SHARI’S FIRST THOUGHT on waking was that she’d better not break a nail hiking, since she was growing them for the wedding.

“You’d think it was your wedding,” Therese had chided after hearing about the all-out body sculpting, nail growing, clothes shopping and date-prepping program on which Shari had embarked.

Therese could mock her all she wanted, but Shari was determined to show B.J., Randy and their mutual friends that she was doing absolutely fine, thank you very much.

A naturally early riser, she had the lunches packed, her apartment tidied and still had time for a hundred sit-ups…well, seventy-three. But, as she rose, groaning, she vowed to get up to a hundred before the week was out.

She took the time to change the water for the roses that graced her coffee table, stopping to touch a silky red petal and then dip her head to catch its delicate scent.

Luke had sent her flowers. It was such a sweet gesture she smiled, almost immediately realizing he must have got the idea from that book, which had her shaking her head as she padded to the bathroom to add another layer of strengthening topcoat to her fingernails.

When he knocked on her door she was all ready. Then she saw him, and her pulse fluttered. She hadn’t seen him since he’d kissed her in the parking lot the night before last. The contact of their lips had been so brief and yet hinted at so much, he’d left her feeling confused and somehow empty. Her tongue traced her lips without any planning on her part, and Luke’s eyes darkened as he watched the gesture.

When she realized what she was doing she yanked her tongue back in her mouth. “Shall we go?”

She grabbed her backpack and they made their way to the parking garage where he led her to one of those macho SUVs that was so dusty and scratched she suspected he, unlike most SUV owners, actually took his off-road.

“The trail I’m thinking of takes around five hours round trip. That okay with you?”

If she’d known she’d be hiking for five hours she might have skipped the sit-ups. She flexed her leg muscles and confirmed they were still a little sore from yesterday’s workout. Still, she only had three weeks left until the wedding. She imagined she’d have sore muscles most days. “Yes, fine.”

“I like this trail. It follows a river and you get some nice views when you get up high.”

They chatted on the drive there as though they were nothing but friends, but there was a silent pull, like the undertow of a seemingly placid sea, that hinted at more than friendship. She wondered if she’d been wise to let Luke talk her into this.

Once they set off on the hike she was suddenly glad she’d come. The air smelled fresh and clean, of pine and new spring growth. Weedy wildflowers poked through the greenery. The sky above them was blue with a couple of cotton-candy clouds. Her muscles were warming and stretching as they walked, and she had to admit that five hours of this ought to be a major fat burner, thigh toner and butt firmer.

Birds, flowers, fresh green things, and the view… Well, mostly the view was of Luke striding ahead of her in shorts, which, as views went, was nice.

Although, as the trail steepened, the view began to seem less nice. In fact, the sight of those muscular legs striding ahead with perfect ease began to irritate her.

As he’d promised, he’d brought the water. He wore a belt with a pocket on each hip containing a water bottle.

“Hey,” she said. Wheezed actually.

He didn’t seem to have heard her. She glared at the jaunty gunslinger belt containing water bottles instead of six-shooters. “Hey!” she yelled.

“What’s up?” He turned, and she could see that he wasn’t even panting. Or sweating.

She, on the other hand, was pumping out perspiration like a garden sprinkler, and her ribs felt as though they were flapping like bird’s wings as her lungs dragged in air.

“Need water.”

He dug out a bottle and presented it to her. “I’ll slow down. Sorry.”

She drank water thankfully. “No. It’s fine.” She’d be so thin and toned by the wedding, B.J. would barely recognize her. Ha.

“Drink as much as you like. I’ve got lots more in my pack.”

After a couple of life-restoring breaths, she motioned Luke ahead, sneakily hanging on to the water bottle. She was certain she’d need it again soon.

After a while she noticed the ground had leveled, and from somewhere her body had tapped into a new burst of energy. “How are you doing?” Luke asked, turning to her.

