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Jax set her on her feet. From behind her, he immediately clamped that broad hand around her wrists, holding them once more behind her back. Ian came out of the other room, a towel draped around his lean waist and another one hanging over one tanned shoulder. His dark brown hair was damp and tousled, his skin still moist from his recent shower.
Green eyes narrowed on her face before his gaze swept up and down her body, taking in her black clothing and boots. "Well, well." He looked at Jax. "Seems to me you said something about someone's ass being yours?"
"Mmm. You're right. I have been talking about discharging my weapon to get him--or, rather her--to talk, haven't I?"
"Listen, guys, you have the wrong idea..." Hannah trailed off as Ian came closer. His stride was loose-hipped. God, he was sex-on-a-stick, a stick that tented the towel he wore.
He brought his face close and whispered, "I don't think we do, little thief."
"You tell me where my cows are off to, and it'll go easier with you with the authorities." Jax spun her around to face him.
Ian grasped her wrists, keeping them captive behind her back. He moved in, the heat from his body covering her like a living blanket.
Hannah couldn't tell. It'd be handing a death sentence to the defenseless bovina, not to mention jail time for her friends. Clamping her lips together, she shook her head.
She felt a momentary unease. But in their encounter a year ago, Jax had been dominant but gentle, so she had no fear he would hurt her. Ian was a wild card, but she couldn't believe Jax would let him hurt her, either. Deep in her gut she knew she was safe.
By the lust in their hardfaces, not out of danger completely, though. She fought back a shiver as her arousal ratcheted up another notch.