Three in the morning. The moon is the only light we have besides the small bonfire I made on the sand. The calm sea sings quietly into the night, like a melody in my ears. Before me, a bottle of Bordeaux is buried in the sand, and a pack of cigarettes lies next to it.
"Darling, you don't believe in heaven, do you?" Emma asks, her legs stretched out on the sand. The warm summer wind brushes her hair. She lights the cigarette between her lips.
"No," I say. She nods.
"In hell?"
"No,"
"In anything?"
"No," I declare, for the third time. "You?"
"No," She offers me the cigarette.
"Why'd you ask, then?"
"Oh, I fucked my philosophy professor in college."
My lips form a smirk instinctively as I take a drag of the stick. "And?"
"Believe it or not," She sits up, and takes off her top. No bra underneath, nothing. "Theology was good foreplay."
"Was it?" I mutter absently, lost in the view as the faint bonfire illuminates her bare chest.
"It's a bit too hot tonight, don't you think?" She says. "I think," She slips out of her shorts and gets on her feet. "We should go for a dip."
"Emma..." I turn my head to scan the beach. I'm pretty sure I'm not the only person plagued by night terrors around here. We can't be the only ones out.
"No one's here," She reassures. "I checked."
Oh, well...
"Come on,"
We'll be quick.
I put out the cigarette on the edge of the wine bottle, and reach down to take off my T-shirt. She stops me. "No. Let me do it." I raise my arms. Her fingers trail down my chest, making their way to the end of my T-shirt. She throws it away and places her hand on my cheek. Her thick lips land over mine for a Bordeaux and tobacco-flavored slice of heaven. My impatience gets the best of me as her salty blonde strands melt between my fingers, and I begin to devour her neck. "Get rid of those," She orders, letting out a deep breath. I take off the rest of my clothes.
"Sweetness, by the time I'm done with you," She whispers into my ear, dragging me to the water. "You'll sleep for days."