Novel Name : A Taste of Spring

Chapter 21

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Fallon probably pointed out various attractive women but Dez didn't look because he didn't care. None

of those women were like his. "Hell," he groaned again when he realized he claimed Anna again. She

wasn't his. She obviously didn't want to be because if she did, she would have left a damn number.

"Look, man," Fallon said, patting him on the shoulder, "you have to shake this shit. A hot chick came

into your life for a brief moment. That's that." He shrugged. "You need to get over it. You're acting like a

WON."

Dez sat up. The stare he gave his best friend was one of pure disgust. He was actually offended. He

was no Wounded-One-Nighter.

(Or am I?)

Dez lifted his glass to his mouth and downed the remaining liquid, about half the glass of whiskey, in

one gulp.

(Dammit, I am.)

"You boys want some company?"

Dez looked up to see the Karaoke Princesses standing around their table. Each of them, five total, was

beautiful in her way. Yet, he wasn't interested. But when the saucy redhead beauty with long hair, large

breasts, and round ass touched his shoulder then sat on his lap, Dez forced a smile.

The first step of removing his WON tag was to forget and move on. He glanced over at Fallon as he

offered the other women seats.

When Fallon smiled at him, Dez raised a brow but smiled back. His friend was right. There was no

point in crying over something you never had. More than a month had passed since his unexpected

night with Anna and he hadn't heard from her. She knew where he was-Fallon reminded him of that fact

often. If she wanted him, she...

"So," the redhead whispered in his ear, "You like playing with fire."

"Actually." Dez smiled. She wasn't his brown skin beauty with hazel eyes but she was sexy. "I

absolutely love fire."

----------

An absurd song butchered the silence, jarring Dez into a slight panic. The haze of sleep slowly lifted

with a very horrid cry of words the "artist" bellowed.

It didn't matter what it sounded like, Dez thought because it served its purpose. He was awake.

"Sorry." the tiny voice was laced with drowsiness.

Dez's eyes popped open as he pushed up and glared at the woman beside him. It took him a moment

to remember where and how, but he couldn't for the life of him remember the what.

"Don't look so freaked." She said with a slight grin before grabbing her cell and touching her finger to

the screen. With the alarm silent, she threw back the comforter and got out of bed.

His bed. They were in his bed at his place.

"We didn't do IT." She motioned to her body.

Dez couldn't help but stare at her perfection. She was average height; her large breasts and pelvis

were covered in the most amazing lingerie he'd ever seen. Her red hair looked like she'd just stepped

out of a salon and her face...hell, her pale skin seemed to just glow with youth and vitality.

"It's Tabitha, right?" Dez rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm sorry." He raised his knees, resting his

elbows on them as he watched Tabitha dress. At least he remembered her name.

"No worries Dez. I enjoyed...talking with you. Besides, how many people get to meet, talk to, and sleep

with an author they actually love? You can't tell but I'm totally fangirling in my head right now."

Dez met Tabitha's gaze and in it, he saw understanding. "Tell you what." He threw off the comforter and

picked up his shirt from last night and pulled it over his head. "How about I treat you to breakfast?"

Tabitha frowned. "You don't exactly have any food, I checked last night."

"We'll go out," Dez said as he pulled his jeans up and buttoned them. He noted that Tabitha didn't look

too eager but he felt like an ass for last night...and to find out that he'd starved her too. He had to at

least feed her for being amazing. "Come on... Who can say that they met, talked to, slept with, and ate

breakfast with their favorite author?"

"I never said you were my favorite author, Dezmond Rey," she chuckled.

Dez sat on his bed and pulled on his socks, cursing that he didn't do it before he put on his jeans. He

looked over at Tabitha who was sliding into her heels. "Was it Silicone Blur? You hated it too?" he

sighed.

"My stars, Dez," she said walking over to him, "are all authors this..." She waved her hand over him,

clearly looking for the words she wanted to say.

"Broken," he said, looking up at her.

"Assumptive," Tabitha corrected. "And no, I haven't read your latest book. Look, I'll let you take me to

breakfast but I get to choose where." She looked him over. "Are you wearing that?"

Dez looked over his clothing. His shirt was a bit wrinkled but his jeans were good. He gave her a

confused look. "You're doing the walk of shame in yesterday's clothes so I figured I'd trot beside you in

mine."

Tabitha laughed long and hard as she grabbed his hand and pulled him out of his bedroom. Dez

stepped into his shoes that he left in the hallway, grabbed his keys and cell phone off the dining room

table, and locked the door behind him after ushering Tabitha through it.

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