Taming Mr. Black

Eleven

KILLIAN'S POV

"I'm sorry to say this, Mr. Black, but you don't always get to have whatever thing you want. And nothing's gonna make me want you, not even your sleek, sweet, dirty lines."

Damn.

Talk about a boner killer.

I don't know if she's lying or telling the truth, but I sure as hell feel like shit at her rejection. With my hands in my pockets, I stare at her, clearly and intently watching her. Wondering why she was so different. Wondering why she had to make me chase her, pursue her when sometimes she stares at me like she wants me to have my way with her. Like she wants me to fuck her brains out.

I don't have to talk dirty to women to have them in my bed and tangled up in my sheets, but everything with Naomi is different. I'm not blind, I noticed the way her breathing changed when I whispered filthy things in her ear. I noticed how her heartbeat accelerated when I wrapped my hand around her throat. Or how noticeable goosebumps crowd her skin with our close proximity.

So she's attracted to me but won't give in? Or she hates me and thinks I'm a fucking pervert. Whichever way it turns out to be, I know I am gonna have Naomi. It might take a long time and maybe an awful amount of effort, but she's gonna be mine. That I'm sure of.

"So, are you gonna properly treat me like a guest now? Or you're still gonna talk dirty to me?" She asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

I smirk, bringing my gaze to her breasts which are a little visible from the unbuttoned top buttons of my dress shirt that she's wearing. I can also see the slight red lace material of her bra through the white shirt.

"Wow. Should I be surprised you just rejected me the second time in less than three days?" I ask, turning my back and walking to my side of the kitchen island.

Naomi crosses her arms across her chest, ignorant about how her breasts pushed up the slightest.

"That's not rejection. I'm just trying to remind you that you're my boss." She says.

Right.

I pick up my slightly warm coffee and bring it to my lips to take a sip. My eyes wander over Naomi's body for a minute, smirking as she shifts uncomfortably from one foot to another. She's not that tall. Obviously 5 feet 5 inches tall. A lot of inches shorter than me. I can see the top of her head from where I sit. Her breasts are not the fullest or biggest, but it's an average size and they will fit perfectly in my hands. Her waist is little, and fuck, she's thick. With her broad hips that match her small waist and thick thighs. She's not the sexiest woman out there, but fuck it, this woman is beautiful. She's perfect. Her legs are toned and her hair, a honey wave.

She's everything I want. Maybe not the type of woman that I've been with before, but she's worth everything new that I want to try. Everything that my cock craves.

"Mr. Black," Naomi calls, no longer crossing her arms but holding her coffee.

"Yeah?"

"I asked what you were doing at Bart's?" She says and takes a sip from her coffee with her eyes on mine.

"Meeting an acquaintance."

"Should I be worried you're always everywhere I go?" She asks, blowing little air into her coffee.

I smile slightly, staring at her lips and imagining different dirty things her lips can possibly do. For example—

"Are you always this distracted?" Naomi's voice snaps me from my nasty thoughts.

"No. Only when it comes to you."

"Do you always stare at your female workers like that?" She asks, plopping her ass on the barstool opposite me.

I should be offended that she thinks I fuck everything on heels that works for me, but I don't. I just assume she's just curious about me. Curious to know me.

"Believe it or not, Naomi, you're the first woman who works for me that I want to do dirty things to. I don't fuck my employees. Especially not the ones who serve drinks in my club." I say. Her eyebrows touch each other as she stares at me.

I think she's offended by the way she slightly glares at me.

Fuck, what did I just say?

"Then, why do you find me interesting all of a sudden?" She seethes, crossing her arms across her chest again. "And please don't say 'because you're different.' That line is long overused."

I chuckle silently. "I was gonna say because you're something else. Something else that I haven't had a taste of. Before." I say softly, staring at her from underneath my lashes as my forefinger moves slowly on my laptop's mouse, scrolling through my emails.

I notice Naomi taking a deep breath.

"So, that's why you resort to stalking me?"

