Bagging the Blueliner by Siena Trap

Rules were meant to be broken.
Hockey is my life. How could it not be when I’m the youngest daughter of Ace Moreau, hockey legend turned coach?
It only makes sense since I live and breathe the game that I would want a player of my own. Given my access to the team, you’d think it would be easy to choose from the catalog of athletic hunks carving up the ice, right?
Wrong.
Daddy dearest has made it clear that under no circumstances are any of his players allowed to touch his daughters.
But I won’t be deterred. I only need one to break the rules with me.
Cal Berg, the Comets’ star defenseman, is bossy, arrogant, and thinks I’m just riding my dad’s coattails. Verbally sparring with him, provoking a reaction, is what I live for. We HATE each other.
Or so I thought . . .
One drunken slip has me rethinking everything.
Suddenly, my objective has changed. I don’t want just any player; I’m fully focused on bagging the blueliner.