“I got my second wind,” she replied, liking the way his T-shirt looked when he turned from the waist and it plastered against his chest. He must have perspired, after all, for it clung damply against his muscles. Yum. She felt her own chest tighten at the sight and involuntarily imagined how his chest would feel, naked, rubbing against hers. She had a feeling it would feel fantastic. There was nothing complex about that move. She could teach him how to ace it in no time.

Already she was thinking like a teacher. She couldn’t help herself. She’d learned early to give her students small challenges to rev up their confidence for the tougher stuff.

A fine chest like that, rubbed against a woman’s sensitive breasts, would get him enough oohs and aahs to give him some much-needed confidence. Of that she was certain.

Was she willing to go that extra step for him? She’d agreed to kissing, no more. Bare-chested rubbing was definitely an extra, thrown in out of the goodness of her heart.

However, he was being nice enough to act as her personal trainer today, giving her an outdoor workout, so maybe she could afford to be generous.

She snuck another glance at his chest and wondered if it was hairy. She loved hairy chests. Yes, she thought as warmth gathered in her lower body, she was feeling generous.

In fact, maybe she was looking at this all wrong. Instead of letting Luke set the pace, she, with her experience and confidence, should take charge. For goodness’ sake, she was the teacher, wasn’t she? Would she let the janitor stand at the front of the class and give the lecture? No wonder she’d felt frustrated. It was time to start doing what she did best. Teach.

As Luke resumed his murderous pace, she decided to think about something else. She couldn’t afford to waste any energy on warming her erogenous zones. Right now she needed to keep her legs walking and her lungs inflating. Sexual impulses were the equivalent of a leaky fuel tank.

After another half an hour, she cracked and dug into her pack for the mountain mix she’d run out and bought, glad now she’d purchased the kind that included M&M’s. She was certain the raisins and nuts and pumpkin seeds were going to do wonders for her energy and stamina, but, frankly, she needed the chocolate.

“How far do you think we’ve come?” she asked Luke. He stopped and turned, taking out his own water bottle and drinking deeply.

“I guess around three or four miles. Why?” He dug into the bag of trail mix she offered.

“I want to make sure I’ve earned another handful of this stuff.” She glanced into the bag. M&M’s winked at her like precious jewels in a pirate’s treasure chest. “Who am I kidding? This is a case of desperate need.”

Luke chuckled. “Come on. It’s only another couple of miles to a nice picnic spot.”

A couple of miles. She could do that. She’d play a game with herself. For every fifteen minutes of hiking, she’d allow herself one chocolate treat.

Three candies later, Luke led her off the main trail and down a narrow path until they hit a grassy clearing overlooking the river. From their perch they could see a wide gravel shoal where the river formed a natural bay, and some logs and a larger meadow. An older couple was packing up a picnic. “That’s where the main trail leads,” Luke said, “but I like this spot better. It’s more private.”

She glanced at him sharply, trying to gauge his meaning. Forgetting her own earlier thoughts about bare-chest rubbing, she narrowed her eyes in his direction. Did he have something private planned for her? If so, she’d be showing him right quick that only Friday was Total Moron day. Every other day of the week she expected him to act like a normal person.

However, as they unpacked the picnic she’d made and sat out under the sunshine, he didn’t act remotely like a lover. Quite the opposite. He was so casual she relaxed completely.

She sighed with relief as she eased down onto the sun-warmed grass.

“Tired?” he asked, stretching out.

“It’s been a while since I hiked,” she admitted. Her feet felt hot and stifled in the heavy boots. Oh, what the hell. Swiftly she undid her hiking boots, yanked them off and then slipped off the scratchy wool socks.

Mmm. A light breeze blew gently against her hot toes and she wiggled them, enjoying the almost sexual feeling of warm sun, soft grass and free-flowing air on her toes. She glanced up to see Luke staring at her feet, fierce concentration on his face. Something about his expression sent a shaft of heat stabbing her belly.

He shifted his gaze to her face and they stared at each other for a single, earth-stopping moment.