"Why would I stalk you? I mean you're a sexy little thing, but I won't stalk you to prove my point to you that I want you."

Naomi rolls her eyes, clearly not swooning over my words. "You were at Bart's last night. And earlier yesterday, we met at Baker's. That little diner."

"I knew the owner. Bart's, I mean. He wants me to invest in the club, so I decided to drop by and check it out. And about Baker's Diner, I own it. Bought it a week ago and I was looking forward to an expansion and redecoration, reasons why you saw me yesterday." I say.

Naomi's full red lips form an 'O'

"So don't think for a moment that I'm stalking you, princess."

"Right. My bad." She says and grabs her coffee and she begins to sip her coffee.

"There's no sugar in this." She frowns her face. "Who even drinks coffee without the sugar?" She asks and further scrunches her face, placing the coffee mug back on the kitchen island.

"I do."

"I'm your guest. You ask me how I take my coffee and not go right ahead and make your own preference for me." She sighs.

"There's sugar in the cupboard. Help yourself."

"Thank you." She hops down from the stool and walks towards the top cupboard. She stretches her hand to open it but she can't reach it.

I chuckle silently and round the counter to help her. I stand behind her and she tenses at once. We are a little close and her ass Is nearly touching my crotch.

"You can always ask for help, Ms. Alderson," I whisper into her ear as I open the cupboard and pull out a box of sugar.

She turns around to face me, with her teeth biting onto her bottom lip. I look down at her lips, feeling tempted to just lean in and have a taste of her lips.

"Don't even think about it." Naomi's voice snaps me from my thoughts as she takes the sugar from my hand.

She sidesteps me and walks back to sit down.

"How did you know my last name?" She asks, turning to look at me.

"Preston."

"Right." She mutters. “Why am I not surprised?”

There's a comfortable silence in the room and I watch her. My mind skip to last night at Bart's.

"Who was he?" I ask at once, thinking about the guy in the club from last night who kissed her.

Maybe I shouldn't have asked her. I shouldn't care, but I can't help myself. I like her and I think there's nothing wrong if I know a little about her. Right?

Right.

"What?" She looks up at me after dropping cubes of sugar inside her coffee. She stirs the liquid with a spoon, crushing the cubes of sugar with the spoon.

"At Bart's. This guy kissed you. Who was he?" I ask her, with my full attention on her and my laptop on the side. I've long stopped going through my work emails and I just stare at this fascinating and beautiful woman in front of me.

She bites her lip. A habit I've come to understand she does mainly when she doesn't want to talk about a particular issue.

"Is it normal that you're asking about my private life?" She asks instead, dodging my questions and asking me her questions instead.

Is that her defense mechanism? Avoiding my questions and asking me questions in return.

"I'm your boss, Naomi. It won't cut off my fingers if I know a little more about you. So, who was he?" I ask sternly this time, hating myself for sounding more like an asshole.

I don't know if this weird, strange, and new emotion is jealousy, but I can't stand another man touching her or even leaning in to kiss her for no damn reason. I should be the only man doing that. Naomi stares at me with her dark brown eyes as she sips her coffee. After gulping for a long minute and me watching her lips wrap around the rim of the mug, she drops the mug on the counter.

"He's no one."

"He kissed you."

"People kiss random people every day, but that doesn't mean they're anything special."

"You're being defensive, that means he played a very important role in your life. Is he your boyfriend?"

Naomi glares at me as she looks away, staring at the stainless white walls of my kitchen.

"He's my ex. Happy now?"

"He had his tongue down your throat. So obviously, he wasn't just your ex." Okay, now I am being a complete dick.

I shouldn't have sounded like that.

"Fuck." I run my fingers through my hair and lick my bottom lip.

"Forget I asked that," I mutter towards Naomi who's not looking at me.

"Of course, I will. Because it's weird." She says.

I smile, as a breathy laugh escapes my mouth.

"Preston said you're a born New Yorker."

"Talking about me with my manager now?" She asks, with an underlying teasing tone in her voice.

