ROMANCING MO RYAN

  ROMANCING MO RYAN

  (an interracial remake of Loose Lips)

  By

  MALLORY MONROE

  c2012 Austin Brook Publishing

  All rights reserved. Any use of the materials contained in this book without the expressed written consent of the author and/or her affiliates, including scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book by way of the Internet or any other means, is strictly prohibited.Original story idea and enhancements used with the full cooperation of Teresa McClain-Watson, Executive Editor and Contributor.

  AUSTIN BROOK PUBLISHING

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters are fictitious. Any similarities to anyone living or dead are completely accidental. The specific mention of known places or venues are not meant to be exact replicas of those places, but are purposely embellished or imagined for the story’s sake.

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  www.austinbrookpublishing.com

  for more information on all titles.

  MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

  FROM BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  MALLORY MONROE:

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND

  SERIES IN ORDER:

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND

  THE PRESIDENT’S GIRLFRIEND 2:

  HIS WOMEN AND HIS WIFE

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  A SCANDAL IS BORN

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  AFTER THE FALL

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  THE POWER OF LOVE

  THE MOB BOSS SERIES

  IN ORDER:

  ROMANCING THE MOB BOSS

  MOB BOSS 2:

  THE HEART OF THE MATTER

  MOB BOSS 3:

  LOVE AND RETRIBUTION

  ALSO:

  ROMANCING HER PROTECTOR

  ROMANCING THE BULLDOG

  IF YOU WANTED THE MOON

  AND

  MORE INTERRACIAL ROMANCE

  FROM

  BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  KATHERINE CACHITORIE:

  LOVING THE HEAD MAN

  SOME CAME DESPERATE:

  A LOVE SAGA

  WHEN WE GET MARRIED

  ADDITIONAL BESTSELLING

  INTERRACIAL ROMANCE:

  A SPECIAL RELATIONSHIP

  YVONNE THOMAS

  AND

  BACK TO HONOR:

  A REGGIE REYNOLDS

  ROMANTIC MYSTERY

  JT WATSON

  ALSO AFRICAN-AMERICAN

  ROMANTIC FICTION

  FROM

  AWARD-WINNING

  AND

  BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  TERESA MCCLAIN-WATSON:

  DINO AND NIKKI:

  AFTER REDEMPTION

  AND

  AFTER WHAT YOU DID

  COMING SOON FROM

  MALLORY MONROE:

  ROMANCING MO RYAN 2

  AND

  DUTCH AND GINA:

  BOOK SIX

  Visit

  www.austinbrookpublishing.com

  for updates

  and

  for more information

  on all titles.

  ONE

  Two Years Earlier

  It was the last night of the convention and Mo Ryan was restless. He had spent the entire week with Nikki Tarver, but so had all of the other lecturers. As a well-respected criminal court judge from Florida, Mo had been invited to the Cleveland convention to lecture brand new journalists on the limits of their First Amendment protections. Nikki, as a brand new local journalist with one year under her belt, was invited to speak from her own experience about the mistakes young journalists often made, and how to avoid getting ensnared in those mistakes. And Mo and Nikki and all of the other invited lecturers had done everything, from eating to sightseeing to just sitting around and talking, as a group.

  Mo would often sit back and watch Nikki. At twenty-three, she was by far the youngest in the group, and was the only African-American. He put her height at about five-six or so, a good four inches shy of his six feet, and although she was small of frame, Mo couldn’t help but notice how well-endowed she was, and how the young lady had some very nice curves.

  But it was her face that fascinated him. She had a small, narrow face, with eyes so big and golden-brown that they were one stretch away from being pop eyes, and with natural eyelashes so long and flowing that they almost looked unnatural. And whenever she would look down and then suddenly look back up, and directly at Mo, his chest would squeeze. It wasn’t the beauty of those eyes that stunned him, but the innocence in those eyes, and the vulnerability he saw. With her eyes and her high cheekbones and her African lips and nose, she often gave off an air of arrogance, of somebody who thought she was above it all. But Mo saw beneath the veneer. He saw something deep within those eyes. And sometimes, while he watched her, he would wonder if this strong, together, always serious black woman, wasn’t just a little terrified.

  And her skin. He was taken by the radiance of her skin. She had a mocha-brown complexion that seemed smooth as honey from where he sat. He often found himself wishing he could reach out and touch the side of her face, or, when she would wear an off-the-shoulder blouse, he wished he could rub that bare brown shoulder with his white hand, just to feel the texture, the richness, the smoothness.

  But it was her individualism that was her biggest draw for Mo, although that face and figure of hers were close seconds. She would never go along to get along, and she never seemed interested in going out of her way to please anybody. Mo loved this about her. If a joke wasn’t funny, she didn’t laugh. If a fellow lecturer didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, she called him out on it. Although most of the band of lecturers tolerated Nikki’s presence in their group, they didn’t like her, with many of them viewing her lack of group-think as a liability, rather than an asset.

