The Billionaire From New York City: A Steamy BWWM Billionaire Romance (UNITED STATES OF BILLIONAIRES Book 4)

by Simply BWWM

  Table of Contents

  Chapter1

  chapter 8

  chapter 12

  chapter 13

  THE BILLIONAIRE

  FROM NEW YORK CITY

  UNITED STATES OF BILLIONAIRES BOOK 4

  LENA SKYE

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  Summary

  “First day at a new job and I slept with the CEO, oops!”

  When Brianna Evers came to New York City to start a new job she planned to keep a low profile.

  But after meeting a charming man who offered to take her for a drink she found that one thing soon led to another.

  And before they knew it, the two of them were in bed enjoying a steamy night of passion. A night so good that Brianna never wanted it to end.

  The perfect naughty way to start a new life in the big apple!

  However, the next morning Brianna made a startling discovery. The true identity of her mystery lover was revealed and life as she knew it was about to get even more insane...

  This is a sexy and steamy billionaire romance that you will not be able to put down. Get reading now and enjoying the latest installment from this best selling series.

  Copyright Notice

  The Billionaire From NYC © 2018, Lena Skye

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.

  Contents

  Chapter1

  Chapter2

  Chapter3

  Chapter4

  Chapter5

  Chapter6

  Chapter7

  chapter 8

  chapter 9

  chapter 10

  chapter 11

  chapter 12

  chapter 13

  chapter 14

  Chapter1

  Brianna sat back from her desk and stared at the screen as the design finished rendering. Most of the department had left ten or fifteen minutes before, and, in theory at least, Brianna thought she shouldn’t be staying late on her very first day at the job; but within five minutes of her arrival in the office she’d discovered that the person whose position she was taking had left half a dozen projects unfinished—so there was almost no time to orient her. She’d had to jump right in and get straight to work on finishing as many of the projects as possible.

  Thankfully, the person who had left the vacancy had left detailed notes and plenty of documentation of what the clients they’d been working with wanted. Brianna had worked through lunch—fortunately, one of her new coworkers had been willing to go and collect the delivery she’d ordered from the Japanese restaurant a few blocks from the office—and now, fifteen minutes after everyone else in her department had left for the day, she was finally caught up with everything.

  Brianna took a deep breath and made sure that the file had attached properly to the email she needed to send to the head of the department. She clicked send, and sat back in her chair, and shook her head, hearing the muted clicking of her braids against each other, feeling her hair loosen and tighten as she worked her fingers through the plaits. Once she was sure the email had sent, and she’d checked her list of tasks, Brianna started shutting everything down for the night.

  “Not terrible for a Monday,” she said idly, tossing her empty coffee tumbler into her purse. She’d bought it with the leftover relocation bonus she’d gotten with the job; a sort of good-luck talisman, a symbol of her new career. The job—in New York City, in Manhattan itself, no less—had been a major coup after her first few years of grinding at creative departments in tiny agencies in Florida. When Brianna had actually gotten a response to her resume and cover letter, she’d been shocked; and when they’d flown her into the city and put her up overnight for her interview, she’d been almost alarmed. By the time they’d called her, about a month later, and told her that she had the job—and that they were willing to pay her for relocation—she had made her friend Tiona read the email out loud to her just to confirm it was real.

  Brianna checked everything again, making sure her computer had actually shut down and that her desk was locked up. It wasn’t a major concern—she couldn’t imagine anyone in the department actually trying to steal anything from her desk, especially since she hadn’t even put anything up or in the drawers yet—but it was habit, almost ritual, and put her mind at ease, letting her mentally transition out of the workday. There was still another forty minutes by train, assuming that she managed to get on the right one, and then about three blocks to her apartment in Williamsburg.

  At least I don’t have to drive, she thought, striding towards the elevator. She checked her phone; she still had a full charge—but she noticed that she was going to have to rush to get to the station a couple of blocks from work if she didn’t want to spend twenty minutes waiting on the subway platform.

  She tapped her toe on the floor of the elevator as it made its way down, and felt her heart beating faster. If you don’t make it to the station on time it’s not the end of the world, she reminded herself. It’s just going to be an hour to get home instead of forty minutes. But the thought of just sitting around waiting for the train to arrive, an extra twenty minutes of commute—even assuming she got on the right one—was frustrating after her exhausting day.

  At least I can order delivery, she thought as the elevator finally came to a stop. One of the things that had amazed her in the week since she’d arrived in the city was the sheer volume of restaurants that delivered. She had gone through the delivery services app on her phone three times and while she hadn’t yet gained the courage to try some of the more exotic options—Ethiopian and Vietnamese were on the list within a few blocks of her apartment—she definitely intended to browse as many cuisines as possible.

