The Suit and His Switch Claim Their Sub (4 page)

“Tell
me a bit about yourself, Miss Winters.” His voice was soft and deep, and she
felt herself wanting to tell him about herself. She wasn’t quite sure she liked
that feeling.

Chapter
Three

“I’m
not sure what you’d like to know about me, Sir.”

Dietrich
shifted in his seat again at the way she said
Sir
. The images that lone word conjured up had him praying she
didn’t see how hard his cock was. Every time she glanced out the window he
quickly adjusted himself, not just for comfort but because his fucking cock was
ready to burst through his slacks.

“I’d
like to know whatever you’re willing to share with me, Miss Winters.” If he was
going to have her submitting to him and Stellan he wanted to know everything
about her. And if she didn’t want to divulge information, well then he might
have to whip it out of her. That thought had him nearly groaning from desire.

“Well,
I’m twenty-three. I was born and raised in Ohio, but moved to New York about
three years ago. I studied liberal arts at NYU, but life got in the way, and I
didn’t end up graduating. I had to make a few adjustments. I ended up getting
work through the temp agency and have been doing it ever since.” Dietrich
hadn’t missed the way she avoided eye contact and shifted when she brought up
having to change paths regarding her studies. He didn’t want to press her if
she was uncomfortable, but he wanted to know everything there was to know about
Blythe Winters, especially if he planned on bringing her into a relationship
with Stellan.

“What
area were you studying?” The sun was starting to set, and Walter turned on the
cabin lights. He kept them low, but it was enough that it allowed Dietrich to
see the subtle emotions that played across Blythe’s face. She crossed her legs,
and his eyes followed the curve of her calf to her thigh. The skirt she wore
crept almost indecently up her thigh, and he knew if she realized how much skin
he could see she most likely would have been appalled. Before she realized
where his gaze was he looked back at her face. She was staring out the window
with an almost faraway expression on her face.

“Ballet.”
She looked at
him and smiled sadly. “I used to be a ballerina.” She chuckled, but it was
humorless. “Sounds kind of ridiculous when I say it out loud, like I’m a little
girl with a dream of what I want to be when I grow up.” He didn’t know what to
say, not when the pain was clear in her voice. She cleared her throat, and the
smile she gave him was forced, but he didn’t delve deeper. If he wanted her
trust, wanted her to relinquish herself to him, mind, body, and soul, he needed
to tread carefully. It was clear this was a very sensitive subject for her.

“Mr.
Moore, can I get you anything?” Sandra appeared almost out of thin air and leaned
in close to him. The scent of her cloying perfume was suffocating.

“I’m
fine. Thank you.” He gave a pointed look at the flight attendant and saw the
expression on her face. It was one he had seen countless times. With the kind
of wealth he had it was inevitable to attract attention of the sexual kind.
Women flocked to him, despite his adamant arguments he was not interested. He
may have accepted their company before he met Stellan, but since taking on his
submissive lover there hadn’t been any other female or male who held his
attention. That is, until he saw Blythe Winters in his office. He had known he
wanted her before she even turned around and looked in his eyes. “Maybe Miss
Winters would care for something?
Another glass of champagne
perhaps?”
Blythe’s smile this time was genuine, and he felt something
inside of him shift.

“I’m
fine. Thank you, Mr. Moore.”

Dietrich
didn’t know if he liked hearing “Sir” or “Mr. Moore” come from those pretty,
red lips of hers. When he realized Sandra had yet to leave he waved her off and
said, “Thank you, Sandra, but I think Miss Winters and I are content for the
time being. If we need you I’ll be sure to call.”

“Yes, Sir.”
Sandra turned
and disappeared toward the back of the cabin and behind the galley door.
Hearing the flight attendant use the same title Blythe used didn’t have the
same effect on him.