She swallowed and broke the spell by reaching for her backpack and digging out the lunch. “I hope you like ham and cheese. I wasn’t sure.”

“Sounds great,” he said, sounding much less flustered than she.

Careful not to let any of her skin touch any of his, she passed him a double-decker sandwich.

He unwrapped it and took a bite. “It’s good. Thanks.”

She bit into her own single sandwich and settled back against a granite boulder.

By the time they got through her homemade, oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookies to the plums, she’d relaxed completely. The odd moment of sexual awareness between her and Luke might never have happened. He was acting like a casual hiking companion—an acquaintance, nothing more.

No sooner did she realize that than she wondered why he wasn’t taking the opportunity to further their lessons now that he had her in a secluded outdoor setting complete with dappled sunlight, a light spring breeze, soft, cushiony, fragrant green grass and privacy. This place was a postcard for intimate romantic trysts.

Perhaps he was too shy, or felt it was inappropriate outside of their agreed Fridays.

Much as she appreciated his discretion, she was a big believer in teaching moments—those opportunities that occur naturally when a lesson sticks because the student is in the right frame of mind to learn.

This felt very much like one of those moments. Besides, she’d been thinking about his chest for several miles now. She shot him a glance from under her lashes. He was packing his plum pits in the plastic wrap from his sandwich, which looked like getting-ready-to-hike-some-more movements to her. She was nowhere near ready for more hiking.

Everything seemed to point to taking advantage of this perfect teaching moment, especially when she noticed a drop of plum juice on his chin.

She scooted closer to Luke until he glanced up at her, brows slightly raised.

“You missed some plum,” she said softly. Keeping her gaze on his she caught the gleaming purple drop with her thumb and rubbed it gently against his bottom lip. “I love plums,” she said, and lowered her mouth oh, so slowly to his. She hovered, her lips almost touching, then let her tongue sweep across his full lower lip from corner to corner.

Mmm. She breathed, tasting plum and warm male, before fitting her mouth to his.

Oh, he was warm and he tasted wonderful. He was also restrained. A lot of guys would have flipped her onto her back by now and would have wrested control of the kiss, but Luke didn’t do that. Whether because of uncertainty or shyness, he was leaving her in charge.

Seemed a shame to waste such a great opportunity for furthering Luke’s education.

She found she enjoyed taking the lead, which gave her a heady sense of power. She gazed into his eyes and saw a churning blend of passion and excitement. She couldn’t resist the urge to go back to his mouth for more.

While he might be slow to take over the lead, he managed to keep up with her just fine. When she withdrew her tongue from his mouth, his followed, dipping in and teasing her mouth in the identical way she’d teased his. It was an incredible turn-on, a very adult form of follow the leader.

While heat began to build in her body, she kept recalling the sight of his damp T-shirt outlining his muscular chest. She wanted to see it. Needed to see it. Had to see it.

With a quick glance to confirm they still had complete privacy, she slipped a hand under the hem of his shirt and pulled.

He rose slightly, curling his spine to help her and what that curl did to his abdomen made her weaker at the knees than she already was. Muscle, hard and ropy, striped his belly. As the shirt rose it revealed a nicely contoured chest with just the right amount of reddish-brown hair.

“Nice,” she sighed, her enthusiasm overcoming her sense as she trailed her fingertips across the tawny skin of his chest and burrowed into the springy hair. “You have the perfect amount of chest hair.”

“How do you measure perfect?” His voice was joking, but he sounded a little embarrassed at the way she was gushing over him. He must be kind of shy. Probably that’s where his problem originated, because there was nothing wrong with him that she could tell. He was gorgeous, smelled good, tasted good and the evidence of his arousal nudged against her when she surprised them both by rolling on top of him.

“I guess it’s personal taste. Smooth as a baby’s bum is too little for me. But shag rug is too much.”

Just running her fingers over him wasn’t going to be enough. Her own chest ached to join the party.

