The Billionaire From Los Angeles: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (United States Of Billionaires Book 9)

by Simply BWWM

  THE BILLIONAIRE FROM

  LOS ANGELES

  UNITED STATES OF BILLIONAIRES BOOK 9

  ALEXIS GOLD

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  Summary

  Life was good for Tamika James or so it seemed.

  Her relationship with her boyfriend was going well but it was about to face its biggest test yet.

  After meeting the handsome but arrogant billionaire Shane Carson at a Beverly Hills bar she was given the offer of a lifetime.

  Shane offered her one million dollars in cash if she would spend the night with him.

  Tamika never imagined she would ever sell herself for any sum of money but when times are hard, one million dollars is hard to turn down.

  And who knows? Maybe she might even enjoy it...

  This billionaire romance novel is from the United States Of Billionaires series of standalone novels. Every book in the series features a different billionaire from a different part of America. You can read these books in any order so we suggest starting with this one!

  Copyright Notice

  The Billionaire From Los Angeles © 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

  With both of her hands on the steering wheel, Tamika James tapped her carefully manicured long red fingernails on it, pursing her full lips slightly as she turned her head from side to side and looked around her at the sea of bumper to bumper traffic that she was trying to drive through.

  Los Angeles was many things from great to terrible, but one of the worst things about it was the traffic, which never seemed to stop except in the dead of night, and which never seemed to go anywhere in the daytime.

  Her cell phone rang, and she touched the button on her steering wheel to answer the call through her Bluetooth so that she didn’t get a ticket from a highway patrol officer for holding her cell phone in her hand.

  “What are you doing, Tami?” a woman’s voice came through the speakers on the small car.

  Tamika smiled, it was her twin sister, Janet, who had been named for the music star Janet Jackson, sister of Michael Jackson. Tamika had been named for their mother’s best friend.

  “I’m sitting on the 5 in traffic.” Tamika sighed. “What are you doing?”

  “I just finished doing a massage and thought I would call you to see if you want to go out for dinner tonight. Are you free in an hour? I have one more massage to do, and then I’m done for the day.” Her twin sister was the lead massage therapist at a rehabilitation clinic right in the middle of downtown Los Angeles.

  “Oh!” Tami sighed mournfully. “I wish I could! I want to see you. It’s been two weeks!” They made it a habit to see one another regularly.

  “Well, why can’t you?” her sister asked in a demanding tone.

  “I’m meeting Maurice for drinks at the Wilshire hotel. He’s cleaning pools in Beverly Hills today and wanted to meet me there after he was finished working.” Tami frowned slightly.

  “Oh no, you don’t!” her twin sister snapped in irritation.

  “No, I don’t what?” she asked, one corner of her mouth turning up in a smile.

  “No one is more important to you than me. I take top billing. Top priority. Especially over that idiot Maurice!” Janet announced as though it was something that could not possibly be up for debate or consideration.

  Tami laughed. Her sister was insistent and demanding at times, but also had the biggest heart of anyone she had ever met, and she would do, and frequently did, anything that Tami might need, but she was a little spoiled.

  “You’re right, no one is more important than you; however, I already had these plans, and I can’t break them. I’m sorry, Janet. I will get drinks with you any other day this week. I promise. Just not tonight because I can’t, but I wish I could.” Tami really did wish that she could. Janet was right; no one was more important to her than her sister, but she couldn’t just drop a date that she had with her boyfriend.

  “I can’t believe you’re putting that worthless fool ahead of me. I should always take precedence when I want it.” Janet sounded positive that that was the simple and total truth that should be understood by anyone and everyone, especially her twin.

  “I can’t break a date just because you called me on short notice for drinks. If it was an emergency, I would be there, but it’s not.” Tami flipped her signal on the steering column and pulled her car off the interstate and began driving down the road toward her destination as she continued to argue with her sister.

  “It IS an emergency!” Janet pouted in frustration.

  “Drinks do not constitute an emergency. Is it blood, fire, or throw up?” Tami asked with a raised brow as she looked up gratefully at all of the green lights that she was getting.

  “Okay, Mom,” Janet grumbled, referring to the question their mother used to ask them anytime they called her at work. If it wasn’t blood, fire, or throw up, they were relegated to waiting until she called them or until she got home from work. The exceptions to the rule were rare.

