She didn’t answer me, just smiled broadly at me.

I watched her in silence while she filled the sink. Velvet was a woman I could spend hours looking at and never tire of the view. But I was interrupted this time by a chuckle in the hallway. I turned and grinned at who I found standing watching us.

Kick.

“Hey, brother,” I said, walking towards him.

“Nash, long time no see.” We hugged, slapping each other on the back. He pulled away and smirked at me. “I see you’ve finally found a woman to tame the asshole out of you.”

Velvet laughed. “I’m under no illusions. Nash does have his good points though, so I’m sticking around for those.”

Kick put his hands up. “I don’t want to hear anymore, darlin’. I’ll take your word on that.” He put his hand out to her and introduced himself, “The name’s Kick.”

She shook his hand. “Good to meet you. I’m Velvet.”

Recognition dawned on Kick’s face; I’d obviously mentioned her to him before. “Real good to meet you, darlin’.”

“What brings you to town?” I asked him.

“Club business.” It was clear he didn’t want to discuss it in front of Velvet.

I nodded. “How long you staying? I presume you’re staying here.”

“Yeah, brother. I don’t know how long yet.” He jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom he usually crashed in and I nodded. “I’m gonna crash for a few hours, man.”

“Sure. We’re going for a ride. Be back later this afternoon so I’ll catch you then.”

He focused on Velvet. “See you later, darlin’.”

She smiled. “Bye.”

Once he’d left us, she asked me, “Kick’s Storm, right? But not Brisbane?”

“Yeah, he’s Sydney chapter. We go back about eight years. He’s always had my back.”

Nodding, she said, “Okay, dishes and then I wanna cuddle up to the back of you on your bike.”

I curled my hand around her neck, and brushed my lips against hers. “Fuck, the things you say, baby.”

She rested her hand on my ass, and whispered, “The things I say have got nothing on the words that come out of your mouth.”

I grinned.

She was right.

***

I watched Velvet walk back into the bedroom, my eyes taking in the t-shirt of mine she was wearing. I’d just fucked her after she gave me a mind shattering blow job, and I was wondering why the hell she’d put clothes back on after cleaning up in the bathroom.

“What’s with the shirt, babe?”

She crawled onto the bed, positioning herself half on me and half on the bed. I put my arm around her and rested my hand on her ass, pulling the shirt up so I could feel skin.

“You’ve got a visitor in the house, Nash. I don’t want to be roaming around naked if I get up during the night.”

I chuckled. “Kick wouldn’t mind.”

“I’m just going to ignore you said that. Or better still, how about I take it off and go visit him in his room. You reckon he’d like that? And you’d be okay with that?”

“Fuck. Okay, woman, you win. I see your fuckin’ point,” I grumbled.

She fell quiet for a moment, before asking, “How did you meet Kick?”

“I met him in prison.”

She moved so that she was lying almost on her stomach with her arms resting on my chest. Her eyes met mine; questioning. This wasn’t something I ever spoke about; it was all new to her. “Because you were open about that, I’m going to assume you’re okay with talking about it but if not, just tell me to back off. What were you in prison for?”

I ran my hand over her hair as I answered her; I liked the constant contact with her when she was near. It helped calm my demons; the demons that pushed to the surface when I thought about this time in my life. “For assault.”

Her eyes were kind; she held no judgment. “How long were you there?”

“Two years.”

Silence surrounded us as she took it in, her eyes never leaving mine. She seemed to be weighing something up. Finally, she asked, “Nash, have you ever talked about this with anyone?”

“Yeah, babe.” I fought the rising anxiety, and focused on her in an effort to quiet it.

She chewed her lip and then wiggled her way up my body a little bit so that our faces were closer. Her warm breath settled on my skin as we stared at each other. When she reached her hand up to run her fingers through my hair, my anxiety calmed and I blew out a breath.

She saw me relax and smiled. “You okay, now?” she whispered.

It was in that moment, I realised Velvet knew what she was doing. I nodded. “You know?”

“That you’re suffering from anxiety?”

“Yeah,” I said, softly. Time slowed. My focus was entirely on Velvet; I saw only her. It was like the maddening assault of emotions and feelings quieted, and receded, allowing me full control over my attention for the first time in a long time.

“My mum suffered from it for years. I recognised the symptoms. Have you had it treated?”

“Yeah, baby,” I admitted, and then added, “You’re the only person I’ve told though, besides my doctor.”

“Your family don’t know?”

“I’m sure they realise, but it’s not something we talk about. They’ve tried to get me to, but talking about it brings up shit I don’t want to deal with.”