“It's so hot," she whispered, slipping her hand into Tyrone's shirt to caress his muscles.

A contented sigh escaped her lips. It felt wonderful, yet not enough.

Unconsciously, she ripped at Tyrone's shirt, breaking the top two buttons, and pressed her face against him.

Tyrone's arms cradled a sexy woman, writhing and restless. Desire threatened to overtake him, but memories of Sabrina's tearful accusations held him back. He feared causing her pain or increasing her hatred towards him.

Earlier, when he had witnessed the scene in the tent, fury had consumed him. Had he not realized Sabrina's urgency, he might have killed Raul right then.