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    Push Me Pull Me
    Push Me Pull Me
    Push Me Pull Me
    Ebook80 pages1 hour

    Push Me Pull Me

    By Amanda Rhodes

    ()

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    About this ebook

    At twenty-four, Mallory Grant is still struggling with adulthood. She can't seem to make it in to work on time and deals better with her Tumblr friend on the other side of the world than a face-to-face with a real live human. But when her boss threatens to fire her as a rental agent, Mallory has to buckle down with her new client or end up jobless.

    Corinne Ibori is moving to the Chicago area and needs a place to call home. Mallory's goal is to find just the right location for Corinne's needs and show her boss she's turned over a new leaf. Corinne is thirty-five, self-confident, beautiful, flirty, has a French accent, and knows what she wants.

    Mallory is finding it hard to believe that what Corrine wants might be her.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherNineStar Press, LLC
    Release dateJul 30, 2018
    ISBN9781949340303
    Push Me Pull Me

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      Book preview

      Push Me Pull Me - Amanda Rhodes

      A NineStar Press Publication

      Published by NineStar Press

      P.O. Box 91792,

      Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87199 USA.

      www.ninestarpress.com

      Push Me Pull Me

      Copyright © 2018 by Amanda Rhodes

      Cover Art by Natasha Snow Copyright © 2018

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact NineStar Press at the physical or web addresses above or at Contact@ninestarpress.com.

      Printed in the USA

      First Edition

      July, 2018

      eBook ISBN: 978-1-949340-30-3

      Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content, which may only be suitable for mature readers.

      Push Me Pull Me

      Amanda Rhodes

      Table of Contents

      Dedication

      Now

      Then

      Now

      About the Author

      For my wife, Victoria. My inspiration for everything

      Now

      UNFORTUNATELY, THE TWO glasses of wine I guzzled at the hotel bar downstairs didn’t really help calm my nerves. And I don’t even like wine. My brain is a little fuzzy, but I’m not terribly concerned with logical thought at the moment.

      I raise my fist to knock on the door, but it opens before my hand makes contact with the wood.

      I thought you’d never get here, baby, Corinne practically purrs. She grabs my hand and leads me into the foyer of the not unfamiliar space. Her shiny black pumps click against the marble floor. My nerves have not subsided, but I have no fear.

      The ensconced lights above me are dim, and the music is turned down to a low hum. I recognize it as Camille’s Le Fil. Just as I requested.

      She’s also wearing exactly what I asked her to: a tight black pencil skirt and an equally form-fitting black blouse, her breasts practically spilling out, the outline of the corset visible underneath. She’s wearing the glasses—thick black frames. Her dark silky hair lies artfully over her shoulders. This woman is a goddess.

      She stops us in the middle of the hallway that leads to her bedroom.

      Without another word spoken between us, she pulls me against her, wraps her arm around my waist, gripping the back of my neck with her free hand. I’m breathless. My entire body hums.

      While I stare directly into her fierce dark eyes, she runs her nose along my jaw and whispers into my ear, Are you ready?

      I’m shaking from a combination of anxiety and excitement. I try to calm myself, but her proximity makes it impossible.

      Yes, I whisper back.

      Good. Now, strip.

      Then

      TODAY HAS TO be a new record for me. Forty-five minutes late for work and I’m sitting in the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru behind a line of cars at least a half mile long. One might think I have no respect for punctuality. And they’d be right. I’ve been on a losing streak lately with my alarm clock. It tries so hard to wake me up with the beeping and the screeching.

      I have to have my coffee before I meet the day head-on, though. Therefore, I wait. Might as well be productive while I sit here. I text Helena, asking her if she’s seen my Tumblr post with the new pictures of Charlize Theron. She’s cut all of her hair off, and it’s sexy as fuck. Maybe she did it for a new movie role, maybe just to torture me. It’s hard to say.

      Helena replies back, Duh, Mallory. Of course, I’ve seen it. She immediately saved it to her hard drive for safekeeping. This is why we are friends. Unfortunately, though, she lives on the other side of the ocean so most of our conversations are in the form of emails and texts.

      I don’t really do so well with live humans unless I’m getting paid to customer-service them. I’m perfectly content with the friends that live inside my computer as far as my personal life goes. Helena gets me, and I make her laugh. Works out perfectly.

      A few more cars move, and I’m almost to the ordering screen. I check the clock. 9:15 a.m. Yikes. This is super late, even for me. Silently, I pray that my boss isn’t in this morning—still traveling or has tripped on her kids’ Legos and sprained her ankle.

      Mallory, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to make it in today. You’ll be able to hold down the fort without me, right?

      Absolutely, Shelly. You can count on me. I’ve been here for hours now. Everything is going smoothly.

      Perfect. You’re an amazing employee. I’m definitely giving you a raise and maybe even an expense account. Also, I think you should take a month-long vacation when I get back. Honk.

      HONK. HONK. HONK.

      The person who’s waiting behind is obviously super pissed by my delayed response.

      Sorry! I yell from inside my car where no one can hear me. I wave, hoping they forgive my idiotic daydreaming.

      Quickly, I pull through, order my coffee and the bagel I swore to myself I wouldn’t get.

      When I make it to work, I realize that my daydream was exactly that. There’s a sticky note lying on my desk from Shelly.

      See me when you get in.

      There’s no Thanks! or her name with a smiley face. She knows that I’ll be aware of exactly who wrote the note. And she knows that I’ll be aware of exactly what I need to see her about.

      The sense of dread I feel at moments like this never motivates me to do the right thing (i.e. show up on time), but only serves to remind me of how much I suck at life. That nasty little voice in my head is chanting loser alert! over and over.

      Staring at the note, I take a minute to contemplate my next move. I could fake the stomach flu, invoking her pity. Well, at least

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