The Maid

  The Maid

  Sidney Halston

  This ebook is licensed to you for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be sold, shared, or given away.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

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  The Maid

  Copyright © 2019 by Sidney Halston

  Ebook ISBN: 978-1-64197-129-4

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  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without prior permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

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  NYLA Publishing

  121 W 27th St., Suite 1201, New York, NY 10001

  http://www.nyliterary.com

  Contents

  Dear Reader

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Excerpt from DILF

  Also by Sidney Halston

  About the Author

  Dear Reader

  If you're expecting a deep heartfelt book, this is not that book.

  If you want a filthy, fun, adult read, then sit back and enjoy the "ride" (if you don't innuendo, this book's probably not for you, either).

  Xoxo,

  Sidney

  1

  It had been seven years since Gunther McCall had been home for an extended period of time. Since sixth grade he'd been living in upstate New York at a premier boarding school, only coming home during holidays. And even during holidays, sometimes he'd meet his parents at one of their many vacation homes. But now, having just graduated high school, he was going to be home, in Miami, for an entire summer before flying off to Croatia to start his gap year abroad.

  Being at home was simply a layover until he had to catch his flight, and he wasn't looking forward to spending three months with his father, Liam, who wanted to mold Gun into a perfect socialite and future president of McCall Conglomerates, the holding company of the McCall empire.

  Last night there'd been a farewell (and clandestine) drinking fest in his dorm room with his buddies and he was still hungover. All Gun wanted was to faceplant right onto his bed and sleep for the next twelve hours.

  He walked into his childhood room ready to toss his duffle bag to the corner when all the blood from his body went straight to his dick and all thoughts of sleep fled his brain. A woman in a black skirt was bent over his bed, fluffing a pillow. Her white cotton panties were riding up her ass and if he looked carefully (which he did) the cotton molded around her pussy lips giving him a great shot of her—"Oh god!" the woman squealed, a hand on her chest as she stood and righted her dress. "You scared me to death!"

  "I scared you? It's my room." Now that he took her in, the skirt was actually an ill-fitting dress. A uniform, actually. The same one the rest of the female staff at the house wore. The ugly clothes didn't do anything to diminish her sexiness. Her red hair, which she had in a bun, and her piercing green eyes couldn't be masked by a piece of ugly clothing. She was stunning. Her plump pink lips and light spray of freckles on her nose and cheeks made her look young and innocent. Not at all like any other member of the household staff.

  Just as he was about to reply, his mother walked in. "Oh, Gun, honey, I don't think you've met Adalyn, have you? Adalyn, this is our son, Gunther."

  Gunther didn't take his eyes off of her. Her cheeks were beet red, but she stood straight and extended her hand. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr. McCall. I was just straightening up before you arrived."

  "Please, call him Gunther," his mother said, fluffing the top of his hair as if he was eight instead of eighteen. "Gun, you remember Ms. Finney, don't you? This is her niece." Ms. Finney had been the live-in maid at his parents' house since Gunther could walk. Of course, he remembered the small plump woman who cut his steak into small pieces and made sure his sheets were always clean and bed perfectly made. A woman who had been more of a mother to him than his own mother, in my ways. This Adalyn person looked nothing like Ms. Finney. "She's been working here for the last few months."

  "What happened to Ms. Finney?" he asked.

  "She had two herniated discs and decided that it was time to retire," his mother said.

  "And you took her job? You're our maid?" Gunther asked, surprised, and sounding arrogant even to his own ears.

  "Yes. It's not forever but I'm at Miami University and your mother was kind enough to let me stay living here while I went to school. It's a wonderful arrangement," she said, sweetly to his mother who did not have an ounce of 'sweet' in her.

  "Of course, darling," she smiled, fakely, at Adalyn.

  "Okay…" Gun sing-songed.

  "Anyway, I'll get out of your way. Pleasure to meet you, Gunther." Adalyn did a sort-of wave-slash-curtsy thing and rushed out of the room.

  "Get yourself settled. The Gomezes are coming over to dinner tonight," his mother said.

  He groaned. "Tonight? Seriously, Mother. I haven't even been home five minutes and you're already trying to play matchmaker?" The Gomezes had a daughter who went to St. Katherine's. They'd practically grown up together but after he left for school, he rarely saw her. That had been enough. She was short, pudgy, had braces, and hair the color of straw.

  "Melissa is a wonderful young lady. You two would be perfect together," she said in that tone that Gunther knew was not to be messed with. Gone was the playful woman who'd just ruffled his hair, and in her place was Mrs. McCall, the Chairperson of at least seven different charities, the heiress of the Van Buren Oil Company, and the woman who never took no for an answer.

  "Fine," he said. "I need to catch up on sleep first."

  "They won't be here until seven. You have time for a nap," she said, closing the door to his room behind her. "Rest up, but make sure you're up and ready by the time they get here. It'll be a formal affair."

  Of course, it was formal.

