He wanted to set her over his knee and spank her for her insubordination but somehow he managed to refrain, holding his emotions in check and keeping his expression carefully blank. The only sign of the way his patience was being strained was the darkening of his blue eyes. Well, that could be down to one of two things actually. Lust. It was her scent rather than that bratty attitude of hers that commanded it. He’d come across plenty of bratty teenagers but none of them gave him a hard on.<span style="font-style: italic">Jesus</span>.<br/><br/>Matthew tore his gaze away and looked up to the ceiling, praying to any higher deities that might be listening that he would make it through these next few days without laying a finger on her. Well, within reason. He needed this job. He actually liked this job. Most of the time. It wasn’t that easy to settle down when you spend a good portion of your life running around on all fours and howling at the moon but somehow he had managed to land this job and he was determined to keep it. Beautiful little brats be damned.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">I suppose if he's my escort, that means I can use him for my physical needs as well?</span><br/><br/>He made a strangled noise somewhere between a snort and a groan. Was she fucking kidding? Whirling around he gave her his best, eyes narrowed, lips pressed together, do-not-fuck-with-me glare because, hell, the images flashing through his mind after that were going to keep him up for a week. He was a sick, sick man.<br/><br/>Lost in the images racing through his brain he almost missed the way she owned Wood and then flounced from his office. Almost. Shooting the principal a sympathetic look, he shrugged and headed out into the corridor after her. She would pay for that little jibe later, most likely. He was still itching to spank her but he doubted the school would find that an acceptable punishment.<br/><br/>Swallowing hard, Matthew straightened up and jogged after her, catching her elbow and drawing her to a stop. “Miss Weathers,” his accent was suddenly thick, his voice warm and a shade darker than before. “I don’t think that was a fantastic first impression, do you?” He arched an eyebrow making a half-hearted attempt to keep his gaze focused on her face. "Look I don't give a fuck what you do on your own time but your on mine now and I don't waste my time. Not for anyone. And, like it or not, you will call me 'Sir' or 'Mister Grey'."<br/><br/>If this was going to work he was going to have to be firm with her, let her know exactly who was in charge and definitely...definitely not touch her hair. With a sigh he pulled a piece of paper out of his back pocket. "Timetable. Check what subject you've got first and I'll help you find your way. It's a big school, easy enough to get lost I know I did when I first started working here."