Best of 2021

By Sam Haywood

Maid for You.
Sugar Demon.
Office Holiday Party.
My Cousin’s Husband.
The best-selling stories of 2021, all compiled into one bundle for your enjoyment. Stay tuned until the end for a preview of what's to come in the new year!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sam Haywood
• Release date: Jan 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9780463706435

Sam Haywood

Hey there, thanks for checking out my Smashwords page!I mainly write short stories, though I do like to try my hand at longer works once in a while. My work is a mix of erotica and SFW fiction, and I publish roughly twice a month. Check out my available works, and feel free to leave a review if you enjoy them!

Book preview

Best of 2021

Published by Sam Haywood at Smashwords

Copyright 2022 Sam Haywood

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedicated to my first calendar year as a semi-professional writer. Massive thanks to everyone who’s supported me on this journey.

Maid for You

"Read ’em and weep! I slap my cards down on the table. Full house, asshole. Beat that." Braden shrugs and flashes a pair of threes. I laugh and sweep the pile of condoms over to my side of the table.

You’re terrible at bluffing, you know, I say. I grab a handful of the plastic packets and let them fall through my fingers onto the others in the pile. It’s less dramatic than I hoped it would be, but it still works. I know all your tells. Braden raises an eyebrow at me.

Oh? he says. And what would those be? I laugh again.

Well for one, I say, you always get that smirk you do. You know, the kind of lopsided one, where you look like you’re having a stroke.

"I don’t look like I’m having a stroke," he scoffs. I grimace at him, squinting a bit as he tries to recreate the smirk. One corner of his lips curve upwards, but most of his face stays the same. Yeah, it definitely looks like a stroke.

Agree to disagree, I say. He rolls his eyes.

Alright then, what else? he continues. I pause to think for a moment.

"Well, you get this… this sort of twitch in your eye, I say. I point to the right half of his face and I poke where the twitch usually happens. Right there." He scowls and swats my finger away.

Anything else? he asks sarcastically. I shrug.

There’s a few more.

"And are you gonna tell me?" I shake my head.

Can’t be giving away all my tricks so easily, I said. "Face it—I can read you like a book." He gives a short laugh and smirks at me.

If you’re so sure about that, he says, then how’d you feel about raising the stakes a bit? I tilt my head towards him.

Getting bored of betting condoms? I ask with a slight laugh. He twists his lips into a frown.

Not much of a bet at this point, he says. I mean, even if we end up using them, it’d still be both of us.

Fair point, I say. So, what did you have in mind? He leans back in his chair and starts drumming his fingers against the table, smiling mischievously.

Well, he starts. "A while back, I ordered something a little… spicy off of eBay." I nod my head forward, waiting for him to continue. He doesn’t say anything, so I prompt him.

And? I ask. What is it? He hesitates for a second before standing up.

I’ll go grab it, he says. He disappears into the hallway, and I hear our bedroom door open. He’s gone for a bit, but after a minute or two, I hear his footsteps coming back towards the kitchen where we’ve been playing. He peeks his head in through the doorway before stepping into the room, and I burst out laughing when I see what he’s brought with him. He manages to keep a straight face as he holds up the frilly black dress.

"You’re betting a maid dress? I ask. He nods, not breaking the deadpan look he’s been giving me, and I laugh again. And what are you hoping I’ll put up to match your… bet?" He shrugs.

How about this, he says. "Loser has to wear the dress for an entire day—and act the part." I scoff.

Seriously? I ask. You sure you want to make that bet?

Sure, he says, shrugging yet again. That is, unless you don’t feel like trying your luck? I roll my eyes and lean forward.

What’s your game? I ask. He hangs the dress on the handle of the cabinet beside us and sits back down. He picks up the deck and starts shuffling the cards.

How about a hand of five-card draw? he suggests. I scoff and nod.

"Oh, I’ve got this in the bag," I say. He rolls his eyes and tosses a card in front of me.