“So,
Miss Winters, I’d love to hear about your endeavors
en pointe
.” She looked down at her lap, and her dark blonde hair made
a curtain around her face. He found he didn’t like her hiding what she felt
from him. He leaned forward, knowing that he was overstepping the boundaries he
set for himself, but unable to stop himself. He tilted her head up with his
finger under her chin. Her light green eyes widened at his blatant close
proximity. He brushed her hair away from one side and curled it around her tiny
ear. He let his finger trail over the delicate shell, marveling that her flesh
was soft and smelt of soap and something lightly floral.

“Mr.
Moore?” His name came from her as a whisper, and he found his gaze trained on
his mouth. “What are you doing?” There was uneasiness in her voice, and that
sound is what had him realizing what he was doing. He let go of her and leaned
back in his seat. The temptation to touch her had been too strong, and he had
crossed a line because of his selfish needs. He would have Blythe Winters, and
so would Stellan, but all of that was in due time. Pushing her too fast would
only end up in pushing her farther back. That was something he wasn’t about to
risk.

“I
apologize, Miss Winters. That was completely inappropriate, but please don’t
hide yourself from me.” He offered her a smile he hoped reassured her.

“It’s
fine. Everything is fine.” She pushed her hair off her shoulders, and he
wondered if he rattled her that badly. “My mother put me in ballet when I was
five after my father … left. I guess she thought it would keep my mind off things
and help me stay busy. I took to it pretty fast and stayed with it all through
high school. I knew I wanted to continue with it, and so I decided to venture
away from home and start fresh in New York.” Her voice was a bit shaky, and he
wondered what had happened in her life and if she would trust him with her
past. She took a deep breath and continued. “I started going to school and
training when I first came to New York. Everything was going great, but then I
hurt myself on stage, and it ended before it even really started.” She grabbed
the blanket that sat on the empty seat beside her. “Nothing violent happened,
and I didn’t have an affair with my instructor.” She was teasing, and he knew
it was her way of deflecting from the seriousness of the topic. “I was
practicing a
pas de
deux
.
Ballet is strenuous on the body to begin with. You get aches in places you
didn’t even know existed.” She started picking at the
hem
of the blanket. “Long story short, my partner didn’t hold me in the right
position, which resulted in me falling and landing awkwardly on my ankle.
Needless to say my career was over. I stopped pointe altogether, even
withdrawing from school.” She unfolded the blanket and laid it over her lap.
“Okay, enough with the depressing topic, Mr. Moore.” She smiled, and it was
filled with so much sorrow Dietrich regretted even bringing it up.

There
were many things he wanted to say to her, things that would bring light to her
eyes again and wash away the disappointment that poured from her. His reaction
to her didn’t surprise him, not when he had felt just as strongly when he first
met Stellan all those years ago. Dietrich relied on his gut and instincts to
make multi-million dollar purchases. Those instincts never failed him, not with
Stellan and certainly not with Blythe. He would teach her how to let go, to
feel free and hand herself over to him with the trust he needed. Dietrich
wouldn’t let her down. In fact, he would help her realize that she could be
free if only she relinquished herself to him. She didn’t need to be burdened
when he and Stellan could help her feel only pleasure, emotional and physical.
He knew his lover as well as he knew himself, and if he had this strong of a
reaction to Blythe then there was no question so would his sub.

Instead
of continuing on with a subject that clearly upset her, he simply said, “Rest
up, Miss Winters.” She nodded and let herself close her eyes. Maybe she
realized how easy it was to obey? She certainly did it so well. He could see
plainly that she was burdened with her emotions, but he would soon show her
there was no need to carry them alone.

