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Defending Devon


This book was added to our catalog on Sunday 13 January, 2013.

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Devon’s father sends the college student on a European tour over the Christmas holidays, but instead of being elated, Devon feels abandoned and a little frightened.  Devon has a secret no one knows—one that makes the others on the tour, and especially Drew, the handsome tour guide, think he’s a spoiled brat. When Devon is left behind on a trip to a Bavarian castle, Drew stays behind to escort him back to the hotel, though he’s fed up with his behavior.  When Drew locates Devon, however, he not only discovers Devon’s secret, but he finds out that someone is trying to kill the young man.  Now Drew has to find a way to protect Devon, while he’s falling more and more in love with him.

Author Name: Shannon West
Author Bio

Author Name: L. L. Brooks
Author Bio
ISBN: 978-1-61885-520-6
Cover Artist: Dawne Dominique
Word Count: 19992

Devon is hiding on so many levels and uses his attitude as a defense. Andrew is drawn to him on the plane and lets things get out of hand which really causes problems when the run into each other on the tour. Devon is rocked by his encounter with Andrew which leaves him hurt and confused. An "accident" gives them a chance to work things out. When it turns out it was no accident it brings them closer together. What I love what the encounter with Devon's dad at the end.
Date Added: 01/18/2013 by Karen Mathre



A deep voice from across the aisle caused him to jump and look around. “It’s okay, man. Don’t be scared. My father was a pilot, and he said to think of turbulence as just a bumpy dirt road you’re driving down. We’re fine.”

The owner of the voice was in the outside seat across the aisle from him, and he was tall, dark, and delicious, something Devon had noticed the instant the man sat down. What a hunk and only a couple of years older than him As reliable as old Faithful, as soon as he spoke to him, Devon’s dick rose to the occasion, throbbing painfully. “I-I’m not scared.”

The hunk gave him a dubious look, and Devon sighed. The type of biting remark he’d usually make caught in his throat. “Okay, I’m petrified. I really hate to fly. Is that true about the bumpy road?” The plane dropped a bit, and Devon shuddered, gripping the armrests again.

“That’s what my dad said, and he always told me the truth.”

“Lucky you.”

The man looked at him oddly for a moment and then stuck out his hand. “My name is Andrew Stevens. You on holiday?”

Devon accepted his hand, regretting when, after a couple of strong shakes, Andrew pulled it away. “I’m Devon Henley. My father gave me the trip as a Christmas present.”

“Great present, man.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, like he really wanted it. Great idea, wasn’t it? Get rid of the stupid loser kid for the holidays. He pushed the idea away and concentrated on Andrew. He was a walking wet dream. His cock up Andrew’s ass would definitely get his mind off the turbulence.

“You’ll get to see a lot of beautiful country and meet a lot of great people.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly a people person.”

Andrew gave him another interested look. “A hot guy like you? I’d think the girls would be all over you.”

A blush started at his neck and went all the way up his face. His dick was so hard he was surprised the blanket over his lap wasn’t tenting so the world could see. “I-uh-I’m not interested in girls, really.” God, had he said that out loud when he’d never said it before to anyone? Why the hell was he saying it to a complete stranger? He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the put down or the disgusted tone to hit him between the eyes.

Instead, incredibly, Andrew chuckled and said softly, “Neither am I, particularly.”

Devon jerked around to stare. Before he could respond, another massive drop caused his balls to go up somewhere in the general vicinity of his throat. Images of imminent death put him off his game—like he had game.

“Oh, God, this is killing me,” he said miserably.

 Andrew unsnapped his seat belt and moved over to sit in the unoccupied seat next to him. “Do you mind?” he asked quietly.

“N-no, not at all,” he said, once he could speak again. Between the rough ride and the attention of the hot stud sitting next to him, he had a hard time taking in air.

“Good. I was getting a little bored over there all by myself. The planes are mostly empty this time of year.” He tipped his head toward Devon’s bandaged wrist. “Did you fall?”

“No, car wreck. Some asshole sideswiped me into a lamp pole.” He managed to uncurl his fingers enough to raise his hand. “Compliments of the airbag.”

“Statistically you’re a lot less likely to be in a plane wreck than a car wreck.”

A little bell went off and the stewardess spoke again. Devon couldn’t pay attention. He was overcome by the manly scent coming off the gorgeous man next to him. Sort of a mixture of cologne and his own unique smell. Totally delicious. He wanted to bury his face in his neck and smell him all night long.

“Are you ready?”


“To turn off the light? The stewardess asked people to turn off their lights so people can get a little nap. They usually let us try to sleep for a couple of hours before they serve breakfast.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Devon turned off his light and let his seat go back a few millimeters. “They don’t exactly make these seats comfortable, do they?”

“No, not really. Here, let’s put up this armrest so it won’t dig in our sides.” Andrew pushed up the arm rest between them and reached over to Devon’s lap.

Devon jumped a foot. “W-What are you doing?”

“Just adjusting your seat belt. You have it buckled so tight it’s cutting off your circulation.” He laughed. “Let me loosen it for you.”

He adjusted the belt, definitely grazing Devon’s bulging dick—a couple of times. Devon was terrified he’d start to spurt any second. If Andrew so much as came within a hair’s breadth of it again, he wouldn’t be responsible.

Andrew leaned back and glanced over at Devon. “Why so uptight? Just try to relax and go to sleep. Hey, could you share your blanket with me, do you think? I forgot to ask for one earlier.”

“Yeah, sure.” Devon’s voice rose two octaves with the strain. Andrew didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. Pulling the blanket over him a little, he turned toward Devon.

“I sleep better on my side, if that’s okay. I’m not crowding you, am I?”

Andrew’s warm knee rested against Devon’s thigh, currently burning a hole right through his jeans. “No, no, not at all.”

“Good.” Andrew rewarded him with a smile and closed his eyes, his long, luscious eyelashes sweeping onto his cheeks.

Devon held himself tightly in check. Could he crawl over Andrew and make it to the bathroom before he blew? Probably not. What in the hell was he going to do? Oh sweet Jesus, was that Andrew’s hand on his leg?

He whipped his head around and looked directly into Andrew’s baby blues. The pressure on his thigh was definitely Andrew’s hand. Devon’s eyebrows shot to his hairline, and he looked questioningly at his gorgeous seat mate.

“Shhh,” he whispered. “Let me help you out with that.”


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