My Slice Of Life

It wasn't long before Hank and Happy returned with the promised stencil.  "Here, mi princessa. Let's try this size." 

Megan smiled and began to remove the layers she still wore until she was down to her band shirt. She laid her flannel and hoody across the bar and smiled as she offered her left arm.

Hank took her hand and kissed it before taking the offered transfer gel from Happy. He placed the stencil just below her elbow.

Megan's smile grew as she saw the purple ink on her skin.

Taza looked over her shoulder and smiled softly. "Your first club ink, Chica. Is it what you want?"

She looked up at him and he saw the absolute certainty in those brown eyes. She nodded. “Then it's perfect."

A few hours later, the tattoos were done and wrapped in plastic. Megan's left arm was marked with her very own symbol. On her right- a black feather to mark her as a club friend to SAMCRO. Halfway through the session, Happy had received a text message saying the Wahiwa Lodge was ready for its temporary inhabitants. 

“Alright, Lass? Hank wasna ' jokin’ bout you takin' ink like a champ," Chibs grinned." An now yer proper ready for tonight."

Megan smiled at the Scot and leaned back against Hank as he came up behind her after a final hand wash. "What's tonight?"

Bishop grinned a little. "What else, Poquito? A party to welcome us to Charming town." 

Taza laughed at the dismayed look on his daughter's face. "Let's get to the lodge and unpack a bit. Give la princessa some time to decompress- rest." He winked as he scratched Rex's ears. "A shower and change of clothes wouldn't hurt any of us."

The Wahiwa Reservation guest lodge was all theirs for the duration of their visit. That meant that, for once, everyone had their own rooms. Chibs and Happy had ridden along to make the introductions to the tribal elders as well as so Happy could see that the changes he'd required had been made.

Hank and Megan had a small suite next to the rooms designated for Bishop and Taza. A huge king sized bed- with a brand new mattress- as well as a large dog bed took up most of the room space.

Megan unpacked the three outfits she'd brought along on the run and stared at them in dismay. She'd packed as the Santo Padre Armorer. Sensible jeans, long sleeved shirts, and hoodies were all she had, along with her basic jewelry. She hadn't packed for a SAMCRO party. She groaned softly.

Hank paused in his own unpacking. "Everything good, mi princessa?" he asked from the other side of the bed.

She tried to smile for him. "Of course, Baby. Just... assessing my options for tonight." 

Hank chuckled and came around to cuddle her back against his chest. "Not liking what you see, mi amore?"

"I didn't exactly pack 'party' clothes. I packed warm and practical, but not pretty." 

He softly kissed the back of her hair. "I'm sorry Princessa. We could go see what we can find in town..."

She shook her head. "No time. Especially not if we're supposed to get there with Papa and Tío Bishop."

Hank looked over her clothes. "You know you don't have to dress up for this- right? You'll look beautiful in any of these." He squeezed her waist gently.

"You, sir, are biased." She smiled. "I know I can wear my normal clothes to the party. I just like to look my best when I'm dealing with new people." She turned in his hold with a giggle. "And I like when you can show me off a bit, too."

Hank pulled her into a kiss softly. "I can always show you off, mi reina. You could be in a paper sack and I'd think you shined brighter than the sun."

Megan took a deep breath and settled against his chest to relax for a moment.

A knock at the door broke them apart. Hank opened the door fully expecting it to be Taza standing there to see if Megan wanted her hair redone or Bishop letting them know about dinner plans before the party. Instead, Hank found the skinny SoA prospect standing nervously in the hallway with a large box and a bag.

"Excuse me- is Ms. Megan in this room?" he asked.

Hank grunted an affirmative and saw the relief flash across the kids face.

"Great. Ms. Venus sent me to deliver this to Ms. Megan since she says she knows she wasn't expecting a party." He offered Hank the items and looked ready to flee.

Megan stuck her head around Hank's broad form to smile at the prospect. "Thank you! I'll call her and tell her you delivered it, Prospect." He nodded hurriedly and squeaked out a "no problem" before he scurried away. 

Hank shook his head and kicked the door gently closed before putting the gifts on their bed. "Are they sure that one's old enough to prospect?" 

Megan laughed." Venus calls him Babyface all the time. He's their new one." She smiled softly as she shot off a text to Venus to thank her before even opening the box. Inside was a faux leather a-line dress with cap sleeves. The cut screamed innocent, but the black leather gave the piece some edge. The bag contained ballet flats and a new tube of mascara and an eyeliner pencil- both in black and waterproof.

Hank smiled as Megan laid it out on the bed. "That's going to look nice with your kutte, mi amore."

She smiled again and ran a finger down the bodice seam nearest her. "Yeah. I think so too."

They showered together with Hank gently cleaning her new tattoos for her while keeping her hair dry for the night. The plan was to put tegaderm on the bicep tattoo to keep it from rubbing too much. Her club ink would be kept uncovered. Hank preferred to keep it that way to aid healing. While Hank dressed himself, he kept an eye on Megan. He watched her slip into her bra and underwear. The soft cast allowed her much more independence than the sling had, but she still struggled with some things. Zippers were one of those things.

After doing her skincare, she slipped into the dress that the first Lady of SAMCRO had provided only to discover that the zipper was in the back and out of her reach.