  After his mother left, Gunther tried to relax on his old bed, but the smell of that Adalyn woman was on his sheets. Not to mention, the sight of her cotton-covered pussy was on his brain. His dick stood up in attention, again. Why was someone that looked like her working as a maid? And how old was she? All the maids he knew were old. Adalyn was far from old.

  "Fuck," he groaned and decided to take a shower and see if cold water would tamper down the horniness that had overcome him. He stood up to walk to his en-suite when there was a knock on his bedroom door. "Come in," he hollered.

  Hesitantly, the door opened, "I forgot to stock your bathroom with towels," Adalyn said, with a handful of folded white towels in her hands. "If you don't mind, I'll just—" she said, walking straight into his room and into his bathroom. With his arms crossed over his chest, he watched her. She was still in that ill-fitting black dress that did nothing for her curves but still managed to turn him on.

  "I'm sorry but it's weird that you're our maid. You don't look like a maid. It's Friday night, shouldn't you be doing keg stands at a college party or something?"

  He could hear her chuckle from the bathroom and then she walked out, shutting the door behind her. "Frat parties aren't my thing." He noticed her raspy voice, something he hadn't detected before.

  "And being a maid is your thing?" he asked.

  Her smile immediately morphed into—something else. Her arms were crossed over her chest much like his, one b
row arched up high and she looked deadly. "Some of us need to work to get by, Gunther. Not everyone can afford a year trekking through Europe or a Porsche or—"

  "Corvette," he corrected her, and she rolled her eyes. "And I don't think you should be talking to me like that. I'm like—your boss."

  She snorted. "You are not my boss."

  He took a step closer, unable to resist. "I could have you fired if I wanted to."

  "I suppose you're right. But that would make you a dick. Are you a dick, Gunther? Are the stories I've heard in the tabloids actually true?"

  "Yes. All true. I'm a dick." Then he took a step closer. "And it's a big dick too, if you're wondering."

  "I was not wondering. And, since we're being so honest, then I’ll add: Don't call me a maid again. Cleaning lady, housekeeper…but not maid. You make it seem like I'm your slave or something. I don't like it."

  "Awww….a housekeeper with principles. Cute," he said.

  She rolled her eyes. She was enjoying the verbal sparring as much as he was. The polite young lady that she had displayed to his mother was gone. "Ugh, such a dick."

  Fuck. If she said dick one more time….

  "Since we're doing the honesty thing: You're hot. Too hot to be a ma—cleaning lady."

  "I need this job." It was an odd reply to what he'd just said. She sidestepped him, but he quickly moved in front of her again.

  "How old are you?"

  "Too old for you. You're just a kid." But her eyes roamed down his body and there was no way she could've missed his hard-on.

  "I'm eighteen and have been on my own since I was eleven. I'm no kid. You're what? Twenty-two, twenty-three?"

  "You haven't been on your own. You've been in a ritzy school that your parents pay for. I'm twenty-five, by the way. And, like I said, too old for you. Now, if you'll excuse me, as fun as this has been, I have work to finish."

  He grabbed her forearm before she had a chance to walk out. "I take it back. You're not hot. You're fucking beautiful. Even with the horrible dress, you're gorgeous." He saw her swallow. She wasn't unaffected, her eyes went to his lips and lingered there for a moment before she pulled her arm free. "Gun. Call me Gun."

  She inhaled sharply and left his room. She was frazzled. And he was pleased with himself for that. Suddenly he was really really glad he was going to be home for a while.

  * * *

  Addie knew Gun was eighteen. Everyone in the world knew that Gunther McCall was eighteen years old. He was American royalty. The tabloids had been following his every move since his parents' scandalous announcement of his birth. After ten years of marriage to America's sweetheart, Jennifer St. Claire, Liam McCall was caught by paparazzi leaving a hotel with the very wealthy heiress Monique Van Buren. Gossip about an affair between Liam and Monique flooded every news rag and both Liam, Jennifer and Monique denied it for months even after Monique was photographed with a baby bump. Eventually, Liam and Monique had to come clean and months later, Gunther was born, Liam and Jennifer divorced, and the wedding of the century took place between Liam and Monique. America was glued to the television watching, Gunther, the cutest ring boy ever, walk down the aisle. Addie remembered watching it play out on the news when she was a little girl. Now she was working for them.

  She had wanted to be royalty back then, pretending to be the bride with a crown of her own. Instead, she was doing laundry and cleaning the bathroom of royalty. Gunther had grown up in the public eye getting into trouble even while he was away in school.

  But now, meeting him in person was a different thing altogether. He didn't look like an --eighteen-year-old kid. He was maybe six- feet- tall and lean, but not in a lanky sort of way, instead in a toned and athletic way. She'd heard her aunt talk about how Liam loathed that Gunther played football in high school and had been a huge point of contention between father and son. Liam considered it barbaric and a waste of time. Barbaric or not, the guy had the body of a football player. He was very good-looking. Too much so. It made her nervous how attractive she found him. He was too young and too rich for her.

