The Billionaire From Dallas
Page 1
Table of Contents
Chapter1
chapter 8
chapter 12
chapter 13
THE BILLIONAIRE FROM
DALLAS
UNITED STATES OF BILLIONAIRES BOOK 3
SUSAN WESTWOOD
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Summary
Heading home after a wild night out, the life of Deena Harris was changed forever.
After witnessing a violent murder, she found her own life to be in danger.
So she ran.
And she ran straight into the arms of 32 year old Dallas born billionaire Jake Berrington.
Jake took her under his wing and promised to get her to safety.
But Deena had no idea that this was just the beginning of a passionate and adrenaline filled romantic adventure.....
An adventure of a lifetime.
This is a steamy billionaire romance that is packed full of adult scenes alongside themes of mystery and suspense.
Copyright Notice
The Billionaire From Dallas © 2018, Susan Westwood
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
Deena’s naked body glistened in the moonlight, her breathing hard and fast as she writhed atop the man beneath her. He watched her every move, his hands on her hips, eyes raking over her body. She slid her hands over her chest, moaning when her hands grazed her own nipples, her body sensitive to even her own touch.
“You’re beautiful,” the man said, struggling to breathe in his excitement. “Like the richest chocolate I’ve ever tasted.”
“You’re pretty handsome yourself,” she said, laughing when he dragged his nails over her thighs. “That feels so good.”
“You feel good.”
She leaned down, covering his mouth with hers, riding him faster as her body grew more aroused. They’d been dancing all night at The Nines, one of Deena’s favorite clubs on Main Street in Dallas. When they got hot and heavy on the rooftop dancefloor, she knew she was going to spend the night with Holt. His posh apartment in Victory Park was a short ride from the club and around the corner from the American Airlines Center. He lived in one of the liveliest parts of the city, and Deena was already looking forward to a nice, quiet breakfast at Victory Café down the street.
What had started out as a fun night on the town alone had turned into the start of a great weekend.
Her body was heating up, heartbeat quickening, her breath coming in desperate gasps.
“Are you almost there?” Holt asked, clearly holding on to the last bit of his self-control.
“Almost,” she gasped. “Almost.”
He pulled her down to him, holding her against his bare chest, her lips against his shoulder.
“I hope you’re a biter,” he whispered.
“I am now,” she teased.
She thrust once more, harder and deeper, then her body exploded in a sea of heat and light, her scattered thoughts flung to the wayside until all that was left was her need. She rode him hard and fast, smiling when she heard him start to lose himself. She bit his shoulder, muffling her own cry and sending him over the edge.
They bucked and writhed together, each pushing closer to the height of climax. Deena came first, taking a deep breath and about to scream when Holt pulled her closer, his large hand on the back her head. The pillow behind him caught her scream, but she was too lost in the moment to care.
His hands were on her ass, fingers digging into her curves so he could bury himself inside her. Arching her back, she drove into him forcefully until his breath caught and he froze for an instant. Satisfied, she smiled and wrapped her arms around him right before he lost himself. He held her tight and slammed into her. She bit his shoulder in response, holding onto him until they both fell to the bed, exhausted, trembling and gasping for air.
Deena laid in his arms, her head on his chest, laughing with each aftershock that ripped through her body. Running her short, turquoise nails over his chest, she watched his body soften and listened to his slow breathing.
“That was amazing,” he said when he could finally talk without gasping. “You are just…wow. I always heard that black girls were wild in bed-”
She tensed, but she let it go, letting out a sigh and reminding herself that she’d said her fair share of cringe-worthy things right after sex. Maybe not that tone deaf, but she wasn’t going to let it ruin the weekend.
“Sorry, that came out wrong,” he said.
“No worries.”
She snuggled against him, and he rubbed her back, smoothing her braided hair out of her face.
“The sun will be up in a couple of hours,” he said quietly.
“I know. I can’t wait to have a low-key breakfast and just chill.”
“That sounds fun. What about your car? I heard they’re cracking down on cars left overnight in the Deep Ellum neighborhood. I heard they start ticketing at sunrise, and I wouldn’t want you to get a ticket.”
“You’re right. Do you have a car?”
“I do.”
“Are you good to drive?”
“Drive where?”
“To The Nines, so I can pick up my car.”
He stopped stroking her hair, and something in Deena’s mind went on alert. Something wasn’t right, and it looked like an otherwise great night was about to take a turn.
“I can’t. I have to pick my buddy up from the airport.”
“It’s two miles down the road.”