Before she could ask, Hank paused in buttoning his red and black flannel to zip her dress for her- stroking the soft skin of her back. He pressed an open mouthed kiss to the side of her neck with a smile.

Megan smiled back over her shoulder at him. "How do you think I should wear my hair?" she asked.

Hank took her good hand and spun her dramatically to make her giggle and her skirt flare. Her loose hair spun with her. "You look perfect, mi reina. La Princessa de los Mayas."

"Will you help me with my jewelry when you get done getting ready?" she asked, wandering over to the mirror to line her top lids and put a coat of mascara on.

"Absolutely". He finished with his buttons and styled his hair as she slipped into the ballet flats.

Only once her crown necklace and pearl earrings were in place did Megan seem to breathe. 

Hank shrugged into his own kutte before holding hers out to help her into it.

Out in the common room, Taza and Bishop waited for them so they could head back to TM for the party. The other members had gone on ahead.

"Well aren't you pretty. Poquito." Bishop grinned as he offered a hand for a spin. Megan took it allowing them to see the full effect of her gift. "Where'd you get the dress?"

Hank chuckled. "One guess, Bish. La Princessa has friends everywhere." 

"Surely not Happy..." Taza said with a laugh. 

Megan giggled. "No. Not Happy- this time. Venus came to my rescue." 

"Well-don't count Happy out for the night just yet, Chica," her father laughed. "You're gonna want to thank him- again. He sent you a ride."

"A ride?" Megan asked. "I thought we were taking the bikes to TM."

"We are," said Bishop. "You- however- are riding in a jeep that T.O. just finished restoring- with or without your caballero." He grinned. "It's an automatic, so you can drive it yourself if you'd like." 

Hank laughed. "He really doesn't like you getting cold apparently, mi amore."

Megan laughed and looked at Hank. "So are you riding or are you coming in the jeep with me and Rex?"

"I think I'll join you in the jeep, Princessa. That way my bike is here and not stuck at

T. M. when you get too tired to drive home."

A short drive later and they arrived at T.M. Happy sat on the picnic table outside sipping a beer and ignoring the croweater currently trying her best to get his attention. Megan smiled at him softly. "Hey Happy. Thank you for finding another vehicle besides the van for us to use here."

He grunted and smirked. "How's the ink?"

"Not too bad. Hank put Tegaderm on my feather so it wouldn't rub on my clothes." She tilted her right arm to show where he'd tattooed her mark.

The quiet man nodded and checked the seal on the clear bandage himself. "It'll do."

Hank chuckled and shook the man's hand. "Told ya she takes ink like a champ."

Happy only nodded and scratched Rex's ears before waving them on inside.

Inside Megan was hit with a wall of sound as voices and music mingled. Smoke from joints and cigarettes made it all the more disorienting for her. She wrapped her injured arm around Hank's forearm and reached for Rex's collar with her left.

"Easy, mi amore. I know it's a lot at first..." Hank soothed.

"Why are our parties so much calmer than SAMCRO's?" she asked quietly.

Taza appeared at her left with a bottle of water for her and chuckled. "They aren't. You're just always there from the beginning so it doesn't seem as rowdy."

She winced and nodded.

"If it gets to be too much, mi princessa, just let me know. We'll find somewhere quieter." Hank pressed a kiss to her hair and drew her close to his side.

By the time they made it to the bar to greet Chibs and Tig, Megan had settled into the noise a bit. It wasn't any worse than working the bars on Broadway in Nashville. She was just so used to the quiet of Santo Padre now that it took some adjusting. 

"There's tha’ lass! Ya ' alright?" Chibs asked as he saluted her with his whiskey glass.

"I'm good, Chibs. Just a bit unaccustomed to the noise." She slid onto the bar stool Hank pulled out for her and leaned back against el pacificador.

"To be fair- these parties could raise the dead, Sugar," said Venus as she arrived at Tig's side. She grinned and offered Megan a hug. "I just knew that dress was perfect for you." 

Megan took the hug happily. "Thank you for sending your prospect over with it. I only brought work clothes for this run- nothing for a party."

"I figured. Especially since you came down on the bike. Was the ride alright?" the older southern woman asked.

"It was fine. A little chilly, but nothing too extreme," Bishop answered as he took his own glass of whiskey from Chibs. 

Venus raised one manicured eyebrow at Megan. "So, no issues?"

Megan winced. "You're as bad as Happy," she muttered. "I struggled a bit with the enclosed van. That's all. Nothing major."

The First Lady of SAMCRO gave an indelicate snort. "A little? Or a lot?"

Hank soothed Megan by running his hands down her biceps. "She found ways to cope. It wasn't fun, but we made it okay." He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her head.

"Alright. I'll leave off. Show me your ink," Venus smiled as she sipped a cocktail out of a dainty glass that looked comically out of place in the rough bar.

Glad for the change of subject, Megan turned her arms to show off her new art work.

As the night got later, Hank guided Megan to a couch in the corner for a breather. He waved their prospect down to ask EZ to make Megan a cup of tea and was a little shocked when EZ didn't immediately remember how Megan preferred it. He resolved again to check on the kid sooner rather than later.

When he returned his attention to his princessa, he found her frowning at her personal phone as she scratched Rex's ears. "What's wrong, mi amore?"

"You remember that weird text that I got on the drive up?" she asked.

Hank settled himself on the couch for her to lean on and nodded.

