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V A U G H N

I first realized that I wanted Claire Hill in my bed when she made me steal a kiss on her eighteenth birthday. We made out under the stairs and it was a result of a drunken stupor.

We never talked about it again. I am glad she never asked because I didn't have an answer for her.

There was just the plain truth — I, Vaughn Jackson, could not control my hormones when I saw her in that sexy dress. The dress was made for her with the satin material wrapped tightly around her curves, the neckline dangerously low and displaying the creamy olive skin of her cleavage.

We were just talking but in the blink of a second, I had my lips on hers and we were kissing the life out of each other. She moaned against my lips, clutching my T-shirt in fists and I slid a hand under her hips, picking her up and pressing her against the basement door. I spoke dirty words in her ear as she rolled her hips against mine, her fingers pulling at my hair as my tongue traced hers. I could have had her that night but her brother caught us just in time.

That was four years back and as I genially follow Claire's perfect ass to her room, I am annoyed by the fact that she is still fucking sexy.

Her miniskirt falls just over her thighs and the smooth skin underneath is making my fingers itch to touch her. Like any sane person, I quietly tuck my hands into my pockets as we step into her room and she shuts the door behind us. I have been into the Hill household a thousand times but Claire's bedroom was strictly off-limits. Chris never allowed me to be within a foot's distance from his sister.

I stroll around the room, taking in the scarlet color of the walls and the queen-sized bed. The Hills spend exponentially well for people who are about to go bankrupt. Claire's room has its own chandelier and I bite my cheek to stop myself from throwing her an insult over her Dad. After four years of being treated like shit by Michael Hill, the insults just come and go like night and day.

"I need help."

I am startled by the words spoken behind me and turn to find Claire leaning against the door with her arms crossed over her chest and a glassy look in her eyes.

"Did you say something, nemesis?" I ask, not able to process that Claire just asked for my help.

Help

In her bedroom

"I said I need a favor," she says.

"I don't think those were your exact words. I liked 'help' more."

I plop myself down on her bed, the mattress sinking deep under my weight. It is too soft and for a second I visualize her in her bed, slipping a hand inside her underwear, sweat in her brows, and moans escaping her lips.

Not the right time, Jackson.

"I'm serious, Vaughn." She shrugs her shoulders and walks towards me, her long legs seductively striding to their rightful destination — aka me.

"Having trouble getting off? I can help with that." I smirk as she stands in front of me. My hands instinctively reach forward to touch her hips but she slaps them away. "Ouch!"

"Dad fixed my marriage."

Silence fills the room as my mouth pops open, all the excitement of being alone with Claire in her room disappearing into thin air, replaced by a sudden shock.

Claire's marriage?

Claire fucking Hill is getting married?

"What the hell?" I growl as I sit straight and run a hand through my hair, unable to register this new information.

I look at her, studying her heart-shaped face, luscious blonde hair which is tied in a ponytail, and those plump lips which I had the luxury to taste just once.

I will trade anything in the world to kiss her again.

"Why are you so upset?" She narrows her eyes at me.

"You called me urgently from an important meeting to announce your marriage?" I groan, rubbing my palms over my face. "Why shouldn't I be upset?"

I get up from her bed and walk around the room lazily with my hands on my hips.

"Vaughn, I need your help," she says again, back to 'help'.

I turn to her and find her standing close to me. She looks tiny compared to my height which towers over 6 '2. She cranes her neck to look at me with those big, blue eyes and I know I am screwed.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I don't want to get married to him."

I cock my head to the side as I watch her. She has a calm expression on her face but she is fidgety too. She looks around the room, avoiding my eyes and I realize that marriage is only half the truth.

"Who's the guy?" I ask and she lifts her gaze back to my face.

"Senator Campbell," she replies, her eyes glistening and I stand there dumbfounded.

Campbell is forty years old. That dude has had more than two wives already in his lifetime.

How desperate is Michael Hill to screw his daughter's life?

I bite my tongue, not able to form words. This isn't what I expected to hear when I got Claire's call.

"Wow! This is fucked up." I give a low chuckle as I walk back toward her bed and take a seat.

"I can't marry him," she begins as she pulls up the chair from her vanity and sits across me, one perfect leg over the other. "Dad's blackmailing me that he'll stop my education if I don't accept the proposal. I can't have that happen. It's my last semester."

"Why don't you move out?" I suggest and she cocks an eyebrow.

"And go where?" she chirps. "Even if I get a job, I can't earn enough to pay my tuition fees. I have no other choice but...you."

"What can I do?"

