The Billionaire From Atlanta

by Susan Westwood

  THE BILLIONAIRE FROM

  ATLANTA

  THE UNITED STATES OF BILLIONAIRES BOOK 2

  ALEXIS GOLD

  SIMPLY BWWM

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  Summary

  Celeste Everett needed a bit of naughty fun to break up the monotony of work and studying and she knew just where to find it.

  After swiping right on a dating app she had a date with a handsome man named Kevin Hartford.

  It was meant to be one hot night of intimacy but sparks flew and one night turned into two. And two turned into something else entirely.

  It was the best sex of her life.

  However, Celeste had no idea who Kevin really was and what he really wanted. But soon enough all the secrets would be out. Including her own...

  This is a BWWM Billionaire Romance featuring two people from totally different worlds finding love in Atlanta. Hot and steamy scenes are featured!

  Copyright Notice

  The Billionaire From Atlanta © 2018, Alexis Gold

  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

  One dim light bulb offered a half-hearted glow in the tiny bathroom of the small garden level apartment. The woman standing over the sink leaned forward, bringing her face closer to the mirror. She peered carefully at her reflection, checking that her makeup was good, before bringing a tube of red lipstick to her mouth and carefully smoothing the color over her full, rounded lips.

  A moment later she retouched her mascara wand to the thick frame of long black eyelashes around her warm brown eyes, and then blinked a few times to make sure her lashes were dry. Sliding the wand back into the tube of mascara, she stood up straight again and gave herself a studious look.

  Her short black hair was set in big curls around her head, in an almost vintage pin-up sort of fashion. Her delicate-looking face was perfectly made up, highlighting her narrow cheekbones and jawline, her evenly set big brown eyes, her narrow nose and her rosebud mouth. The narrowness of her neck gave her an elegant air, while the rest of her form added to that. She was slender, save for her feminine curves which complemented her slight frame.

  Celeste Everett turned one way and then the other, bringing her gaze down the reflection of her body in the long, narrow mirror on the back of the bathroom door. She wore a finely knit buttercup yellow sweater dress that hugged her form gently from the shoulders to the knees, offering a hint at what lay beneath it, without giving away too much of a view of her skin at the same time. The color of the dress brought out the golden honey tones in her chocolate-colored skin, making her look as if she might be getting more sunshine than she really did.

  Satisfied with her results, she reached for a bottle of sweet-smelling perfume and dabbed a bit behind her ears and on her wrists. As she put the bottle back on the shelf behind the bathroom mirror, she glanced at her cell phone and her cheeks warmed slightly. There was a message on the dating app that she had recently put onto her phone.

  It was from a man named Kevin, whom she had swiped right on and begun talking to over the app messaging system. He wasn’t her usual type at all; to begin with, he was white. She hadn’t ever dated a white man before, but she liked his genuine friendly smile that he seemed to flash in most of his pictures, and she also liked his green eyes and wavy brunette hair, styled so nicely and cut above his collar. He was well built, at least as much as she could see in his photographs. Kevin hadn’t posted any images of himself without a shirt, which she liked, it felt more like he wasn’t selling himself as a sex object, which was a tremendous irony, as the app was geared more toward intimate meetups than actual dating. No one who used the app was looking for a relationship.

  Celeste hadn’t been sure if she ought to use the app to begin with, but she had been single for over a year and loneliness had finally caught up to her. Her days were filled working full time at the grocery store down the road as a checkout clerk, and going to night school to get a bachelor’s degree in business. She had no time for dating, and she didn’t know anyone in her regular social, work, and school circles who she wanted to be with romantically, so she had been alone for a long while.

  Her last boyfriend had been a police officer who had gotten possessive and controlling over her, and she had broken up with him to give herself some safety and peace. She hadn’t wanted to date anyone for a while, but then she missed it, and instead of seeing anyone she wasn’t really into among the men that she knew, she researched dating apps and found one that would work for what she had in mind.

  Celeste had no time for a real boyfriend or even dating, but she did want someone who could at least fill in the lonely nights now and then, and remind her of what it felt like to be a desirable woman in the arms of a hungry man for a heated hour or two.

  Taking a deep breath, she smoothed her hands over her dress once more and appreciated the way it looked on her; a slender and slightly rounded hourglass. She promised herself that it was going to be a good night, that he wouldn’t be a fake and a liar, that he would live up to the photos that he had posted, and that he wouldn’t be a serial killer or insane stalker.

