Ruined by the Ultimate Billionaire

By Georgia Stockholm

The immovable object meets the irresistible force... and something has to give.
Danielle the librarian is a young, pretty, vibrant big beautiful woman... and she’s stuck in a rut. A lifetime of playing it safe has landed her a quiet job, a few good friends, and a series of romantic relationships that have been anything but fulfilling. She’s always thought that sex was the world’s most over-rated past time... while keeping her deepest and darkest fantasies to herself.
Until Justin.
Justin may be the richest man on Earth; he’s a master architect, engineer, and entrepreneur, with more money than could be spent in a dozen lifetimes. Wealth for its own sake no longer excites him, but then, since an untimely death, nothing does. Years of post-traumatic meditation and body-building kept him alive and physically fit, but left an aching void at the center of his being.
Until Danielle.
Until immovable object meets irresistible force and nothing can ever be the same.
18,000 WORD NOVELLA: Ruined by the Ultimate Billionaire is a contemporary romance novella including explicit descriptions of sex, including elements of dominance and submission, featuring a big beautiful heroine.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gulliver Noir
• Release date: Feb 5, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311962195

Georgia Stockholm

I was a tomboy until I was 12.I hated pink, anything girly. I refused to wear skirts and dresses, and I played exclusively with boys. The day I talked my mother into letting me get a crew cut was the happiest day of my young life. At puberty, though, something shifted inside. I still liked boys, but I knew I wasn’t one.As I grew, I fell in love with fashion, costume, things pretty, and things dangerous. I’m still more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt than heels and makeup, but there is a time and a place for everything.I’ve always loved to read. I devoured literary classics during the day, while at night, I curled up in my bed under the covers with a flash light devouring every genre imaginable, ending up bleary eyed and unable to focus in class. I was a crummy student.Writing has been my lifelong dream, and great good fortune has afforded me the opportunity to devote myself to it full time, at least for awhile. I really hope you enjoy my work as much as I enjoy writing it.

Book preview

1

Danielle

Dante could have added City Council Meetings to his map of the Nine Circles of Hell.

Somewhere between the Grafters and the Hypocrites—not in one of the lower circles with the, um, interesting torments. The punishment for evil Aldermen would be eternal PowerPoint in tiny chairs packed in stuffy windowless rooms.

Like the one I languished in now. I tucked a strand of my dirty blonde hair behind my ear and daydreamed about those torments, the more interesting kind, piles of gleaming naked bodies writhing in unspeakable agonies…

I pushed the image forcibly from my mind to focus on the presentation upon which my job depended.

I shared the dim, airless space with a scattering of twenty or thirty citizens while my boss made our case to the council arrayed behind a long desk at the front of the chamber. Janet was rail thin, blonde and perfectly put together in a navy designer business suit that fit her narrow frame like a glove. I was glad she was the face of the library system. Two-thirds of the Aldermen were men. She evoked male sympathy far better than someone with my figure ever could.

I wriggled, trying to get comfortable in my seat and repressing a sigh. It wasn’t the seat’s fault; to be blunt, I have a somewhat huge ass. Like that legend about the Great Wall of China, my ass is plainly visible from space. Astronauts in the ISS have photographed the thing, thinking it a rogue iceberg calved from Antarctica, or some other dire anomaly caused by global warming.

Hah. Seriously. I don’t give a fuck.

I’m cardiovascularly fit, with a great blood lipid profile. I walk four miles a day, and I have a huge, giant ass, unfashionably oversized breasts which I’ve considered reducing, a surprisingly narrowish waist and an ordinary if somewhat round belly. I would have been very popular during the neolithic—I’m caveman hot, maybe even good for the Renaissance, but all of these things added up to one word, in the modern day dating scene. Fat. More charitably, thick. Euphemistically BBW, big beautiful woman, though I thought at first that acronym might mean the Big Bad Wolf.

Kidding aside, I’ve made a fitful peace with my body. I’ve never had problems getting boyfriends. Finding ones I want to keep, alas, has eluded me.

I checked my watch. It was a quarter to nine; the community meeting was almost over. It had started right after my shift at the help desk, making this a thirteen-hour day. I thought our presentation was solid, but of course I’d written half of it. Library cuts would impact other city budgets and end up costing money in the long run. We kept kids off the street, helped people get jobs, pass GEDs, and pay their taxes. Closing the Valentine branch, where I worked, wasn’t a good idea.

The council members’ faces remained impassive as Janet reeled through slide after slide. I attempted eye contact with a stylish young Alderman I’d done some canvassing for, but he steadfastly refused to see me.

Some part of me knew this was hopeless. Preserving the city’s stellar bond rating was the chief priority, and an unexpected dip in revenue had everyone scrambling. The cuts were everywhere, across the board.

My eyes burned. I flinched as the meeting was gaveled to a close. Shouldering my bag I stood to leave with the small dispirited crowd. As I turned I caught a glimpse of a handsome man sitting three rows behind me in the back row. I hadn’t noticed him arrive. I would have remembered.

He looked sharp. Not in a trivial sense of the word; he somehow reminded me of a gleaming straight razor; attractive, alert, and fiercely intelligent. Tall and well-built, in a perfectly fitted jacket over a black silk collarless button-down shirt and slacks. His deep-set eyes were a piercing gray so riveting I suspected contact lenses. His jet hair was unfashionably short; his face was equally unfashionably clean shaven. He looked like a movie star from some bygone era — not a pretty boy, more like a Sinatra or Bogart, some slightly offbeat leading man who’d made the A-list by being a force of nature.

He met my eye and half-smiled. His name I knew from his library card, Justin Blake. I’d waited on him a half-dozen times, and he’d made an impression, gorgeous but distant, cool…

…and he was walking toward me.

Ms. Matea, he said. He inclined his head rather than shake my hand. I didn’t know how to respond. Drop a curtsy?

Mr. Blake. Odd that he knew my name, but then, I wear a name tag. What was he doing here?

I thought the library’s case was strong, he said.

I was exhausted and not in the mood to be patronized. Fat lot of good it will do us. Did you see their faces?

He gave a little nod. He’d noticed it too. Still. A good presentation.

I was wondering why he cared. The Valentine branch is on the chopping block.

I see, he said. Will they move you to another location?

No, I licked my lips, which felt dry and chapped. I’ll be laid off.

Blake nodded again, his expression remote. I see, he said. He reached out, as if to touch my arm in some comforting gesture, but seemed to think better of it. He shook his head. That would be a mistake, I think.

Unsure if he meant my firing or the branch closure, I nodded. I know it’s not personal. It’s just about money.

Everything always is, he said without irony or regret, as if he’d stated an innocent universal truth. And, as if that was all he’d wanted to say, with another nod he