  But Mo viewed her as a breath of fresh air. Here was a woman, he thought, who didn’t give a damn how other people felt about her, and even if she had to stand alone she was going to stand for what she believed in. All week he had watched her, and disagreed with her, and admired her.

  But tonight, on the last night of the convention, he wanted her in his bed.

  She had agreed to meet up with him for cocktails in the hotel’s lounge. He knew the up-side of his need to be with her was minimal. Nikki had already rebuffed out of hand all of the other men in their group who had tried to hit on her. And early on he was determined to not so much as hint at his interest. He didn’t want to look like some thirty-nine year old fool trying to get in the skirt of some pretty young thang. But there was no way he could go back to Florida, and allow her to go back to her life as a journalist in Ohio, without his cock taking a long, hard ride deep inside of that pussy.

  Nikki, too, had considered taking that ride. From the first day they met to the last night of the convention, she had found him a compelling man. Although he wasn’t one of those lecturers who ran his mouth nonstop, or attempted to show off his obvious breath of knowledge in that nauseating way many of the others often did, there was a quiet strength about him that was almost dangerous. Sometimes when the others would look to him as their leader and wouldn’t make a move unless he thought it was the right course to take, and he would be speaking on the matter, Nikki would look into his stark blue eyes and would be afraid of him. And it wasn’t as if she felt that he would beat on her or slap her around or do anything to harm her physically. But she felt that if she latched her wagon to him in any way, shape, or form, she would be in for one of those I love him too much/he’s my world kind of beatings; the kind that would leave no outward bruising, but that could emotionally cripple her.

  And that was why she kept her distance from Mo Ryan.

  Until, the last night of the convention, when he asked
her out for drinks at his hotel lounge.

  And, during those drinks, he asked her to go upstairs to his hotel suite.

  She leaned back from her glass of Sherry and looked at him. He was a tall, powerfully built criminal court judge, but he was nothing like any judge she’d ever been in contact with. He wasn’t ancient for one thing, although she was certain he was far older than her twenty-three years. And even with those tailored suits he always wore, and that no-nonsense professionalism he always projected, it was clear that he was a physical specimen to behold: all biceps, ribbed abs, muscle-tight thighs. His face was just slightly tanned, his chestnut brown hair was always just slightly ruffled, and he always had a very slight hint of a five-o-clock shadow, as if he wasn’t as neatly wrapped as he pretended to be. There was an edge to Mo Ryan. And Nikki saw it.

  She also saw that gorgeously masculine sensuality that had many of those hot-blooded females at the convention using all kinds of tricks to get his attention. Nikki didn’t even try, not when the entire reason for her interest would be based on something as superficial as his good looks, but she got his attention anyway.

  “Why?” she finally asked him, those sincere eyes of hers looking deep into his.

  Although Mo smiled, it came off to Nikki as more of a wince. “Why?” he asked. “Why what?”

  “Why do you want me to come upstairs with you?”

  Mo’s smile didn’t leave, but his demeanor became more contemplative. His every instinct was to give her a bullshit answer, like wanting to have a nightcap with her or wanting to show her some book he’d been reading or wanting her to enjoy the breathtaking view of the Cleveland skyline from his well-positioned suite.

  But he couldn’t go there with Nikki. During the time he’d spent around her he’d already worked out that she had a deep-seated disdain for seduction games and emotional phoniness, almost to a point of hatred, and any attempt to sugarcoat his true intentions would be met derisively by her. But he also knew he had to tread carefully. He didn’t want to blow it, either.

  He leaned forward, looked her dead in those enchantingly big, brown eyes of hers. “I want to spend some private time with you,” he said.

  “No, you don’t,” Nikki replied easily, a smile enveloping her face. “You want to fuck me.”

  Mo sat back in his chair. He didn’t quite know how to take Nikki’s bluntness. At first he was a little alarmed, maybe even upset that this young woman he viewed as everything virtuous would speak so raunchily. For a hot second he even felt possessiveness toward Nikki, as if it was his woman speaking that way and he didn’t like it.

  But then he was pleased. Very pleased. Because he knew she was only being honest. She said she didn’t like games and obfuscation, and she practiced what she preached.

  He smiled. And then nodded. “That too,” he admitted.

  “Then why didn’t you just say that?” Nikki asked him as if it were a plea, her brows knitted, a puzzled look on her face. She was not smiling. Matters of the heart, where this man wanted her to entrust him with her body, was nothing to smile about to her.

  “You’re right,” he replied. “I should have made my intentions clearer. What I meant to say,” he said as he reached across the small table and placed her hand in his, lowering his voice, “is that I want you, Nikki Tarver, in a very private place with me. So that we can relax. So that you can get naked, and get into my bed, and allow me to make passionate love to you, to screw your brains out, to fuck the shit out of you until you can barely walk. And I want to do all of that to you, and more, all night long.”

