★
C L A I R E
"Do I look good?" I run my hands along the length of my hair, looking myself up in the rearview mirror of the car.
Choosing a perfect dress usually comes easy to me but tonight, I feel more cautious about my appearance. After spending an hour in front of the wardrobe, I ended up picking a royal blue, off-shoulder cocktail dress with a side slit reaching above my knee.
"You always look good, Claire. Stop worrying," Vaughn says, interlacing our fingers together, making me look at our joined hands.
Unlike me, it took him only a few minutes to get ready, and yet, I admire the way he is dressed in a black suit that was tailored just for his body. He is wearing a crisp white shirt underneath with a black tie. His biceps are hard underneath the sleeves and I have the urge to run my hands over them. His hair is neatly gelled, spiked a little on the front, and his cheeks are covered by light stubble.
"But you said they were important clients." Vaughn squeezes my hand as I speak. "What if I make a bad impression? I'm not good at business dinners."
His brows dip to a frown and he leans in as our driver takes a right turn on 2nd Street. Vaughn tugs at our connected hands and pulls me close, such that his breath is fanning my lips when he speaks.
"It's not a business meeting if you don't want it to be, wife," he hums, pressing his lips over my forehead in an intimate gesture. "And did I tell you how ravishing you look right now? I'm having a hard time adjusting my cock."
I raise an eyebrow as he gives me a wink. When Vaughn said that he was taking me with him to dinner with his new clients, I was nervous like hell. When I asked him what I should wear, he ended up with a 'no clue' look which made me even more nervous. Although I picked this sexy dress that shows a lot of skin without being slutty, I am still at the edge of my seat. Fashion means everything to me and getting something wrong about it sounds embarrassing.
"You sure I don't look too welcoming?" I ask him, concerned as we near our destination at the hotel the Russo brothers invited Vaughn to talk over their deal. It is one of their own.
"If I'm having trouble keeping my hands off you, you look exactly the perfect amount of welcoming."
He grins from ear to ear and my hands automatically reach up to touch his cheeks as I lean in and press our lips softly together, just a light brush to not ruin my lipstick. He lets me willingly, holding me softly by my waist.
If nothing else, the kiss does end up calming my nerves a little.
***
"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Jackson," A middle-aged man dressed in an expensive suit greets Vaughn when the waiter guides us to their table.
It is a round table at the very back of the restaurant of the hotel where the Russo brothers are staying. It is covered by curtains for privacy and a band at the stage is playing the softest music to provide for a gentle atmosphere. There is already wine and starters spread over the table, all covered and looking untouched.
Beside the older man, a younger one stands with a polite smile on his face. Both the men are dressed in expensive clothes, all black. The Russo brothers are similar in the way they look with strong faces, not very handsome but still attractive, and they both stand at a height taller than even Vaughn's. They look more like wrestlers with their burly appearances. I look around and find that we are the only ones at the table and I am the only woman. The realization ends up making me even more cautious.
"It's my pleasure." Vaughn shakes the hand extended to him with a promising grip.
"I'm Mattia and this is my brother Lorenzo," the older of the brothers says to Vaughn.
Lorenzo steps forward at his brother's words and shakes Vaughn's hand, then looks at me, something which his brother didn't even care to do.
"Mr. Russo, meet my wife — Claire Jackson," Vaughn introduces me and I give an awkward smile to the brothers.
"Ah, yes, Mrs. Claire Jackson," Mattia says. "Heard a lot about you in the papers a week ago. It's not every day a woman marries someone her father loathes. You're a brave one."
I feel Vaughn tense beside me as the words leave Mattia's mouth. I look at the older brother as he ignores greeting me properly and takes his seat, signaling Vaughn to sit too. Lorenzo gives me an apologetic look, on behalf of his brother, before taking his seat at Mattia's side.
I suddenly feel uncomfortable being among these men and I squeeze Vaughn's arm as the first signs of anxiety tug at my chest.