"I got another one..."

That brought a frown to his own face and he glanced around for Taza as he asked, "What's this one say?"

"’A full house is a stacked deck. Know when to fold…’" she replied.

"Fuck. Someone knows the Kings are state side and we're here to meet them."

"That's certainly what it sounds like. But no one should have this number. It's my personal." She handed him the phone to show him the number.

Hank saw EZ returning with Megan's tea. He took it distractedly and sent him back after Taza and Bishop.

Less than an hour later, Megan found herself sitting in the SoA version of an officer's templo. Chibs, Tig, and Happy were the only ones present for the home club, while the entire group of Mayans officers were present.

"Jaysus Christ- who could be trackin 'tha lass?" Chips asked.

Creeper rubbed his head and growled as he examined Megan's phone. "It's not firmware. It's not been bugged. It doesn't make any sense."

Taza nodded. "I bought that phone with cash even though I was attaching it to my plan. Bought it straight at the store- no outside tech handled it."

Happy grunted and chewed his toothpick. "Who's got the number?"

Megan counted them off on her fingers. "The club, Mama, Tía Diana, Tessa, Venus, Letty, and Happy. That's it."

Tig leaned back in his chair. "Only one explanation then- feds."

Bishop sighed. "Gotta be. Probably the ones Galindo is tied up with. They're the only ones with the pull to subpoena phone records. It's nothing for them to try to use your new arrival on the scene to their advantage."

Angel smoked quietly. "So is the phone safe to use?"

Chibs nodded. "Safe enough for personal use. Tha 'lass ain't exactly makin 'deals on her personal phone."

Megan wrinkled her nose. "Absolutely not. I barely use it outside the family. That's why I kept my burner." 

"Right, Little Bit. Leave the fed hotline at the lodge while we're out handling business. They can't track it on Wahiwa land. Hell- we should probably all do that with the importance of this job," Tig said. 

"I'll let the LO know that the feds have moved on from putting tails to possible phone taps on personals. She'll need to know." Angel was already sending a text on the LO burner phone. 

"Of course she will. And, Sweet Chica, they can't connect you to a single thing. Just- ignore messages except for telling us about them, alright?" Taza said smiling gently at her. "We've got you covered." 

Tig frowned. "The Kings know they're constantly followed and monitored on U.S. soil. This shouldn't do more than maybe hurry things along at this point." 

Chibs nodded. "Alright then. Let's let Hank take the lass to bed for the night. We'll contact the Kings and let them know what's doin 'and keep everyone updated- on the burners." He smiled at Megan. "Go sleep. Yer done in."

Megan smiled back at the Scot before standing to kiss his cheek. Hank slid his arm around her waist and let her say her good nights to the other reapers as the party outside raged on. 

"I'm gonna hang back and make sure our guys remember we're here to work ," Creep said as the younger Mayans rejoined the party.

" 'Preciate it," Bishop said as he tossed his beer bottle on the way out the door. Taza joined him as they wrapped up for the ride home.

"Headed out?" Venus asked, as she appeared at Megan's side with her leather jacket for her. "Good. Get some rest and we'll see what plans are for tomorrow so we can plan lunch."

Megan hugged the older woman tightly. "OK. Night Venus. I may be slow to answer texts for the next few days, but I'll try to answer."

"That's alright, Sugar. You've got plenty goin 'on. We'll get some girl time before you leave." She straightened Megan's jacket collar and grinned up at Hank. "Take care of her, Tranq."

"Yes ma 'am," he answered as he guided Megan to the borrowed jeep and loaded Rex in the back.

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Hank had only responded to one of your texts at the beginning of the week. When he didn’t respond to the second or third one, confusion and embarrassment kept you from sending any more. Lost in thought, you startled when your phone chirped with a notification. The text from one of your friends already inside, put a smile back on your face. Checking your lip gloss, you shook off the cloud of self doubt, typed a quick response back and hopped out of your car, determined to have a fun night no matter what.

Hank or no Hank.  

0.o.0.o.0

The mood inside, plus your friends and a few drinks, squelched the nervousness in your belly. You all had planted yourselves at the bar for a round of shots, when a shift in the room made you look around. Despite pretending you hadn’t been watching the door all night, your stomach flip-flopped as in walked Angel, Riz and bringing up the rear - Hank.  

Duty bound, Hank greeted Bishop first with a brief whisper on the success of their pick up, but his eyes had already spotted you. While he forced himself not to contact you during the four days he was gone, he was unsuccessful in pushing thoughts of you away. Every day they were on the road, he tried to convince himself that he didn’t miss you - that your budding friendship wasn't turning into something else. He had made that mistake before - assuming he was reading a woman’s cues correctly without confirming. Planning ahead without a direct conversation about where things were going. The humiliation hit so deep, he swore he’d never let it happen again.

But when he walked through the door, there you were. Perched on a barstool, beautiful as he’d ever seen you in yellow - a sunflower blooming in the middle of his desert. Hope sprang up uninvited, spreading through his system. Warming his chest and curving his lips into a smile against his will. He didn’t want to be happy about it yet, in fact, he actively tried not to be. He moved at a leisurely pace to give himself time to press what he was feeling down as far as it would go. Still, he knew while he greeted his brothers, his inner compass was set on you.

