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still wasn’t sure what he was getting at, though it seemed tantalizing. He was certainly bold.

    “Are you talking about sex?” I asked. I’m quite bold myself when provoked, and there was no use beating around the bush with a man such as this.

    “Precisely.”

    I looked around to see if any of the other passengers were eavesdropping on what was beginning to be a titillating conversation. They looked impassive and disinterested: in their own universes.

    “Frankly, no I do not. Never had the opportunity,” I replied.

    This was becoming rather fun; I felt a spark igniting that hadn’t been lit in a very long time.

    “Never had the opportunity?” he asked. “You are so luxurious and lovely. It’s unimaginable that you have never had the opportunity to indulge yourself.”

    His speech was something straight out of a romance novel, accent included, and I wasn’t sure if he was being sincere or playing some kind of game with me. In that moment, however, I made a conscious choice to carry on the conversation and see where it led, come what may. Sometimes a gal has to take chances and this was one of those times.

    “I’m flattered,” I replied. “By the way, my name is Angela.”

    “Michael,” he said and smiled. “It’s a pleasure.”

    “Likewise.” I smiled at him and felt suddenly just slightly sexy.

    “So Angela, will you have drinks with me tonight?”

    At that moment I was shivering, sodden, and not very comfortable. I couldn’t imagine someone such as me having drinks with a gentleman such as him in this state or in any other state. For a moment, however, I let myself contemplate how I could transform myself, and how delightful it would be to take my time getting ready for an evening rendezvous: getting ready for something that I hoped was going to happen.

    “I would need to go home, dry off and change into something a little more evening-worthy,” I replied, surprising myself.

    He raised his eyebrows and smiled at me with delight. “Yes, I’m sure you could use a nice hot shower and time to get yourself ready,” he answered.

    Being the street-smart gal that I am, I recalled all the horror stories of giving a man your address and having him come up and rape you later. I remembered it wasn’t a safe world and I had to be careful. He seemed to read my thoughts.

    “Angela, let me assure you that I am a perfect gentleman. I do not want to do anything that you wouldn’t want me to. I won’t hurt you or take advantage of you. I wish I had some references to prove that.”

    My instincts told me he could be trusted; my body told me that I needed to indulge. It had been a long time indeed, and I didn’t remember a time when a partner had actually seemed delighted with my plentitude. It didn’t seem to bother Michael in the least.

    “Let me think about it,” I said. My voice trembled a little, and our eyes met. I felt wet and not just from the rain. I shivered just a little bit.

    “Here,” he said, unbuttoning his raincoat. “The inside of my coat is fleece. Let me drape it on your lap. Perhaps it will warm you up.”

    I looked around. The bus was packed by this time, all the commuters on their early-evening rush home; there were people all around us crammed into unnatural standing positions. Surely some of them must be listening. I acquiesced with a slight nod of my head and he laid his coat atop my lap.

    “Tell me if you don’t want me to do this,” he said suddenly in a voice I had to strain to hear. “I promise if you don’t, I will get off at the next stop and you’ll never see me again.”

    “Do what?” I asked. I was thrilled by this exchange. It was amazing that I was actually experiencing it and not reading it in my novel.

    “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to slip my hand under the coat and just touch you. I’m very turned on by you, Angela.”

    I grew red and flustered. And wetter yet. There were faces looming all around me. I glanced around