"Well, you're extraordinary. I couldn't help myself."

Naomi blushes as she avoids my gaze for the first time today. She's really strange, isn't she? One minute she's bold, raising her shoulders with me and questioning my orders. The other minute, she's a shy, pure girl, blushing at my words and avoiding eye contact.

Really strange.

"Yeah. I am from New York, but I wasn't born here. I was born in Baltimore, Maryland. Small City, with great people. We moved here, New York, when I turned ten."

"Why? Why did you move?" I can't believe I am having a normal conversation with her without the two of us arguing or me flirting with her.

She licks her bottom lip and stares at her fingers, avoiding the question like always.

"My daddy died." She says suddenly, after a long silence.

"He was a veteran. Went to war when I was eight, never came back. My kid sister was just born too. My mother couldn't stay any longer, she wanted us to come back home, to where we originally belonged. So that was how we moved." She says, meeting my eyes for a split second before looking away.

I bite my lip, staring at her and imagining how that would have been hard for her.

"That must be hard...for your mom."

"It was. For all of us." She says, slowly twirling around her mug I notice there's no coffee inside.

"Yeah. I know that feeling." I say, not really planning on talking about me or how my father fucked us over and left and then got murdered in a bar fight. It is embarrassing to talk about, especially, considering the man I've become now.

Thankfully, Naomi didn't question my word.

"And how did you find New York? I mean, since you were eight? Did you like it here when you first came? And Baltimore…" I ask her.

Naomi smiles. A genuine smile that is pretty contagious, even for me, because I am also smiling slightly as I stare at her.

"Truthfully, it was shit. New York is nothing like Baltimore. New York is loud, hard, and everyone just struggles so hard to get and live. The city is just crazy. I remember it was pretty hard to fit in at school. We didn't have a lot of friends, well, except my older brother. He was the popular one. Me, I was just this nerdy, awkward kid with glasses."

I can't say I'm not surprised, because I am. How can she be the awkward kid at school everyone didn't want to be friends with? She's so fucking sexy. Beautiful. She's literally irresistible.

"You wear glasses?"

She tucks her hair behind her ear, still biting her lip as she blushes a little.

"Yeah. Sometimes. Other times, I just opt for a lens." She says and shyly points to her eyes.

I smile, staring at her dark eyes.

"Are you wearing one now?" I ask softly, watching how she bites her lip.

Surprisingly, it was relaxing and beautiful to listen to her speak. I like it and I want her to speak more often without fighting or arguing with me.

"No." She says.

I nod.

"Your eyes are beautiful," I say softly, staring at her eyes.

"Thank you."

"I ordered food not too long ago. I hope you're hungry. Sebastian isn't around to cook today."

"Sebastian?" Naomi asks, probably wondering who the hell is Sebastian.

"Yeah. He's my cook. Today is his day off work." I say.

"Wow. I'm surprised you don't have a female cook." Naomi says. I chuckle.

"I had. She tried to fuck me, I fired her."

Naomi's eyebrows shoot up, and with a slightly open mouth as she stares at me. I smirk.

"Wow." She clears her throat. "So, where are you from?" Naomi surprises me by asking.

"I mean, according to Google and Wikipedia, it says you're Australian, but sometimes they just spew out shit online." She says, biting her bottom lip.

I smile, genuinely smiling as I stare into her eyes.

"Yeah. Wikipedia is right. I'm Australian. My mother is Swedish though. And before you ask, yes, I was born and raised in this country. New York, to be precise."

"No shit."

"Yeah. One of the reasons why my company's headquarters is in New York. I've always dreamed and wished that one day I'd just stand in front of my window while I watched my company's name in big letters from afar. I guess it finally happened. I love New York, and yeah, you're right, it's loud and crazy, but that's the thing that just makes it different from every other place in the world." I say.

And it's fucking sexy how she listens.

"Is that why you don't have an accent? An Australian accent. You sound like every other American guy." She says.

I chuckle.

"Probably because I didn't grow up there."

She smiles and nods, biting her lip. She's thinking.