She was sitting up now, looking at him in the semi-lit room, the moonlight and the streetlights casting gray shadows on his face.
“I can’t take you. If you call for an Uber now, it’ll be here before I have to leave.”
“I didn’t know you had time constraints,” she muttered.
“I didn’t want to kill the mood. But my buddy is landing at eight, and I have to pick him up.”
“It’s four in the morning, and both airports are within twenty minutes of here. Why do you need four hours?”
“Look, I’m not trying to be a dick, but I have to clean up. I can’t have my buddy coming home to the apartment smelling like sex, you know?”
“I guess I don’t,” she said, her temper flaring. “I thought this was your place, but why does it matter
to your roommate if you have overnight guests?”
He laughed.
“I couldn’t afford this apartment if I wanted to. Cody was out of town for a few months, and he asked me to house sit so I could get out of the house.”
“What house?” she asked, but she had a feeling that she already knew.
“My parents’ house. They’re all over me to get a better job and stuff, but it’s stupid. I’m living my life now, and I’m happy. You would think that’s enough for them.”
Her heart sank. She expected people to fib a little at the club, but as Holt sobered up, Deena could see his entire story unraveling so fast it was dizzying. She pulled the blanket around her chest and pulled away when he reached for her.
“Come on, Diva. Everyone tells a little white lie at the club. We had fun, didn’t we?”
“My name is Deena,” she corrected. “And saying you lived in luxury apartments when you’re just housesitting so you can get out of your parents’ house is hardly a little white lie. Do you really work at-”
“No.” He cut her off. “To be honest, I don’t even remember where I told you I worked.”
Her mouth dropped open, and she stared at him.
“Was anything you told me the truth?”
He shrugged.
“My name is Holt.”
“Charming,” she said. She yanked the sheet off the bed, keeping it around her as she gathered the clothes up off the floor. “Could you call me an Uber? I left my wallet in my car.”
“That was silly,” he said. His tone was so nonchalant she wanted to punch him, but she focused on finding her other shoe and staying calm. “I don’t have the funds for an Uber. But I have a few bucks if you want to catch the city bus; you’re definitely worth that much. I believe it starts running at four thirty or so, and it’s right around the corner.”
He opened his wallet and tossed a handful of ones to the end of the bed, but she didn’t even look at them. She saw red, but she went into the bathroom, locking the door and pulling on her clothes in a hurry. She was furious, but lashing out wasn’t going to do her a bit of good.
After getting dressed in a hurry, she left the bathroom, leaving the sheet where it fell. She headed straight for the door, and when Holt called out to her, it was almost the last straw.
“Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?” he asked.
She shook her head, stepping out of the apartment and giving the door a good, solid slam as she closed it. The doorframe shook, leaving a satisfied smile on her lips as she walked away. Down the hall, a door slowly crept open, and an older woman peeked out. When their eyes met, Deena smiled.
“What’s going on?” the woman whispered.
“I went to see my friend Cody, but there’s another guy in there, claiming he’s renting the place from Cody.”
The woman shook her head.
“The Arpeggio doesn’t allow subletting,” she said. “It’s strictly against the rules. We have to keep the riffraff out somehow.”
Deena almost laughed, but she managed to keep a straight face.
“The apartment smells funny,” she said, looking worried.
“Do you think that he killed Cody?”
Deena shrugged.
“Murderer or illegal sub letter; isn’t it all the same thing?” she asked innocently.
“You’re right,” the woman said. “I’m going to call it in.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Deena said. “You have a blessed night.”
The woman smiled at her, then waved her away.
“You’d better get out of here before the police get here. If he is a murderer, it would be horrible if he blamed you for turning him in.”
“Thank you,” she said to the woman, hurrying away and making a quick left down a hall with a sign at the end that said exit.
She had no intention of sticking around, as much as she wanted to enjoy the show. She had a feeling that Holt was going to be late picking Cody up, but he would learn what kind of bottom dweller he’d trusted to watch his house, and hopefully not make the same mistake again.
The air was crisp but not too cold as she walked outside into the darkness. I-35 was quiet on the bridge high above the roads, her footsteps echoing off the buildings along the empty roads with each step. She made her way down the street, the looming American Airlines Center at the end of the block. She knew the bus stop was there, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t have any money left, so the bus wasn’t an option anyway.
She groaned, crossing Victory Avenue and going down Olive Street. It was only a little over two miles to where her car was parked on Main Street. She would have to meander through the city streets to get there from where she was, but she would be there before the bus ran, anyway.
