Allison stares at the ceiling in the dark. She knows that she needs to sleep, but she can't. Hours later, she still feels his touch on her body, still remembers the way they tumbled over one another in their haste to explore everything they've been forbidden to do. She glances out the window, at the moon shining brightly in the sky – still not full but getting nearer.
She doesn't know where Scott is right now – out in the woods, at home or somewhere else. Maybe he's staring up at his own ceiling. It doesn't matter. She wishes he were here, his fingers entwining with hers, his lips hot on her neck, his body pressed against hers. "Scott," she breathes, almost a sigh. She's afraid to speak any louder, here in her father's house.
Her hand drifts below her sleep shirt, smoothing across her stomach the way Scott's hands had done. "Yes, just like that," she says. If she can't actually have him here, she can pretend. Her fingers move over her naked breast, pebbling the nipple. She gasps, quietly, and takes the nipple between her fingers. It sends a jolt through her, right to her clitoris, and she takes the other hand and slips it beneath her panties to touch herself tentatively. She's already so sensitive that her pelvis flames with a single touch.
"Right there," she sighs, "feel how wet I am for you," and she smooths a finger down between her folds just as she wishes Scott were doing. Her fingers travel further, at first dipping and then working in and out of her opening, one finger, two fingers, her thumb stroking her clitoris in rhythm, her breaths getting faster, her heart thumping in her chest.
She's incoherent now, her mind filled with declarations of love and desire that she wants to shout to the world. "Scott... oh god... Scott!"
Her orgasm breaks over her, and she trembles with release. It isn't enough, it won't be enough until she can feel him inside her for real. She is determined – somehow, some way, they are going to be together. She finally drifts off, a small smile on her lips.
In the hall the next morning, she gives Scott a small smile and an affectionate "hey," but doesn't stop to talk to him. They can't be seen together in public, not while making her promise to her dad seem real. Who knows who might be watching and reporting back to him?
But suddenly Scott is in front of her, and she blinks in shock. She still isn't used to his preternatural speed. "Allison," he says, his voice breaking oddly.
She looks into those brown, puppy-dog eyes, her head tilting with curiosity. "What?"
"I..." He looks around, in all directions, then he pulls her into a side hall where less people are. In a low voice, he says, "I heard you."
She blinks again. "What?"
"Last night. When you were..." His face flushes with color and he shifts awkwardly. "...touching yourself."
Her mouth opens in a small 'oh.' Then she blushes, giggling. "Really?" With a sly smile, she adds, "Were you on the roof?"
"No!" he says with a swift shake of his head. "But I was close enough... to hear."
"I see..." She leans close to his ear. "Did you like what you heard?"
He nods, his hair brushing her lips.
"There's more where that came from." She winks at him, and without waiting for a reaction, turns and heads for class. The next period starts in a couple of minutes, and they've already been talking alone longer than they should have been. She wishes she could see the look on his face as she walks away.
Two periods later, they have a class together. She gets there after he does, and makes sure to take a seat on the opposite side of the room and at the back. He frowns slightly, and Stiles, who is sitting behind him, gives her an approving nod. Since she discovered Scott’s secret, she’s learned just how involved Stiles is in the whole werewolf thing. Her dad is slightly less suspicious of Stiles, so he makes a good go-between when they need to communicate, especially since her mom or dad check her texts every night.
As she sits, she notices they have a substitute today. There's a terse note on the board: "SILENT READING." She's had this lady before (she means business), so she sighs and pulls out the novel she's been working on. She doesn't get very far – her eyes keep passing over the same words repeatedly without a single one sinking in.
She glances over at Scott. He looks like he's trying to read as unsuccessfully as she is. A wicked thought pops into her head, and she hides a grin. "Scott," she says, subvocalizing the words. "Can you hear me?" Not even the person in front of her should be able to hear her, she uses so little breath or movement.
But Scott does. His head jerks up and he turns to look at her, frowning.
"Reading, Mr. McCall," the sub says. That was all the warning he would get.
"Good," she says, and he doesn't turn this time. "You know what I would do if I had you alone right now?"
She sees him tense, just the slightest bit.
"I would slowly pull down the zipper on those tight jeans. With my teeth."
