After a company dinner party, it's clear you've had a few drinks too many. You're in no shape to go home by yourself. Begrudgingly, your boss decides to take you home, not wanting anything to happen to you (though she'd never admit that aloud).

As she places you in the backseat, you cling to her arm and pull her in with you. Before she can scold you, you've made your way to her lap. She decides to humor you, resting her hands on your waist.

You surge forward and connect your lips, the warmth of her lips against yours sending a shiver up your spine. She hungrily pushes her tongue into your mouth, gripping your waist with a newfound desire.

As you pull away, you're both breathless.

"Take it off..." She pants softly, motioning to your top.

With a snarky grin, you reply, "It'll cost you."

She reaches into her suit pocket and pulls out her Black AMEX card. She pushes the card into your mouth, the metallic taste pungent on your tongue.

When she speaks, it comes out in a low, almost animalistic growl.

"Pin is 4842. Take it off."