REAPING INNOCENCE ◦ STILINSKI [3]

INTERLUDE: TWO

"Carter?"

Without a beat of hesitation, she stepped in the shower with him and turned the water back on while he slowly shut the door, still in shock. He began to question whether or not this was real, praying to God with all of his might that it was real.

She was a ghost—a ghost from his past. One that still made him shiver. And when it came to ghosts, you only had two options: to leave them in their grave...or allow them to be resurrected.

And he had no intensions on leaving her in the grave of their many memories.

He looked at her with a baffled expression still painted on his face as she faced the water and pushed her wet hair out of her face with her hands. Steam was rising around them quickly, and it wasn't the only thing rising. He was trying to keep himself under control—feeling a throbbing desire to touch her...to kiss her, but struggled to restrain himself. Last night's events were bad enough. He didn't want to push his luck.

Carter still had her back turned to him, hot water pouring over her naked body. He tried acting cool by crossing his arms over his chest. Since he was naked, he didn't have any pant pockets to put his hands in and he was restraining from touching her. His hands had nowhere to go but to his chest.

"Ah, I miss this," Carter said, still facing the shower-head. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warmth of the water—drawling over the way it made her body relax. She needed this.

"You miss having a shower? Hmm, so do you not take showers back in Beacon Hills? You're a dirty girl, Carter." At that point, he regained his composure and turned on his cocky attitude—something she was used to. He had a sly smirk on his lips as his left hand reached across the shower to lean against the wall. His right hand casually lying against his thigh.

Carter finally turned and looked him in the eye, a soft smile on her face.

"No—I shower no matter what town I'm in. What I meant was that I miss everything. I'm actually glad that I caught you when you were in the shower." Carter leaned in and pressed her sleek body lightly against his in a kind of hug. Except instead of her arm going around his body, her palms were against his bare chest, feeling his heart pounding beneath her right palm. "I miss your smell...your touch. Its been so long since my last visit, it just doesn't feel or even mean the same when you're constantly fighting for your life." She paused, letting out a relieved sigh. "Ever since you and Raeven rescued me, all I could think about is all of the horrible things I've done and how much I regret every single one of them. You're probably wondering why I show up in your bathroom and join you in the shower."

"Well, it's not the first time. But, I just thought it was because of my devilish good looks."

Carter laughed, a rich and joyous sound—something she hadn't done in so long.

"I was sick of living the past—caught up in things I couldn't change—reliving the horrors of my past. So, I decided to enjoy the positive feelings to balance myself out. Starting with you...your smell...your gentle touch..." she smiled up at him, putting her hands softly on his face. And it was at that point that he couldn't resist any longer. He leaned in and kissed her, long and softly on the lips. Carter wasn't sure if it was the actual steam around them, but there was something about kissing in a shower that felt so...hot.

He always had that affected on me, she thought.

To his relief, Carter kissed him back. She put her arms around his neck, pulling him toward her and into the hot water. She broke away from his mouth, looking him in the eyes.

"I missed your kisses, too. And in case you're worried, you should know that I don't hate you. Everything you and Raeven did last night was to help me. You were smart to do what you did."

And with that, Carter kissed him as he pushed her against the shower wall. The kiss was so overly him; strong, fierce, passionate, soft, frightening, loving, frantic and controlled—all rolled into one sensation. With increasing urgency, she ran her hands up his muscular back and through his hair, doing everything she could to pull him closer to her. Needing to feel more of him, she moved closer, gasping in his mouth when their bodies touches. He pulled away, allowing her to breathe, and instead, started placing kisses on her neck, over her collarbone and across her chest. Each place he kissed burned with fierce intensity and made her feel alive—something she hadn't felt since Allison died. Tenderly, he reached up and brushed a stray piece of wet hair out of her eyes before cupping her cheek in his hand. She leaned into his touch, relishing the way his skin felt on hers. He kissed her wet naked body all over. Each kiss sent a tingle through her body that was more pleasurable than the last. He kissed his way down to her naval, and didn't stop there. She gripped onto his jet-black hair, consuming herself in the tingling sensations.

He spread her legs apart and kissed the inside of her thighs, the unexpected contact caused her back to arch, water pouring down their bodies as he stood back up straight. A strangled moan drifted up into the air, one of many that night. With their hearts beating rapidly, bodies throbbing with pleasure, he lifted Carter so that her legs were straddled around his waist and off the shower floor. He pressed her back against the wall and whispered in her ear.

"I missed this too."

Him and Carter had a long and complicated relationship—using one another for several different things. Sexual release, to lend a willing ear, a shoulder to cry on, partner in crime—they had done it all. But that night, it was different.

She didn't need the release. She needed to forget.

So, he helped her—pleasing her long and slow, making sure the memories of the previous months of torture were faded away by the feeling of him. The depth of lust and desire and passion conveyed in his eyes was all for her—and she loved it. They were one body, but what she hadn't expected was for it to feel like he was touching her heart, grasping the burnt organ in his hands and filling it with color and life. He wanted her to only remember the time in the shower. The sex was part of it, but the moments of shear passion with him were another thing entirely. If she ever found herself drowning in her pain and self-hatred—he wanted to give her something to remember. Remember all their old memories and sensations. He wanted to make that a moment that neither of them would ever forget.