A Month Of Wild Games

005: Hot Texts

The silence in the car was thick with unspoken words. Cara could still feel Michael’s presence pressed against her, the remnants of their kiss lingering on her lips. Her pulse was erratic, racing with the mixture of desire and uncertainty that had been building inside her for what felt like a lifetime.

She tried to breathe steadily, but the air was too hot, too charged between them. She wasn’t sure where the game was heading, but the desire to see how far they could both go was gnawing at her insides.

The car door opened, and Michael stepped out first, his tall frame silhouetted against the streetlights. He moved with a predatory grace, and Cara couldn’t help but watch, her body still trembling from the kiss.

“Stay close,” he ordered without looking back. His voice was colder now, the playful teasing from earlier replaced with something darker. A part of her wanted to argue, but she knew better. She nodded, stepping out of the car, the cold night air hitting her skin, making her acutely aware of just how warm Michael’s touch had made her.

They walked in silence toward the entrance of the building. The Viper Lounge.

The place was as exclusive as it was notorious, and Cara knew it all too well. The memories of their past here were both intoxicating and painful—passion mixed with betrayal, love tangled in lies.

As they entered the lounge, the low hum of music greeted them, the flashing lights casting a seductive glow over the crowd. It was a place that held secrets, a place where anything could happen—and did.

Michael led her to a secluded booth in the corner. As they sat, a glass of scotch was placed in front of her, the ice clinking softly against the glass. Cara didn’t take a sip, instead watching Michael as he settled in, his eyes not leaving her for a moment.

“You wanted to talk, Michael. Here we are,” she said, her voice low, but steady. The words felt forced, the tension between them palpable.

Michael leaned forward, his gaze never wavering. “Do you remember the last time we were here?” he asked, his voice a dangerous whisper. “I do. It was the beginning of the end, wasn’t it?”

Cara swallowed, her throat dry despite the scotch in front of her. She had pushed those memories to the back of her mind, not wanting to face the truth of their past. But here it was, surfacing like a venomous snake, hissing its way into the present.

“Yes, I remember,” she replied quietly. The words burned on her tongue. The betrayal, the lies, the love that had once felt so pure now twisted and broken.

But the emotions swirling inside her were complicated, impossible to ignore. What had happened between them wasn’t just about heartbreak—it was about something much deeper, something that neither of them had fully understood until now.

The sound of Michael’s phone vibrating on the table broke through the silence. He glanced at it, then looked back up at her. His eyes darkened, and a small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of his lips.

“Excuse me,” he said, standing up. Cara watched as he walked a few feet away, his conversation muffled by the noise of the lounge. The curiosity that had been bubbling inside her started to rise again. Who was he talking to?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Without thinking, she pulled it out. It was another text, this time from an unknown number, and the message sent a shiver down her spine.

“I know what you’re doing. You’re walking right into the game. Are you ready to play? - Z”

Her heart skipped a beat. Z. The mystery man who had been pulling the strings from the shadows. Who was he? And how the hell did he know what was happening between her and Michael?

Before she could contemplate it any further, Michael returned to the table, his expression unreadable. His presence was overwhelming, his aura commanding. But there was something more in his eyes, something that spoke of unfinished business between them.

“So, Cara,” he began, his voice suddenly calm, but with a hint of something much darker lurking beneath the surface. “I think it’s time we settle the score.”

As Michael sat back down, his hand slid across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against hers. It was a touch that held power, a reminder of how close they were to crossing a line they might never be able to come back from.

Before she could respond, Michael’s phone buzzed again. He looked at the screen, his expression shifting. “Excuse me,” he said, his voice suddenly cold, “I have to take this.”

Cara watched him walk away once more, her mind racing. What was going on? Who was Z? And what exactly had she just walked into?

The danger was real, and it was coming for her faster than she could prepare.

Michael’s phone call stretched into an uncomfortable silence, leaving Cara alone with her thoughts—and the electric pulse of unspoken desire between them. She couldn’t help but feel like she was standing on the edge of something much bigger than she had ever anticipated. The more she thought about it, the more the sense of a trap closing in on her became undeniable.

Her fingers itched for her phone, but instead, she focused on the empty glass in front of her, tracing the rim absentmindedly. What was happening between her and Michael? She didn’t know. What did Z want from her? She had no clue, but her gut told her she was on the brink of something dangerous.

The sound of Michael’s voice, low and firm, sliced through the air as he returned to the table. His gaze, though still cool, held an intensity that was impossible to ignore. He was back—his presence wrapping around her like a dark, irresistible force.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he said, settling back into his seat. His eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, Cara’s breath hitched in her chest. He was waiting for an answer, his gaze daring her to lie.

“What question?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper, trying to keep the tension out of her words. But she was already feeling it—the pull, the gravity between them that made her skin flush and her body crave something more.

Michael’s lips curled into a half-smile. “About the last time we were here,” he said, his fingers tapping rhythmically against his glass. “What do you think of when you remember it?”

Cara stiffened. The memories came rushing back—the heat, the passion, the stolen moments that had once felt so real, so right. But the betrayal, the lies, the deceit… it all came crashing in on her.

“I think about how it all fell apart,” she replied, her voice tight. She didn’t want to go there, didn’t want to relive those moments of weakness, of trusting him when she shouldn’t have. But here they were, and the words were slipping out before she could stop them.

Michael’s gaze flickered, something akin to regret flashing across his face—but it was fleeting. In the next moment, his eyes were dark again, filled with something far more dangerous. “That’s not what I meant,” he said softly, leaning in, his voice lowering to a husky whisper. “I meant, what do you think of me now?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge, daring her to respond, daring her to admit the truth.

Cara’s heart was pounding, the heat rising in her cheeks. She couldn’t deny the magnetic pull that had always existed between them. She did want him—God help her, she wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything.

But she wasn’t the same woman who had walked away from him two years ago. She was stronger now. Wiser. And she would not let herself be dragged back into his world of chaos and lies.

“I think you’re the same man who tore everything apart,” she said, her words coming out sharp, but her voice betraying the vulnerability she was desperately trying to hide.

Michael’s smile never wavered, but his eyes darkened even further. “Is that so?” His hand reached across the table, his fingers grazing her wrist, sending a jolt of heat straight to her core.

She pulled her hand back, but not quickly enough to escape the tension crackling in the air between them. Michael leaned back, his smirk growing.

“Cara,” he said, his voice low, almost a growl. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you’re still the same woman I left behind. The same woman who needed me, and the same woman who still does.”

The words hit her like a slap to the face, and she felt a rush of anger and heat flood her chest. He couldn’t just claim her like that. Not after everything that had happened.

Before she could respond, her phone buzzed again, breaking the suffocating silence. This time, her hand trembled as she reached for it, but her breath caught in her throat when she saw the name flashing on the screen.

Z.

She opened the message quickly, her heart racing.

“I can see it in your eyes. You’re still thinking about him. You always were. But can you resist the temptation this time? Let’s see if you can play the game to win.”

Her heart stopped. He’s watching me.

Before she could even process the words, Michael’s voice snapped her back to the moment.

“Everything okay?” he asked, his tone casual, but the edge was there again, the challenge lurking beneath his words. He had seen the message. She knew it.

Cara didn’t look up from her phone. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice steady. But she wasn’t. She felt exposed, vulnerable—trapped.

“Z,” Michael said, his voice darkening, a dangerous edge creeping into it. “Who the hell is he?”

She didn’t answer, didn’t dare.

Michael’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he leaned forward again, his eyes blazing with intensity. “You’re in over your head, Cara. And you know it.”

And just like that, the game had changed.