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by Victoria Blisse
Category: Erotica/Erotic Romance/Romance
Description: t is Valentine's Day and Jane is taking a ride on the lust bus, join her for the ride of her life. It's a cold, wet morning in February but the new bus driver is hot and makes virgin Jane act in a very brazen way. When the same driver surprises her on Valentine's Day by arriving without his bus and inviting her to spend the day with him, she finds it impossible to refuse. It turns out to be the most shocking, surprising and arousing Valentine's Day of her life. But will the seemingly perfect, as well as pretty, Charlie manage to steal Tim right from out of Jane's embrace or is it more than simple lust that our lovers share?
eBook Publisher: Total-e-bound, 2009
eBookwise Release Date: March 2009
3 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [77 KB]
Reading time: 45-63 min.
Six o'clock in the morning is not a good time to be up and about any time of the year, but in the winter, it is just plain miserable. It's dark, cold and today it was raining, what a fantastic way to start the day, eh?
Living at home whilst commuting to university had seemed such a fantastic idea when I'd made the decision. It's only a couple of buses, I'd thought and it would save me a lot of money, and really and truthfully, that was the only way I'd be able to do university at all. I had to work to pay the tuition fees, and I'd not have time to study if I had to work to cover rent, too.
So hence, the six a.m. at the bus stop started. I needed to get into Manchester at seven-thirty to do a couple hours in the newsagents before lectures, and I had to get two buses, the first of which due at five to six but was barely ever on time.
That day it was late, and I was cold and wet. My umbrella was fine, and my waterproof was waterproof, but the wind drove droplets into my face and against my exposed legs, and the impervious items just weren't really working right. I told myself for the hundredth time that I needed to buy some new tights. I'd laddered those I'd gotten in September, and for the last couple of weeks, I'd had to do without them. I was just loath to spend more money on those horrid torture devices, and I was hoping to see signs of spring soon. February had not obliged up until that point.
The bus finally pulled in, and I leapt on eagerly. The young driver smiled lazily as I flashed my soggy pass.
"A bit wet, eh?" He grinned, his eyes travelling down to my soaked legs.
"You could say that," I blushed, "and it doesn't help when the bus is late."
"Sorry." His stubbled cheeks turned a little pink and his conker-dark eyes shone as he shrugged. "I was a little late getting in this morning."
He pulled shut the doors with a swoosh and his engine rumbled louder. I walked to the front seats and sat down behind the driver's cab and the stairway. Wow, he's bloody good looking, I thought to myself. Well, as bus drivers go anyway and much younger than the usual guy who'd never once said a word to me in all the time he'd driven the bus. I really hoped this new guy would become a regular on this route.
My cold legs started to tingle as the circulation came back, and I bent down to rub them, to make them warmer. I let out a soft whimper as the heat flooded back into my limbs as I scrubbed one leg all the way up to the knee and back down to the ankle. I moved to the other, aware that my touching was heating me up in more ways than one! What a hussy I was--a virgin hussy but a hussy all the same.
I looked up as I caressed the skin just below my knee and saw the driver's eyes fixed on me through the mirror. It was probably just a coincidence. He must have been looking at the traffic out of the back window, right? It was uncanny how his eyes felt like they were literally on me. I felt as if he caressed me with his gaze, and although I knew it should probably creep me out, I actually found it turning me on.
I sat up and pulled the zip down on my waterproof. In the heat of the bus, my body was overheating. Remembering my mum's sage advice, I took my coat off and lay it over my bag beside me. I glanced back as I did so and noticed there wasn't another soul on the bus. That was not unusual for this time of the morning, though.
What was unusual was that when I looked up again the driver's gaze was on me again, and it seemed as if he was looking into my abundant cleavage. The shirt I had to wear for work had quite the plunging neckline. I had complained about it before, a girl with so much boob needed a higher-necked shirt, but the shop owner just shrugged and told me, "No exceptions."