****

The
plane landed a little after five a.m. local time, just as Walter said, and now
they were headed toward Mr. Moore’s villa. The car that had been waiting for
them was a sleek Mercedes. Blythe had only been to a few states, so flying
across the ocean to another country was wondrous for her. Everything seemed so
grand and wonderful, even with her jetlag weighing her down. She had woken up a
few times during the night to see Mr. Moore typing away on his laptop, but he
had been far too engrossed in what he was doing to notice her. He named off
stunning buildings they passed on their drive to his home:
Estátua
de Dom Pedro IV, Santa
Engrá
cia
,
and her favorite thus far, the
Mosteiro
dos
Jerónimos
. She wondered if he purposefully took the scenic
route because they were spread out pretty well and it seemed a bit out of the
way, but she wasn’t complaining because it was a spectacular sight.

The
Mosteiro
dos
Jerónimos
, a
church, had sat beautifully alone, with its pointed tips and stunning
architecture. Maybe she would have time to sightsee a bit, to walk within the
castles and churches that had been around for hundreds of years? No, there
probably wouldn’t be time for that, not with Mr. Moore’s chaotic schedule.

The
rest of the ride was made in relative silence, and Mr. Moore spoke on the
phone. His Portuguese was flawless, and Blythe found it quite romantic. Whoever
he spoke to obviously was someone he cared for if his calm voice and gentle
chuckles were anything to go by. Maybe it was his lover, or possibly a fling he
met up with whenever he visited the country? She didn’t let it consume her
thoughts and went back to watching the ocean roll by her. It was glorious and
serene, and she let herself get lost in the pinks and oranges that painted the
horizon. The break of the waves tumbled onto the shore, and the foamy white
deposit it left in its wake made for a hypnotizing view. The car pulled onto a
cobblestoned circular driveway, and Blythe marveled at the villa before her. The
images she had seen certainly didn’t do it justice. The car stopped, and her
door opened only moments later. She climbed out of the car and knew she
probably looked like a tourist as she gawked at the gorgeous structure before
her. The villa was more like a mansion, set right on the water. The sandy
colored stone that made up the three story beach home was a few shades darker
than the sand only a few feet away. Their driver, a tall, thin man going by the
name of Francesco, had thinning wavy black hair and dark brown eyes. He talked
quickly to Dietrich in Portuguese. The language was beautiful and haunting, and
she felt herself get caught up in the melodic quality of it.

They
followed Francesco up the wide front steps that led to the front door on the
first level. Blythe let her hands travel over the wrought iron railing, the
metal warmed from the sun. The first level housed a porch with dark brown patio
furniture. The view was stunning even though the ocean was on the other side.
Francesco pushed the all glass front door open, and she followed the two men
inside. The chilled air from the air conditioner hit her, and she shivered. Her
heels on the shined white granite beneath her feet sounded like a herd of
elephants stampeding through. The two men started speaking quietly again, and
Blythe took that time to walk around and get familiar with the home. To her
left was a sitting room. The cream colored furniture and earthy tone décor complemented
each other well, but it was the view that stole her breath. Every wall was made
up of glass and made her feel as if she could reach out and touch the ocean.
She walked farther into the sitting room and followed the small hallway to the
right until she came across the dining room. Of course this room was gorgeous,
too, but she ignored the expensive decorations and crystal chandelier and
stopped in front of the glass French doors. She turned the brushed brass knobs,
and the cool, ocean breeze hit her immediately when she pulled the doors open.
A circular veranda was directly in front of her with an intimate
al fresco
sea view. To her left and
right the walkway continued to what she assumed wrapped around the first level.
Above her, another veranda wrapped around the third level.
She stepped onto the stone outcropping and gripped the banister. Below her an
infinity pool sat with a pool side gate that accessed the white sandy beach.
She was in heaven, pure and simple.

The
waves crashed on the shore, and she let the sound take her away. Closing her
eyes she tilted her head toward the sky and smiled as the sun warmed her face.

“It’s
quite a breathtaking view, isn’t it?” Dietrich’s deep voice startled her, and
she spun around, gripping the banister behind her. He leaned against the door
she had left open. He no longer wore his suit jacket, and he had gotten rid of
the tie. His hands were in the front pockets of his slacks as he watched her.