From the chatter around the fire, you learned that they had been on the road, which did little to restore your confidence, because you had already talked yourself into believing that you had been wrong about him. You had to see his eyes again to know, to be sure that what you were feeling was based in reality. Despite wanting to run, you forced yourself to stay by the bar. Sliding down from your seat, you pretended to listen to your friends. You could feel your hands begin to sweat. Your heart rate sped up as you tracked him from the corner of your eye. He was closing in on you, one head nod, one handshake and one clap on the back at a time.

When you could feel his presence without any bodies between you, you drew in one last deep breath for courage, turning to face him fully. With his hands tucked in his front pockets, he smiled, greeting your group then leaned toward you just enough to keep your conversation private.

“Hey.” His smile was its normal mix of reserved warmth, his eyes almost reduced to just eyelashes, the unexplained spray of freckles on his face were less prominent due to his ‘rider’s tan’.

“Hey, Hank.” Taking in how good he looked in his jeans, simple black t-shirt and chain, you couldn’t hide the joy in your tone. “You’re back.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, you opened your arms for a quick hug as you regularly did, but tonight was different. The music and voices surrounding you turned fuzzy as his hand skipped the quick pats he normally gave your back, for drawing you into him. The way the lower portion of his torso fully connected with yours was new, too. Your mind scrambled with the implications of what it meant, while your body relaxed into the feeling. You could scarcely breathe realizing Hank wasn’t hugging you…he was holding you.   

For Hank, stepping into your arms this time, felt like coming home. It was fulfilling a need he hadn’t acknowledged yet. He gave his time and loyalty to his mom, to his brothers, and to the club - he moved through life giving to everyone except himself. But you? You were singular in the attention you paid him. You asked about his day, about his life, his history. You made him smile. In the grand scheme of things, what you gave him was simple, basic - but for a man who didn’t have it, it was everything. He tried to play it cool, but as soon as your arms went around him, his long-practiced restraint flung itself right out the clubhouse doors and he found himself trying to get as much of you as he could in the few seconds he had. Your heady scent demanded that he draw in a deeper breath. The desire to let his hands roam a path up and down your back was something he would have never acted on before, least of all allowing his brothers to see it. He dared to close his eyes, hoping that the feeling of your body relaxing into his wasn’t a false message.

Slowly, he turned his head enough to rest his cheek on the exposed skin just before the bend of your shoulder. He pressed his lips together on a sigh, uncertain of what you would think about the fact that it meant anything to him to touch those few inches of your skin. It was torture knowing that with a slight turn of his head, he could press his lips there. Adding to it, your heated exhale on his neck made him wonder if you wanted your mouth to meet his skin, too.

No, not again.

Opening his eyes, he pushed the thoughts of what you might want away and stood up straight. He was too old to make that kind of mistake again. He had to be sure, 100% positive he was not making a fool of himself. He forced himself to let go of you before somebody noticed and made a comment or made it dirty.

Your bodies were separated now, cooled air where body heat once was. Ever the gentleman, Hank ducked his head to avoid eye contact, keeping you from seeing the want simmering there. “Sorry,” he muttered with a slight upturn of his lips, trying to lighten the moment. “I’m uh, dusty.”

Eyes wide and tongue tied, you were trying to keep your hands to yourself as you shook your head in a dismissal of his apology.

"It’s good to see you."

His voice came out rough, but his words loosened your tongue and you found your smile again, "You too. Nice and safe…and all that good stuff."

“Yeah.” His chest bounced in a silent chuckle while he gave a quick nod. “Yeah.”

“Hank.” Bishop’s rough voice broke through the bubble you were in. “Templo.”

Seeing Taza and Riz following him, Hank turned back to look at you. “You uh, leaving soon?”

“Nope!” Embarrassed that you barely let him get the question out, you chewed the inside of your bottom lip. “I’ll be around.”

“Good.” Hank tried not to interpret the shine in your eyes as anything significant and gave you another firm nod, “Alright.”

“Okay.”

Watching him roll the stained glass door of their meeting place closed, you could breathe normally again.

0.o.0.o.0

For the rest of the night, you and Hank couldn’t stay away from each other - gravitating into each other’s orbits again and again. The pull dictating how long he let his hand linger on your back or your hand on his arm. Not minding the intimacy of you having to lean into the other’s ear to be heard over the noise. Taking longer to notice when the conversation would narrow down to just you two. And it was that newfound draw that led you to separating from your friends and having Hank walk you to your car.

The night air swirling down the man-made corridor was a welcome respite from the heat of the packed clubhouse. The music and voices dulled by the tall fence made a way for the soft rasp in Hank’s voice to soothe the relentless butterflies in your stomach. And every time his hand or arm brushed yours as you walked, the spray of tingles it caused extended your buzz. Your car’s lights flashed when you pressed the button to unlock your door, bringing your light conversation to its natural end. Hank stood close, but not close enough, considering that you had been thinking about being alone with him all night. Reaching for a final hug put you back in his arms the way you wanted to be - held tightly against this barrel-chested, solid wall of a man, filling your nostrils with the clean scent of his cologne and hair oil.

At its end this time, he didn’t pull so far away and let his fingers stay with yours. You swallowed hard, turning your face away, focusing on the firelight spilling out from the yard to keep it together.

Sensing something was wrong, he asked, “You okay?”

