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Chapter Two: Fluff, Interrupted


Ashley

I stood in the bathroom later that morning, sideways, my shirt pulled up just under my boobs, staring at the curve of my stomach in the mirror. I was running my hand over it, trying to decide if I was showing or not yet. The stretchmarks hadn't even completely faded off from carrying Zoey yet. They were raw and pink and lined the bottom of my stomach like folded up accordians. I frowned.

Nick stuck his head around the bathroom door. "Hey," he said. He looked at me in the reflection of the mirror a moment, a small smile spread across his face and he stepped into the room behind me. I started to pull my shirt down, but he slipped his own hands over mine. "Hey don't, you're sexy." He kissed my shoulder.

"Sexy. Please." My eyes were still on those stretchmarks.

"You're always sexy to me," he said, moving his hands slowly over my belly. Somehow his hands there made me feel fuller, made the curve look more definite, more sexy-momma than stretched-out-crazy woman. And his body felt warm against my back. "Have I told you oliver today?" he asked.

"Not yet," I replied.

"Well," he said, and he leaned down, pressing his mouth against my shoulder, "Oliver."

I smiled.

"What? No oliver back?" he teased, a smirk playing across his face.

"Oliver back," I replied with a giggle.

"You're just sayin' that," he said, his voice teasing.

"No really, I do," I laughed.

"Prove it," he said, pulling me with him into the bedroom, his hands tangling our fingers all up together as he pulled me on top of him on the bed, my breasts smooshing on his chest. It'd taken him half the day to get around to putting clothing on his body - like more than just those horrible sweatpants - a black tank top and a pair of light washed jeans. But it took me only a couple moments to get them back off him.

We'd had sex the first time a little more than two years ago - in Las Vegas on Nick's birthday - and countless times since then (in countless places) - but it still made my skin heat up with anticipation every time I started to undress him. It was like opening a present on Christmas morning, only way hotter of course. He was everything I'd ever asked for, and he was just for me, and I felt this rush of adrenaline and urgency flow through my system like drugs. If Nick Carter was crack, I was addicted, and I was so not going to rehab to get him out of my system. Like, ever. My heart rate increased and I pushed his shirt up, wrangling with it, until it slipped over his head, messing up his hair. He stared up into my eyes with such intensity that I found it impossible to look away. My fingers fumbled with the button and zipper on his jeans. I could feel him pressing against the fabric, his body tense and on full alert. I kissed his face to break the hypnotic hold his eyes held on me and then kissed down his chest, slowly sliding away from him until I was kneeling on the floor in front of him, and I kissed his jeans softly as I pulled the zipper down. He groaned as he grabbed hold of the bedspread, squeezing his knuckles tight, pulling the fabric tight in his fist.

I slid his pants down and because he's always commando he was fully on display. It was still a little strange, being this intimate with him. I'd grown up with Nick. Nick and I went back further than my understanding of what sex even was went back. I could still remember sitting in the pipe and talking about our bodies developing when we were kids after the first session of health class. I remember sitting in there during a rainstorm eating gummy worms and teasing Nick that his penis probably looked like one of them, waving a red worm in his face until he grabbed it away from me. "It ain't nothin' like that," he'd said haughtily, "Not that it matters to you, 'cos you'll never see it, flatty."

I grinned up at him now, imagining the look on his eleven year old face if I'd ever told him that we'd be married someday and my boobs would eventually actually fill out a pretty good sized bra cup.

"Why are you laughing down there?" he asked, concern in his voice.

"I'm not laughing," I said. I couldn't help it. I could just picture the perplexed expression he would've had if he'd only known.

"Yeah you are. Is there something wrong with my dick?" he sat up, concern definitely in his voice now.

I leaned up and pushed him back, "No, Mr. Carter," I said in a husky voice, taking a deep breath to regain my composure. I stared into his eyes, then said thickly, "There's... absolutely... nothing wrong with your dick." I reached for it and he tilted his head back as my fingers found him and started rubbing gently. "It's perfect."

"Yeah?" he groaned.

"Yes, sir," I answered, and I lowered myself back to my knees, now that he was contented. I made a mental note to tell him what I'd thought of later, after the sex, when he was feeling less self-conscious. He'd laugh at the memory, too, when he was in a less... stimulated... state. I smiled as I moved my hand slowly across him. He was right. He was nothing like the red gummy worm.

Nick's eyes were closed, he was biting his lip in anticipation, and he drew in a breath as I pressed my lips to his skin softly.

I was just getting started on him really good when Zoey's cries broke through the baby monitor.

"No," Nick whimpered.