Another teaching moment was in front of them. She gazed down at him. “I’m feeling pretty aroused,” she murmured, and had the pleasure of watching his eyes darken. Just telling him her feelings was making her squirm.

He swallowed audibly.

Arching her spine, like a cat stretching, she said, “Can you tell?”

His gaze dropped to her chest where the tight, tingling sensation confirmed that her nipples were doing their best to call attention to themselves. Good boy. Go to the head of the class.

He nodded.

“How can you tell?”

He raised his gaze—was that a wicked glint of humor? It was gone so fast she must have imagined it. He lifted a hand to her face—no, no, no, that’s not where she wanted to feel his hand!—and traced her cheek. “You’re flushed.”

She was?

He ran a finger over her mouth, so shocking and unexpected that she quivered. “Your lips are swollen.”

She licked her lips and nodded.

“Heart rate’s elevated,” he continued. Good. The heart was in the chest. His observations were moving him in the right direction. Why didn’t he touch her tingling breasts?

“Breathing’s a little fast.” The man was checking her out like a racehorse gearing up for the Kentucky Derby. Still, he was very observant.

“That’s great,” she said. “You only missed one symptom. Well, two actually.” Tired of waiting for him to pick up on her body’s obvious hints, she took his hands and placed his palms on her breasts where her tightened nipples strained.

He cupped them lightly and she almost moaned. She didn’t remember the last time she’d felt so…so sexy. But all he did was move his palms around, and she wanted so much more. He was obviously waiting for her to make the next move, but she wanted to give him the confidence to make one of his own.

“Unbutton my top,” she suggested softly, glad she’d worn a sleeveless cotton shirt rather than a T-shirt.

His gaze rose to hers and his eyes seemed to burn, then he did as she asked, starting at her throat and working his way down slowly. He was probably nervous and feeling hesitant, which must be why he was taking his damned time when she wanted him to rip the shirt off and pull her down against him.

“You should wear a sports bra,” he said when he spread the two sides of her shirt. “Better support.”

“I like this one. Easier access.” Deciding it was time for teacher to take control once more of the lesson, she reached for the front clasp and snapped her bra open, pulling the cups apart slowly, revealing herself to him.

Luke stared at her breasts as though he’d never seen such things before. After a long, silent moment, when she felt his gaze on her with such intensity she expected scorch marks, he said, “Thank you.”

She tipped her head back and let the sun touch her face, knowing the posture made her look like the figurehead on the prow of a ship. That’s a little how she felt, too. Sailing into uncharted waters, nipples first. A light breeze tousled her hair and teased her naked chest. “Do you want to touch them?”

“You have no idea.” His voice was as soft as the breeze. She felt him shift and then his hands were warm where the air had been cool. Taking her weight on her knees, she freed her arms so she could cup her hands over his and show him how she liked to be touched.

She felt his fingers beneath hers as together they plumped and rubbed her breasts just the way she liked. Then, linking her fingers with his, she lowered her head so she was kissing him again, deeper this time. As her chest came into contact with his, a low hum began vibrating in the back of her throat. He was so warm and furry and muscular. She wrapped her arms around him and lay flush against his body, feeling wonderful.

Far, far below them she heard a dog bark. If she scooted to the edge of the bluff she could look down and see the animal’s owners. For all she knew there were a hundred people down there, but up here it was private and secluded.

Her bare legs tangled with his, her toes stubbing against his big leather boots. Deciding to use the unyielding leather to her advantage, she braced her feet against them and pushed herself up and down, gasping at the sensations as her sensitive breasts scraped against hair and muscle and warm, warm skin.

Oh, boy. This was just too much like mimicking sex. She felt the way her body was preparing to be entered, everything tingling and softening—rather eagerly, too. It was warm enough, private enough, and they were both excited enough. She imagined him, lunging like a puppy, eager and grateful, and she felt a deep stirring to give him a lesson that would blow his mind. But, even as the idea took hold, warning bells started clamoring in her head. She wasn’t prepared to go any further. She hadn’t intended to include sex play with the picnic and she certainly hadn’t packed condoms along with the trail mix.

