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28
Ash
Sin and Salvation is hopping,like it usually is. The music is loud, and the people are loose. There are bodies grinding on the dance floor, hands wandering, and the air is thick with the feeling of anticipation and arousal.
It’s my element, and usually I’m right there in the mix. Tonight, I’m working, so I wander over to the bar, watching as Celia, the bartender who also manages the bar, makes drinks for a giggling couple with her usual flair.
They pay and hurry off to find a corner, and I step up, taking their place.
“Business or pleasure tonight, Ash?” Celia asks.
She knows me well, and while it might not be like Gage to drink on the job, I’ve never had a problem mixing the two aspects of my life.
“Business tonight,” I say, flashing her a smile. “Just checking in.”
“All quiet tonight. Well, quiet as it can be. We’re running low on the good gin, though.”
“I’ll make a note for supply. Anything else?”
“Can I get a raise?”
I roll my eyes. “Anything else realistic?”
Celia makes a face at me and then shakes her head. “Not that I can think of. It’s shaping up to be a good night.”
“Great. That’ll keep Gage happy.” I rap my knuckles against the bar and she gives me a little salute before heading down the bar to take someone else’s order.
I make my way through the crush of people to the hallway that leads to the back office. The door closes behind me as I enter it, muffling the noise of music and people enough that I can hear myself think again, and I go sit at the desk to finish up some paperwork.
It’s usually Gage’s place to sit. His ‘throne’ as Knox usually jokes. But we all pull our weight around here. I’m better with people, so I tend to be the one to check on the dancers and bartenders, making sure they have what they need. Every once in a while, though, I get my hands dirty with paperwork.
I go over the supply lists for the next week, adding a note about the gin and upping our usual order since we’re going through it faster.
Every so often, I pause to spin the pen in my fingers, twirling it in intricate patterns with ease before writing down something else.
Usually, this kind of work is boring but at least active enough that I don’t fall asleep doing it. It’s the kind of shit that has to be done one way or another. But tonight, my mind doesn’t want to focus on numbers and neat little budgeting columns.
Instead, I’m thinking about River. And Priest, of all people.
I’m thinking about how River looked on Priest’s piano, spreading herself open and touching herself just inches from his face like she wasn’t afraid he might snap and kill her right there.
She’s a brave little thing, that’s for sure.
It was hot as fuck, watching her through the gap in the door. She didn’t close it all the way when she went in there to bother Priest.
I was ready to intervene when he got up from the piano like he was going to hurt her, but instead, he just threw her down on the couch and made her fall apart. Just seeing her arching and gasping for breath while he held her down and made her come was…
Fuck.
It was hot as hell.
Not everyone could take that. Or would get off on it.
But River was into it. It looked like it made her come harder, how rough he was with her.
It’s just more proof that there’s something about her brokenness that fits with ours.
I’ve known Priest since we were both young, but he hasn’t been the same for years. He just shut down after Jade died. None of us have pushed him by trying to make him change or telling him he needs to move on. Just like none of the others really give me shit for being a man whore. We just accept each other as we are and have each other’s backs no matter what.
