A Month Of Wild Games

006: F Mate*

Cara’s heart was still racing when she finally left The Viper Lounge. The sultry atmosphere, the heat of Michael’s touch, and the undercurrent of danger that had followed her through every moment were enough to make her head spin. It was as if she was trapped in a whirlwind, each gust pulling her deeper into a storm of desire and temptation.

She gripped the steering wheel, her fingers digging into the leather as she tried to steady her breathing. Her mind was a tangled mess, her thoughts crashing into one another like a chaotic tide. Z’s message still lingered, and Michael’s presence—a silent, domineering force—burned into her skin.

But there was something else now. A new ache. A need. The kind of hunger she couldn’t ignore.

Her body was on fire, every inch of her skin sensitized, aware. She needed something, but what exactly? She could feel the pull of the unknown, the promise of something wild and unrestrained, something that didn’t have rules. She knew what it was, but admitting it scared her.

Her phone buzzed again.

Z.

“Are you alone, Cara? I bet you are. What’s Michael doing right now? I’m betting he’s not the only one you’re thinking about…”

Her fingers hovered over the screen, pulse quickening. She couldn’t deny the truth of his words. Michael was on her mind, but Z’s words—his presence, the challenge, the unknown—seeped into her thoughts like poison, pulling her in a different direction. What was Z playing at? What game was he drawing her into?

She quickly typed back, her fingers trembling.

“What do you want from me?”

The reply came within seconds.

“I want to see if you’ll bite, Cara. I want to see how far you’ll go.”

Her lips parted, her breath catching. She could feel the tension between her thighs, the throbbing ache deep inside her that had been building ever since she left the lounge. She was playing a game with fire—and it felt f*****g good.

Before she could respond, she felt her phone buzz again. This time, it was a message from Michael.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

Cara frowned, irritation seeping in. She’d barely had time to process his earlier words, and now here he was again, trying to mess with her mind.

“And?” she typed back, frustration building.

His message came quickly.

“We need to finish what we started. This game isn’t over yet, Cara. Not by a long shot.”

Her grip tightened on the wheel. She was no longer in control of her emotions, her desires. Her body was betraying her, aching for something she couldn’t have, and she was terrified of what that something was. She couldn’t afford to let herself get tangled up in his web again—she’d fought too hard to break free the first time.

But Michael wasn’t giving up. His message was clear: he was coming for her. And he always got what he wanted.

She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. Was it revenge? Was it lust? Or was it something else entirely—something darker, more dangerous?

Suddenly, she didn’t care. The road stretched out in front of her, endless and beckoning, like the seductive path she was being dragged down. The only thing she knew was that she needed to feel alive again.

Her phone buzzed again, and this time, her breath caught in her throat when she saw the message.

“Don’t think you’re the only one who knows how to play, Cara. Meet me tomorrow. We’ll see who can play the game better.” —Michael

Her mind raced. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling—a small, devilish smile that hinted at the dangerous game she was now fully committed to.

Tomorrow. She had no idea what Michael was planning, but she knew one thing for sure: she wasn’t backing down. Not now, not ever.

She glanced at the rearview mirror and caught a glimpse of her own reflection, her expression hardened. This was a game she was going to win.

And as she pulled into her driveway, the overwhelming realization hit her: she was no longer playing for control. She was playing for something far more dangerous—and it was about to consume her completely.

As she stepped out of the car, her phone buzzed again. But this time, it wasn’t a message. It was a call. A number she didn’t recognize.

Her pulse spiked as she answered, heart hammering in her chest.

“Cara,” a smooth voice said from the other end. “It’s Z. I told you I’d be watching.”

And just like that, she realized: this was no longer just a game. It was a war. And she was the prize.

