Just as the first bomber arrived on target, Harry heard a voice over his radio that brought him, and every other pilot, up short. "Control, this is Li...a Alfa Foxtrot Alfa. We have a heat signature on Willow Lake. Looks like an outboard motor, possibly as many as three individuals as well. Looks like someone didn't get the memo and decided to get in a little fishing." Amityville," the controller called, using the squadron's call sign of the day, "this is Willow Lake Control. Abort your bomb. He could taste her on his tongue, and it was intoxicating. His hand traveled up from her hip and caressed her breast through the fabric of her blouse and bra. Damn blouse! God-Damn Bra!Hermione's hands also traveled, but they traveled south whereas Harry's had gone north. Her hands stopped to playfully tweak his nipples. Harry felt aroused, and a pang of jealousy brought on by the pinch of Hermione's fingers: 'If she can play with my nipples, why can't I play with hers? Lousy Damn blouse! Lousy. More

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