The problem is: she still has her suit on, or nearly.

*  *  *  *  *

"I'll stay, help her get this ready."

Jan puts her hand on Karen's arm. Her nails are polished to a hard, smooth finish. Josh looks between them, a question behind his eyes but not in his mouth as he nods. The nails squeeze Karen's jacket sleeve, and she wishes it were a sweater so she could pretend this was game day or something.

*  *  *  *  *

"Here you are."

Jan sets a glass of something amber on Karen's desk, then takes a seat next to her. Jan sips her drink, pointing to a cell on the screen. The nails rest on the knee of Karen's slacks, and she wishes they were jeans so she could pretend this was a bar.

*  *  *  *  *

"So tense."

Jan digs her thumbs into the muscles Karen's neck. Rays of chill heat tingle across her scalp, down her back. The nails press into Karen's blouse, and she wishes it were a t-shirt so she could pretend this was her dorm room.

*  *  *  *  *

"Mm."

Jan looks from one breast to the other, then down toward her navel. Karen shifts in her chair, wet. The nails curl under the elastic of Karen's panties, and she wishes they were bikini bottoms so she could pretend this was the shore.

*  *  *  *  *

Jan says nothing.

Her hair tickles Karen as she moves, moaning. The nails leave small crescents on Karen's thighs, and she wishes Jan would take off her suit so she could pretend it wasn't her boss tonguing her.