You breathed out a quick laugh, “I’m nervous.”

“Oh.” Struck with indecision, he took a step back, dropping his hand from yours. “Sorry, uh--”.

“No! I didn’t mean--”. You sputtered out, reaching for his hand to keep him from moving further away. You could feel heat spreading from your neck to your face. If dying of embarrassment was an actual thing, somebody would be preparing my eulogy. “Hank…it’s not--.”

His voice was a bit strained as he spoke over you, “I didn’t meant to push y--”.

“No-no!” You tugged on his hand even as your voice faltered, “You didn’t! I’m just--.”

Hank blinked twice, studying your face. He wanted to believe you but just two seconds before looked like you wanted to duck and run, so what was he supposed to think? It was you that fumbled the moment so you had to be the one responsible for its course correction. You had to show him.

Ignoring the uncertainty in his expression and your own skittish nerves, you reached up and caressed his face. You locked eyes with him, unblinking. “Hank...I want this. I do.”

His eyes dropped down to your mouth when you wet your lips and he mirrored your action. Drawing him down, you brushed your lips over his, letting the slip of your lip gloss provide the initial glide. You felt his breath warming your mouth as his lips parted, hovering. Tilting your head up a little more pressed your lips together again. Slowly, Hank leaned into it, letting you lead him past his own misinterpretation with soft, exploratory kisses - deliberately allowing the heat to build, as you lazily picked up your pace.

Feeling his response, you lapped your tongue twice on his bottom lip, tilting your head to invite him to deepen the kiss - whispering breathless against his lips, “I want this.”

And that was all he needed.

Hank gripped the back of your head and kissed you the way he had wanted to for weeks. Slow, deep, breaking away only to secure his hold on you and start again. His tongue tasted of smoke and dark liquor - lightly sweetened by his cinnamon oil toothpick. Your mouth opened wide in obedience to his cues and your own desire for more of it. He surprised you, stepping one foot between yours to drag you closer to him by your hips.  

“Tan dulce,” he murmured, vibrating the tender skin on your neck as he kissed a trail down it, sending eye fluttering ripples of sensation up your spine. (So sweet.)

As he pressed you back into your car door, he dragged his mouth back up to yours. He exhaled hard down your throat when you slid your hands down his cut and under his shirt to glide your hot hands over the bare skin of his back. He kissed down your neck again and you leaned your head to the side in a silent offering - your breath catching in your throat every time his teeth nipped at you or he sucked on another section of your soft skin.

Bolder now, you ran your hands over his torso and you felt his tremor. As you dragged your nails down his chest, he squeezed your hips hard. Surrendering, he dropped his head down on your shoulder and a low sound escaped him from deep in his throat. The Hank you knew was so reserved, so even-keeled that being able to draw a sound like that out of him made your core pulse and flutter so hard, it was almost painful.

And you wanted to hear that sound again.

His hold on you now was more urgent than before, one hand at your waist and the other holding your head secure - his palm warm against your ear, his fingertips pressed into your scalp. His tongue danced with yours as his hand on your waist slid up higher. Forming to your shape with each inch it climbed, his thumb’s gentle sweeping motion creating a separate pleasurable sensation. Your body, tingling in anticipation, was left unsatisfied as he stopped just beneath your breast. You couldn’t help the quiet moan of disappointment that left your lips. He was giving you everything you needed to feel like you could let yourself go. You felt wanted and somehow protected - safe to express how you felt, so you did. Covering his hand with yours, you dragged it up higher, pressing it to your breast - giving consent without any words that would break the spell.

Pulling back to be able to see your face, Hank cupped you lightly, squeezing just hard enough to be clear that the pressure applied was his, not yours. His thumb swept over you, finding the raised bump of your nipple. You did not take your hand away as your eyes fluttered closed and you arched your back for more. The sight of you like that sent blood surging to his core instantly.   

“Fuck.” Pulling back, he snatched both of his hands from you and gripped the top of your car door on either side of you.  

Undeterred, you tugged him back to you by his cut, trying blindly to find his lips again. With his eyes closed, he took a couple deep breaths and exhaled slowly. “Wait.”

Opening your eyes, you saw that his lips were pressed together in a firm line and the accompanying frown showed just how hard he was working to restrain himself.

“Not out here,” he rasped out. “Not like this.”

Opening his eyes, Hank found out too late that looking down at you was a mistake. The swell of your breasts rose and fell visibly. Your perfect lips were still parted, eyes wide. Fuck!

“Not like this.” Cupping your jaw, his voice came out like gravel, heavy with need, “You understand?”

You did. But knowing didn’t help calm how you were feeling. You couldn’t stop your hands from moving over his body, loving how his eyelids dipped when they slid up his sides. Biting your lip, your question was bold but spoken so softly, “My place then?”

Without warning, he kissed you again - rough and demanding. His hands took on a life of their own - gripping and stroking, cupping and lifting - knowing he should stop but also needing to know what made you react, what made you moan. Raising your hunger for him to a whole new level, weakening your legs.

“Okay,” he whispered against your kiss-swollen lips. Steadying his breath, he rested his forehead on yours trying to make his feet walk away from you and failing miserably. “I’ll follow you.”

Your head was spinning and your body humming so loud you weren’t sure you could drive worth a damn, but you nodded in agreement anyway.

