Enemy Beloved

28 | scandalous dinners

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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.