  Brianna hurried off of the elevator as soon as the doors opened, emerging into the nearly empty lobby of the huge building her company’s offices were in; there was just security and janitorial staff around still, from what she could see—though Brianna recognized that there were probably some other people working even later than she had. Mentally, as she half-jogged towards the doors, she replayed the directions she’d sketched out for herself for getting back to the closest subway stop that would take her on the train to get back to her part of Brooklyn. She had to go three blocks north, and then one block east, and get across the street.

  She was so preoccupied with making sure she knew which way she needed to go and getting there in enough time to catch the train that Brianna didn’t notice someone emerge from the e
levators on the other side of the lobby. Those elevators, headed strictly for the executive suites, were near-silent and tucked away from the line of sight. Brianna looked up from the GPS app on her phone towards the doors, and the man who emerged from the C-class elevators was similarly preoccupied. She hastened her steps even more, thinking of the fact that she still had the stairs to get down at the station, as well as the fact that she had to scan her metropass—and she’d lost precious minutes that morning getting stuck at the turnstyle.

  Brianna only barely saw the man a few moments before she would have collided with him. “Oh! Sorry,” she said, skidding to a stop even as her fast-flowing blood roared in her ears for a moment, her heart stuttering in her chest and her pulse fluttering at her neck. “I was just trying to make sure I got on the right train to get home,” she added, giving the man a quick smile.

  She’d barely taken him in initially, but as her pulse steadied and she took a breath, Brianna had the chance to look the man over; he’d stopped in his tracks just as she had. He was about half a foot taller than her, with dark blond hair and bright blue eyes, a clean-shaven face with angles that would have made a male model envious. He was maybe in his mid-to-late thirties, dressed in a tailored suit with perfectly shined shoes, and the buttons on his cuffs gleamed.

  “No harm, no foul,” the man said, smiling enough to show a glimmer of even, white teeth between his full lips. “Did you just move or something?”

  “I just arrived in the city about a week ago, actually,” Brianna confirmed. “Today was my first day working here.” The man frowned slightly and checked a watch on his wrist—Brianna thought it was one of the newer-generation smartwatches, though the man dropped his arm before she could identify the brand.

  “First day at a new job and you’re here late?” The man shook his head, tsking. “Doesn’t sound like a lucky start for you.” Brianna smiled wryly and shrugged.

  “It happens,” she said. “Apparently the person I’m replacing had to leave earlier than he originally thought, so a bunch of projects were left undone. It definitely beats the usual boring softball first day.” The man chuckled.

  “Well, I certainly hope that you’ve got someone who’s ready to take you out for drinks to celebrate a successful first day,” he said. Brianna snorted.

  “No, I was planning to get home as fast as I could and order in some Chinese while I drink a glass of wine,” she admitted. The wealthy C-level shook his head again, this time disapprovingly.

  “That just won’t do at all,” he told her. “You should be out there tearing up the city!” Brianna chuckled, shrugging again.

  “I’m a bit tired,” she said. She had to admit—very deep down in her mind—that the man seemed charming, but he was obviously staying late as well, and in the same office she worked in.

  “Let me treat you—I was going to dinner anyway, and it’ll be nicer with someone else at the table.” Brianna realized that she’d already missed the window for the next train to take her out to Brooklyn; she would be waiting around for the next one anyway.

  “I don’t know,” she said, glancing at the doors.

  “Don’t tell me that dinner and a cocktail or two doesn’t sound amazing right now,” the man countered.

  “I don’t even know your name,” Brianna protested.

  “Ethan Hale,” the man replied. “And yours?”

  “Brianna Evers,” she said. She extended her hand, and Ethan took it in his. For a moment Brianna was taken out of herself at the sight of the man’s pale, slightly pink-toned fingers wrapped around her dark sepia hand; no matter how many times she made physical contact with someone paler than herself, it always seemed to have that effect of taking her out of her own skin for a moment to consider the visual.

  “Well, Brianna—if I can call you that—please let me take you out for dinner and drinks. It’ll be a great way to cap off your first day at work.” Brianna hesitated for a moment longer as she took her hand back, but then decided—on impulse—to just go along with it.

  She wouldn’t be getting home for at least an hour anyway, and depending on where she and Ethan went for dinner, she might be able to get a more convenient train home. Besides, she hadn’t had much of a nightlife experience since her arrival a week before, and she didn’t entirely want to wait for Friday to get her first experience of a good Manhattan bar or restaurant.

  “As long as you promise not to hold me up for more than about an hour,” she said teasingly. Ethan grinned.

