Beautiful Scamp

“I’m not going to leave, Scamp.”

Her eyes meet mine, searching, hopeful. Then they turn dark. “And if you go to prison again?”

I shake my head. “That won’t happen. I don’t work for your father anymore. I served my time, got a business degree on the inside, didn’t say a word against your family. When I got out, I found a job washing dishes in a restaurant downtown.”

“That suit wasn’t bought on a dishwasher’s salary,” she says suspiciously.

“No it wasn’t. I also made a few investments that paid off.”

Scamp falls silent, her chest rising and falling with each breath, pressing her tits out against the soft pink fabric of her top beneath the half-unzipped white hoodie. My cock has been hard since I started talking to her, but now it’s starting to get painful, pressed up against the waistband of my pants. The thought crosses my mind of thrusting it into the ample gap between those tits, as she pushes them together, of watching the helmet bob near her face as I work up enough cum to cover her from the strands of her pink hair to the tips of her toes.

“Shit,” she says suddenly. “I need to go. I have to collect Pip from her friend’s house. Her friend’s mom will be going spare.”

She turns and I step forward, grabbing at her arm and only catching hold of her sleeve. “Wait. I’ll call for a car. It will be here in ten minutes. We need to talk, Scamp,” I say, not willing to let her leave.

She eyes me, then a smirk plays at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you remember why you called me that? I can get to where I’m going faster than a car. But I’ll tell you what. You keep up with me, I’ll let you take me to lunch tomorrow.”

“Keep up with you? What do you—”

Before I can finish, she’s tugged her sleeve out of my hands and she’s off at a dead run for the end of the alley, where the fire escape twists up against the side of the building. I watch as she jumps, grabbing the rail and hauling herself up onto the platform. I get a flash of a small heart tattoo above her left butt cheek, and a view of her firm, round ass inside those cut-off shorts, and then she’s gone, clanging up the next flight of steps, heading for the roof.

Jesus, the girl is fit. Still the same little scamper I knew.

There’s no way I can do the kind of acrobatics I’d need to keep up with her, and by the time I call for a car she’ll be gone. So I do the only thing that makes any sense: run back out of the alley, heading for the other side of the building.

Chapter 3 – Scamp

I hate him and I love him.

How is that possible? He left, went out of my life without a word or a second thought. Yet, after all this time, he shows up, a man now but even sexier than the boy I knew, and stirs up all the same feelings I had when I was thirteen.

The feelings I can’t quite bring myself to admit never went away. It’s why I’ve never had a boyfriend, still holding onto my big V card, still pining over Valiant Garcia. A stupid teenage crush that went too far, perhaps, but now…

I might still be a teenager for another few months, but this is no crush. I’m fully aware of how dangerous it is for me to get involved with someone, especially right at this time in my life. Another month or two and before my twentieth birthday I’ll have enough money saved to get myself and Pip well away from Detroit, away from my father for good. And now, here’s Valiant, back again to throw a spanner in the works.

Away from him on the rooftops, I thought I’d be able to think clearly, to get him out of my head and come to my senses. Instead, all that’s going through my mind as I run full pelt for the gap between this building and the next is thoughts of him.

I saw the way he was looking at me, undressing me with his eyes, and I liked it. It made my skin tingle so hard it’s still tingling now. I wanted him to hold me, to rip the clothes from me, to get his strong, rough fingers in between my legs just as I’ve done so many times to thoughts of him. To tease my nipples with his teeth.

A little shiver passes through me as I go to make the jump, and kick off a fraction too soon, missing the next rooftop by a whisker, crying out as I haul myself up by my arms.

And spot him coming around the corner of the street, looking up at me as he sprints.