"Then I would push them down, and get rid of those flimsy boxer-briefs – it's not fair that I never got to see more than that the other night – so that the 'little wolf' can roam free."
His hands grip the sides of his legs, the tendons standing out. She feels a thrill at how much she's affecting him, knowing she can't push this too far, not when it risks both detention and his secret.
But she can’t resist just one more. "And then, instead of my mouth, I would take you in my hand, and slowly stroke you until you got harder, and harder..."
There is a tearing sound suddenly. A couple of heads pop up wondering where it came from. Stiles looks at Scott, then turns to look her and mouths, "What the hell are you–?"
"Mr. Stilinski," the sub says, more sharply than before.
“Reading, I know,” he says, his voice squeaking a little as he gives Allison an I-can’t-believe-you sort of look.
The rest of the period passes somehow. When the bell rings, Scott is up and out of his seat immediately, pushing past everyone in his way to get out of the room. Stiles hardly waits until they’re both in the hall before pulling her aside. “What did you do to my boy?”
Allison looks down the hall the way Scott went, but he’s already out of sight. “Just...” She shakes her head and smiles. “It’s between me and Scott. Ask him if you want.” She walks away from him, fighting a huge grin. She’s more than a little amused by the thought of how that conversation might go.
“Fine,” he shouts after her. “I’ll ask Scott!”
She suddenly finds Jackson in her way, his face filled with disgust. “Jesus, Allison. I was in the class next door.”
“If you’re going to dirty talk to your little boyfriend...” He grimaces. “...do it somewhere far, far away from me.” With a dramatic full-body shudder, he continues past her to his next class.
Her fingers tap the steering wheel impatiently on the drive home from school. Scott has lacrosse practice, or else she would find a way to meet him, her parents be damned. She decides to take the scenic route. Why hurry home? She doubts she can concentrate on her homework anyway.
Suddenly, a figure appears in front of her on the road. She yelps and hits the brakes, trying to keep the car from swerving off into the ditch. Once she manages to correct enough to pull over safely to the side, the person is gone. Did she just imagine it? She can’t make that assumption, not with the werewolf problem in Beacon Hills. She fumbles for the crossbow under the seat.
As she sits back up, the drivers’ side door opens, and she’s ready. “Whoa!” yells Scott, stumbling back. “Haven’t I been through enough today already?” He gestures at his jeans, which have ten wolf-claw-sized gouges in them.
She sees the teasing glint in his eye, and lowers the weapon with a relieved laugh. “Am I glad to see you.” She gets out of the car, and wraps her arms around him. They stand there for a few minutes, just rocking back and forth. When she pulls back, she asks, “I thought you had lacrosse.”
He looks down and shuffles his feet. “Coach kicked me out. Said I if I couldn’t focus, I might as well not even play. That he might need to rethink the whole co-captain thing.”
“Aww.” She touches his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
He smirks at her. “No, you’re not.” When she doesn’t deny it, he continues. “It made Jackson happy. He whispered something at me, like, ‘Tell Allison I take it back, if this is the result.’ Whatever that means.”
“It means...” She kisses him softly on his earlobe. “That we have to find a way to solve your distraction.”
He pulls her close, almost devouring her, lips and hands everywhere. She reaches behind her to open the door, to get them out of the open like this, but he stops her. “No, your dad caught us last time.” She feels her feet leave the ground, as he lifts her easily. “I know a better place...”
She holds tightly to his neck as he runs through the trees. She knows he could run faster on all fours, but even this is faster than she’s ever moved outside of a car. Somehow he keeps branches from whipping her in the face. Several minutes later he sets her down near a rock overlooking a wide swath of pristine forest, far from any roads, any buildings. She’s a little worried about her unlocked car, with her purse and phone inside, but the thrill of no one else knowing where they are overwhelms it.
Once he’s in her arms again, it’s as if no time at all has passed since last night. They stumble across the soft bed of pine needles underfoot, her clothes disappearing so fast she’s surprised he isn’t tearing them off with his claws. She takes the chance to pull his jeans off, too, hooking her fingers through the tears at his thighs. They rip open farther as she pulls, a strangely satisfying sound. He can’t wear them again anyway.