"What are you thinking about?"

"About what your childhood looked like. And also about your dad."

Fuck. I don't want to talk about my childhood or my father. Especially to someone like Naomi. A woman I'm trying to impress. My childhood was shitty. My father was abusive. He would hit me and my brother, including our mother until we grew up and hit him back. God, I despised the son of a bitch. He's a cunt and I hated talking about him. Even in Interviews when I'm asked about my father, I don't say a thing. Telling the interviewers my personal life should remain personal.

"I don't want to talk about my childhood. Especially my father." I say.

Naomi nods in understanding.

"So, where did you go to college?" I ask, enjoying our little conversation.

"How did you know I went to college? I could simply be a high school dropout."

"Well, you're not. So…"

"You really asked about me from my manager. Wow." She says, smiling a little and biting her bottom lip.

I try not to think about what I want her lips to do. I've successfully had a normal conversation with this woman these past minutes and my mind was clean. It should stay that way, at least for now.

"I wanted to know you."

"Okay. I went to NYU. Graduated two years ago. I studied marketing."

"Why marketing?"

"I loved creativity. And good communication. Marketing just happens to be the best fit for a career. At least, for me."

I nod.

"I have to ask since you got rid of my dress, what am I gonna wear when I leave for home?" She asks.

And right on cue, Raymond walks in, holding a shopping bag with what I asked him to get early this morning. He doesn't notice Naomi yet.

"You asked me to get a size 10 dress. It was pretty hard, considering I don't have a girlfriend. I had to get help from the girl that works at the boutique." Raymond says, but stops on his track when he sees Naomi.

"Oh." Raymond blurts, staring at Naomi In my shirt as he looks over at me, raising a questioning eyebrow.

I know what he's thinking. That I brought Naomi home to fuck her when we've only known each other for not less than three days. I give Raymond a straight look and shake my head No.

If Naomi was uncomfortable about forty minutes ago, she sure as hell was more than uncomfortable now.

"Uh…" Naomi trails off, staring at the man and the bag in his hand.

"I'm Raymond. He is my friend and my boss." Raymond introduces himself, stretching his hand out for a handshake.

"Hi. I'm Naomi." They shake hands and pull hands apart later.

"Is this for her?" Raymond asks, raising the bag in the air.

I walk towards him and take it from him.

"Yeah," I answer, taking the bag and stretching it to Naomi.

She doesn't take it but stares at it, and then at me. She's confused.

"You needed something to wear back home, right?"

"I'm gonna be in the living room," Raymond says, with his footsteps receding out of the kitchen.

"You didn't have to buy me a dress." She states.

I sigh. "Rejecting a gift is rude, Naomi. I know you know that."

She sighs and slowly takes the bag from me.

"Thanks. But I'm returning it the moment I get home."

"It's a gift. I don't want it back. If you don't want it when you get home, burn it." I say sternly, thrusting my hands into my pockets.

My doorbell rings at once, sounding across the house. It's probably the food I ordered about forty minutes ago.

"I'll get it," Raymond calls.

"I should get going," Naomi says at once.

"I'm sure that's the breakfast that I ordered. You need to eat."

"I'm fine. I should leave. Thanks for bringing me here. And thanks for the dress." She says and leaves my kitchen in a hurry.

I hear my front door close and Raymond walks into the kitchen with two takeouts. He glances at the kitchen for Naomi as he opens his mouth to speak. I glare at him and he clamps his mouth shut. He knows not to question me when I'm in a bad mood. Naomi and I were having a nice conversation and all of a sudden, the tension is back. Now I'm wondering and asking myself where did I fuck up?

Raymond drops the takeout on the kitchen counter and turns to leave. A few minutes later, Naomi walks into the living room, saying a quiet bye to Raymond as she leaves my house in a hurry, not for a minute sparing me a glance.

Seriously. Are women always this complicated? One minute they're having a normal conversation with you, and the next minute, they're walking out of your house not for once staring at you. Now, where did I go wrong?