...I’ve never been this up close and personal with a man like this. Most of my relationships have been with guys who would be described as normal—small beer belly, scraggly beards, and foam-rubber buns.

This guy is like a poster boy for perfect male specimen—roped abs, sexy five o’clock shadow and buns you could build roads on.

I start fanning myself with my hand like my mother did when she was suffering hot flashes. Hers were caused by the change of life. Mine are obviously hormonal in nature as well. If Mom were here and seeing this, well, she’d be passed out cold. I’m holding onto my consciousness with a thread.

“I don’t believe so,” Dr. Strauss answers. “Why don’t you ask him? His name is Raul.”

Good point, I concede. “Hi, Raul. I’m Cathy. Are you cold without any clothes?”

“Ma’am,” he answers, his voice a mix between Antonio Banderas and Orlando Bloom with a touch of southern thrown in to guarantee melting of the Artic snow cap.

My body starts reacting in places I’d forgotten about over the last few months.

“I don’t feel the cold much. I believe exercise and the right diet helps your body’s metabolism self-regulate temperature.”

O-k-a-y. This guy might not be the perfect man for me after all. You may not have figured this out, but I am not a fitness freak. The last time I ran anywhere it was because the local donut shop was having a sale on day-old éclairs. Remember I told you about my obsession for chocolate? As long as I didn’t have to go to the gym with Raul, I sure didn’t mind spending some time gazing at the results of his healthy lifestyle.

“What kind of diet do you eat?” I ask.

“Vegetables, soy protein and fish at least once a week,” he replied politely. “When I want to splurge, I’ll have a half a bran muffin.”

Oh, man, we are simply not going to work. I turn back to Dr. Strauss.

“Is it too late to change my answer to your question?” I ask.

The twinkle appears again in his eyes. “You can change your answer, but why don’t you and Raul get to know each other a bit first. I’ll just leave you two to get acquainted.”

With that, Strauss leaves us, closing the door behind him. Now that we’re alone, my palms are itching a bit. I’m wondering if Raul feels as good as he looks.

But I don’t want to be forward.

“How did you get hooked up in this study?” I ask.

Raul seems a little surprised at my question. “You want to talk?”

I may have made another tactical error. “Well, sure I like to talk. It’s one of the most pleasurable ways to spend time.”

“Didn’t Dr. Strauss tell you this study is about exploring our sexuality?” Raul asks.

“Yes. Are you the type of person who likes to just get it on without even warming things up a bit?”

Raul smiles. “Ah. You’re shy.”

“You’ve figured me out.”

His smile deepens. Now I sense there’s something more than just the amazing outer wrappings here. “Perhaps. Do you really not know any of the Kama Sutra positions?”

Was he wired into the computer as well? Before I can figure an answer to his question that won’t prove I’m the sexual disaster I’m acting, Raul moves ever closer to me and it’s as if every nerve in my body goes on red alert. “I…I…I…”

I see the index finger of his right hand reach out and touch my arm. I swear it’s like I’ve got that nice humming buzz I associate with my vibrator or getting a half-price deal on those Anna Sui’s I’ve been dreaming about.

“There’s the Deep One. That’s where the man assures his woman receives direct clitoral stimulation and deepest penetration. I’ll be so deep inside you, we’ll neither be able to stop.”

Talk about hot flashes. Now I’ve got one that’s settled directly on my clit. I have to get some control here or I’m going to start blubbering like a baby.

“What do you do for a living, Raul?” His name sounds like “R-o-w-e-l-l” because at the moment, his finger moves up my arm to the inside of my elbow. Who knew there was a direct nerve link from that spot to my pussy?

“Computers,” he replies. “Let’s not talk about me. Let’s talk about you. Have any of your previous lovers shown you the pleasure of the The Fusion position?”