“Two minutes,” he promised with his hands intermittently squeezing and releasing your hips. “Just let me get my bike.”

“Hank?”

He stood up straight, “Hm?”

“Go.” Swallowing, you pushed his chest lightly, forcing him to take a step backward, “Hurry.”

The look in your eyes finally put his feet in motion, never more certain of anything in his life.

- fin -

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The table vote went exactly the way they expected it to go. Marcus would pause his patch at the end of the meeting. Angel revealed that they now had all the shipping details ready to pass on to the Irish Kings whenever the Scot was ready for them. 

"Sounds like we're all set. This gun deal is going to change a lot of lives." Bishop leaned back in his chair and smiled as he rested his cigarette on the ashtray. "Our alliances are stronger than ever. Our club is stronger than ever. All thanks to one person." He looked at Megan. "Poquito. You've earned that kutte a thousand times over. Don't ever forget that." 

There were whoops of agreement as the men banged on the table with their fists as Megan ducked her head a little. 

Marcus smiled. "It's true, Bebita. And we're all so proud of you for it." 

“Just doing my best to help the family," she said leaning into Hank's side. 

They wrapped up the meeting, but no one stood before Marcus. He finished his cigarillo quietly after the gavel fell. Then he stood and slowly removed his kutte. He folded it in half and walked around the table to Megan's seat. "Here, Poquito. Hold on to this for me until I need it again." He laid it on the table in front of her. "Keep it safe." 

Megan stroked the worn leather with her good hand. "Of course, Tío." She smiled up at him. 

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Good girl." All the men stood up to give him hugs as he walked out of Templo without his kutte for the first time since he founded the Mayans M.C. 

Back in the bar, Hank, Megan and Taza said their good nights and headed back to the ranch for the night. When they got home, Rex was waiting for them on the front porch. As soon as Megan was off the bike, the huge dog was there sniffing Megan all over. She scratched his ears and kissed his head. "Good boy. Sorry we left you so long, buddy." 

Hank smiled. "Next time, we'll just send the prospect for him." 

"Or Chucky," Taza agreed. 

Megan unpacked Marcus ' Kutte from the saddlebag gently. "I'll hang this in our closet." 

 "Good idea, mi princessa," Hank kissed her softly and then led the way inside. 

While Hank and Megan showered, Taza ordered pizza. None of them had the energy for much after a long day. They didn't even turn on the television while they ate. 

"Mi amore, are you sure you got enough pizza? You only ate one slice," Hank asked Megan when she put down her plate. 

Megan smiled at him. "Yes, Hank. I'm sure. We had a big lunch and breakfast. I'm just too tired to eat anymore." 

He nodded and shifted on the couch so that she could curl into his side while he finished eating. “Alright, mi reina. We'll go to bed soon." 

Taza grinned. "And the Prospect picked up my order at the record store today- noise canceling headphones that connect to my stereo in my room." He chuckled." Apparently I should be able to walk all the way to the barn and them not disconnect." 

Hank laughed as Megan's face heated and she hid it in Hank's shirt. "Papa!" 

"What, Chica?" Taza laughed as his burner phone buzzed on the coffee table. He picked it up and checked the number before answering it on speaker. " Bish, you're on speaker. What's up?" 

"Hey. Sorry to disturb your night, but we're gonna have to call a Breakfast Templo again in the morning. Just got off the phone with Charming. Last shipment came in earlier than planned and accompanied by a full house. Gotta plan a major Reaper run and probably leave tomorrow afternoon." Bishop sounded exhausted himself. "Can you make sure Paquito has a go-bag for her and Rex ready? We're gonna need all hands on deck- especially our Armorer." 

"Course, Bish. We'll take care of it. What time do you need us?" Hank asked, squeezing Megan reassuringly.

"Full Templo at seven? Officers by six thirty?" Bishop suggested. 

"We'll be ready, Tío. See you then," Megan said with a nod. 

"Good Girl, Paquito. Your Papa and Hank know the drill. See you tomorrow." He hung up. 

" Well-this should be interesting" Taza sighed, sitting back in his chair. 

"Papa? What did Tío Bishop mean the shipment was accompanied by a full house '?" Megan asked as she began tidying up the pizza boxes. 

"It means, Chica, that the leaders of the True IRA are stateside with this shipment. They call them the Kings." 

Hank nodded. "They're probably here to meet the people they'll be working with. IRA never work with people they don't know." 

"Shit," Megan cursed. "Adelita can't go that far north and she won't let that many people to the camp with the Feds on our tails. How're we gonna play that out?" 

Hank smiled softly at her. "Calm, Princessa. They don't care about that. They want to meet us- not our shipping partners. They want to meet the people doing the selling- not the assembly line." 

Her shoulders sagged in relief. 

"Alright, Chica. Let's get you ready for your first official run," Taza guided her gently towards the hallway. 

They used Megan's battered leather backpack for her go bag. Luckily- she had plenty of travel sized toiletries left. They packed three days worth of clothes- rolled tightly- a small jewelry box for storing her jewelry at night, and her basic hair supplies. She was very good at getting everything down to the bare minimum. Taza did have to remind her several times that it was okay to take things with her. Eventually, the men were more than satisfied with the way she packed for herself. 