  “How about this: if I keep you for more than an hour, I’ll pay for you to take a cab home,” he countered. “That way you’re not sitting around waiting for the subway, or getting lost.” Brianna raised an eyebrow at that.

  “I live out in Brooklyn,” she pointed out. Ethan shrugged.

  “It’s still in the city,” he said dismissively. “Unless you’re out there near Bensonhurst or something?” Brianna shook her head.

  “They’re paying me enough to afford a place in Williamsburg,” she said. Ethan raised an eyebrow.

  “Not bad, not bad,” he said with a little smile. “I can definitely afford a cab for you out to Williamsburg—no problem there,” he said.

  “In that case, I will definitely come with you to celebrate a successful first day on the job,” Brianna said. She wasn’t entirely sure it was actually a good idea, but it was a more exciting idea than what she’d had in mind when she’d been making her way out of the building.

  “You are in good hands,” Ethan informed her. “And fortunately, the East Village is a good spot to start your Manhattan restaurant education.” He gestured for Brianna to accompany him out of the building, and for the moment Brianna forgot about the slight headache she had been able to feel budding at her temples, the soreness in her feet from running around the city that morning and from hurrying to and from meetings throughout the day.

  “Yeah, I’ve heard plenty about how good this part of the city is for eating,” Brianna said, falling into step next to Ethan. The glass doors to the building opened as they approached them, and Brianna saw that there was a town car, pulled up to the curb, waiting.

  “I take cabs sometimes, but it’s easier to just have a guy,” Ethan told her confidentially. “At least, for me. Sometimes it’s just not worth the waiting time to flag one down, or wait for someone to dispatch to you…” He shrugged. The driver of the town car got out and walked around to the back seats, opening the door on the passenger side.

  “Must be nice to have that kind of money,” Brianna said, keeping a playful note in her voice.

  “It is, actually,” Ethan confirmed. He paused at the open back door to the car and gestured for Brianna to get in first.

  “So, where are we headed?” Brianna settled into the seat—plush, butter-soft leather, she noted absently—and looked up as Ethan climbed in next to her.

  “Well I was thinking of sushi—but if you had something else you wanted for your first big-restaurant meal, there are a bunch of really great Italian joints around here,” Ethan told her.

  “Sushi sounds good,” Brianna told him.

  “Take us to Jewel Bako, Nate,” Ethan told the driver. Brianna shifted in her seat, trying not to feel faintly uncomfortable in the luxurious surroundings, wondering if she was doing something that was going to backfire on her.

  “If you like sushi, you’ll love it there,” Ethan said, turning his attention back onto her. “So, tell me about yourself.” Brianna took a breath and tried to decide where to start. It was turning into an interesting night indeed.

  Chapter2

  “I don’t think I’ve eaten that well in months,” Brianna said, sitting back slightly and shaking her head. Ethan smiled, bringing a sake cup up to his lips. He’d seized on his luck as soon as he’d gotten the confirmation that Brianna had just finished her first day on the job and was new in the city; she was entirely too beautiful to just let her go on her way if he could help it—and he had an idea in mind for the new employee that would take some care
ful maneuvering, and a little time.

  “The wonderful thing about sushi is you can be full but not feel all bloated and comatose,” Ethan told her. He looked her up and down quickly; Brianna was dressed in perfect business attire: a fitted blazer and skirt, with low heels, along with a conservative top in sapphire blue that brought out the warm tones of her dark skin.

  Her hair was confined in tight braids that started in swirls against her scalp, spiraling out from her face and then into a ponytail that fell to her shoulders. Brianna had—Ethan could tell—a toned, healthy body under her business-correct clothing, evidenced by the fitted blazer. He definitely wanted to see all there was to look at underneath the layers of cloth.

  “I’m definitely not bloated or comatose,” Brianna said with a wry grin. Ethan admired the flash of her white teeth against her dark-stained lips, and finished off the sake in his cup.

  “Think you have room for something sweet?” He’d already signaled the waiter to bring their bill, and he’d told Brianna not to even look at the prices on the menu—he had more money to throw at the meal than she could possibly spend. They’d started with edamame and Japanese mushrooms cooked en papillote, and Ethan had ordered a larger roll with eel and shrimp, along with one of snow crab, avocado, and cucumber, while encouraging Brianna to take the sushi selection fixed-price options.

  They’d shared across the table, both of them sipping plenty of the sake that Ethan had ordered for them, pointing out that neither of them were going to drive and it wasn’t so late that they couldn’t make it to the office the next day.

  “It’s getting close to nine,” Brianna demurred.

  “You don’t have to take the subway, and I don’t have anywhere too far in mind,” Ethan countered. “There’s a great ice cream place just down the block from here: Oddfellows.”