He slides off my jeans and panties at the same time. When he reaches my ankles, I pick up each foot for him to peel off the last strip of clothing and toss it aside. His touch keeps us connected as he stands back up, trailing his fingers along either side of me. When he reaches my hips, he pulls my ass against his erection and I let out a whimper. He massages my breast with one hand and glides the other between my thighs.

“Did you miss me, Goose?” he coos into my ear. I can’t formulate words, but I manage to nod. He sucks on my neck and I bite my lip. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” I moan as I lean back into him.

“Yes what?” he demands.

“Yes, I missed you.”

“Good.” He lets me go with a quick slap on the ass and struts back into the kitchen. Yes, struts. Austin does a naked strut into my kitchen like he just won the Nobel Prize for sexiness. In his defense, if that were a thing, he’d certainly be a contender.

I cover my girly bits and look around for my clothes on the floor.

“Don’t you dare.” My eyes snap up to him at the sound of his firm voice. “You heard me. Don’t you dare cover up. You’ve got no secrets. I’ve already seen all there is to see. Plus, I deserve a nice view while I make us dinner.” I don’t put my arms down. Instead, I meet his challenging glare with a mischievous grin.

I stumble backward into the living room until I’m standing in the pile of his discarded clothes. Holding his undivided attention, I bend down gingerly, trying to avoid giving him too much of a show, and pick up his shirt off the floor. Before I can get it over my head, Austin is out of the kitchen and tackling me onto the couch. I know he’s an athlete and all, but damn he’s fast.

He’s lying on top of me, chest to chest, a smolder in his eyes. We’re both naked. For a moment I think he’s going to claim me right here on the couch. Then his face lights up with wicked delight and the tickling begins. I’m not just ticklish. I’m I-might-actually-die-if-you-don’t-stop ticklish. My hysterical laughter fills the entire apartment and I start begging.

“Austin, stop. I can’t breathe!” I frantically plead in between uncontrollable laughing bouts.

“You gonna stop hiding that killer body from me?” He pauses long enough for me to answer.

“Just the shirt?” I try to bargain even though I have zero leverage.

“No deal.” He grabs his shirt out of my hands and throws it across the room before resuming my torture.

“Please! Stop!”

“Not until you’re begging for mercy!”