspective. I’d like you to watch movies of other people letting go.’

  ‘What?’ I feel scared, suddenly. What does he mean? I have an uneasy feeling that he’s going to show me films of other women he’s been with. ‘I’m not sure I’m up to what you’re suggesting,’ I say, swallowing more beer. ‘If you want me to watch your other women -’

  ‘I don’t.’ Marc holds up a hand.

  ‘So what is it you want me to watch?’

  ‘Something that I hope will open up some of your inhibitions.’

  I clutch my beer like a life support.

  He presses the remote control and a classroom fills the screen. There’s a man standing by a blackboard, a mortar cap on his head, and a swooping black cape around his shoulders. He’s dressed as an old-fashioned teacher stereo-type, but he’s young, handsome and tanned.

  A woman walks into the room, dressed in a Britney Spears-style school uniform, sucking a lollipop. She has bleached blonde hair, and huge breasts squeezed against a white blouse. She’s clearly no teenage school girl, and I’m guessing she’s in fact a few years older than me.

  The camera moves very close to her mouth, filming her sucking at the lollipop. She moves her tongue around it, and pouts at the teacher.