  “Listen, I’m just saying that I can’t because I already have plans.” Tami smiled a little, feeling some love for her sister, even though she was jealous and demanding.

  “Yeah, with that fool you call a boyfriend,” Janet shot back at her grumpily.

  “That’s not nice,” Tami gently reprimanded her.

  “So what? It’s true! He’s a complete loser, Tamika. You could do so much better. You should do better.” Janet was of a stubborn opinion that nothing about Maurice was good, and her opinion wasn’t likely to change.

  “He’s not so bad.” Tami defended her man to an extent.

  “How is it going with him anyway?” Janet sounded as if she didn’t really want to know.

  Tamika sighed and bit at her lower lip a little. “Well, to be honest, it’s okay. It would be better if he’d commit to me, but it’s not terrible or anything.”

  “Well I don’t like him, and I don’t like that you’re dating him. Why would you want to commit to someone who doesn’t love you and treats
you poorly?” Janet demanded.

  Turning her car into the parking lot of the hotel, Tamika turned the engine off and switched her cell phone off Bluetooth, picking it up and placing it on her ear as she got out of the car and locked it.

  “Janet, I think he loves me. I really do.” She walked toward the hotel and smiled at the doorman who held the door open for her.

  “I’ll say it again. You could do so much better,” Janet stated flatly, as if it was a universal truth that only Tami could not admit or believe.

  “Janet, come on. What if he really loves me? Love is the most important thing, isn’t it? So, what if he doesn’t make much money, and he’s out there scrubbing other people’s swimming pools. I am telling you now, I don’t care how much money he has or doesn’t have, or what he does; I just want to be in a relationship with a man who loves me, like, really loves me for who I am. Is that so much to ask for?” She felt totally justified in her statement and belief.

  She meant what she said. If she had finally found a man who really loved her for who she was and not for what she did or what she did for him, or for what she looked like, she would be glad and lucky to have him and keep him, no matter what he did for a job or how much money he had or didn’t have. She was resolute in that belief. She had been with men before who only wanted her for her looks or for her tendency to work hard to take care of her man however she could. She was ready for some reciprocation and getting back some of what she gave out so generously.

  Janet sighed heavily. “It’s not too much to ask for, but if he did love you, he sure as hell wouldn’t treat you the way that he does. That’s for certain.”

  “Oh now, be fair. He’s not so bad.” Tami frowned as she walked through the hotel lounge to a stool at the bar and sat down waving at the bartender. He came to her, and she held the phone away from her mouth and said quietly to him, “Champagne, please.”

  He nodded and poured her drink for her as her sister snorted in the phone. “Right. He’s not so bad because he doesn’t hit you, and he keeps a steady job? Those aren’t standards, Tami, they’re bare minimums. You need to be with a man who treats you right and loves you for real, not some jackass who meets the lowest possible acceptable dating standards. Besides, you shouldn’t be chasing after him to love you and treat you right and be there for you.

  He should be chasing after you, and you know it. He shouldn’t be waiting for you to handle the relationship and push him to say that he loves you or commit. He should be right there on your doorstep, ready and willing to commit and coming up with that idea all on his own, not because you pushed him to do it. You’re worth it. Now act like it. You shouldn’t even be with his sorry ass.”

  The bartender handed Tami her glass of champagne, and she took a sip and swallowed it, enjoying the bubbles going over her tongue and down her throat as her sister continued to lambaste her boyfriend.

  “Hey, Janet. I’m sorry sis, but I have to go. I’m at the hotel, and he’s going to be here any minute. I need to let you go. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I promise, and I’m sorry that I couldn’t get drinks with you tonight. Rain check for sure, anytime this week. Yeah?” she asked hopefully, tenderly trying to cut her sister off of her rampage.

  “Sure, fine. Whatever,” Janet pouted. “Have fun, and I’ll call you later.” Janet ended the call without so much as a goodbye, and Tami smiled a little and shook her head as she tucked her cell phone away in her purse.

  Looking up, she gave herself a cursory glance in the mirror behind the bar. What she could see was her shoulder length long black hair, her big brown eyes, and her dark chocolate skin kissed with a honey golden glow. She could see the elegant lines and bone structure of her face. She had often been told that she looked like a black Angelina Jolie, though perhaps a little more on the exotic side.

