Chapter 3: Under the Surface

 

Lucas stood in the center of the gallery, the silence engulfing him now that Ethan had left. His mind replayed every word, every touch, every heated glance exchanged between them. He was trembling—was it from nerves or desire? He couldn’t tell anymore.

Who was Ethan? And how could a stranger have such an immediate, visceral effect on him? Lucas clenched his fists, his breath uneven as he tried to shake off the daze. The weight of Ethan’s presence still lingered, like a thick fog wrapping around his senses, refusing to let go.

His eyes fell on one of his paintings, the chaotic strokes of color and texture that mirrored the storm brewing inside him. He’d always poured his emotions into his art—fear, pain, desire—but now, standing there, he realized how exposed his work made him. 

Ethan had seen right through him, as if each brushstroke was a piece of his soul laid bare for the world to see. It unnerved him, how someone could look at his art and unravel him so easily.

“Damn it,” Lucas muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair. He needed to get a grip. It was just a moment—an intense, overwhelming moment—but still, a moment. He wasn’t going to let some stranger get under his skin like this. He wasn’t going to fall into whatever game Ethan was playing.

But even as he tried to convince himself, the memory of Ethan’s touch lingered on his skin, the warmth of his breath still ghosting against his ear. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, and he cursed again, hating the way his body reacted.

The gallery was almost completely empty now, just a few stragglers chatting quietly near the exit. Lucas needed air. He grabbed his jacket and slipped out the back door, stepping into the cool night. The fresh air hit his face, but it did little to calm the storm inside him.

Lucas leaned against the brick wall, closing his eyes as he let the chill sink into his skin. He needed to clear his head. He needed to forget about Ethan. But every time he tried, he found himself craving more—more of that intensity, more of that electrifying pull. It terrified him.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and his eyes shot open. A tall figure emerged from the shadows, moving with a confidence that was all too familiar. Ethan.

“How did you—” Lucas began, but his voice caught in his throat. Ethan was right there, just inches away, his gaze burning into Lucas’s, unwavering.

“I told you,” Ethan said softly, his voice smooth and controlled. “I wasn’t done with you.”

Lucas’s heart pounded in his chest, his pulse racing as Ethan closed the gap between them. He felt cornered, trapped, yet every part of him ached to close the distance, to give in to the magnetic pull that tugged at him relentlessly.

Ethan raised a hand, his fingers brushing against Lucas’s jaw, tilting his face up slightly. Lucas froze, his breath hitching as he felt the heat of Ethan’s touch, so gentle yet so possessive.

“I see through you, Lucas,” Ethan whispered, his eyes dark, filled with a dangerous desire. “I know you feel it too.”

Lucas’s mouth went dry, and he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Ethan’s piercing stare. He hated how much he wanted this—how much he wanted him.

Before Lucas could think, before he could stop himself, he leaned forward, their lips a hair’s breadth away from touching. The tension between them was electric, almost unbearable. But just as Lucas was about to close the distance, Ethan pulled back, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Not yet,” Ethan said, his voice a low murmur.

Lucas blinked, confused and breathless, his body aching from the withdrawal of Ethan’s touch.

“When I take you,” Ethan continued, his voice dark with promise, “you’ll be ready.”

With that, Ethan turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Lucas standing there, trembling with frustration, desire, and the undeniable knowledge that he was in far deeper than he wanted to admit.

• To Be Continued...