INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings – Episode 54
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
I had done something.
Something I knew for certain Genevieve would love, a gesture I had been eagerly anticipating to share with her. But then, an unpleasant call had shattered my plans: my uncle was húrt.
This was not how I envisioned my day unfolding. Now I find myself in the living room of my house, anxiously awaiting the doctor overseeing Ivan’s care. The good news is that it turned out to be a minor ankle sprain—thanks to his reckless slip on the stairs.
I can’t quite grasp how such a foólish accideñt occurred, but he better prepare for a barrage of scolding from me. How could he be so careless as to tumble down the stairs?!
I was furious with him, but the angel beside me wouldn’t allow the scowl to set in. She kept stroking her thumb along my arm, a soothing gesture that made me wish she would never stop.
“He’s going to be fine,” Genevieve said, her voice attempting to calm me, unaware that her very presence was already doing wonders. “Should I get you some water? You seem tense.”
Of course, I was tense. If Ivan had slipped and somehow ended up deàd, I would be mourning yet another family member. I couldn’t face another loss of that magnitude.
But I wouldn’t let her leave. As she began to stand, I tightened my grip on her wrist. “Stay with me, please.”
She didn’t argue, simply nodded and sat back down. Her thumbs resumed their gentle caress on my arm. We sat in silence, but it wasn’t awkward; the girl beside me—touching me—was my Genevieve.
Before long, the female doctor I knew well entered the room. I had personally hired her for the Bràtva after taking over from my uncle. An East Asian woman in her thirties, she was skilled at her job and adept at keeping secrets.
“Dominic?” As soon as my name left her lips, I stood up. Her dark eyes briefly shifted to Genevieve before returning to me. “Ivan is fine now. He’ll need to rest for a couple of days and avoid being on his feet, but he’s all good.”
Though her attention remains on me, I can see the curiosity flicker in her eyes regarding the woman beside me. It’s the same look I’ve seen in Dexter’s eyes and the others at the base when they first laid eyes on Genevieve, knowing my aversion to physical touch.
But with her, it’s different. I crave her touch, her presence. It’s unfathomable how deeply I want her—what started as want has long since crossed into need. She knows it too; she’s one of the few who can read me like an open book with just a glance.
“Sorry, but how many days is ‘a couple of days’?” Genevieve’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. She ran her fingers through her hair, and my God, she was breathtaking. “And what medications will he need?”
Dr. Chan smiled, clearly impressed by her, which was no surprise. That was her charm; she could captivate anyone with her words. My Vixen.
Forcing myself to look away from Genevieve was a challenge. Clearing my throat, I placed my hand on the small of her back. “Dr. Chan, this is Genevieve. Genevieve, meet Dr. Chan. She works for the Bràtva.”
“She knows?” Dr. Chan asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.
If she’s surprised, I can only imagine how astonished Ivan will be when he finds out. He’ll likely be furious.
“Yes, I do,” Genevieve replied.
Curiosity mingled with surprise was evident on Dr. Chan’s face, but she quickly masked it with professionalism. “Four or five days should suffice for the sprain to heal. As for the medications, he’ll need some paín relievers and a massage on his ankle every night before bed.”
“That’s all?” I asked.
“Yes.”
I nodded, relieved that it was indeed a minor injury. “Thanks.”
Dr. Chan’s lips curled into a professional smile before her gaze flicked back to Genevieve and then returned to me. “I’ll be off now.”
As soon as she stepped out the door, I pulled Genevieve into an unexpected hug, prompting a soft gasp to escape her lips. The scent of cherry blossoms, as if crafted just for her, engulfed me as I buried my head in the crook of her neck—a place I was becoming increasingly obsessed with.
A wave of relief washed over me as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, her tiptoes barely lifting her off the ground. It was a comical sight that never failed to bring a smile to my face, melting away the stress of the day. “Your uncle will be fine,” she reassured me.
I let out a chuckle, “I know that.”
“So, why the hug?”
I pulled back, feigning offense. “What? Can’t I hug you?”
“Of course you can. I was just surprised.”
“Well, don’t be.”
A dazzling smile spread across her face, her signature expression. “Yeah? Because you’re obsesséd with me?”
And I am.
“No, I am not.”
“Not a very convincing denial,” she replied, her voice teasing.
Not to toot my own horn, but I was a pretty good liar. Yet, she had this uncanny ability to read every thought that flickered through my eyes. I wondered if she sensed the fear gnawing at me—the terrór of losing her.
I cupped her gorgeous face in my hands, gently stroking my thumb against the soft skin of her cheek. “Why don’t you go up to your room and freshen up, or read a book while I take the medication to my uncle?”
“You don’t want me to meet your uncle?” There was an undeniable sadness in her tone that twisted my gut, and when she added, “I can just go if you want,” it amplified my guilt.
“Are you kidding me?” I felt her head shake slowly in my palms, the sadness shining in her beautiful eyes. “I…” I exhaled. “Listen, if you want to see my uncle, then I can’t say no to you, especially when you give me that look.”
“So I can see your uncle?” Her voice held a hint of uncertainty as her ocean-blue eyes searched mine. I gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. “Use your words, Dominic.”
A smile tugged at my lips at her demand, and I shifted my hands to wrap around her waist. “Yeah, Vixen, you can see my uncle. Go on, I’ll be there in a minute.”
She nodded, and out of habit, I leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. “I love when you do that.”
“And I love when you blush like that.”
It’s no secret—I adore the way her cheeks flush and turn a deep red every time I kiss her forehead. It’s one of the reasons I can’t help but do it over and over again. Her reaction has completely, utterly and totally captivated me.
“I am not blushing,” she insisted.
But she was.
Before I could respond, she dashed up the stairs, leaving me feeling cold and deprived of her warmth, yet utterly satisfied. I knew it was complicated—that’s just how she affected me.
Genevieve King completed me. She was one of the constants I desperately wanted in my life. Beyond the fleeting encounters with other women I had known, Genevieve’s touch had etched itself into my very being, and now it was all I craved.
She was the warmth of the sun on a cold, decaying córpse; the first breath after a lifetime of suffocatíon. I would truly dié if I ever lost her. So please, God, if you exist, let me keep her forever.
TBC
