Since being in a relationship with Stellan Alfonso for the past three years, they had been searching for the perfect female submissive to join their relationship. There had been a few over the years whom they thought made a good match, but for one reason or another it never worked out. Dietrich was glad that had been the case, because seeing Blythe Winters bent over his desk had sent all sorts of filthy thoughts slamming into his head. She was the one for him and Stellan. That he was certain of.

  When he first met Stellan he had been instantly attracted to the powerful man. Dietrich never saw himself as gay, but there was no denying what he felt. He was secure enough with his sexuality not to give a fuck what anyone else thought. His sub had been the VP of one of the up and rising investment banks in the Northeast. His company had assisted with several high profile cases, and when everything had gotten settled Dietrich had gone after what he wanted. Stellan was the CEO of his father’s company and worked mainly out of the Lisbon headquarters. Despite their long-distant relationship both men made it imperative to get together at least two weekends a month, whether it be Dietrich going to Portugal or Stellan coming to him.

  Stellan wasn’t only a sub, and he didn’t like only men. He liked to dominate as well, and his taste for woman was just as strong as Dietrich’s. The only thing just as good as controlling Stellan in the bedroom was watching him take control of another sub. The natural dominance in the boy’s actions made him just as hard as when he submitted to Dietrich.

  The way Stellan obeyed him so easily made their pairing explosive. Stellan was thirty-nine, only five years younger than Dietrich, but he liked his subs a bit younger than him. In fact he liked the idea that Stellan had fallen to his knees and obeyed Dietrich’s orders instantly. He had a feeling Miss Winters wouldn’t be such an easy sub as his Stellan was, but that was okay because when they did break her and she became theirs irrevocably, there wouldn’t be anything sweeter in the world.

  ****

  Three hours later and Blythe was completely packed and had papers strewn across her bed as she ate takeout from the box. Her cell was pressed between her ear and shoulder as she picked up one schedule, memorized it, and moved on to the next.

  “Mom, it isn’t like I’m going to the moon. It’s only a business trip for four weeks, and I’m not even entirely sure it will be that long.”

  Her mother’s sigh was so loud Blythe pulled the cell away from her ear. “I don’t know why you agree to these short term jobs, honey. You should go back to school, honey, and finish your degree. It just doesn’t make any sense.” It was Blythe’s turn to sigh.

  “Mom, we’ve gone over this. Mom, my degree was for dance, and since I clearly can’t do that anymore what is the point of continuing?” Blythe wasn’t about to tell her mother that even the thought of dancing had her stomach cramping. One would think years after an accident she could move on, but the time didn’t make anything easier.

  “I just think you should do something more productive than being a temp.”

  Blythe rolled her eyes even though her mom couldn’t see her. This conversation was a broken record every time she called home. “Yeah, well, I guess like goes this way for some people.” Blythe wasn’t about to get into this with her again. “Maybe I’ll start school again in the spring. I’ll think about it, but can you please not bring it up every time we talk?” Her mom started rambling on about the poor dirt quality in her backyard when Blythe had to cut her off. Clearly her mother tuned her out once again. “Listen, I’ve got a lot to do before tomorrow, so I’m going to let you go. I’ll bring my cell, so I’ll check in.” After she hung up she dialed Austin, her best friend and the only person she could bitch at.

  She held the phone between her ear and shoulder again and resumed memorizing. Austin answered right before she was sure voicemail would have picked up.

  “So, how was it?” Austin’s deep voice came through the receiver. There was the sound of sheets rustling and then the low, masculine murmur that was most definitely not Austin.

  “I’m not going to get into it if you’re busy.” Blythe could just imagine how “busy” Austin was. Her best friend was gay, but with that being said he was also the most attractive and intelligent man she knew. He was also proud of who he was and didn’t give a shit what anyone else said about him. Most people thought he was straight, what with the way his deep voice would have any woman dropping her panties, or the fact he always had a hand on her, but of course their relationship wasn’t like that. They had known each other for the past three years, had even met through the same temp agency. The two of them had hit it off and become friends right away. Now Austin was the only person whom she could rely on and who would never judge her, not even when she told him some of her more sordid secrets, ones she was humiliated by.

  “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.