Holt had forgotten it was Saturday. The bus wasn’t going to run for at least another hour, since no one had to get to work this early in the morning. The neighborhood was known for its posh apartments and upscale, urban vibe, but there was still plenty of crime in the area. With the diminished police force and the highway being right there, she would be taking her chances sitting at a bus stop alone for even fifteen minutes; an entire hour would be beyond foolish. She was safer moving. That was a given.
She pulled out her phone, keeping her eyes on the road around her even though the street was deserted. Her friend answered on the second ring, her voice thick and husky with sleep.
“Did you bag a rich man?” Tamika asked.
“Not hardly, Tamika. You are not going to believe this guy.”
She recounted the night to her best friend, laying it all out one lie at a time and building up to the finale.
“Girl, he’s trippin’,” Tamika said. “Please tell me you used protection.”
“Always.”
“Good. Man,” she whispered in disbelief. “What a damn fool.”
“I know. He acted like everyone lies about living in the Arpeggio apartments. Like that’s a normal lie.”
“I wonder how bad that’s going to bite him in the ass.”
As if on cue, Deena heard sirens on the street behind her, and saw the flash of two police cars as they raced down Victory toward the apartments.
“Sounds like now,” Deena laughed.
“Funny how fast they get there for rich folk,” Tamika hissed.
“It’s a different precinct than Richardson. You know that.”
“I’m sorry. I know your daddy was a cop, and I shouldn’t be so mad about that, but you know how I feel.”
“I do.”
Deena was still walking, almost a mile away from Victory Ave at this point and making good time. She’d already turned down Field Street, following her phone’s GPS to find the quickest route on foot. She turned left on Cedar Springs Road, walking down the empty street, an empty shopping center on one side, a parking structure and construction that had been abandoned for the weekend on the other side. The road was closed to thru traffic, but Deena wasn’t about to double back and take a longer route.
There was a shadowy figure ahead, and Deena’s heart set to racing.
“Girl, let me call you back,” she said into the phone, hanging up before Tamika had a chance to argue.
She pocketed the phone, thankful she’d worn her favorite black, wide-legged pants out clubbing. They were military-style fatigues, but with legs wide enough to fit her whole body in one side, and a waist slung low on her hips. She had paired it with a tight top and a black, faux fur vest that was cropped to make her torso look longer. She’d picked the outfit because she looked hot in it, but now that she was in danger, she was grateful to have her pepper spray within reach.
She reached into the pocket on her leg, pulling out the tiny canister of pepper spray and holding it in her hand. Meant to be attached to a key ring, she’d always kept it loose, so she could hide it in the palm of her hand. If she were ever attacked, she didn’t want the sound of her pulling her keys from her pocket to alert the criminal.
The figure was getting closer, and Deena
was preparing for the worst.
I’m going to be pissed if I get mugged tonight, she thought. It wasn’t like the mugger was going to get much, but that wasn’t the point. She was just mad enough to empty the cannister in his face, then beat him up for good measure.
“I’m in no mood for this,” she said into the darkness. “I’m armed.”
She wasn’t lying, but she was counting on the man to assume she was talking about a gun. She was in Texas, after all. Maybe she should get a gun and carry it. She was wishing for one now, as the man hobbled ever closer.
He was hunkered over, clearly drunk and holding his stomach. She squinted into the darkness, cursing whoever had thought it a good idea to turn off the street lights while the construction was ongoing.
Her stomach churned, and her adrenaline kicked up a notch. Something was wrong with the man, but he was still approaching her. What was worse was that he was focused on Deena, and she didn’t want him to be. Sometimes, they would walk right by, oblivious to everything around them. She wanted him to walk by and just keep going, but that wasn’t going to happen. This man was far from oblivious; he was staring right at her.
She realized that he was whispering something, but he was still several yards away, and she wasn’t entirely sure he was talking to her. Maybe he couldn’t see her in the dark, and she was imagining the eye contact? She was wearing all black, and as dark as she was without the aid of street lights, it was possible that he couldn’t make her out in the dark now that she was standing completely still. Still, she wasn’t taking any chances.
His voice got louder, and she could tell that he was trying with everything he had to yell, but something was wrong. He wasn’t drunk or ill. In fact, the closer Deena got, the more she was sure that he was injured.
When she finally heard his voice carried on the soft wind that blew through the empty streets, her blood ran cold. He was still a good distance away, but his voice was as clear as day this time, and she knew without a doubt that he was talking to her.