Prologue

Sam staggered out of the noisy bar, struggling to support her drunk boss. How many drinks did she have this time? She thought to herself.

"Ms. Rodrigo, please steady yourself, I'm not strong enough to carry you to the limo," Sam tried her best to get her boss to the limo, yet barely made any progress.

Her boss didn't respond but only pressed her slim body closer against Sam's, putting all her weight on her, almost pushing them both over.

The wind felt like daggers stabbing into Sam's exposed hands. It was the middle of winter, and there was light snow fluttering down from the sky.

Her boss shivered in the cold wind since she was wearing only a cocktail dress in this weather. Sam didn't want her to catch a cold, so she pulled her closer, sharing her body's warmth. Too bad she didn't have a jacket, but her suit was warm enough for her.

Seeing that there wasn't any other way to get her boss to the limo, Sam thought, "Screw it, I'll just carry her to the limo."

What she'd said before had been true, she wasn't strong enough to carry her, but she could try.

Sam lifted her boss into her arms, bride style, and attempted to walk to the limo. Surprisingly, she felt a surge of adrenaline rush through her veins which made her able to hoist her boss into the limo. 

She then went in and closed the door.

The chauffeur gazed at her pitifully through the rear mirror. He knew the boss's antics and had witnessed everything, every time yet wasn't allowed to say anything because of his position. He was only a chauffeur, after all.

Sam made sure her boss was sitting properly with her seat belt on before sitting next to her and putting her own on. She noticed that she still seemed cold, so she said, "Mr. Green, can you please turn the heat on? Ms. Rodrigo seems cold."

He acknowledged her with a nod as he fiddled with the knobs at the front of the limo.

Sam then looked over to her boss to check on her, just in time to see her buckle her seatbelt.

Wait, what was she doing?

Sam stared, flabbergasted, as her boss climbed onto her lap.

She couldn't even push her off, and her seatbelt was restricting her movement.

The chauffeur happened to glance back at the same moment, and his eyes widened visibly, clearly shocked at what was happening.

Sam could feel the warmth of her boss's body, comfortably pressed against hers. She could feel her breasts and all her womanly curves through her tight cocktail dress. It felt surprisingly nice. Sam didn't mind too much. Maybe she was just still cold. Her warm breath on her neck felt sort of ticklish though...

Why could she feel her breath on her neck?!

She turned to her right and saw her boss's head positioned at her neck, her eyes full of lust, hungrily staring at the nape of her neck.

Time seemed to slow down. Sam watched as her boss slowly licked her neck with her wet tongue, sending a tingle down her spine. What was she doing? And most importantly, why was she doing this?

Then, she started kissing and sucking on Sam's neck, causing Sam's face to turn red. She wasn't sure what to do in these types of situations. Should she shove her off? Or push her away? Did she even want her to stop? Sam wasn't sure what to feel. She gulped, then stammered, "Ms-Ms. Rodrigo, y-you should s-stop..."

Her boss didn't take notice of her and continued what she was doing, her hand curling tighter into Sam's waist, firmly gluing herself to Sam's body.

Sam half-heartedly tried to push her off, knowing that she wouldn't succeed, which she didn't. Sam had no idea what was going on. Did her boss do this to every bodyguard? 

Sam's breathing became more and more ragged, as her boss's attacks on her neck became more and more vigorous, marking her with half a dozen hickies. It felt... Good. She liked this feeling. She knew that she shouldn't and that this was inappropriate. She was her boss, and she was only a bodyguard.

Sam wrapped her arms around her boss to prevent her from getting injured in case of sudden braking and such scenarios, bringing her body closer.

Sam helplessly called out to Mr. Green, the chauffeur, "D-Do you think you could s-speed up?"

He glanced back again uncomfortably, "I'll try, but the traffic is surprisingly bad tonight..."

What? But it was past 10 pm, on a Sunday night. How in the world could there be bad traffic?!

It was almost as though the universe wanted this to last longer...