Austin pulls away, the cool morning air replacing the warmth of his body next to me.

It’s early.

Really early.

His alarm hasn’t even gone off yet. I’m half-asleep but awake enough to know I don’t want him to leave.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I grab his hard forearm and plead, “Stay.” My voice is thick with sleep. I’m not sure he hears me, much less understands. Luckily, the kung fu grip I have on his arm is less subtle. I’m not ready to let him go. I need a little bit more of him. I think I’m always going to need a little bit more.

I might be addicted to Austin Jacobs.

“I’ll be back,” he answers as he extricates himself from my clutches. He steps into the living room and I hear him talking to someone. I can’t tell what he says, but he’s crawling back in bed with me in a few minutes. As soon as he’s under the covers again, our bodies gravitate together like magnets. The sensation of his toned body engulfing mine is sublime.

“You don’t have to go?” I ask timidly.

“Nah. Playing hookie today. Go back to sleep.”

I cling to this delectable moment, holding him tight. He’s on his back with his arms around me, my body curled into his side. The contact is not nearly enough. I let out an involuntary sigh, frustrated I’m not able to get close enough.

Without thinking, I climb on top of him, straddling him. He lets out a soft groan as I settle my weight onto him. I lay my head on his chest and the sound of his steadfast heartbeat echoes in my ear. I hum contentedly.

Austin lazily holds my waist with one hand and brushes my messy hair off my shoulder with the other. His fingertips tracing those figure eights across my naked back send a shiver through my body, making me rock my hips down against him. He gives me an appreciative moan.

He’s hard.

I don’t know if it’s because I’m naked on top of him or just because he’s a guy and it’s morning.

Morning wood is a thing, right?

I lift my head and gaze at the glorious hunk of naked man under me. A half-asleep Austin is a whole new experience. His face is softer, and yet somehow more serious. Genuine. Awake he’s always smiling, joking. Even when it’s an act, which I’m starting to think is more often than not. Lying underneath me, with his eyes closed, he looks innocent. Vulnerable.

Thing number eight I love about Austin—when he lets his guard down.

I’m naked on top of Austin Jacobs. I should be terrified, but I’m not. I’m not overthinking it or freaking out. I’m just enjoying him.