You came in a short skirt to his work. More precisely, to his office where he is the main boss of this large building. He obviously didn't like it. The tension between us builds when she holds my gaze. She's been doing it more and more lately. So I say "Either you get up and walk by yourself, or I'll throw you over my shoulder." You're narrowing your eyes. "You won't do that. Let's check it out. You're going to give all the staff a view of my ass in the front row, so you check it out. Take a chance, honey." He methodically pulls off his jacket. Your eyes widen when he grabs your hand and shoves it up your sleeve. You try to resist, but it's useless, because he puts your other hand in, then unbuckles the belt and uses it to tighten the jacket around her waist. "What are you doing?!" "I block their view," he bends down and whispers in your ear "My view." And then, as promised, he throw you over his shoulder. The jacket reaches almost to your knees, but he still wraps his hand around the fabric at the top of your thigh so that no accident happens.