Page 73 of Captured Fantasy

“That’s so sad,” I whispered.

“My family isn’t exactly close,” he said, pulling me back against him. “I love Olivia and we were close as kids, but it’s been a while since we really talked. Our parents treated us differently and I think it ultimately drove a wedge between us.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got a lot of freedom so I kind of took off and did my own thing outside the house as soon as I could drive,” he said. “Olivia has always been saved for Lucien. It’s a stupid, outdated practice. Be lucky you didn’t grow up in the upper classes of the outfit, it’s full of shit like that. Anyway, my mother is a massive bitch and she tormented Olivia for years and my father likes beating women in his spare time. She’s better off with Lucien.”

I was silent for a minute, digesting this information. “I hope Lucien is good to her,” I said after a while. “He’s not a bad man, he’s just…strange.”

“My childhood doesn’t hold a candle to how fucked up his was,” Cosimo said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get over my mother leaving,” I said quietly. “But I had a good childhood. My father was a great man.”

There was a long silence as he went back to stroking my hair, his breath warm on the back of my neck. He pressed his mouth to the side of my neck and I felt something hard nudge my ass.

“What’s got you excited again?” I murmured, turning in his arms.

His gaze bored into me. “How tired are you?”

If he had asked me that an hour ago I would have said I was exhausted, but now the answer was not at all. I kissed him softly and his tongue darted out, tasting my mouth. He moaned quietly and his cock pressed against my thigh, twitching with need.

“I’m not tired,” I whispered.

“Come back to my condo,” he said. “I can go without sleep tonight.”

I nodded wordlessly, wanting nothing more than to go with him. After we had bathed and he dressed, he disappeared downstairs while I searched my closet for something to wear. He’d brought his motorcycle so I chose a practical pair of linen shorts, a silk blouse, and a pair of sandals.

When I climbed down the stairs with a little bag of toiletries, he was waiting in the kitchen. I paused, my heart fluttering in my chest, as he met my eyes. My God, he was so handsome in his boots and his jacket.

“Ready, Enza?”

“Yes,” I whispered breathlessly.

He handed me the helmet and helped me fasten it under my chin. I’d never ridden a motorcycle before, but I felt safe on the seat behind Cosimo. He guided my arms around his torso and I held on tightly as he pulled out into the street. The feeling of clinging to him as the engine revved in a powerful burst was unmatched. The air streamed in my hair, blowing it back, ruining the carefully constructed waves. This was freedom, speeding through the dark streets together with nothing but the empty road ahead.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

COSIMO

We left the suburbs and moved out onto the highway, driving up to the wealthier part of the city by the river. This was where the outfit’s elite lived—the Espositos, the Barones, the Antonuccis, and the rest of the richest members of our society. The ones who traded their women for alliances like we were still living in the medieval era. I doubted Enza had ever been up this way before.

I pulled up outside my two-story condo. The river was quiet tonight and everything smelled like burnt sunshine and summer. I hit the button on my keychain and the door slid open as we pulled into garage. She gave a quiet gasp as I kicked down the stand and dismounted. Her eyes raked over the numerous motorcycles and cars in rows around us. I paused—she looked fucking adorable with her mouth open and her eyes wide.

“Let’s get this off,” I said, reaching for the strap of her helmet.

“Are these all yours?” she said, tilting her chin for me.

“Most of them,” I said. “The vintage Buick is a gift I’ve been working on for Amadeo. Obviously he’s not really in a place to take it right now.”

She strolled down the line of motorcycles, some of them fully finished and some of them in a state of being repaired. “These are all Triumphs, You certainly have brand loyalty.”

“I like British bikes better,” I said. “These are all rebuilds, except for the one at the end. It’s a custom I had made when I was younger, before I started rebuilding them myself.”

“You rebuilt all of these?” She spun in a slow circle.

I stepped up behind her, pulling her against my body. She turned, looking up at me with deep hunger in her eyes.

“What is that?”

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