You should have known better than to play games with Rafe Cameron.

It started as just fun. No strings, no attachments—just teasing glances across rooms, his hands slipping under your dress when no one was looking, and whispered promises he had no business making.

You weren’t the type to settle down. You liked being wild, unpredictable. And Rafe? He was a walking disaster in a designer shirt. The worst kind of temptation.

But something about him made you want to push every limit.

You liked watching him lose control, liked the way his jaw tensed when you teased him, liked how he couldn’t stand the idea of anyone else even looking at you.

So, naturally, you liked pushing him even further.

One night, tangled up in his sheets, you smirked against his lips and said it:

“What if I let you make me Juno?”

The way Rafe’s eyes darkened? The way his grip tightened? You knew you just started something you couldn’t stop.

Because Rafe Cameron was possessive on a normal day. But now?

Now he was on a mission.

“You think you can just say shit like that?” he growled, pinning you down like he was proving a point.

And honestly? Maybe he was.

Because suddenly, the game wasn’t just about the chase anymore. Now, it was about keeping you.

And the most dangerous part?

You weren’t sure you even wanted to run.

Because one of you was fun… but two?

Maybe you’d be unstoppable.