"Ignore them," Vaughn whispers to me softly as he pulls a chair out from the table for me to sit.
I nod slowly, curving my lips weakly to a smile as I take a seat and he sits beside me, close enough to touch me.
"So, Mr. Jackson, how are the plans for our new office coming up?" Mattia directs to Vaughn, putting his elbows over the table. "My brother tells me the work hasn't started yet."
"We're currently looking to import specific supplies," Vaughn says in a business-like tone. "I have been rather busy lately but my assistant is working hard to keep track of the shipments. As for the building plans, I already mailed them to your brother. I hope you had a look."
"We did Mr. Jackson," Mattia comments, pouring wine for all of us and taking a sip of his glass, as his eyes drift towards me for a split second when I cross one leg over the other, shifting on the seat. "I have to say, you're good at what you do. My brother tried to contact you a number of times though but your assistant is always the one to pick up the calls."
"Apologies, but as you can see, I just got married." Vaughn looks at me, giving a soft smile as he puts his hand on my exposed knee, pressing hard. "We were on our honeymoon."
A honeymoon that lasted for half of a day because I gave him a bloody nose — not something you tell other people.
Mattia chuckles. "I hope you had a good one. Mrs. Jackson seems quite inexperienced for such things."
"Excuse me?" I interrupt immediately, his words rubbing me the wrong way.
"Don't mind me, Mrs. Jackson. I'm sure you're an adult but you kind of seem out of place for this meeting." Lorenzo glares at his brother as if shocked by his words. "I'm sure Michael Hill would agree when I say that. You're still studying after all."
I feel Vaughn's hold on my knee grow tighter and hear him grinding his teeth from the corner of my eye while he looks unfazed at Mattia.
"Mr. Russo," I chuckle, hiding the edge in my voice. "If you don't mind me saying either — you have a pretty abrasive tongue. I don't think that's the appropriate way to talk to a woman unless you want her to throw a shoe at you."
Vaughn's grip on my knee loosens and I feel his body shakes as he bites back a laugh while Mattia just stares at me, taking in my words.
"You have a smart mouth, Mrs. Jackson." Mattia gulps the rest of his wine in one go, slamming the glass on the table and clasping his hands underneath his chin. "If you were mine or my brother's, we would have taken care of that mouth with a good spank—"
A loud thump on the table makes us jump before Mattia can complete his sentence.
"Enough!" Vaughn roars, his eyes red with anger. "That's my wife you're talking to, Mr. Russo and I would like you to apologize right fucking now."
Mattia looks between me and Vaughn before throwing a glance at his brother as he nods thoughtfully and then his lips curve to a grin.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Jackson, do forgive me," he snickers, then looks at me. "Apologies to you too, Mrs. Jackson. I can see why you got married in such a hurry. I had no idea your husband was this whipped."
My last remaining bit of patience evaporates and I get up from my seat, grab my purse and striding out of the curtained corner. Vaughn tries to grab my hand as I get up but fails. I rush out, the insults Mattia threw at us echoing in my head.
I have no tolerance for men like Mattia. I have had enough of that with my Dad. These misogynistic men see women as nothing but a toy for their use. I should have never agreed to come here with Vaughn. I have never been a sensitive person. I always try my best to keep a cool head even during the most difficult times but since the last few weeks, it's like everywhere I go, someone finds a new name for me.
As much as it hurt, I heard the truth behind Mattia's words and maybe that's why they pricked so much. I did make a joke out of Vaughn and he fell into this mess with me without a second's thought. He doesn't deserve to be made fun of, not because of me or my Dad. He had no hand in this game.
All he asked of me was to keep the Jackson name clean of scandals, even though marrying me was probably the biggest scandal of his life — a little short of the time Dad published that article four years ago in a local newspaper about The Jacksons' internal family battles which led to the psychopathic tendencies in a boy who killed his son while hooked on alcohol. That one article ruined the Jacksons to the point where Victor Jackson died after getting a stroke when he read it. While we were showered with sympathies, Vaughn was judged for just being a rash driver at the age of twenty-two — a time of youth when people are meant to make mistakes.
