The Suit and His Switch Claim Their Sub (3 page)

“Sweets,
I am never too busy for you. Besides,” the sound of a muffled moan had her
crinkling her nose. “I’ve already taken care of Brody.”

“Good
grief, Austin.” Blythe leaned against her headboard and breathed out.

“Sorry.
So tell me how it went.”

“Good,
I suppose. I knew this whole gig was last minute, but I didn’t realize how
quickly everything would move.”

“What
do you mean?”

Blythe
told Austin everything, right down to the trip overseas tomorrow and her
incredible, hot new boss.

“Damn.
I wish I was going instead of you. Dietrich Moore is one
helluva
man.” She certainly couldn’t deny that. “How do you plan on getting anything
done when you’re going to be close to him like that?”

“Hell
if I know.” They talked for a few more minutes, and she promised to call him as
soon as she landed not matter what time it was. She was going to have a long
night if she planned on knowing everything there was to know about The Bear.

****

By
the time the car picked her up at four p.m. sharp Blythe knew Mr. Moore’s
schedule like it was her own. She had also been too curious not to do a little
deeper digging on who she actually worked for. Oh, she had known the basics
before she started working for him, but there had been rumors about Mr. Moore,
and she had turned to the only source she could to find out if they were real.
The Internet.
Apparently her rugged, devilishly handsome boss
had a little extra on the side, although Blythe didn’t know if “Boy Toy”, as
dubbed by the paparazzi, was the correct term to describe the ex-quarterback,
Stellan Alfonso. The images she found showed the two men in casual enough
situations. Despite the fact Mr. Moore and Mr. Alfonso never denied a
relationship together, they didn’t confirm it either, but there was no mistaking
that one of the pictures she found was of Dietrich gripping Stellan’s throat
while he kissed him. Blythe had been surprised by how much she enjoyed the
photo. The arousal had been intense and immediate, but it wasn’t just the fact
that two gorgeous men had been
kissing,
it was also
the clear dominance in Dietrich’s grip. Now she was headed to another country
where none other than Stellan Alfonso worked. Would she see them touch each
other, or heaven help her … kiss? Before she could really draw up the naughty
images in her head the black Mercedes she was currently in pulled onto the
airstrip.

The
private jet owned by Moore Corporation stood alone like some kind of beast. Her
door was opened only moments later, and a man in livery smiled down at her.

“Miss
Winters?” He held his hand out to her, and she took it. Offering him a smile in
return, she let her gaze travel back to the monstrous piece of machinery before
her. “Here, let me help you with your bags.” Blythe pulled her attention back
to the man and felt her face heat. How obvious was it that this was her first
time? She turned and saw him grab her bags from the trunk of the car. “I’m
Walter, one of Mr. Moore’s personal flight attendants.” He gestured with his
chin toward the aircraft. “Please follow me. The flight is just over seven
hours long, but with the time change it will feel more like twelve.” He
gestured for her to take the stairs first that led up to the jet.

“So
when should we arrive there?” When she stepped inside she took a moment to
appreciate the interior. The cabin had six cream-colored reclining chairs, four
to her right and two to the left. A large flat screen television was built into
one of the walls, and a door separated the cockpit and galley.

“Departure
is at five p.m. sharp, so as long as everything goes smoothly, and we don’t run
into any inclement weather we should arrive a bit after five a.m. Lisbon time.
“If you’ll have a seat I’ll bring you a glass of champagne, if that is all right?”

She
was technically on the clock and didn’t know how Mr. Moore would feel about
alcohol consumption, so instead she asked for a glass of water.

 
“I’ll bring it right away. Mr. Moore should be
present shortly.”

Blythe
took a seat by the window and set her purse on the empty seat beside her. Her
view wasn’t anything spectacular, but the only other time she had been on a
plane was when she had gone to see her father years ago. That had been a trip dreaded
horrid trip of becoming reacquainted with a man that had skipped town when she
was younger. Needless to say she had written him out of her life and had never
looked back, or got on any more planes for that matter. The sound of doors
slamming shut drew her attention to her right, and she looked out the opposite
windows. When she saw Dietrich striding toward the jet, his pewter colored suit
looking sharp on his tall, muscular body, her mouth went dry.

Get it together,
girl. This is your boss for the next four weeks.
Do not
fuck this up.
He entered the cabin, and
his eyes found hers immediately. The scent of his cologne filled her nose, and
she felt her traitorous body light up like a damn explosion. It was even worse
when he took the seat across from her.

“I
take it the drive to the airstrip was without incident?” He asked just as a
young female flight attendant stepped beside him and smiled appreciatively.

“Good
evening, Mr. Moore. I’m Sandra and will be filling in for Rebecca during your
flight. May I start you off with a glass of champagne?” How had Blythe not seen
her? Her little black outfit was ridiculously tight and about three inches too
short. Her cleavage was up to her neck, and her lips were so swollen, most
likely from Botox, that it made it look like she got in a fight with a vacuum
and lost miserably.

Keeping
his eyes on Blythe, he said, “I’ll take a scotch, neat.” When the flight
attendant didn’t move he looked at her pointedly and said, “That will be all.”
She scurried off, and once again his eyes were on Blythe. It was unnerving that
just one look from him could make her feel completely bare. He cocked one of
his dark eyebrows, and it was then she realized she hadn’t answered his
question.

“Oh,
um, yes. The drive was quite fine. It was only about a twenty-five minute
ride.” She offered a smile, but it fell when his face showed no expression.

“I’m
glad it went well. I apologize to keep you waiting, but I had a last minute
conference call that I needed to take.”

