Stranger On A Bus Read Online Jenna Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love Tags Authors:

Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 98(@200wpm)___ 78(@250wpm)___ 65(@300wpm)

Mari saw him every day – riding the same bus as her, handsome beyond compare, his striking eyes always fixed on her. She waited for him to make his move, but he never did. But then one day, when her entire life came crashing down around her, he was there. But now Mari’s jealous old employer is out to ruin her, and with all his money and power, will Cane be able to protect her or will they both be destroyed in the process?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



I see him when I get on the bus, but that’s no surprise. He’s always there, like he’s waiting for me. Watching me with those piercing, gorgeous eyes of his, set back above cheekbones so sharp they could cut glass.

Who is he? What is a man so gorgeous he could be on a runway in Paris doing on a public bus like this?

I remember the first time I saw him…

It was an early morning like always, and I was on my way to work, feeling exhausted and a little under the weather. My phone charger had broken and my phone hadn’t charged, meaning my alarm hadn’t gone off, so I was late and not wearing any makeup and also hadn’t had time to shower. I must have looked like a mess, but there he was, looking at me in a way that without words somehow made me feel…beautiful.

And that was a way no man had ever made me feel before.

I couldn’t even look at him and was almost thankful when the bus arrived at my stop and I was able to get off.

But I thought about him all day. I was so distracted that when I was doing Mr. Baxter’s laundry, I completely forgot the detergent and had to go back and do it all over again.

He made my body come alive like never before. Instantly blushing, it was like my skin was on fire, and a strange, hot feeling blossomed between my legs. When I went into the bathroom, I discovered I was dripping wet and needed to dry myself off with paper towels before I was able to go back to work.

I started fantasizing about him…this man who I’d never even met, whose name I didn’t even know.

I’d never even had fantasies before. When girls at school would talk about guys they thought were cute and what they wanted to do with them, I just simply couldn’t relate. But suddenly, here I was thinking about this mysterious man on the bus, obviously much older than me, who had never even spoken a word to me.

I started wondering if I was crazy—started wishing that every day I got on the bus to go to work that that would be the day he would come and talk to me.

But every day goes by like the last; he looks at me, watch me as I ride to my stop, not saying a word, and watch me as I get off. I see him when I get back on to ride home, and that’s it.

Maybe I should be scared.

Maybe he’s stalking me. The thought did cross my mind, but I have to confess that somehow that doesn’t scare me—it turns me on even more.

Today will be the day, I think again as I watch him watching me from his seat. We’re only two stops from my destination, which means he has about three minutes to come over and ask me for my number. He’s showing no signs of getting up; he’s just sitting there with his eyes on me like every other day, but for some reason I know that today is going to be the day.

I try not to be awkward as I flick my eyes to him and then look back at the seat in front of me, but I already know I’m blushing. No matter how many times he looks at me, my body will never get used to his stare.

The bus stops, the doors hiss open, and the old man and his dog get off.

Okay, buddy, this is your last chance.

The doors close, and the bus starts moving again. My heart is in my throat. It’s only us now—us and the bus driver. My face is absolutely burning with anticipation. Even if he does come over now, we won’t have much time for a conversation before I have to get off at my stop.

Maybe I should just go over to him.

No. No, that’s not happening.

Even if I did somehow have the courage to approach a man as incredibly good-looking as him, the thought of it just does not work for me.

If he wants me, he can make it happen.

Even without looking at him, I can feel his eyes on me—his gaze like invisible energy beams penetrating the universe…

…and then the bus stops. The doors hiss, and I’m on my feet.

“Well, this is my stop,” I say, loud enough so he can hear it. I’m hoping he’ll say something as I grab my bag and head for the door, but just like all the other days, my mysterious, handsome stranger remains silent as I step off the bus.

My heart sinks as the doors hiss again and close behind me and leave me standing alone at the bus stop, staring up the road at the Baxter Estate where I’m now going to have to spend the rest of my day at work, wondering why I’m not good enough for him, or what I did wrong for him to not approach me.