Page 79 of Savage Lover

A surge of lust almost knocks me off my feet.

I’m aware on some level that the pill Levi made me take has kicked in. But here’s the thing—the Molly is not manufacturing emotions where none existed before. Instead, it’s like a key, turning the locks on every door inside of my brain. It’s flinging those doors wide open, letting everything I’d shut away come pouring out all at once.

When I walk up to Nero, it’s with the intention of throwing myself on him. I need him. Desperately. If I don’t get him, I’ll die.

He catches sight of me, and he turns to face me fully. He runs his hand through his hair, to push it back from his face. This gesture seems to take an endless amount of time. I see the ink-black strands of hair sweeping through his fingers, some escaping to fall down over his eyes again. I see his straight, dark brows drawing together. Those steel-gray eyes focusing on me. He bites his full bottom lip and releases it, a movement both uneasy and infinitely sexual.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” I say.

I would usually never say anything so vulnerable. But with whatever the fuck this is coursing through my veins, I’ve lost the ability to hide. I’m compelled to be honest.

“Yeah?” Nero says, surprised.

“Yes. That’s why I came.”

“I thought you were mad at me. Because I was with Bella.”

“It hurt my feelings for a minute,” I admit. “But I know why you were at the bank.”

He’s staring at me, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

“Are you . . . going to tell anyone?”

“No,” I say simply.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t give a shit what you do. I only care . . . how you feel about me.”

Nero frowns. “What’s going on with you?” he says.

“Levi made me take Molly.”

He lets out a surprised snort, like he thinks I might be joking.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you okay?” he says. “Let me look at you.”

He puts his hand on the side of my face and tilts up my chin so he can look in my eyes.

The moment his fingers touch my face, I feel an intense swoop of pleasure, like his fingertips are stroking down raw nerve. It’s a rush of warmth and sensuality, that seems to leave visible sparks in its path.

“Oh yeah,” he says, looking into my dilated pupils. “You’re high as fuck.”

He leans into his car, pulling out a bottle of water.

“You better drink this.”

He twists off the cap. I drink down half the bottle. It tastes delicious and refreshing, even though it’s not cold.

“You want me to take you home?” he says.

“No,” I say dreamily. “It makes me sad being at home. I want to spend time with my dad, but also, I want to cry every time I see him. I can’t stand it.”

“What’s wrong with your dad?” Nero asks sharply.

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