Then it was time to pack for Rex. Megan swapped out his collar for the one with longer spikes so she wouldn't forget and packed the temporary bowls from their last trip. She hung his harness and leash on the hook with her kutte. Taza filled Ziploc bags with his food and put them in another old backpack along with one of his rope toys. 

"Papa, how will Rex come along if we're taking the bikes?" Megan asked. 

"Creeper drives the van on long runs like this, sweet Chica. Rex will ride along with him. For that matter- when you get tired- you can too. We'll set you up a spot in there to rest. It's a long ride." Taya smiled gently at her. "We can even fit a bike in the back of the van when we need to." 

Hank came out to settle all three of their backpacks on the bench by the mudroom. "I already texted Creep. He's gonna meet us here with the van at six to load up." He pressed a kiss to the side of Megan's neck. "We can pile some pillows and blankets on the bench seat. Maybe make it a regular thing." 

Taya nodded. "Can't hurt. How many times has one of us had to sleep in the van as guard?" 

Megan grabbed some of the woven Apache blankets and put them by the door too. "Should I put something in the crockpot for breakfast? I could do crockpot French Toast so the officers have something hot when they get there..." 

Hank and Taza looked at her in amazement. "You can do that, Chica?" Taya asked. 

Megan giggled. "Sí Papa. I can even do a breakfast casserole instead if you'd rather. That would actually use up the groceries that would spoil better." 

Hank chuckled. "Let's do that. If we all chop- it will be quick." 

They moved to the kitchen and Megan put Hank to frying sausage and bacon while she and Taza chopped onions, peppers and tomatoes. Once everything was done, Megan threw it all in the crock pot with a bag of frozen hash browns and cheese. She whisked the last of the eggs and milk together with spices and poured it in the crockpot before setting the timer and smiling. "There. Now we have a hot breakfast." She looked very satisfied with herself. 

Taya finished loading the dishwasher and turned it on. "Sweet Chica, I think we need another crock pot for next time." 

Megan giggled. "Okay, Papa." 

Hank pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Bedtime?"

Taza watched Megan as she started putting the salsa and other condiments in a bag in the fridge. "Chica... Are you wired again?" 

She froze before looking over her shoulder sheepishly at him. "Kinda..." 

He chuckled. "Alright, Sweet Chica, I'm going to head to bed- with my new headphones- and let Hank settle you enough to sleep." He pulled her in for a quick hug and kissed her forehead. "Love you, Megan. Sweet dreams." 

Megan hugged him tight around the waist. "Love you, too, Papa." 

Once Tazya was behind his firmly closed bedroom door, Hank grinned. "Rex can sleep out here, mi reina. Let's get you some sleep." 

She giggled and told Rex to stay in his living room dog bed. She knew once he got her to sleep, Hank would crack the bedroom door to let the big dog roam freely just like he did most nights. 

In the bedroom, Hank drew Megan in for a deep kiss. She went willingly enough. When they both ran out of breath, he reached to pull her leggings and tank-top off. "On the bed, mi princessa. Your back is in knots. You can't ride like that." 

Megan crawled up onto the bed and sat- slightly confused. 

Hank chuckled and stripped his own shirt before twirling his forefinger at her. "On your tummy." He couldn't help but lean down to kiss her pout. "You heard me..." 

"What's going on?" Megan asked puzzled. 

"You are going to lay on your tummy on the bed and let me start unraveling the knots your muscles are in, mi amore." He grabbed her lotion. 

"But... I thought..." 

Hank smiled gently at her and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. "And I'm not saying no. I'm just saying this first, Princessa. Your body has had a hard day between the horses, the shooting, and the tension of Templo. Let me soothe it first- then we'll see what happens." 

Megan found herself nodding as she realized he was right. She hadn't ridden a horse in a long time. She was saddle sore. Add in the snake and the shooting- her muscles were probably going to cramp if she didn't let Hank help, and those cramps would hurt like hell on her already healing body. "Alright, Hank." She turned and laid herself face down across their bed.

"Good girl," Hank purred before he joined her. "Let me know if I press too hard, mi amore." He pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck and shoulders as he settled himself on his knees straddling her thighs. Gooseflesh dappled her skin and he opened the tub of lotion to warm some in his hands before gliding them carefully over her skin. He started gently working the knots from her neck and shoulders. He was careful not to apply pressure on the newly healed collar bone or her ribs. Instead he used his massive hands to gently coax each knot to loosen. 

Megan couldn't help it. She moaned softly as her shoulders went limp for what felt like the first time in weeks. 

Hank smiled softly and kissed her skin. “That 'a girl, mi reina.” He ran his knuckles down each side of her spine forcing the tension to release and Megan to moan again. "Does that feel good?" 

"God yes..." she groaned out as he used his thumbs to work the knot at the base of her spine. 

"Good. Wanna try one more thing, okay. Gonna release the tension in your head." Hank ran soothing hands up and down her back. He slipped one giant hand into the hair at the base of her skull and gripped gently. "Take a deep breath for me, princessa. I'm gonna pull, but not hard. Deep breath and hold it." 

Megan nodded softly and then did as Hank asked. She took a deep breath in through her nose and held it. 

Hank carefully exerted pressure on her hair pulling it gently. "And out, mi amore." 

As Megan slowly released the breath, he slowly released the tension on her hair and rubbed her scalp. "You alright?" he asked quietly. 

"Mmm hmm..." 

