I smiled at her energy and attitude as I shook her hand.“Nice to meet you, Imogene Larson,” I said.“I can’t believe I just ran into you on the street here and thought I knew you. My gosh, I must sound like a complete idiot,” she said in a rushed, stream of consciousness manner. I could not help but smile.“You sound excited, not stupid. Would you care to join me?” I asked as I motioned toward the chair opposite me.Imogene glanced at her watch, looked up the street, and then nodded before sitting. “Thank you. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but I still can’t believe I just ran into you on the street. You must get tired of fans mobbing you all the time,” she said as she set a soft-sided bag on the ground next to her.“You’re actually the first person to notice me here in Monaco,” I said. “I’ve been coming out for a late morning coffee all week and no one has given me a second glance.”She smiled broadly. “I guess the sophisticated Europeans don’t want to fawn all over you. I. Dearg fell forward and caught himself upon his elbow. His whole heaving and panting body enveloped Seth's senses. Exhausted, breathless barbarian surrounded him on all sides, the perfect end to a wickedly fun romp. Once Dearg had sucked in a few lungfuls of air, he lurched over onto his back, off of Seth. His usual scowling face had softened into a satisfied slackness. Even a sour fellow such as he could not maintain his ill mood after such a grand fucking! Once Seth had caught his breath, he turned his head, grinning at the barbarian. "You didn't strangle me, after all." Dearg grunted, eyes already closing. Seth rolled onto him, hand splaying upon that great chest as it rose and fell. "You like me." Dearg's eyes cracked open, peering down at him. "You're a right annoying little shit, your lordship, you know that?" Seth giggled and left the barbarian to his rest, bouncing up and striding over to a robe hanging from one of the bedposts, a definite skip to his step. Dearg.
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