  She promised herself that he was going to be a semi-normal, good-looking, easy-going guy, who was just out for a little fun for the night, and that was all that it would be. It was all she wanted, and she hoped that it would be all that he wanted too, just like he’d told her.

  She locked the front door of her apartment and headed up the crumbling concrete steps to the cracked sidewalk. Her high heels tapped quietly as she walked along. A long low whistle sounded and she closed her eyes and sighed inwardly as she pursed her full lips together in frustration.

  “Mmm baby! Ain’t nothin’ look as good as you every time I see you. Come on over here honey, come here. Let me get a good look at you in that dress, ‘cause you lookin’ fine tonight! Damn I want me some ‘o you!” The voice was low, and the words were long and drawn out.

  Knowing full well that she shouldn’t stop and get hooked by the bait, knowing full well that she should just keep right on walking and ignore him, Celeste found her ire welling up in her too swiftly and too strongly to do what she knew she should. She stopped in her tracks and turned to look over her shoulder at him.

  He was sitting where he always sat, in his ratty old chair against the w
all where the dead grass met the front of the stairwell. There was a wooden wall there that gave some shielding to the front doors, and the steps went down behind the wall. She couldn’t see that he was outside until she was all the way up the steps and two or three feet along the sidewalk, and she never made it a point to look to see if he was there, because the few times she had done it when she had first moved in, he had taken it as an invitation and a come on, and she had learned to try to ignore him and just walk fast, but this night she found that she just couldn’t let it go.

  Narrowing her eyes at the man, she wondered how in the world he could ever think that any woman would ever want him. He was older and rail thin, bony at the corners with long edges in between. His cheeks were sunken in and shallow and his eyes were nearly always bloodshot.

  He wore dirty old wrinkled slacks that looked as though they might have been worn for a month straight without being washed, and a button up shirt that was only buttoned over his belly, leaving his deflated chest exposed. There was always scruff on his cheeks and jaw, not long enough to be a beard, and not short enough to look like a sexy five o’clock shadow.

  His hair was longer and scraggly, unkempt and unwashed. In his hand he always held a paper bag with a bottle of the day in it, from which he drank until he had drained it, every day. The scent of rotten alcohol surrounded him like an invisible cloud, and there was no way to get near him without taking in the repulsive stench.

  Celeste made her voice loud enough that there was no doubt that he could hear it. “Darnell, I have told you before, and I am going to tell you again because you can’t seem to remember this. I am a lady. I act like a lady and I expect to be treated like a lady, with respect! Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I am not here to be your plaything, or for you to tease or taunt, or catcall! Now you leave me alone and mind your own business! Do you hear me?”

  He watched her with wild eyes, and his thin loose lips widened into a grin. “Woo! Look at that fire! You a hellcat, woman! Damn I want you! Come on over here and I’ll tease you with my tongue until you beg me to be on top o’ you! You ain’t never had it as good as I’ll give it to you baby! Come on now! Come on over here and let me taste your honey! Damn you fine!”

  Outrage flared in her like a bonfire, and she glared hotly at him. “Oh, go to hell!” she snapped coldly, and then she turned and stomped off toward the parking lot. She was still fuming when she got to her car. It was old and worn out, but it still ran most of the time.

  She knew it wouldn’t last too much longer, and she prayed every time she got in it that it would keep starting and driving for her until she could graduate, get a good job, and be able to afford to get a newer used car. There was no way that she would be able to afford a brand-new car, not for a long time, and she was okay with that, just as long as she had something reliable to get her to and from work and school, and around town now and then.

  The town was Atlanta, Georgia. It was much more a city, but she felt that it was so laid back in most places that it still felt like a town. It was steeped in civil rights history and simultaneously in the traditions of the grand old South. Georgia peaches grew on the trees around the city and countryside, and out of the families of the wealthy in the form of lovely young women who still came out to society and sashayed around the hot spots and the big old grand homes and hotels like Scarlett O’Hara just waiting for Rhett to sweep them off of their dainty feet and treat them like princesses.

  Celeste was as beautiful and breathtaking as the sunrise over the ocean from the tree-filled grasslands at the white sandy beaches, but she was no proper Georgia peach; no delicate flower needing tender and constant care, no. She prided herself on being strong, independent, and self-made. They were her defining characteristics. She had been born and raised on the poor side of the tracks, and from the first time her parents had taken her into the city and she’d seen the beautiful buildings and ridden in their old car past the elaborate plantation estates and the newer mansions which had begun to replace them here and there, she had decided that she wasn’t going to stay on the dark side of the street.

