Landon was finishing up the main bar and he offered Gregory a gleaming smile when he reached him. Callum came up alongside him and slid under the pass, quickly setting to work on chopping up limes.
“That new?” he asked Landon, gesturing to his neck.
Landon’s hand instinctively reached to his throat and rubbed across the steel collar. It was something Gregory had seen him do no less than two dozen times in the past twelve hours. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him happy to see the way Landon’s eyes softened every time he remembered it was there.
“It’s new,” he confirmed.
“Looks good on you,” Callum said, his voice tinged with an edge of bitterness that Landon seemed to ignore.
“Thanks. How was inventory up there?”
Gregory handed Landon the papers to file along with the ones for downstairs.
“It’s super complicated stuff, boss. I see why you didn’t have me do it before.” Callum dropped a handful of sliced limes into the garnish container with a smirk.
“Har-har,” Landon retorted, retreating to his office.
Gregory followed him and leaned against the door frame, watching Landon set to entering the numbers into his tracking spreadsheet.
“You should go digital,” he said.
Landon looked up at him then pointed at the computer. “Isn’t this digital?”
“I mean get a fucking tablet or something, Landon. It’s 2018.” Gregory rolled his eyes. “Save a tree and all that, you know?”
“Huh,” Landon said, leaning back in his chair.
“Huh?”
“Huh,” Landon repeated. “I’d never thought of it. That’s a good idea.”
Gregory laughed and shook his head.
“You should take a Corona off the list because I’m about to go grab one.”
“Make it two,” Landon said, making a show of hitting the delete button and re-keying in the total.
Gregory grabbed two beers from the fridge and two sliced limes off Callum’s cutting board, then retreated into Landon’s office, pulling the door closed with a solid click.
With his forefinger, he shoved the limes into the neck of the bottle and set them both on the edge of Landon’s desk.
“What time is it?” he asked, taking his wallet and phone out of his pants and placing them on the desk near his beer.
“Seven-thirty,” Landon said with a lick of his lips.
Gregory very slowly and deliberately pulled the navy blue bandana from his left pocket and shook it out from its normal, folded state.
“Drop your pants,” he said, leaning over the desk and rubbing the material in his hand over Landon’s lips.
Landon fumbled his belt and zipper until his pants were around his ankles, and he flattened his palms on top of the desk.
“Open,” Gregory commanded.
Landon lowered his jaw and Gregory forced the bandana into his mouth then moved behind him, aligning their bodies.
Landon whined against the gag, then arched his back in a deliberate and sexual display. Gregory slapped his palm against Landon’s ass once, then twice, not hard, but enough to pink the skin slightly. Landon leaned into Gregory’s hand and he made another choked sounding whimper.
Gregory hit him harder, then dug his fingers into the hot flesh of Landon’s ass. He sank his teeth into the thin skin at the back of Landon’s neck. He sucked a bruise into the skin and snaked his other hand between their bodies, tracing the outside of Landon’s hole in a tight swirl.