Sinful Desires : Gravity Of Us

The bass thumped through the club like a heartbeat, reverberating in Ethan's chest as he leaned back against the sleek leather booth. Marcel sat beside him, nursing a drink, but his eyes kept flicking towards Ethan, watching.

On the stage, a male and female dancer twirled around the pole, their movements fluid and hypnotic, but Ethan wasn't focused on the performance. His gaze was distant, clouded by thoughts he didn't want to entertain.

Marcel noticed. Leaning closer, he raised his voice over the pounding music. "You good, man?"

Ethan snapped out of his trance, offering a quick nod. "Yeah. I'm fine."

Marcel didn't buy it. He studied Ethan for a moment before exhaling and waving it off. "Look, we're here to loosen up. Have fun. Try to relax."

Before Ethan could respond, the female dancer peeled away from the stage, her hips rolling in perfect rhythm to the beat. She approached him, each step slow, international, as she danced in front of him, a seductive invitation.

But Ethan wasn't looking at her. His focus remained locked on the male dancer, the way his muscles flexed with each controlled movement, the way he commanded the pole with effortless grace.

Then, the dancer's gaze flicked towards him.

Ethan's breath hitched as their eyes met, and just for a fleeting moment, he wasn't seeing the stranger— he was seeing Alex!

The memory struck like lightning, sharp and sudden. He blinked, shaking his head, forcing himself back to reality.

Marcel nudged him. "You sure you're okay?"

Ethan swallowed hard. "Yeah."

But the lie sat heavy on his tongue.

He immediately downed his drink in one swift gulp, feeling the burn in his throat but welcoming the distraction. Marcel, now fully engaged with the female dancer, laughed as she twirled effortlessly before him, soaking in the attention Ethan had denied her.

But Ethan wasn't here for distractions, not that kind, anyway.

He stood abruptly, weaving through the crowd until he reached the dimly lit restroom. The music was muffled here, giving him a rare moment of silence. He leaned against the sink, gripping the cold porcelain as he stared at his reflection.

Alex. Why was he thinking about Alex?

He clenched his jaw. "Focus. Stop thinking about him!"

The door creaked open.

Ethan turned, eyes narrowing slightly. The male dancer.

A knowing smile curled the man's lips as he stepped inside, hands casually in his pockets. "I saw the way you were looking at me." He said, his voice smooth, edged with intrigue.

Ethan's breath hitched, but he said nothing.

The dancer tilted his head slightly. "You look tense." He took a slow step forward, then another. "Need help relieving that stress?"

The words dripped with intention. The air between them thickened, charged. Inches away now, the dancer held Ethan's gaze, watching, waiting.

Ethan's body tensed, every nerve screaming at him to shove the man away. But then Alex's voice echoed in his mind: "You'll never have an affair as long as you're engaged to my sister."

Heat flared in Ethan's chest. A fit of rebellion. A challenge to a ghost haunting him.

Without thinking, Ethan grasped the dancer's wrist, yanking him into the stall and slamming the door behind them. His lips crashed against the dancer's, fueled by something more than attraction—anger, defiance, desperation.

They barely had time to get lost in it.

The stall door swung open.

Ethan froze.

Alex stood there, fury burning in his eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it carried enough weight to make Ethan's stomach drop.

"I knew it!"

Before Ethan could react, Alex's hand clamped around his wrist, dragging him out of the bathroom with unrelenting force. Ethan struggled, wrenching his arm, but Alex's grip was iron-tight, fueled by something far beyond anger.

The pounding club music faded as they burst through the doors and into the cool night air. Alex didn't stop until they reached the parking lot, where his car was.

Finally, he let go.

Ethan staggered back, yanking his arm away as he shot Alex a furious glare. "What the hell was that? Did you follow me?" His breath was ragged, fury simmering beneath the surface. Then, with a cold laugh, he scoffed. "You're shameless."

Alex didn't flinch. "I don't care what you think about me." He said, voice sharp, unwavering. "The only thing that matters is that you stay faithful."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Faithful?" He let out a bitter laugh. "To who, Alex? To her or to you?"

Alex's expression darkened. "Get in the car. I'm taking you home."

Ethan stepped back, shaking his head. "No. You're not ruining my night."

Alex took a step forward. "Don't test me, Ethan."

Ethan held his ground. "I swear, if you try to control me again, you're going to regret it."

Then, in one swift motion, Alex grabbed his wrist once more, this time rougher, more desperate.

Ethan's rage exploded.

His fist connected with Alex's jaw, sending him stumbling back. The impact echoed in the stillness of the lot.

Alex straightened slowly, his fingers grazing the spot where Ethan had struck him. His eyes burned with something dangerous, something final.

Ethan met his gaze, breath steady. "I warned you."

With that, he turned and strode back towards the club, leaving Alex standing alone.

Alex exhaled sharply, licking the taste of blood from the inside of his cheek.

Then, under his breath, he muttered, "Don't blame me for what happens next, Ethan."

He turned and headed back inside.

Ethan pushed through the club doors, the pulse of music washing over him like a wave. He needed to lose himself in the rhythm, in the crowd, in anything that was Alex.

But as he stepped further inside, something felt off.

Marcel was no longer in their booth. The female dancer had vanished too, replaced by a low murmur rippling through the crowd.

Ethan turned his head slightly. His pulse spiked.

Alex was back, and he wasn't alone.

Two men flanked him, their presence sharp, deliberate. They weren't dancers, they weren't club staff. The way their eyes locked onto Ethan sent a chill down his spine.

Alex's gaze never wavered. He lifted a hand, barely a motion, but enough.

The two men moved.

Ethan didn't wait to see what came next.

He bolted.