The Dirty Headmaster

The headmaster’s lesson felt so good. My dad sent me to reform school because I was a bad, bad girl. He said the headmaster there was known for his special techniques. But what we didn’t realize is that Grayson Thorn isn’t just an academic. He’s also a man. A tall, muscular man. One with bright blue eyes, a broad chest, and a certain something that makes my mouth water. He showed it to me after class one day, but instead of being afraid I became even more bold. I began to pray. On my knees. That Headmaster Thorn would use his imagination. Explore his wild side. And get creative. Because no matter the consequences, I don’t ever plan on being a good girl now.