  He acted like someone who knew himself, a quality that most men didn't possess until much later in life. The way he crowded her, and told her she was hot, left her briefly disarmed. Even the way he insulted her; all of that spoke of someone who was very self-assured. The insults she could do without, although truth be told, she didn't fault him too much. He didn't know better; he'd been born with a silver spoon in his body and addressing the hired help was not a skill he'd been taught.

  It surprised her how he acted more assured and in control than most of the guys she dated or hung around with at school. There was something about Gunther McCall…something that she couldn't exactly pinpoint.

  He was off-limits and she had to be the mature adult and make sure that things remained off-limits, so she made sure to avoid him the rest of the day.

  That evening, when Addie was finished with work, she went to her little bungalow, a small, one-bedroom stone cottage at the far end of the McCall residence where she lived. For now, it was home and she loved it.

  She took a shower and then tossed herself on the bed with her books to study for Monday's exam.

  A few hours later, she was awoken by the sound of laughter. She yawned and peeled off a piece of notebook paper that was stuck on her forehead. Not many people ventured to this side of the yard. She jumped off the bed and peeked out the window towards the pool area where the voices were coming from. The sight of her turning on the light apparently caused the people laughing and talking to turn their attention toward her. Gunther, in a black suit, and a girl in a long lavender dress, stared back at Addie. Surprised at being caught, she released the blinds and ducked out of sight, her heart hammered in her chest.

  What had all that flirting been about earlier? He was seeing someone. Damn him for making her feel beautiful and wanted for a moment. She pushed the textbooks off the bed and tucked herself in for the night, all thoughts of Gunther McCall, the cad, gone from her mind.

  * * *

  Of course, that's where Adalyn was living. Why hadn't he thought of that? He needed to get rid of Melissa Gomez, who actually did look much better now than she did the last time he saw her. But she wasn't Adalyn Finney.

  "Who was that?" Melissa asked, pointing to the window that Adalyn had just peeked out from.

  "The maids’ quarters. Why don't we head back, I'm tired from the flight." And he wanted to escape the dull dinner and go pay a visit to the new maid.

  Two hours later after the Gomezes had left and his parents had gone to bed, Gunther snuck out of the house. There was no reason to sneak out as he was a grown man, all of eighteen years old. But his parents would have a heart attack if they knew he was going out in search of Adalyn. His parents were progressive, or they liked to pretend they were progressive, but in reality, they were not open-minded, at all. People in his circle dated inside their circle. Adalyn was not even close to being in the vicinity of their circle.

  He knocked once, then twice, before he saw the light flicker on and then heard that raspy voice say, “Who is it? "

  "It's me, Gun."

  There was shuffling from the other side before she slid the lock and opened the door, just a crack. "Gunther, what are you doing here? "

  Her red hair was loose, and the waves fell down below her shoulders. Her green eyes looked like emeralds in the moonlight (and yes, he was thinking in fucking sonnets). In a Miami University t-shirt and plaid boxer shorts, she looked as if she'd just been asleep. Without answering, he moved forward, forcing her to step aside and let him in. "It's late Gunther and you being here is very inappropriate."

  "Why? Why is it inappropriate, Addie?"

  Addie? Why had he just called her Addie?

  "Because you're too young, I work for your parents, and well, you’re you. You're Gunther McCall!"

  "I'm not that young, and I don't give a fuck about the rest."

  She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest. "How ab
out your girlfriend? You don't give a fuck about that either?"

  He groaned. The way she said fuck…it made his dick hard. Hell, since he'd laid eyes on her, his dick had been hard.

  "I don't have a girlfriend. That's just someone my parents wish was my girlfriend. Forget her, she's no one. Now you, on the other hand…"

  "Me? I'm the maid, as you dickishly put it earlier. Which is why I don't understand why you're here."

  He stepped forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Visible goosebumps erupted on her arms. He never had a reaction like this to anyone before and apparently, she was feeling it too. He wanted her so bad he couldn't think of anything else. "What are you doing?" she asked.

  "I'm making a point. Can I ask you something, Addie? Are you the kind of girl that hooks up with guys you just met?"

  She looked as if she'd been slapped. "What the hell? How dare you ask me something personal like that. You don't even know me."

  "It was more of a rhetorical question. I already know the answer. You don't hook up with guys you've just met."

  Somehow, they'd ended up in her bedroom. Granted it was a tiny little home, and her bedroom was just a few feet away from the front door. He'd been inching his way forward and she'd been inching her way back. One could even argue that she'd led them into her bedroom, she could have backed them into the kitchen. "If you already know the answer, then why even ask?"

  "Because I know you're not the kind of girl that just hooks up randomly yet here you are, about to fuck me." She opened her mouth about to tell him off when he cut her off. "Do not stand there and tell me you did not feel something when you met me earlier today. Or that you didn't feel something when you walked into my room with those towels. Or that you didn't secretly hope I'd come here tonight. Those are not feelings you get for just anybody. Admit it."