Think I Want to Twist the Plot This Time

Part 4

"Not practicing," Oppenheimer admits. "But you're right, I don't. I suppose for peace of mind that's why people get baptized later in life. But I believe what's done is done."

"So do I." Not like Barbie ever wants to forget, either. "And I'm glad it was with you."

"Then I guess I should be honored."

"But?" It sounds like there's a "but" at the end of that sentence, and she needs to know why he's hung up on this. They're grown adults who are capable of making their own decisions.

He takes a long inhale of his cigarette; it's almost out now. "But I figured a woman like you would have men throwing themselves at your feet."

Barbie frowns, turning her gaze so she's staring across the room instead. "I'm not naïve; I know what I look like." That can't be all he sees, though, right? After everything they've conversed about? She sure hopes he's seen more than just the pink, and the blonde, and peered into the soul of the woman she's becoming. "And I know what it's like to have a man worship the ground you walk on. And that's... not satisfying. It's not enough when you know it's all empty. I like being challenged because I don't always want to be right. I want to give back what they give."

Oppenheimer moves his hand up to brush through her hair and kisses the top of her head, a pretty intimate gesture, all things considered. "For what it's worth, you're quite fascinating beyond your beauty."

Fine, that actually works on her. Barbie smiles, bringing her hand up to his jaw so she can lean in and kiss him properly. "Thank you," she says, and then they sit in that comfortable silence once again. His hand doesn't leave her hair, just gently brushes his fingers along a few of the soft tangles that have formed. Oppenheimer finishes his cigarette and places his other hand atop hers, which is now back on his chest. She weaves their fingers together, sighing contently.

But, pleasant as this all is, Barbie can't find herself wanting to shut her eyes and drift off. And even though his heartbeat has completely steadied, something tells her he's thinking about even more things in that big mind of his.

"Oppie, you weren't planning on sleeping now, were you?" she asks, squeezing his hand.

"If I'm in bed with a beautiful woman, sleep is usually the last thing on my mind." He shifts a bit so he can face her a little better. "Why?"

"I wanna try something." Barbie presses her lips to his cheek, then smiles. "If you'll let me?"

"Barbie, there are few things in this world I wouldn't let you try tonight," Oppenheimer replies, smiling back. His fingers are so wonderfully gentle in her hair, soothing and even a little encouraging. "By all means, go ahead."

"Okay." She bites her lip; now that he's agreed and consented, there's the butterflies in her stomach again. This time, though, they're not confusing and icky and knotted. Now they're just excited nerves, anticipating her next move.

Barbie leads him into a kiss, this time a little more wanting, more open. He tastes more like nicotine than before, but something about how intoxicating his lips are, how he takes over the kiss, helps give her the confidence for what she wants to do. It draws her more into this little world they've created for themselves, and she moves his hand from his so she can trail it slowly down his torso.

Her hand dips under the sheets, a little timidly. She found him in the dark before, while they were already aroused, already ready for each other. Now she has to build up that tension, so Barbie taps into what she remembers from earlier, where she touched him and realized just how much he liked it. She wraps her fingers around him, feeling his breath hitch into the kiss as she gives an experimental tug.