  She wanted a better life for herself, in a safe and pretty neighborhood where gunshots didn’t ring out at midnight, and cockroaches didn’t scurry along the floors and walls and scatter at lightning speed when the lights were turned on at night.

  Celeste was willing to work for it, and work hard. She was more than willing to go to night school and work her full-time job, standing on her feet for long hours. She had no problem doing whatever she could to make the ends meet and put money aside for the day when she could make more of herself than life had presented her with when she was born, and she swore to herself that it was going to happen. It had to happen, and she wasn’t going to stop until it did.

  She thought of these things as she drove out of her downtrodden neighborhood in Glenrose Heights and headed for the airport. Kevin thought that it might be best if they met at a hotel where neither of them might be recognized, and when he had suggested a hotel by the airport, it seemed perfect. They both lived in Atlanta, and no one living in Atlanta who knew them would be staying at a hotel right by the airport. No one would see them and know anything about them. They could remain incognito, share their night of pleasure, and part with anonymity. She had loved the idea, but as she pulled her old car into the parking garage at the hotel, her heart began to pound. She wondered if she had lost her mind and if she was about to do something that she was going to regret.

  Still, she thought, he was very nice looking, and he had been respectful and friendly in their chats. He hadn’t been untoward at all in any way, and she felt that he was a gentleman, which appealed to her. Not many men were, especially on the app. Most of them were crude and thoughtless, egotistical and mean, their thick defenses and supremely shallow personalities dominant in their every communication. Kevin had been quite different, right from the beginning, and it was what had made her agree to begin talking with him. She hadn’t regretted it to that point, and she dearly hoped as she entered the hotel and walked straight to the elevators, that she wouldn’t regret it later on.

  Kevin had told her how to do it, that he would pay for the room and that she should just walk in as if she belonged there, as if she already had a key and a room, and take the elevator to the floor where their room would be. She could knock on the door, and he would be waiting for her. They had worked it all out, and still she felt like her heart was going to beat right out of her chest as she raised her eyes to the numbers above the elevator, watching them light up slowly one by one, until the car reached the lobby and she was able to get into it. She pressed the number four and the doors closed.

  Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and willed herself to remember that she liked him and that it would be fine. When the doors opened, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders, and walked purposefully down the hall to room four twenty-three. She began to feel a little light headed as she raised her small fist to knock on the door, and then she stopped and turned, walking away from the room and swiftly back down the hall toward the elevator.

  Celeste had nearly talked herself out of it by the time she had reached the elevators, and her finger was just about to touch the button to go back down, when her phone buzzed, and she felt her breath catch in her. She hesitated, and then reached into her small bag and pulled her phone out. An irresistible smile formed over her face as she saw that the message was from him. She touched it, feeling her cheeks warm as she did.

  ‘I don’t know if you’ll be feeling a little nervous, but I know I am. Nervous, excited, anxious and so looking forward to seeing you, to finally getting to touch you and kiss you. I know that this will be such an incredible night for us both. See you soon!’

  Her heart began racing again, but it had nothing to do with her anxiety, and everything to do with the idea of him touching her and kissing her, and then holding her against his gorgeous body as he gave her pleasure she hadn’t had in so very long.

 
; Making up her mind again, she turned back around and slid her phone back into her purse. With an excited smile on her face and a warm tightness spreading low in her belly, she took a deep breath and headed back down the hallway again to the same door. This time when she raised her hand, she knocked, and blood rushed in her ears as everything inside of her hit full tilt.

  The door opened, and suddenly there he was before her, in real life, only a couple of feet away. His brown wavy hair was glossy. His green eyes shone and sparkled, and she could see flecks of gold in them that his photographs did not pick up. He smiled, and the smile she had looked at in his photographs so many times before just came to life, broad and sweet and welcoming. His eyebrows raised high and he gave his head a shake.

  “My god…” He breathed out in a rush. “Your photos don’t do you any justice at all. You’re breathtaking! So beautiful.” He seemed to remember then that she was standing in the hallway. Blinking, he stepped back and held his hand out toward the room. “Please, come in.”

  She walked in and stopped in the center of the open space in the room. There was a king-sized bed before her, with the duvet turned down and the pillows fluffed and set up against the headboard. There was a table nearby and on it there was a silver metal bucket filled with ice and holding a bottle of champagne. Beside the bucket were two crystal champagne flutes, and as she took it all in, she realized that she could hear soft music playing in the background.