I lean back on her bed as I watch her pull her bottom lip between her teeth. I remember her taste like it was just yesterday when I had her legs wrapped around my torso and my cock pressed between her legs— she tasted like strawberry and whiskey.

"I want you to marry me."

My whole body freezes. I blink, staring at her in perplexity. She has her eyes on the floor, her hands on her lap shaking. I feel the heat in my body rush up to my brain as her words sink in.

Did she just ask me to marry her?

I yank myself up from her bed and stride towards the door in a hurry. My mind is fuzzy. I don't think I heard her right. She called me here to play with me and like a horny teenager, I fell right into her game. Claire Hill asking me to marry her — that is fucking impossible.

"Where are you going?

She rushes towards me and steps between me and the door before I can pull at the knob. She presses her hands to my chest, stopping me.

"Move, Claire," I say grimly, placing a hand on her hip to move her to a side but she grabs hold of my hand.

"Vaughn, just hear me out," she says, pushing me back. "You owe me."

"I owe you?" I grab her elbows as I hold her to me. "I don't owe you anything, nemesis. You and your family have given me enough shit to last a lifetime. You can't be trusted."

"I'm not to be trusted? I fucking lied for you!"

"You did it for Chris," I retort, knowing what she is referring to. "You don't give a damn about me!"

I let go of her and turn around, glancing up at the ceiling of her room and exhaling. I have a tough time controlling my anger but I can't give more reasons to Claire for hating me. Chris's death has left us both scarred and she has her reasons to dislike me even though the reasons are not entirely justified.

"I'm not asking you to marry me for forever," she says. "It's just for six months. I'll graduate by then and we can go our separate ways."

"Why don't you go and ask your boyfriend?"

I turn to face her and notice the tears in her eyes instantly. One look at them and I feel guilt squeezing at my heart.

I hate seeing Claire cry.

"How do you know about him?"

"I know everything about you. Mason's been stalking you since high school. Chris told me to keep an eye out for him."

"I...can't ask...him," she sputters, sticking her tongue out and wetting her lips.

"Why? Your Dad will like him. They're the same kind of douche..." I stop midway when something strikes my mind. "Wait a minute..." I take a step toward her as I watch her cheeks turn red under my gaze. "You're doing this to piss off your Dad, aren't you?"

She doesn't answer but her clenched jaw makes it clear that I am speaking the truth. I stare at her amazedly. The girl is an exact copy of her Dad — both are stubborn as fuck.

"I have to say, nemesis," I jeer at her, putting a finger under her chin and making her look up at me. "You're cunning."

She pushes my hand away. "I'm not in the mood for jokes, Vaughn. You either help me or I'll tell your Mom what you and Chris did back in high school."

"Are you blackmailing me?"

She nods, unabashedly and it kind of impresses me. It feels nice to have feisty enemies, makes your reputation grow.

"We did coke, Claire," I say, not ashamed to speak the truth. After losing Chris, I don't give a damn about what the Hills think of me anymore. "We didn't go around begging our enemies for their last names."

Her fingers curl into fists. I can see her gritting her teeth and know that my words struck a nerve. It is easy to annoy Claire; she is always unguarded. One sexual remark here, one sarcastic comment there and you have yourself a Claire Hill ready to strangle you to death.

Christopher Hill was the only member of their family who made decisions based on logic and not emotions. It was the reason why we became friends in fifth grade. We were like brothers and I will never forget the night I lost him right in front of my eyes. One wrong decision made me lose my only friend and left me with a family of foes.

"I'm sorry I asked," Claire huffs just like her father does. "I should have known you'll never say yes."

She turns to move out of my way but I grab hold of her wrist and pull her towards me, making our bodies collide. She lifts her head to look at me and for a moment, I am reminded of all the times her brother warned me about staying away from her. The idea of his best friend and his sister was absolutely appalling to Chris.

We didn't have any bro code except for one — no dating each other's sisters. Now, as I stare into her greyish-blue eyes, the code feels stupid and for the first time since Chris's death, I want to break the rules.

I want to see what happens if I push her up against the wall and stand between her legs.

Will she feel excited or scared? Will she push me away or let me take her, hard and heavy? How will it feel if she chooses the second option? Will she dig her nails in my back, leaving scars of passion in their wake?

I can smell her sweet scent, something flowery with a hint of citrus. I love how she smells. If I was a wolf, I would have memorized her scent and would have found her anywhere she went.

But that's just a dream. In reality, she is my monster and I am hers.

"I didn't say no, Claire," I say, lifting a hand and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I will marry you."

Her eyes widen as she looks at me with her lips parted in surprise. I follow the movement of her throat as she swallows a gulp.

"Really?"

"Yes." I nod. "But I have conditions."