I ignored it at first. She'd quiet down, I told myself. We couldn't be running to her every beck and call, especially now that she was getting older... and I kept going on Nick. But she kept crying. "We should... prolly... go check..." he murmered, moaning just a little at the last of the words as I withdrew myself from him.

"Probably," I admitted.

He was breathing hard.

"You okay?"

"Go check on her," he muttered.

This wasn't the first time we'd tried and failed to have sex without getting interrupted by Zoey - it wasn't even close. Hell it wasn't even the first time that week. It was like she had radar and knew we were in the middle of doing stuff. I mean obviously we'd succeeded a couple times at least - the little bundle of lovin' in my belly was proof enough of that - but most of those times had been when we'd left Zoey with friends. AJ and Rochelle, or Brian and his new girlfriend, Katie. Zoey was just way too good at interrupting us. She hated when our attention wasn't on her 24/7.

Kinda says something about Nick and I and our sexual encounters, though, that we couldn't squeeze in even what we considered a quickie before she noticed.

They last forever.

Until she cries.

"One of these days, Mr. Carter," I said as I pulled my shirt back on, "I'm gonna fluff you uninterrupted." I bent down and kissed his cheek as he grabbed his shirt and tugged it on.

"My wrist will appreciate the vacation time," he called after me as I rushed out of the room to answer the crying baby.




Nick

"Sex on Valentine's Day."

Ashley looked up. Zoey was in her high chair, a bunch of cheerios smooshed on the tray in front of her, Ashley sitting on a stool she'd pulled up next to her, waving a spoonful of mushy baby stuff at her face. I'd spent the last twenty minutes recovering from our near escapade. I pulled a bottle of Kale juice from the fridge and unscrewed the cap as Ashley tucked the spoon into Zoey's mouth.

"I think that's what we should do," I said. "Each other."

Ashley laughed, "Okay. But what're we gonna do with this one?" she waved at Zoey.

"Gabbbaaahhhhhhhhloo!" Zoey waved her hands at the spoon and Ashley obediently turned around and stuck some more food in Zoey's mouth. But she spit it out, smooshing it between her lips so it dripped down her chin. She was more interested in Ashley's attention than the food she was holding out.

"Maybe we can get Brian or AJ to baby sit," I said. I pulled a chair up and sat next to my two ladies at the breakfast bar, putting my feet up. Zoey waved her hands at me and I reached out and picked up a Cheerio, closing it in my fist. She laughed and tried to pry it out of my fingers.

"On Valenine's?" Ashley asked. "They're probably making plans, too."

"We could hire someone," I said.

Ashley frowned.

"I know you don't like having people we don't know around Zoey but --"

"Nick, you've got so many psychotic fans out there..."

"I know, but --"

"What if one of the true nut jobs shows up on our door step to baby sit her? Huh? What then? Or what if it's one of Chris's friends or something? What if it's just a generally crazy person? Like that chick that shook the baby to death that was in the news that time."

"You worry too much."

Ashley pouted at me.

"We'll figure something out."

"We only have a couple days. We really should've looked into this before now."

"We were a little busy," I answered. "Getting married and stuff."

"BLOOOOOOOOOOOF!!" Zoey was tired of picking at my fingers and wanted attention again. I released the Cheerio as Ashley spooned more mushy stuff into her mouth absently.

We both glanced at her. She grinned and threw pink giraffe over the side of the chair. Ashley sighed and picked the giraffe up and put it on the counter. "RRRRRRRRRRRA!!" Zoey waved her arms at the giraffe.

"Did she just say raff?" I asked, "As in... Giraffe?"

"Nawh, she said ra," Ashley replied.

"In in... giRAffe?" I asked.

"She was leaning against the tray," Ashley answered. "I think the tray made her grunt." She paused. "I dont' want her first word to be giraffe," she frowned.

"We don't get to pick the first word," I reminded her.

"I know..." Ashley said. "But I'd like it to be something nice like dada." She turned to Zoey. "Say dada, Zoey. Dada."

I walked over and picked the giraffe up from the counter and hande it to Zoey, whose pudgey little arms were still waving desperately in that direction. And I bent forward and kissed Ashley softly, her eyes swiveling up to look at me. "Oliver," I whispered to her, and she laughed and kissed me back.

Even if sex wasn't really an option as often as I'd like, I was still happy. Happier than I'd ever been in all my life before. I couldn't help but smirk on the inside at how appalled my old self would've been with my new self. Not having had sex in more than a day used to make me feel like a failure, and thinking of having sex with the same girl more than once had made shivers of horror crawl down my spine. Now, I was just glad to have my family, a place where I belonged.

In the grand scheme of things, that plane crash had been the best thing that had ever happened to me.