Whatever you say, he mutters.

Braden finishes dealing the hand, and I pick up my set of cards. A pair of kings right off the bat—not a bad start. I peek at Bray over the tops of my cards. His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. I look back down at my hand and pluck the unpaired cards out from the fan. I toss them face-down onto the table between us and take some replacements. Two queens and an eight. I smirk and glance back up at Braden, waiting for him to trade in his cards. He doesn’t move, staring me down across the table with that smile of his. I raise an eyebrow in surprise.

Nothing? I ask. He shrugs.

I’ve got what I need, he says. His left eye twitches when he says this, and I see the side of his mouth curl upwards towards his cheek. I smile slyly at him.

You don’t have shit, I laugh. I slam my cards down in front of me and fold my arms across my chest. Two pairs, I say, gesturing towards the cards. Like a book. He bites his lip, grimacing defeatedly down at my cards.

I hope you’ve got one of those headband things to go with the dress, I say. Because I’m gonna take my sweet-ass time enjoying the look. I laugh again as he looks down at his cards. He says nothing for a moment, sitting completely still, before a smirk slowly creeps its way across his lips. I hear him start to laugh, a low chuckle that grows steadily louder until he’s guffawing across the table at me. I stop my gloating and give him a confused look.

What’s so funny? I demand. He looks back up at me, eyes twinkling excitedly, before slowly handing me his cards. I take them, still confused, and my cockiness vanishes as I see the hand he’d had.

Four aces.

What the fuck? I manage through choked sputtering. "How the fuck?" He grins at me and takes the cards back, shuffling them into the deck. He glances up at the clock on the wall before turning back to me with a smirk.

You’d better get to bed, he says. You’ve got a long day of maid-ing tomorrow. He stands up and walks past me towards the hall, stopping at the doorway to glance back at me.

And by the way, he adds. "There is a matching bonnet."

Turn a little to your left, Braden says. And flaunt those hips—you’ve got a lot to work with there. I groan and do as he says, posing for him as he circles me with his camera. I hear a pair of whirring snaps, and he sits down on the bed as the camera spits out a picture. He shakes it a little and holds it up to the light, grinning widely when he sees the image.

You know, he says, you really don’t look half bad in that outfit.

Fuck off, I mutter. I start unzipping the back of the dress. Braden snaps his head to the side to look at me.

And what do you think you’re doing? he asks. I scowl at him.

The hell do you think? I say. I’m taking this damn thing off.

Oh, no, you’re not, he chides. The deal was to wear it the entire day. I slouch over.

Seriously? I ask pleadingly. You’re actually gonna make me wear this stupid outfit all day? He shrugs and nods.

But don’t worry, he says, laughing dryly. You’ll have plenty to do with your new uniform—I’ve got some chores lined up for you. He opens the drawer to his nightstand and pulls out a black stick. He sits up and tosses it at me, and I catch it without thinking.

Still got those football reflexes, huh? he comments. I roll my eyes and hold the stick up to see what I’m holding.

What the hell… I mutter. He sighs and gets out of bed, crossing the distance between us in two steps. He takes the stick from me, and I hear the soft click of a switch before a bouquet of feathers springs out from the tip. He hands it back to me, and I furrow my brow, still not sure what it is I’m supposed to be holding.

The hell am I supposed to do with this? I ask. He points behind me, and I follow his line of sight to the armoire. I let out a low groan as the realization hits me.

It’s a feather duster, I realize. He grins at me and gives me a quick pat between the shoulders before nudging me over towards the dresser. I grumble as I reach up and start swiping the feathers across the top of the wardrobe, watching as little bits of dust sprinkle down from the edge. I hear the bed creak behind me and glance over my shoulder to see him reclining against the headboard, still smiling smugly at his prize.

Make sure to get all the way to the back, he says, gesturing to the duster in my hand. I scowl at him and turn back to the dresser, reaching up to brush the top.

Too tall, I mutter. I lean forward and