When two people who thrive on taking charge collide—in and out of the bedroom—the results are explosive.
Me, manage the Vipers hockey team? Well, that’s my role now. Shame a gorgeous, cocky goaltender is testing my patience. Sweet cheeks—really, is that any way to refer to the boss? Dustin “Speed” Reed certainly seems to think so.
I escape to my billionaire father’s paradise retreat to regroup, but Dustin decides to come along for the ride. Then the tension really heats up, hotter than the scorching midday sun.
I want to slap him and kiss him. Push him away and rip off his clothes. The feeling is mutual—a potent cocktail of anger mixed with lust. I know we shouldn’t. It can’t end well, especially when I’m going give him the sack as soon as I push him out of it.
But what’s the fun in having rules if no one ever breaks them? I’ll take what I can, give him what he wants and worry about balancing the books tomorrow. Surely my heart will be fine.