Vaughn was right — his family was shattered.
I walk briskly until I find the doors which lead to the back of the hotel and step out to be met by the chilly night air of LA. My heart feels so hollow that I have to drag my footsteps as I climb down the stairs and walk up to the pool where the weather is chillier. I see people, some seated and a few running around with little kids.
"Claire, wait..." Footsteps follow behind me and I turn to find Vaughn running towards me. He looks worried as he stops near me. "Why are you crying?" he asks, taking his suit off him and putting it around my shoulders.
"I'm...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to run away like that," I sniff, rubbing a finger under my nose as we stand under the night sky.
"No, you shouldn't be sorry for what that bastard did there." He touches my arm, stepping forward and narrowing the distance between us. "They are a bunch of assholes. If I had met them before, I wouldn't have invited you to join us."
"Why did you?" I ask, tilting my head up to find his eyes. He looks genuinely hurt and it makes me feel embarrassed for causing a scene.
"I don't know," he confesses. "I just wanted you to feel like a part of my life. You're my wife, Claire. I wanted you to see what it was like to be me. I wanted to make you feel welcome in my life."
A tear escapes my eyes at his words and he quickly rubs it with his thumb, lightly touching my cheek.
"I'm sorry," I say. "It's all my fault. I came up with this stupid plan to escape one wedding and now, I've made a mockery of both of us. Dad never allowed me to be a part of his life. You were right, I'm a spoiled brat who has no idea how real life works."
"No, Claire—"
"No, please, Vaughn." I press a hand to his chest as more tears trickle down my eyes. "I made us both fools in the eyes of others and didn't even care to think about what it would do to your reputation. I'm really sorry."
He stays quiet for a while and then pulls me closer to him, slowly, until his body cuts the chilly wind nipping my skin as his arms wrap around me, hugging me to his chest.
"Please don't cry, Claire," he murmurs, holding me tightly. "I hate seeing you cry."
I grab fistfuls of his shirt, sobbing hard as I wet it with my tears. "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry."
He keeps his hold on me firm, swaying me slowly through the rest of my sobs, and only lets go when I go silent. We stand there awkwardly, looking at each other with his hands still around me, keeping me near him.
"You know what?" he starts suddenly, looking at the doors of the hotel. "We should ditch them."
I part my lips in surprise, grabbing hold of his forearms as he pulls me against his chest. "What? But won't that be bad for you? You said they were important clients."
"They are." His hands move to my waist and his fingers draw small circles over my hips through the silky material of my dress. "But nothing's more important to me than you."
My cheeks warm up when he says it without tearing his eyes off me.
"Really? But where will we go?"
"Anywhere you want to, baby," he whispers, leaning down and brushing our lips together. His slightest touch is enough to make me give in and I groan at his feathery kisses upon my bare skin as he showers them all over my throat. "Somewhere far away where no one can see us when I rip that dress off you and make you come on my tongue."
Desire burns in the pit of my stomach as he bites the crook of my neck, before brushing his tongue over the spot and sucking hard.
"I love it when you talk dirty, Vaughn," I chuckle softly, yelping a little when he grabs my ass and squeezes. There are few people surrounding us but I doubt anyone sees it because his large suit covers half of my body from view.
"Dirty?" He laughs deeply. "Wait till you hear me talk filthy, baby."
Goosebumps rise on my skin as he kisses me hard, looping my arms around his neck, our groans mixing.
"Vaughn?" I breathe as he releases me for a second.
"Yes, blondie?"
"Truth or dare?"
He gets a playful look in his eyes which makes him look boyish — like he did years ago when I used to admire him in secret.
"Always dare, nemesis."
I smile, standing on my toes and brushing the tips of our noses together. "I dare you to take me home and fuck me with your cock."