He growls, low and plaintive, as her hands find his bare skin. Her eyes flash up to his. He’s still quite human, just a tinge of gold passing across his irises as he regards her. She gives him an answering groan and his smile is all teeth before he attacks her neck with kisses again.
He lowers her to the ground, their discarded clothes forming a makeshift blanket. She briefly wonders why she isn’t cold, but the heat of his body mixes with the heat of her desire and she’s caught up in sensation again.
His fingers slip beneath her bra, and she moans a soft, “Yes.”
As he moves to unhook it, he murmurs between kisses, “You don’t have to be quiet anymore, not out here.”
“I know...” It’s just so hard to believe, after all the sneaking around, all the worry. She worries that they’re still not safe from intrusion even out in the middle of nowhere.
He seems to read her thoughts. “I’ll hear if anyone comes,” he says, slipping up one loosened cup and taking her tender nipple into his mouth.
A much louder groan erupts from her throat, and he hums in approval. His palm drifts below the elastic band of her panties, pausing for just a moment before a finger glides between her folds. She moans again, even more loudly.
“Oh, god, Allison,” he says in a thick voice. “This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” He kisses his way across to the other breast while his finger moves in and out of her opening. “For me to feel how wet you are for me?”
“Yes...” She comes to her senses enough to work her hand below his boxer-briefs. “...but that wasn’t all I wanted.” Her hand wraps around his cock, already hard. He gasps, and she begins to pump in time to the rhythm he’s setting with his own fingers. “You remember this?”
“Hnnngh...” The sound he’s making is almost inhuman now. “How could I forget?”
The tension is building so fast; she’s been halfway to orgasm all day. “Scott,” she says, his name a moan.
Her hand stops caressing him. “I think we’d better...”
“Stop?” He stills his ministrations, confused. “There’s no one around for miles, as far as I can tell.”
She shakes her head, and turns over to dig in the pocket of her jacket. “No.” She pulls a gold-covered condom out where he can see.
He sits back, embarrassed and a little surprised. “Ohhh.” He reaches for it, but she snatches it back.
“I’ll do it.” She hasn’t had much practice, but it’s more than Scott has had. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him down, getting rid of first his underwear, then hers. The way he shudders when she rolls the condom over his length makes her want him inside her as soon as possible.
As he positions himself at her entrance, he asks, “Are you sure?”
Even though her answer is no different than the last two times, she answers, “I’m surer than ever, Scott. You?”
With a wink he echoes the same answer he always gives. “You’re asking me?”
And with that, he begins to push inside her, his cock filling her deeply. She thrusts against him, trying to take as much of him in as she can.
"Allison," he exhales, and the timbre of his voice has changed. Her eyes pop open with astonishment, but she doesn't see growing hair, lengthening incisors. His fingers dig into the ground to either side of her, and his whole body pulses up and down, fluid with grace and power. This sight, added to the sound and feeling of him, is driving her, well, wild. She throws her head back and lets out a primal groan to join his.
She slides one of her hands down to rub at her clit, making little sounds of pleasure each time he pounds into to her. Faster now, ever faster, until she thinks she will burst.
And she does, coming with a jerk and crying out with a loud shout. Something about the way she looks or sounds, or probably even smells, makes him thrust into her harder until his orgasm overtakes him as well.
An inhuman sound rises from his throat – an honest to goodness howl. That might be too on the nose, but it is the only way she can describe it in her state of incoherent desire. An odd thought crosses her mind – if they had had sex before she knew his secret, she surely would have figured it out right then.
She caresses his cheek gently while she feels him pulse and soften inside her. She holds him for a long moment before speaking. "Are you okay...?"
"Okay?" He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I'm way better than okay. That was amazing." He kisses her deeply to make his point.
"For a first time," she teases. "Now that I know the wolf likes to join in, we'll have to be more adventurous."
His mouth drops open. "More a–ad..."
She kisses him to save him further awkwardness.
On the way back to her car, she asks, "Do you think any of the... pack... heard us?"
"God, I hope not. I mean, I never heard Derek when he... if he... that is..." He can't seem to finish the sentence.
But once they're back in cell service, his phone buzzes with a text. He takes one look at the screen and turns bright red. She takes it from him and bursts into laughter at the message. It's from Jackson. "WTF, McCall! Get a room. NO. Get another STATE."