No

“Brenda,” Tyrone breathed against my lips. “I want you so bad.”

“Yes,” I whispered back, my hands fisting in his shirt. “I want you too.”

With that, Tyrone scooped me up into his arms and carried me upstairs to my bedroom. He laid me down on the bed, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at me.

I reached for him, pulling him down on top of me. Our lips met again, this time with even more heat and intensity. Tyrone's hands were everywhere, touching and teasing every inch of my body. I arched into his touch, needing more, needing everything he had to give.

As we kissed and touched, I couldn't believe what I was doing. I was a grown woman, a mother, and here I was, in bed with a teenager. But as Tyrone's lips trailed down my neck, as his hands slipped beneath my shirt, I couldn't bring myself to care. All I knew was that I wanted him, needed him, and nothing was going to stop me from having him.

Tyrone’s hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of my body with a hunger that made my skin tingle. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving a scorching path as he made his way to my collarbone. I arched beneath him, gasping as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin.

“Tyrone,” I breathed, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Oh God…”