On Wednesday, Callan returned to school. I had really wished that he’d stayed home this entire week, but he’d said he had work to do. And secretly, I believed that work was to do me any possible chance he could find because he cornered me in his classroom during lunch.
work “I’m ready for lunch,” he said, placing me on his desk and moving between my legs.
When he ripped my thong off me, I giggled. “Someone’s feeling better.”
He slid his hands up my bare thighs, lifting them off the desk and holding them apart. He moved his chair closer to the desk and rested one of my thighs on his shoulder, his stubble tickling my inner thigh.
I wasn’t sure if he had found the person who had sent me that head yet, but he’d asked me to let him handle it, so I was going to. No more fighting him to do so