"Good girl. You stay as relaxed as you can. I'm gonna turn you over, okay?" 

"Kay." Megan sounded kind of spaced out but she was completely relaxed beneath him. 

He gently turned her over so she was on her back before turning the lamps on and the overhead light off. He put her lotion back on her vanity and then joined her back in bed, cuddling her close to his bare chest. They were both only in their underwear and he felt what seemed like miles of her soft skin against him. "How're you feeling now, Princessa? Sleepy?" 

Megan's small fingers began tracing his tattoos across his warm skin. "A little, but not ready for sleep yet." 

Hank nuzzled her hair gently as he held her close. “That's alright, mi amore." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and spoke against her skin. "Still want more or would you rather try to rest?" 

Megan smiled against his skin and kissed his chest. "You should probably sleep soon. You're the one driving tomorrow. I'm just the passenger." 

He chuckled a little. "I'll be alright. Besides- we won't ride straight through this time. We'll probably sleep at a motel overnight so we’re sharp when we meet the Irish." His hands wandered a bit more on her skin and he stroked her ribs and the side of her breast with his thumb. "Use your words, Princessa. Do you want more? Your body- your choice." 

Megan pressed her face against his shoulder as her skin heated. Hank cradled her close with the arm she was laying on and teased his fingers along the waistband of her panties. "Are you wet, Princessa?" He tugged gently at her only piece of clothing and his voice dropped to a slight growl. "Do you want to cum for me?" 

Megan whined and squirmed. "Please, Hank..." 

"Please what, Princessa? Want my fingers? My mouth? My cook? Use your words, baby, and I'll give you whatever you want..." 

She tilted her hot face up until she met his dark eyes with hers. "Yes. Want you. All of you." 

He chuckled. "Nice try, Gonna tell me what you want one way or another." He cupped her jaw and tilted her face up to his and planted a kiss on her lips. 

Megan whined. "Please Hank. Don't tease." 

He smiled. "Only a tease if I don't follow through... eventually." He tugged her panties down. planting wet kisses down her skin as he went. He took his time running his calloused hands over her skin as she squirmed. When her good hand started clenching the covers beneath her, he gently pried it off and interlocked his fingers with hers. "Ready to choose, mi amore?" 

Megan nodded as she tried to catch her breath. 

Hank smiled and pressed a kiss to her hip bone before moving up to face her. He kept hold of her left hand and met her lips for a kiss. When he finally pulled back to breathe, Megan squeezed his hand. "Empty. Wan' your fingers." 

Hank sucked in a breath sharply before he covered her face in kisses. "Good girl. I knew you could do it," he murmured. He guided her fingers to his hair with a smile before sliding his hand down her side. He gently parted her folds and stroked her. She was dripping. He teased her entrance with his middle finger and found her clit with his thumb before he slipped it inside of her. When he started to move, he caught Megan's breathy moan with a deep kiss. He kept his movements purposefully slow. Her hand in his hair tightened and she threw her head back with a cry when he added another finger. "There ya go, Princessa.” He could feel her tensing as her internal muscles tried to drag his fingers deeper. She was so close. He crooked his fingers to rub along her front wall and was rewarded with another cry. "Right there? Does that feel good, mi reina?" At her nearly frantic nod, he grinned. "You are so close, baby. Gonna cum so hard on my fingers." He kissed down her throat to suck a mark at the top of her breast, before capturing one of her nipples to suckle. The next time he crooked his fingers, he pressed hard on the spot that she liked and Megan detonated. 

Her back arched sharply and she choked on her scream. 

Hank worked her through it, coaxing as much pleasure from her body as he possibly could before gentling her through the come down. "There we go. Good girl." He used his other hand to pull her close to his chest and soothe her tremors while keeping his fingers still inside her. Once Megan could breathe again and the shaking had eased, he felt small hands tugging at his underwear. He chuckled. "Want something, mi reina?" 

"You. Inside me." 

Hank wiggled his fingers inside her gently to make her breath catch. "I am inside you," he teased. 

Megan growled and yanked insistently at the cotton covering his cock. She managed to yank them down far enough to wrap her hand around him and coaxed a moan from his amused lips. 

"Alright, mi reina," he kissed her deeply and eased his fingers out of her as she whined. He shucked his underwear quickly before guiding her leg over his hip so he could press inside her slowly while keeping her snuggled to his chest. He couldn't suppress the growl of satisfaction once he paused to let her body adjust. "You are so wet, mi amore. So perfect." He tilted her face up to kiss her as he waited for her body to tell him he could move. 

She whined a bit at the oversensitivity, but rocked her hips against him. 

He picked up her rhythm and met her with gentle thrusts as he watched her eyelids flutter with exhaustion and pleasure. "Think you can cum again for me?" he whispered against her lips. "I'm not gonna last long." He hitched her top leg higher on his hip and pressed deeper inside her with a grinding motion. 

Megan gasped softly and nodded, wrapping her arm around him to pull him closer. 

Hank kept his thrusts slow and deep. He watched her face until he had to bury his own in her hair. He slipped a hand between them to thumb circles over her puffy clit. "Cum for me, Princessa," he whispered and felt her shudder through a climax as he let go. 

Once his breathing evened out, Hank gently pulled out. Megan gave a sleepy whine and buried her face in his chest. He glanced down at her, only to realize she was fast asleep.

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