Cara’s mind was spinning as she ended the call with Z. His voice—low, commanding, laced with a dark amusement—still reverberated in her ears. There was something intoxicating about it, something that made her skin burn. He knew how to play, just like Michael did. But he was different. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but there was a distinct edge to him. Something far more dangerous than she was used to. And it thrilled her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her front door opening. She froze, her body going rigid. Michael. It had to be him. The moment the thought crossed her mind, she pushed it away. No. He wouldn’t just show up uninvited. Still, her pulse quickened.

She looked around her living room, feeling the weight of every piece of furniture, every shadow in the corner of the room, as if something were waiting to pounce on her.

The sound of footsteps outside her door jolted her from her thoughts. Cara’s breath hitched. She moved swiftly to the window, peering out into the dark night. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw a figure standing just outside, facing her apartment. He didn’t make a sound, but she knew it was him.

Michael.

For a moment, she just stood there, motionless. This was it. She had a choice to make—open the door and let him in, or leave him out there and let this game continue.

The temptation to open that door and face him was almost overwhelming. She could already imagine his eyes on hers, dark and intense. The power he exuded. The control he had always wielded over her, even when he didn’t say a word.

But then the thought of Z came crashing into her mind. His teasing, his provocations. His game. The thought of him made her feel alive in a way Michael never had.

Cara shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She couldn’t let herself get distracted. Not now. Not when she was so close to finding out just how deep this rabbit hole went.

She took a step back from the window, eyes narrowing as she debated her next move. Her phone buzzed again.

This time, it wasn’t Michael or Z.

It was a new message from an unknown number.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Cara. But you will soon. Things aren’t always what they seem. Watch your back.”

A chill ran down her spine as she read the message. She didn’t recognize the number, but she knew this wasn’t just another random message. Whoever this was, they knew what was happening—they were watching her.

Suddenly, the sound of a knock at the door broke the silence. It was soft at first, but loud enough to make her jump.

She froze, her heart racing. No more hiding. No more pretending she was in control. She had to face this, whatever it was. Whoever it was.

Without thinking, she opened the door.

And there he was.

Michael.

His tall frame filled the doorway, his gaze locked onto hers with a force that made her stomach flip. He wasn’t smiling, but there was something almost predatory in the way he stood, his presence commanding the space between them. His eyes darkened as he took in her appearance, and Cara couldn’t suppress the wave of desire that surged through her.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them was thick, charged with the weight of everything they had shared—and everything they had lost.

“You came,” Michael said, his voice low, rough with something like anticipation.

Cara met his gaze, her breath shallow. “Of course I came. You didn’t give me a choice.”

He took a step forward, closing the gap between them. “I didn’t think you’d need one. After all, you always did like a good challenge.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Cara’s lips, but she quickly wiped it away, her expression hardening. “You think you can just show up here, after all this time, and get what you want?”

Michael’s lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile. He reached out, cupping her chin with his fingers, tilting her head up so she had no choice but to look into his eyes. “I think you’re already giving me what I want. You’ve been wanting this just as much as I have.”

She swallowed hard, feeling the heat of his touch seeping into her skin, making her pulse spike. The urge to step back was there, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. Not when the tension between them had never felt more real, more electric.

Michael’s thumb traced the curve of her jaw, and Cara closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself.

“Tell me, Cara,” he murmured, his voice dropping even lower. “What’s it going to take to make you mine again?”

Her breath hitched at his words. It was the question that had haunted her for so long.

“I don’t belong to you anymore,” she managed to say, though the words felt hollow even as they left her lips.

Michael’s eyes flashed with something dark. “You never did, Cara. You were always mine, whether you liked it or not.”

Before she could respond, his lips were on hers, hard and demanding. She tried to resist, but the moment his mouth crushed against hers, all sense of control slipped from her fingers. She couldn’t fight it. Not when he kissed her like this. Not when she could feel the hunger in every touch, in every pull of his hands, as he dragged her closer.

Her body betrayed her as she responded to him, her hands finding their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as the kiss deepened, the heat between them intensifying. It was a desperate, urgent kiss—one that spoke of years of pent-up desire and unresolved tension. And it was reckless, in the best possible