Owned: Bare Show: Minx Submits to Ex Cons ~ The Billionaires Club

By Q. Zayne

Owned for a night. The chance to fulfill a secret fantasy. But could I handle newly-released ex-cons?

Gabe looked at me with such gorgeous blue-green eyes, with no judgment whatsoever. I didn’t want him to go away. Once I stopped talking, I’d have to figure out what to do about the mess I’d just made of my life — alone in San Francisco with no family, no savings, and the prospect of losing my home.
“My life’s straight out of a sleazy day-time talk show. I made the predictable career choice of erotic dancer.” I glanced at him. He had the serene face of a Buddha, if the Buddha looked like a hunk with chiseled good looks from Hollywood’s golden era.
“I want to help you, Minx. The thing is, I’ve been recruiting for my private club for months, and you’re different. I’m not sure if this is the right opportunity for you.” He smiled again, making me weak in the knees. “I’d like it to be.”
“Just what are you proposing?” Given his discomfort, it must be something sexual. But no one as hot as this guy needed to recruit a mistress. Maybe he was kinky.

This is a standalone dark fantasy erotica novella rated 18+ due to language, sexual content and mature themes. Contents may be triggering for some readers. Owned is the third episode in The Billionaires Club series. These books feature raw kinks and fetishes—including unprotected public submission to gangs of rough men. After she signs a contract, of course. Enjoy the books in any reading order.

Sold—Party Toy: Brittani Serves Black Men #1

Auction—No Protection: Hailey #2

Owned—Bare Show: Minx Submits to Ex-Cons #3

Bound—Innocent: Pia #4

Captured—Wrecked Innocent: Sailor Angie #5

Hunted—Athena #6

• Language: English
• Publisher: Q. Zayne
• Release date: Jan 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370404940

Q. Zayne

Q. Zayne often appears on top 100 author lists. Q. minored in Classical Archaeology and has an MFA in Creative Writing from SFSU. After teaching at the university, working as an editor, and freelancing, the author embarked on a wild digital publishing adventure. Thanks to fabulous readers, super promoters, and unflagging supporters, Q. writes fiction for a living from the Yucatan, Central America, and the California coast.Check out the Quin Zayne books for dirty, high-heat romance, and Q. Zayne for Erotica and naughty fairy tales.

Book preview

OWNED—Bare Show

Minx Submits to Ex Cons

The Billionaires Club Interracial BDSM #3

A standalone novella

Dedication

For D & for T.

And for my readers, with special thanks to those of you who write reviews of my books.

Copyright

DRM-free for readers, DCMA-protected to penalize pirates.

Do not post any of our stories on any site.

Copyright ©2017 Hughes Empire. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this publication may be copied, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the author except for brief excerpts in a review. Cover photo ©Deposit Photos, and photographer, all rights reserved. The use of this photo does not suggest endorsement of this work by the photographer nor the models, nor does it imply anything about the models’ characters or lifestyles.

Electronic book publication: January 2017. Second Edition.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual businesses, entities, creatures or persons living or dead is purely coincidental. All people and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. This work is for mature readers 18+. All characters are consenting adults over 18 and the acts contained herein are pure fantasy. The fantasy displays unconcern with consequences of unprotected sex. Stay safe and sexy.

A Dazzling Stranger

It was over. I ran out of the night club and down the sidewalk. I slipped in a puddle in my high dancing heels and pinwheeled my arms to keep from falling. A guy holding a newspaper over his head against the downpour elbowed past and knocked me against the wall. The rain soaked my red mini dress and plastered my gold hair down my back. Blinded by tears, I groped along the wall, feeling for a doorway to duck into. Pedestrians rushing on their lunch hour almost knocked me over.

My shift wasn’t over. I never left work before my shift was over. But Frank fired me. I couldn’t believe it.

My hand gripped something soft and dry; it felt like cashmere. I couldn’t stop in time. I collided with a tall, broad-shouldered man. He reached out and steadied me, with the same care he might use to keep a priceless vase from falling over. A gentleman’s touch, not a creep’s. I’d had a lot of practice telling the difference.

Here, share my umbrella. My name is Gabe. He gave me his arm and led me into the shelter of a hotel’s awning.

I lowered my face, watching my red patent leather shoes splash along the pavement. Shop lights and the sky reflected from the water. Rain water sluiced down my long, smooth leg over a constellation of small moles by my knee. I tugged at my skirt, it clung tighter and rode up more from being so wet, almost exposing the cheeks of my ass and my thong.

I’m Minx. I’d been using my dancing name so long it came out. Ordinarily, I’d still be on duty, still be Minx. My other name was for college and official papers. This stretch of sidewalk so near the nightclub where I’d been dancing for more than a year was Minx’s world.

A pleasure to meet you, Minx. He had a low, warm voice and his gaze warmed me, too.

The man handed me a clean handkerchief from inside his fine black suit jacket. I stared at it. I hadn’t known a man to carry a handkerchief since Dad. He was dead. That’s how I’d ended up an erotic dancer. I cried harder, embarrassed to be losing it in front of the handsome stranger. The man had a strong, masculine face, glints of silver in his hair. Although covered by a coat, his physique looked impressive.

Take your time. I noticed you came out of the club. I was about to go in there. He gave me a smile. This is better. Let’s talk here. Are you all right? His brows furrowed and he looked right into me with bright eyes.

He looked far too well-off and refined to be seeking religious converts, so I figured there was no harm in talking. I had a nodding acquaintance with the hotel’s door man, so it was a safe enough place to take a break from the rain until I decided what to do. What was I going to do? I realized I still clutched his handkerchief. I dabbed my eyes with it. It came away smeared with mascara and taupe eyeshadow. My face felt too hot. I glanced at him again. He looked like a good man. Sexy as Hell. I didn’t usually spill my guts, but I needed to talk with someone. I was shocked.

I just got fired.

What happened?

They fired me for accepting a customer’s proposition.

That’s rough. Seems a funny place to have a morals clause. He arched a brow.

His take on it made me smile, but inside, panic demons started work. I was in trouble. Without that dancing job, my whole plan for getting my degree might be shot. And I didn’t want the dazzling man to think I was a whore.

"I’d never done that before. Never. My rent went up. My school fees went up. My textbooks came to $300 for this term. I was desperate. The guy was old and fat, but he seemed nice, like it would be easy to please him. He just wanted a private show and a hand job at his hotel, one of the best hotels in town. I figured that was safe. He said he’d send a cab for me at the end of the shift. Maybe one of the other dancers overheard and reported me. Prostitution is against the rules. No selling services or items of any kind . Right after I got hired, they canned a girl for selling her panties. Used panties, of course. It’s one of the things men like. She danced in them and sent them to the customer