Smitten || DeAndre Jordan {Crush Sequel}

Chapter Fourteen

Camila

I opened the door into the bay and felt a hand roughly close around my upper arm. I gasped as DeAndre shoved me up against the wall, pinning me there with his body as his lips ascended to mine. His mouth assaulted mine, laced with possessiveness and desperation as his tongue invaded, sweeping inside with delicious abandon. My knees shook, and I fisted his shirt in my hands, trying to pull him closer as I drowned in the sensations he was creating inside me.

This is dangerous. My brain told me, reminding me that Jason could walk through the door any second and catch us. The thought quickly left as one of DeAndre's hands tangled in my hair, and the other drifted down my body. A soft moan escaped from me, and he growled in return, pressing harder.

"I can't take this anymore," he whispered harshly against my lips. "Seeing you in his arms – watching him touch you. It's driving me insane. I want to rip him apart." He claimed my mouth again, denying me any chance to reply, but I didn't care. I didn't want him to stop – I wanted him to continue his ravishing. My blood pounded in my ears, rushing with both fear and desire as I continued to clutch at him, desperate to keep this connection. Heat streaked through my veins and threatened to melt every part of me... I couldn't get enough.

"Cami, where are you?" Jason's voice floated in from the hall, interrupting the moment, and DeAndre released me abruptly, stepping away, his breathing rapid as he stared hotly.

"You are mine," he whispered, glancing once over me before he swallowed thickly, then fled the room through the far door that led outside.

My legs felt like gelatin as I quickly stumbled back to the desk and sat down at the computer, trying to slow my breaths.

"There you are," Jason said, peeking inside with a puzzled look. "Didn't you hear me calling for you?"

I shook my head. "No, sorry. I think I'm coming down with a migraine or something. I don't feel very well." It wasn't really a lie. All of this pretending was starting to get to me.

Jason's eyes narrowed for a moment, and he studied me as he walked over.

I felt my heart rate click a notch higher. Were my lips swollen? Could he tell I'd been kissing DeAndre?

"You do look a bit flushed. Why don't you go lie down in my room?" He said it casually enough, but there was no way I was going to cross that boundary. I needed to keep as much distance as possible between us. I felt sick every time he touched me.

"Actually, I think I may go home, if that's okay with you. I'll take some medicine and go to bed. I have a lot of homework due tomorrow, so I'll need to get up early and finish it."

Jason rubbed a hand against my face. "Whatever you need, baby. It's okay with me. I'll probably be working on this car for a while anyway. Call me in the morning, okay?"

"I will," I promised, standing and grabbing my purse off the desk. Jason turned my face towards his and placed a kiss against my lips. It was all I could do to not start weeping. I didn't want to kiss him. I only wanted DeAndre. I hated all this faking, but it had to be done. I'd do anything required to keep DeAndre safe.

Quickly, I gathered my books, and Jason walked me outside. I couldn't help glancing to the bay next door where DeAndre was bent over the dash of the new car. It looked like he was replacing the VIN plate.