Roulette
His whirlwind of a kiss might make her believe in soulmates . . . if the sexual tension doesn’t kill her first.
It’s no risk here – grab this book for crazy heat and drama today!
Of all the books I have read in her series, hands down this is my favorite.
-Goodreads Reviewer Lorraine K
“I can live dangerously,” Kyra said to herself.
It was close to midnight, and she was standing against the faux marble fence at the Bellagio. The final show of the night with the Star Spangled Banner had finished.
People walking by mostly ignored her. A few people checked twice, but it was Vegas, so she wasn’t that out of place. Not many Black women wore rhinestone Browns cheerleading uniforms with orange hair extensions, though.
As a huge Browns fan, she always picked Browns clothing for casual day at work and had six pairs of Browns scrubs. Three different supervisors had warned her about her orange eye shadow and hair. Fortunately, the nurse managers never minded putting them in their place. If boobs weren’t showing, it was still tasteful.
The cheerleading uniform did not count as tasteful. She was a solid 38 D and weighed about one thirty. It was having an unintended effect on a specific subset of men.
A fourth guy asked if she was trolling for clients. A sixth guy offered her money for stripping.
“No.” She wished she were good at the mythical ‘angry Black woman stare.’ Usually hers came off as a ‘short Black woman needing help opening pickle jar’ grimace.
More people passed by, and she wished she had a photo of 19BrownsBacker19. After messaging her all day that he was in town, he’d better arrive wearing a Browns clown costume.
It had been an eventful day as it was, and Kyra hadn’t told her friends about her private adventure. They had their hands full with Caroline, another teacher from Amy’s school. When Kyra left the club, the six-foot-tall and perpetually shy Caroline was swapping spit with her neighbor, Jamie, who was in town for a firefighter conference.
The copious application of alcohol made that possible. The same way that Kyra bent her rule and had a third drink at the Coyote Ugly bar before she made her escape.
A youngish White guy in dark-washed jeans and a white button-down dress shirt stopped in front of her. “Hi.”
Kyra waited for him to leave.
“Cheerleading uniform. Wow. This is not what I expected.” He had straight, dishwater blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and horn-rimmed glasses.
“Go away.”
“What?” He had the nerve to act confused.
“Go away. I’m not for sale, and I don’t strip. Please live out your loud Black woman fantasy elsewhere.” The other guys had at least tried small talk first before getting creepy.
“Loud Black woman fantasy?” His brow crinkled.
“I have mace and a rape whistle.” Kyra had stopped at the Tropicana gift shop and bought them after the small riot Monique caused at the Venetian this morning.
He stared at her in confusion. Kyra rolled her eyes. He was a few years younger than Kyra and didn’t have that bizarre, starved vibe of the other guys, but she guessed you could never tell. At least he was clean shaven and taller than he was wide in the five-ten range.
“I’m supposed to be here. I asked you to wear Browns clothes,” he said.
Now that made her snap her head around. “19BrownsBacker19?”
“KWBrown19?” he inquired.
She wasn’t going to leave with a random guy who knew her Twitter handle. “You aren’t in Browns clothing.”
“I didn’t say I was going to wear any,” he said.
Damn it, that was true. She’d assumed . . . “Very sneaky. However, it goes against your credibility. I’d like proof you are a legit Browns fan and I haven’t been catfished.”
“Ask me a Browns question. Anything.” He was at ease and not upset in the least.
“What is Red Right 88?”
“That was the interception thrown by Eric Sipe in the 1981 division playoff game against the Oakland Raiders. We lost 14-12. Too easy.”
“Fine, who was mayor of Cleveland during The Move?” Kyra asked.
“Michael White. He successfully sued the Modell’s to keep the Brown’s colors and name in Cleveland. These are softballs.”
“Who was the Browns’ worst quarter back ever? Can’t use anyone after 1999,” she said.
“It’s between Mike Phipps and David Mays.”
“I’d go with Mike Phipps for throwing four touchdowns and nineteen interceptions in one season. David Mays’s attempted murder trial was after he was a Brown. And he was acquitted.”
“But convicted for fraud,” the man said. “Do I pass?”
She twisted her mouth. “I guess so.”
“Great. I’m Ryan.” He shook her hand, and his cuff revealed a watch with a Browns football helmet in the center.
“You have the Invicta watch!” She grabbed his wrist. “I wanted one of these, but I didn’t want to spend three hundred bucks and find out it was too big for me.”
He took it off and handed it to her. “Try it on.”
She dropped her jaw. “You’re letting me… you don’t know my name yet.”
Ryan smiled. “You put tons of effort into this. I can’t match that.”
“I’m Kyra.”
“Now please, put the watch on. Otherwise, people will think I’m buying you.” He scanned the crowd passing by them.
“Oh, no.” She shoved the watch on her wrist.
“I’m kidding. Let me try this again.” He took her hand in his and kissed it. “Ryan Yates.”
Kyra suppressed the small thrill running under her skin. When he stood upright again, she admitted that he was kind of cute with tanned skin, light blue eyes, and freckles on his nose. She didn’t pull her hand back immediately. “Kyra Washington.”
“Charmed.” He offered her his arm. “Why don’t we go someplace public and chat for a while? There’s a twenty-four-hour restaurant, Hash House A Go, at the Linq. Up for a fried chicken and bacon waffle tower?”
“That’s a thing?” She laughed and placed her arm in his, keeping their bodies apart.
“It is. Might take us a few hours to eat. Should be enough time to dissect our pre-season game versus Detroit yesterday. You think Tyrod Taylor is going to beat out Baker Mayfield for the starting job?”
“It won’t be Brogan Roback,” she named the third string quarterback. “And we lost that linebacker on account of the federal charges.”
“This may take hours,” Ryan said.
Learn more!
His whirlwind of a kiss might make her believe in soulmates . . . if the sexual tension doesn’t kill her first.
Nurse Kyra Washington lives for order. In the busy neonatal ICU, order saves lives. The most chaos she ever tolerates is her football team’s perpetual losing record. Yet somehow she agreed to meet another superfan in Vegas . . .
Dr. Ryan Yates thrives on the adrenaline of the ER. He’s used to following his instincts for bold decisive decisions. From the second he meets Kyra, his ADHD brain tells to go all in because she’s his football-loving soulmate.
Can he convince her he’s the ONE before their sizzling attraction builds to a crescendo in a hospital supply closet?
WARNING: This sexy sports-fan Vegas romance should only be bought if you feel Grey’s Anatomy and Chicago Fire needed a doctor who thinks he’s your soulmate wandering around your house half-naked, refusing to kiss you until you admit he’s the one!
If you’re a steamy medical romance fan, you have got to try the MetroGen books by Carina Alyce. Not only is she a real doctor, people have compared her books to Brittany Sahin, Nicole Snow, K.C. Crowne, Lucy Score, Kaye Kennedy, Janie Crouch, and J. Saman. Think Grey’s Anatomy, Chicago Fire, and Outlander all written by a real doctor.
Her books regularly feature tropes of protector romance, romantic suspense, action adventure romance, BWWM, military romance, erotic romance, curvy girls, alpha male heroes, doctor romance, firefighter romance, police romance, and many many more.