The Drummer's Girl - A Scallison AU

Scotty's Sleepness Nights

Can't keep my hands to myself....
I mean I could but why would I want to?
....................................................
Every time the two ended up in the same room, Scott and Allison found themselves choking on the need to ravish each other. Not an urge, but a need. No matter how she tried to resist, Allison simply could not keep her hands off Scott.

Before they'd broken up, they'd been intimate two or three times. But after the two had reunited, it seemed like Scott was spending every dollar he had to his name on protection.

As per usual, Allison hung back a little late after rehearsal. Stiles had figured out to make himself scarce after interrupting a very heated moment the week before and getting a beat-up combat shoe thrown at his face, so she knew he wouldn't be getting in the way that night.

Scott sat on his little stool, tightening and adjusting one of his drums. For all he knew, Allison just felt an extreme urge to organize all the papers that scattered the floor.

That is why, to Allison's delight, he was thoroughly shocked when he felt something hit his face. She did enjoy throwing things at the guys.

Upon laying eyes on the object, Scott felt his pulse speed up and a twitch in his pants. In his hands, tightly wound up, he held Allison's tee shirt. Slowly and with anticipation, he allowed his gaze to trail up the pair of long legs he found in front of him. First her boots, then her jeans, belt, and bare, toned stomach. How did he get so lucky?

Without a word, Scott began to reach out, wanting to feel her warm skin beneath his fingertips, but Allison grabbed his hand with lightning speed. She held it in a lock, and chuckled teasingly from above him.

"Not yet," she leaned down and purred into his ear, just above a whisper. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he listened to the heels of her boots clicking a few paces away. Oh god, was she going to leave him high and dry? No, she wouldn't. She couldn't. That would just be wrong.

Allison found pleasure in the way Scott fell into a daze, eyes still left close from when she'd whispered in his ear, and fought back a laugh with all her willpower. "Open up your eyes," her voice was all velvet and sexy, and Scott had no choice but to obey.

For the first time, he allowed his stare to linger on her chest, which dawned a lacy red bra that he allowed him to just know that this was planned. He couldn't believe she had been wearing that under her clothes for the past two hours.

He had to touch her. Through the sheer fabric, he could see her hardened nipples, and he needed to hold them in his hands. They deserved to be ravished. As if in a spell, he rose to his feet, the only sound heard being his breathing and the squeaking of his chair, only to be forced back down by the force of Allison's foot.

"Uh-uh," she bit her lip, only furthering bewitching him, "Not until I say so, okay?"

Scott could only gulp and nod, afraid that if he didn't cooperate, she would put her top back on and leave. He was not about to be left to take care of himself. Plus, they hadn't been together in the garage yet.

After receiving his promise, Allison reached behind her back, collar bones and pelvic bones protruding with the stretch, and unhooked the lingerie bound around her chest. To Scott's frustration, she didn't slip the straps off her shoulders. If only he could touch her, he'd have ripped it right off.

She took a stride toward him, the muscles in her abdomen shifting and her hips swinging. And then she was standing right before him again, and in her heeled boots, she towered above the sitting boy. With great ease and incredible grace, one leg seemingly floated to his other side, and she was straddling him without touching at all.