  Nikki’s entire body blushed in a hot blaze of sensual delight. She could already feel his rod gliding into her. She could already imagine his hands all over her. But she was a practical girl, too. Feelings could only take you so far. She needed to know what his intentions for her were. For her, not just for her body.

  That was why, instead of going with her feelings alone, she continued to stare into his baby blue eyes. She looked, in fact, from one eye to the other eye as if she could find the answer just by searching for it.

  “Now that you know my true intentions,” he said, his thumb rubbing lightly across her knuckles, “will you finish your drink and go upstairs with me for the ride of your life tonight, sweetheart?”

  “What happens after tonight?” she asked him. “What happens tomorrow?”

  Her question stumped him. He’d never been asked about the day after, not ever. “What do you mean?”

  “Should I expect this sexual ride to lead to something, or to lead to nothing at all?”

  Mo stared at her. His year had begun with the death of his wife. They’d been married for nearly ten years when she died, and although it was a marriage made more in hell than heaven, and was marred with problems almost from the outset, her death had been, and still was in many ways, a very traumatic experience for Mo. The idea of getting emotionally attached to another woman just four months later was something he knew he couldn’t do right now. Nikki gave him a wonderful spark of life he hadn’t experienced in years, a feeling of being alive again, but there was no way, no way at all, he could commit even to her right now.

  He hated to say it, because a part of him wanted her, perhaps needed her, but he knew he had to keep it honest. “Probably nothing at all,” he finally replied.

  Nikki felt a twinge of sadness, because she really liked this one. At first it was all business with her. But the more time she spent with him, the more she began to see that side of him that had so many of her female colleagues vying for his attention. From his thick, chestnut brown hair that dropped across his forehead in a gorgeously messy flutter, to his baby blue eyes, he spewed sexual energy like a fire spewed flames. It was all over him. From the way he walked and talked to his simplest of mannerisms. And he didn’t have to work at it, either. It was ingrained in him. Perhaps as much as wariness of men was ingrained in Nikki.

  But of all the men that had tried to get her in bed, she liked Mo Ryan. There was something genuine about him. Something real. She even had to admit that there was a small part of her that would have loved to get to know him better. But she had zero interest in a one-sided affair, or of being with somebody who made it clear, as he just had, that there was no future together for the two of them.

  But he was honest about it. That went a long way with her. And, besides, she was no girl scout. She wanted that rod inside of her almost as badly as he wanted to put it there.

  “Yes,” she said after a long pause of reflection. “I’ll allow you to have your way with me.”

  Mo, at first, didn’t know what to make of that response. And then he laughed heartily at her reply, and squeezed her small, warm hand.

  Less than an hour later they were in his bed and he was lifting her soft body on top of his muscular, solid frame. And they just lay there. He wrapped his finger around the loose strands of her long, silky hair and could not take his eyes off of her. Those expressive, ginger-brown eyes of hers that drew her to him in the first place still looked apprehensive, but he saw her eagerness, too, and her growing anticipation. She had never seen him out of a suit and tie before, let alone naked like this, and he wanted to take it slow. He wanted to give her ample time to feel every contour of his body; to experience the feel of being enclosed in his big, protective arms; to fully embrace their decision to take their acquaintanceship to the next level.

  “I can stop now if you need me to,” he said to her as his hand began to slowly massage her soft, bare ass.

  “I know,” she replied. “But I don’t need you to.”

  He closed his eyes, pleased by her response, and allowed her head to rest on his chest. This had been one of the best weeks he’d experienced in a long time. He arrived at the convention in Cleveland, as he did every year, expecting to do nothing more than lecture brand new journalists and then head back to his hectic existence in south Florida. Until Nikki came along.

  Now she was on top of him, naked in his arms, and he was drinking up her swee
t, fresh perfume scent, the softness of her curvaceous body, the feel of her tight brown ass rubbing against his strong, hard hands.

  But as he felt the fullness of her body on top of his, he began to develop the kind of hard-on he knew would have to be attended to sooner rather than later. He wanted to take it very slow, but there was no accounting for nature.

  She lifted her face up to his. When she smiled that gorgeous white smile of hers, it melted his heart. She always looked so innocent to him, so vulnerable despite her obvious independence, and the idea of her being out in this world, without his protection, disturbed him.

  But what could he do about it? She was young and brave and could have any young man she wanted, certainly one that didn’t come with all of his baggage, and he wasn’t about to inject himself into what was now her magnificently carefree life.

  “How do you feel?” he asked her.

  She thought about this. That was Nikki, Mo had come to realize. Even the most rudimentary questions were answered honestly. “Momentary,” she replied.

  Mo paused, stared into her eyes. “Because of what I said about tomorrow?”

  “Because of what it is. What this is. It’s momentary. But I want to enjoy the moment.”

  Mo smiled. She was always thoughtful, sometimes in ways that concerned him, but she always came down on the right side in the end. He placed his hand on the side of her face. He looked at that gorgeous face, at the smoothness of her mocha-brown skin, at her luscious, African lips, and he kissed those lips for the very first time.