“It’s
fine, really.” She shifted in her seat when he shrugged off his jacket and
started undoing his cufflinks, then the first few buttons at his throat. Her
gaze was transfixed at the sight of his tanned, muscular throat. It should be
illegal for a man’s neck to look that good. He pushed his sleeves up to show
his thick, equally tanned forearms. Neck and forearms should not be so sexy,
but damn did Dietrich Moore make them look incredibly sexy.

Walter
and Sandra brought their drinks and took their order for dinner. Moments later
the jet was taxiing then lifted in the air. Blythe held onto the armrests as a
bout of turbulence shook the plane. She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes
until she peeled them open after the jet evened out. Dietrich’s steely gaze was
trained on hers. He didn’t say anything as he brought his crystal cut glass to
his lips and took a deep drink. Only after he set his cup back down did he
speak.

“Do
flights bother you, Miss Winters?”

She
smoothed her hands down her skirt and took a deep breath, debating whether to
tell him the truth. In the end she didn’t see a point in lying about her fear
of flying. “I’ve only been on one other flight, but it was a rough one.
Turbulence isn’t really my thing.” The corner of his mouth quirked up, and she
relaxed just a bit. She had a long flight ahead of her, and she needed to sit
back and relax. The way she acted was her own doing. He was just a man, after
all. A very big, scary, and dominating man, but a man nonetheless. Dinner was
served, and they ate in relative silence.

“More
water, Miss Winters?” Walter bent at the waist and smiled down at her.

“Sure,
thank you.”

“Mr. Moore, another scotch, or would you like
something else?”
She looked at Dietrich and saw his gaze
fixated on hers once again. She started to feel a bit unnerved because whenever
she glanced at him his attention was on her. It seemed like forever before he
tore his eyes from her.

“Another
scotch, Walter, and please bring a glass of champagne for Miss Winters.” Walter
nodded and left them alone.

“Water
is fine.”

Sandra
walked by and set a plush blanket and pillow on the seats beside them, and they
were once again left alone.

“I’m
aware of that, but it’s clear your nerves are a bit tight, and it might help.”

Walter
returned with their drinks and asked if there was anything else they needed
before he disappeared into the galley. A look at her watch showed they were
already several hours into their flight. The sun still shone in the horizon but
would be sinking soon as night approached.

“I’d
like to go over your itinerary to make sure I have everything cemented and
there is no room for mistake.
If that is okay, Sir?”
After a moment he cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“First,
I have something for you.” He reached into his briefcase by his feet and pulled
out a thick envelope. He reached in and took out an iPhone,
iPad
,
and black AMEX. She must have taken longer than he liked because he said, “Go
on.”

She
reached out and took the items.

“The
phone is imperative. I must be able to have direct contact with you at all
times.” Blythe knew from the file that she would be staying at a private
beachfront villa that Dietrich owned. Pictures had littered the internet, and
she had instantly fallen in love. “The
iPad
has an
app that has my schedule on it. Everything you need to know about what I’m
doing and when I’m doing it is all on there.”

“And the card?”
She held up the
card and caught his eyes.

“You
will be by my side constantly. I need you to dress the part. Once we get to
Lisbon and are settled in I’ll have someone take you shopping. I’ve already
sent you a text on what you’ll need to buy.”

Blythe
looked down at her clothing and felt heat rise to her face. No doubt she was
red. “I’ve packed clothing, Sir, enough for the whole month.” He let his eyes
travel up and down her body, and she suddenly felt completely naked in front of
him.

“We
will be attending several conferences, meetings, and parties. I need you to
dress the part. Understood?” The way he spoke brooked no argument. She had
never met a man so frustratingly controlling, but there was something inside of
her that melted to his deep voice. It was her own sick desires that made her
feel that way. Only one person knew her dark desires, and that person was most
likely curled up with a ridiculously hot guy back at his apartment.

Blythe
had confessed everything to Austin one drunk-filled night. Admitting that she
fantasized about submitting to a man and giving up her power to someone who would
control the situation brought out a deep-seated lust inside of her. There had
been too many times she lay in her bed, her eyes closed as she imagined her
flesh stinging as strips of leather whipped across it. The thought of pain
filling her was washed away with pleasure. The one serious relationship she had
ended in disaster. Asking Mark to bend her over his lap and spank her with his
belt had resulted in him calling her every name in the book, and storming from
her apartment. That had been over a year ago, and she hadn’t dated since.

Bringing
herself out of her past, she offered Mr. Moore a smile and said, “I understand
completely, Sir. Following orders won’t be a problem.”

“Good,
Miss Winters. That is exactly what I like to hear.” He relaxed further in his
seat and took a sip of his scotch as he watched her. “Go on, Miss Winters.
Brief me.” He smiled for the first time since she had met him. It was all
straight white teeth, but it wasn’t warm and kind. Instead it reminded her of a
lion about to slaughter the lamb.

She
reached for the printout she made earlier of his schedule. The tablet would
come in handy, and she was thankful he had thought of it. It would certainly
make being organized possible. Blythe glanced up a little sheepishly at
Dietrich. Flipping open the notebook she cleared her throat and continued. “You
don’t have a meeting until noon the day after tomorrow. That will give you
enough time to rest beforehand. The meeting should last until two, and then
you’re free until dinner with the Santos account at six p.m.” She continued
with the rest of the week.

“Very
good, Miss Winters.” His smile stayed in place, and the satisfied look on his
face pleased her. Pleasure coursed through her at his praise, and the fact of
the matter was she liked making him happy.

She
brought the flute of champagne to her lips and took a sip of the cool, sweet
liquid. Walter came by and set another long-stemmed glass in front of her and a
short square-cut one in front of Mr. Moore.

“If
you don’t require any further assistance, I’ll leave you to rest.” Walter bowed
to both of them, disappeared into the galley, and closed the door behind him.
The pressure in the cabin had her ears plugged, and she stopped trying to pop
them an hour ago.