When you found out which hot springs resort some visiting brutes would be staying in Reykjavík, you booked a room, hoping to get a view of some beef. You ended up getting a lot more than a view when you rounded a corner as ROSCOE was grabbing the boots he'd left outside his room for cleaning. He caught you staring like a deer in headlights at his open robe. A moment later you were taking his length right there in the hallway, pressed up against the glass looking at the waterfalls as he released into your guts and then went back into his room without saying a word.