  The upper part of her body, which was visible in the mirror before her, was slender and showed her height of five feet seven inches, as well as her voluptuous feminine curves which swelled at her breasts, tapered in at her waist, and arced back outward again at her hips, which were full and round.

  What couldn’t be seen in the mirror were her long, slender legs, barely covered in silky hosiery, tucked into heels that only added another few inches to her stature, giving her an air of sexy refinement. She had worn a dress that was cut to the middle of her thigh and had a low scooped neck, offering just a glimpse of the upper rounded flesh of her breasts.

  Maurice had complimented her on the dress when he had seen it once before, mentioning that he couldn’t wait to take it off her, and she had not forgotten that he liked it. She had worn it specifically to please his eye and to draw some romantic attention from him.

  As she sat there sipping her champagne and thinking of him, she smiled to herself, not looking into the mirror, but rather off into some distant thought, and she did not see the man watching her from a private table a short distance away.

  He had been intrigued by her as she had walked into the lounge, her stunning figure taking his breath away as he watched her walk from the entrance door to the stool where she had taken a seat. He continued to watch as she spoke on the phone and lifted the glass of champagne to her full, sweet, sexy mouth, swallowing the golden bubbles.

  Her beauty and demeanor had arrested his attention, and he liked that she hadn’t looked around the bar to see who else was there; she simply minded her own business and kept to herself, enjoying her drink. After watching her for a few long moments, he rose from his seat at the private table and walked over to her, standing beside her as she turned to look at him.

  At a glance, it was easy to see that the man was beautiful. His sun kissed waves of golden hair were combed back from his face and rested at the top of the collar of his button up shirt. His chiseled jaw sported a three-day beard which was perfectly trimmed and emphasized his handsome features. His body was broad and thick at the chest and shoulders, tapering to a trim waist and legs that made him taller than she was by half a foot. All of that was swept up into her mind at the first sight of him, but it was his eyes that captured her attention.

  He had brilliant deep green eyes with variant shades the color of an exotic sea just off shore, beckoning and transfixing, and she discovered that somehow those eyes had silently, stealthily stolen her breath away from her as she looked up at him.

  He smiled. He must have expected to have that kind of reaction from her, as if it was a reaction that he got from most people who turned to look at him, and he was accustomed to playing it to his advantage.

  “May I sit beside you?” he asked, looking as if it was unlikely that he might be deterred from doing so.

  She smiled and gave him a welcoming nod. There was something intriguing about him; mysterious and alluring, and though she was content to wait alone, she wasn’t opposed to waiting with anyone else, as at least there would be someone interesting to talk with.

  “If you like. The seat is open for now,” she hinted subtly that it would not be open for long, giving him some insight into the fact that she wasn’t going to be there alone.

  He gave a slight nod, acquiescing that he had understood her. “If I may, is that the house champagne?” he asked, nodding to her glass.

  “I’m sure it is. I didn’t ask,” she replied, glancing down at the golden bubbles that floated to the inner rim of her champagne flute.

  He signaled the bartender and spoke with him in a quiet tone. “Your best champagne for the lady, please. We’ll share it.”

  She laughed softly for a moment. “You don’t have to do that!” She shook her head a little.

  “Oh, but I do. You see, this is a very special day. It’s a celebration.” The corner of his mouth turned up mischievously, and his beautiful green eyes glinted with some secret delight.

  Tamika raised a brow curiously as the bartender poured them new champagne and left the bottle for them. The blonde god-man handed a glass to her and then took his own, lifting it slightly as he gave her a genuine smile.

 
“What are we celebrating?” she asked, looking at him and feeling some excitement building in her toward whatever he might be about to say. It was an unusual circumstance; she had never celebrated anything with a stranger before, at least not with excellent champagne.

  He leaned closer to her and spoke in a dignified tone. “It’s the day that you…” He paused and glanced over at her. “I’m sorry, I’ll need your name for this,” he said near her shoulder in a hushed tone as if there was an audience waiting for the toast.

  She laughed softly. “Tamika, but my friends call me Tami.”

  He gave her a slight but solemn nod. “It’s the day that you, Tami, and I, Shane, became acquainted. It’s the day we became friends, and though I’m dashed to admit it, hopefully more. It’s the day that preceded all other days to follow in which we found great joy, friendship, and happiness, and it is a day that we shall look back on fondly, glad to have celebrated it with the finest champagne that there was to be had, as the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”