Ladies Man (Manwhore #4)(51)

I blink, flabbergasted.

“Are you teasing me?” I narrow my eyes, straightening too.

“Why would I tease you, Regina?” He tugs on a strand of my hair, smiling with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Tahoe Roth, the infamous player, would be monogamous all of a sudden? What? Do you want a girlfriend now?” I ask, pushing at his chest, laughing at the thought.

He laughs too. “I’m too old for a girlfriend,” he says, catching my wrist before I can retrieve it and squeezing it gently in his warm palm.

“So what do you want? Do you want me to be a permanent groupie? And what, you promise not to break my heart, you shameless heartbreaker?”

He smirks as he holds my wrist in his hands, squeezing it gently—and in that moment I feel like he’s squeezing my heart.

He smirks again, but his voice is low and husky, as is the look in his eyes. “You’d need to give it to me for me to break it.”

“In your wildest dreams, Roth.” I sound breathless. I am breathless. I pry my wrist free of his hold. “Look, I like being with you, so what? And maybe you drop my defenses, so what? I got drunk and said some things at the beach house. That’s what this is coming from, right? It’s no big deal.”

He leans back and spreads out his arms, and his dimple is still showing even when his eyes swirl like storms. “It’s a big deal to me.”

“It’s not a big deal.” I straighten in my seat and tug down his shirt primly. Nervously.

“Alright then, it’s no big deal.” He smirks, cants his head and links his hands behind his head, looking at me as he waits for a reaction.

I exhale. “You told me yourself you had nothing to offer me. It’s taken me a while to see you were right, Tahoe.”

Ever so slowly, he lowers his arms back to rest his elbows on his knees and leans forward. He clenches his jaw in frustration, his eyes losing their shine. God, they’re almost black, they’re so dark and stormy.

He looks at me, all of his energy muted, as if he’s coiling it all within himself for control. “You’re not yourself when you’re with him, Regina. The girl right here with me now,” he runs his eyes over me with a slow, meaningful nod, “the girl with me, is the Regina I know. The girl I see with Davis is a shadow of her. You can do so much better than that motherfucker and you know it.”

All the confusions about my relationship with Trent rise to the forefront, and I hate him for bringing them here.

“He’s good, Tahoe,” I say lamely.

“Is he good, Regina?” He raises his brows, and if I didn’t know better, I’d swear that beneath the playful, devilish glint in his eyes, there’s a jealous fire brewing there too. “Do you give your boyfriend your panties too?”

“No.” I bristle at the reminder and poke his chest angrily. “By the way, I want those back.”

“That would be a no as well.” He catches my finger, caresses it between his thumb and forefinger before I pry it free.

I fold my finger back into my palm; it burns a little. “Why not?”

“’Cause I like the way they look,” he says with a shameless glint in his eye, “I like the way they smell, and I like the way they feel between my fingers.”

The color rises up my cheeks and neck and body.

Heat floods between my legs.

My heart feels like a volcano, pumping nothing but lava into my veins.

“I don’t think you love him,” he continues. “You’re not happy with him. It’s like you’re forcing yourself to be whatever you think he wants you to be. If he’s with you, he should want you, just you, period.” He glares in confusion and frustration and anger on my behalf. “Baby,” he exclaims, shaking his head in bewilderment, “why would any woman want to be anything else when they are you, huh?” He grabs my face and looks into my eyes, frustrated. “Huh, Gina?” he demands, searching my face.

His eyes bore into me.

His jaw is clenched so tight I think he’ll break his molars.

“What if that motherfucker is the best I can do?” I challenge back, just a breath.

He laughs softly and caresses his thumbs over my cheekbones before releasing me.

He falls back on the seat, shaking his head.

“That’s not true, you can do so much better,” he softly assures. He reaches out and touches my hair, gently tweaks my nose, and leans over. He sniffs me as he says, “You’re gorgeous, girl. You’re authentic. You smell like heaven.” He eases back, his smile so honest and adorable. “Your presence is like a sparkling firework that never goes out. You bake pie. And your smile is an absolute addiction.”