Henry came out of the bathroom to find Elizabeth lying near the foot of the bed with her laptop open, one hand propping her chin up while the other scrolled through emails. The shirt she was wearing had ridden up, revealing a slice of her back that was just too enticing to pass up. He crawled onto the bed and leaned over her shoulder as if to see what she was reading or whisper in her ear, and then made his attack.
She shrieked the second his fingers dug into her side, breaking into uncontrollable laughter as she tried to squirm away from him.
"Henry," she got out between gasps for air as he kept tickling her, ignoring her cry for mercy.
After a moment she was able to flip herself over and lunge for him. He lost his grip on her the second her hand found the underside of his thigh.
"Hey!" he yelped involuntarily as he suddenly found himself on the defense.
"You asked for it," she said, continuing her assault on his leg.
Henry should have known not to start a battle with his cunning wife; within thirty seconds, despite his best efforts, she had him on his back. She had one hand tickling his neck and the other creeping up his shirt, and the torture was becoming a bit too much for him.
"Fine, I give up!" he shouted, and she stopped. "You win."
She grinned, triumphant, but didn't move from her position, still pinning him down beneath her with their faces mere inches apart. It seemed she wasn't quite ready to release her hold on him, not when she had him in such a convenient position. "Good," she said simply, punctuating it with a quick kiss. "Now I've got you right where I want you."