The next day I keep my bag on my desk and walk to Jason's office. I enter without knocking since Jason isn’t around. He’s downstairs talking to the company's head of marketing. I place his coffee on his desk and go to the bookshelves to retrieve a file he asked me to work on this morning.
I’m having difficulty reaching where the file is kept. I’m about to turn around and get a chair to help me when someone grabs my waist and lifts me off the ground.
“Hi, Jason,” I say, looking down.
“Grab it fast; you’re not as light as a feather,” Jason says, pretending I weigh a ton. I know I’m not light, but I don't weigh much.
“I didn't ask you to carry me,” I say, grabbing the file from the top shelf.
“I know, but I felt like having your ass in my face today,” Jason says, kissing the swell of my