Abruptly, she stopped moving, trying to find a graceful exit line. Even though she was trying to remain still, her chest was heaving as though she’d just run straight up this hill. Of course, Luke’s chest was doing the same; so even without any effort from her, there was plenty of chest rubbing going on. And it felt so damn good.

Luke smiled up at her and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “We should probably get going. What kind of personal trainer lets you take a two-hour lunch break?”

Swallowing her astonishment that he was calling a halt, she forced a casual smile to her own face. “Right.”

She pulled her clothing back together and put her hiking boots on. He stuffed himself into his shirt, and they gathered up their things.

She couldn’t believe he’d called time-out. She’d planned to do that. What kind of man, in a clinch with a half-naked woman, didn’t do his level best to get the other half naked?

LUKE FELT LIKE A PRIZE ass. The way he was acting, Shari was going to think he was gay.

What man in the world wouldn’t get on his bended knee and beg Shari Wilson for everything she was willing to give? Even just one single taste of her glorious breasts and he could have died happy.

But if he’d had so much as a lick, so much as one firm, berry-ripe nipple rubbing against his tongue, he would have been lost and begging. Ruining his chance to prove his book worked.

And so far, in spite of the fact he was suffering more pent-up sexual frustration than a teenager, he had to admit the book was working amazingly well. Shari had pretty much taken care of chapter two today all on her own.

One glance at her stunned and frustrated countenance had him stifling a grin. If she had any idea how many frustrated urges he was also trying to stifle right now she’d be feeling pretty damn full of herself. The lady was amazing, so generous and sexy and…sweet.

She did her best to impart technique to him without appearing to teach, leaving his ego intact, although she was pretty much shredding his self-control.

Had he ever wanted a woman this much? He tried to recall, but he didn’t think so.

Probably that was simply because of his self-imposed restrictions. He was playing this one by the book. By his book. And he’d never wanted so badly to break all the rules.

Shari took the lead for the return trip, going so fast she verged on a trot. He couldn’t blame her. If she was feeling half as charged as he was, she had a lot of free-floating sexual energy to burn.

He let her go ahead because he understood that she needed the outlet, but it wasn’t easy walking behind her and watching the sway of her hips, the way the sun stroked her long, sexy legs—rendered even more feminine by the clunky hikers and gray wool socks.

Still, it was better focusing on her back view than letting himself drift into reverie about the sight of her half-naked front and the feel of her body snugged against his.

And he especially didn’t want to wonder about what would have happened if he’d followed his urge to flip her onto her back and put his mouth to her breasts, trailed his tongue down her smooth belly, unfastened her shorts and… Nope, he wasn’t going there. Not today.

By the time they got back to the car he was amazed at himself. He’d had a warm and willing woman in his arms and he’d stopped himself indulging in all of her sweetness because of a stupid book? For the second time in as many weeks he felt like whacking himself over the head with the stupid thing.

Ahead of him, Shari pulled out the trail mix and he watched her pick out every one of the colored chocolate candies and pop them into her mouth. Red, yellow, blue, brown, she ate them one at a time, pushing them beneath her lips, which were still plump and juicy from kissing him.

His hands literally twitched to take her in his arms and find a handy spot somewhere in the bushes where they could enjoy each other uninterrupted.

Sex for Total Morons was only a book. Paper and ink. Shari was flesh and blood. He couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d looked with the sun on her breasts, the dusky-tipped nipples taunting him. He had to see them again, touch them again, taste them…the hell with the book.

Shari routed through the trail mix and then on a muffled curse, which he assumed meant she’d already gobbled the last of the M&M’s, shoved the bag into her pocket.

“Shari,” he called to her.

She didn’t even turn around. “Hurry up. I have to get to a store.” She sounded like a heavy smoker having a serious nicotine fit. “I need more M&M’s.”