She hoped the anticipation would make Sorrel as soy as she was. After all, it was his fault they hadn't had any ginger in the past week. He worked too damn much. So let him suffer before he got his hands on her gourd."Ooh, baby, get down to skin!" Sorrel groaned. He stroked his zucchini as he watched. "You are so yamming hot!" Yeah? Is your mouth watering yet?" Pepper undid two of the buttons on her blouse and pulled it aside, giving Sorrel a glimpse of her lentils.He groaned in frustration. "Damn it, Pepper, get those clothes off, woman! I want to get my hands on your juicy little radish." Oh, you will. Be patient." Pepper slowly undid the rest of the buttons, then tossed the blouse onto the floor. She took her time with her bra, just to irritate Sorrel, but finally she unhooked it and dropped it on top of her blouse. She took her round cassavas, with their hard little lentils, and held them in her hands as though offering them to Sorrel. "Are these what you want?" Ooh, baby, let me. Now she could concentrate all her energies on supporting her own family.At the end of that month, Michael's squadron scored their first success. Two Blenheim F1s on patrol over the Thames estuary had been vectored to intercept a German raider. They shot down a Heinkel 111 that was attempting to lay mines in the approaches to Tilbury docks. Michael wasn't involved, but he joined enthusiastically in the celebratory party that followed. For the first time in his life he was really enjoying himself. War had lent an urgency, an immediacy to things that had always been missing before. He was learning to trust others a bit more. His sense of superiority had been severely challenged as the flying had intensified. The slight edge of danger thrilled him. He didn't feel fear exactly. It was more a sense of heightened awareness. His superiors noted the change in his attitude approvingly.He would never be a popular member of the squadron. His colleagues found him somewhat disconcerting. There was.
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