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her back. She slid her thigh between Hilton’s leg. Hilton could feel her wetness.
    “Come here.” She pulled Emily on top of her. Hilton tugged at Emily’s nipple rings. Emily leaned in toward her and Hilton sucked her nipple and the nipple ring. She could feel Emily shudder. “You like?”
    “Oh, yes,” Emily said, offering up her other breast. She kept rocking toward Hilton with her breasts while Hilton nipped and suckled them. Hilton cupped her hand between Emily’s leg and thrust her fingers inside. Emily moaned and then ground against Hilton’s hand. “Oh, just like that.”
    Hilton thought there was nothing quite so erotic as watching a cute girl move against you as you ran your hand across her breasts.
    Hilton knew it would be the wee hours of the morning before Emily would leave.
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Chapter Two
    Early Saturday morning, Anne Counterman sat frowning at her computer screen. She was attempting to create an interactive Web site for her radio program, “Back Talk.” She swore that they, being management, had given her the lamest person they could find to be her Webmaster. “Web-make-a-mess-master is more like it,” she grumbled.
    She moved in disgust away from her site and began perusing the sites of the other radio programs that existed under the con-glomerate of Argonaut Airways. She came to a site for one of the smaller FM stations. It was marvelous.
    “Now, that’s more like it,” she said. She clicked on her speakerphone and called Ed Marcy, her program director. He also put in a few hours on Saturday mornings in the peace and quiet of a place almost vacant except for the FM stations who had young jocks spinning tunes and advertisements. They didn’t require the research and the phone power that the talk shows needed. The 13
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    weekends were always a welcome break from the frenetic pace they normally operated under. “Ed, are you busy?” she asked over the speakerphone.
    “Never too busy for you, Anne,” Ed answered, his gruff voice laced with an unnatural sweetness.
    Anne smiled. “Ed, you’re so full of shit.”
    He laughed. “I am. What do you need?”
    “A new Webmaster,” she said, scrolling down through the Web site. This stuff is good, she thought.
    “Gee, is that all?”
    “Come see this Web site,” Anne said.
    Ed groaned. “Like I need some exercise.”
    “Ed, come on.”
    “My doctor will thank you,” he said. Anne could hear the squeak of his desk chair as he hoisted himself out of it.
    When he arrived he peered over her shoulder. “Now, that is a good site.”
    “Whose is it?” Anne asked, leaning back in her chair. Her shoulders ached and something in her neck cracked. It was time to go to the chiropractor and have him straighten her out again.
    “It’s Hilton’s.”
    “Whose?”
    “She’s an intern,” Ed said, digging his hand into Anne’s candy jar. He pulled out a sour apple Jolly Rancher, unwrapped it and popped it in his mouth.
    “As in, unpaid intern?” Anne queried. This was going to be easier than she thought. Over the years she had become a pretty good headhunter, unscrupulously appropriating the best help from wherever she found it. In the radio business there wasn’t time or resources to be frittered away on waiting to get what you wanted.
    You had to go out and grab it.
    “Yep, how they get people to do that I’ll never know. You couldn’t get me to pick up a paper clip without a paycheck.”
    Anne watched as he maneuvered the candy in his mouth. “Did you get that tooth fixed yet?”
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    “No, that would require going to the dentist. I’ll just wait until it abscesses and I’m in incredible pain and then I’ll go.”
    Anne laughed. “Good idea. I mean, prevention is so banal.”
    “I can get Hilton in here if you want to talk to her,” he offered.
    That was one of the things Anne liked about Ed. He knew