We Go Down (Bremmy 2)

Chapterish 50

[Quote Aesthetic of the Chapterish]

Time's a hazy bitch tonight.
2 AM quickly comes and goes. 3 AM turns into 4 AM. The bonfire sizzles with life, thanks to the vodka and rum Nate and Travis keep dousing it with.

I too am doused with rum. Well, my stomach is.

Slowly, everyone comes back down to earth. The couples start branching off and inconspicuously disappearing into different corners of the alcove oasis.

"Should we make a bed?" Brooks asks. He's got a jumbo striped afghan blanket in one hand, and the other he's holding out for me to take.

"But what about 24 hours straight? We can't go to bed!" I giggle. "It's cheating."

"I didn't say the bed was for sleep," Brooks laughs, mimicking my childish voice.

I could just jump on him right here.

"Lead the way," I say and step aside.

We amble through the driftwood maze and find a flat patch of sand nestled between two palm trees.

"Perfect view of the ocean," I say, taking one half of the blanket.

"Perfect view of nobody else," Brooks smirks, mischievous.

"I'm onto you," I tease.

"God, I hope so." Brooks's hands fall from the blanket that's now stretched to make our makeshift seaside bed.

The earth still quakes gently beneath us thanks to the reverberations from the speaker some hundred yards away. We move into each other, mimicking the bass drops. Ocean waves drown out every other sound.

I straddle Brooks's lap, my hands resting playfully on his neck. A tropical breeze ruffles the umbrella palms and wisps of hair tickle the nape of my neck. Brooks's palm glides over my neck and down my shoulder, pulling my cover up along with it. The hairs on my arms stand in protest, a chilling effect of his gentle hands on my skin.

I withdraw my hands from his hair and rest them on the hem of his red swim trunks, the red swim trunks. My string bikini top is off in three seconds, but Brooks's hands stop untying my neon green bottoms.

"What are you waiting for?" I pout. I'm already throbbing between my legs.

"Just playing with my food before I eat it," he whispers, his voice throaty.

He reaches around my back and, pushing my scanty bottoms aside, fills me with his finger. I arc in repones as an inaudible moan escapes my lips.

"I've been wanting to hear that all night," he tells me.

"Brooks," I gasp. I'm already so close to my breaking point. I blame the day drunk. I blame his perfect fingers.

He withdraws his hand and grabs my mouth, pushing his fingers inside. "I want to fuck you all night," Brooks says.

The throbbing between my legs is unreal. I grind myself into him until I feel him through my bottoms.

"Then get going."

I pull at the hem of his trunks and tug it far enough down that he falls out. I kneel over him for one second before he thrusts himself upward, meeting me in one hell of a collision.

I lean into him harder when his nails dig into my slightly sunburned skin. His hands grip my ass, keeping me perfectly in place on him.

"You're so fucking perfect, Ems." Brooks breathes into my neck.

I run my fingers in his hair and gently tug so that his head pulls back, apart from mine. His eyes watch me, intense. My finger tips part his soft and supple lips.

I used to consider myself a night owl. Sometimes I still do. Go Zen requires I get up at 5 AM (first class begins at 6 and Zöe never wants the early start).

Judging from the stars, the purplish horizon, and the buzz finally wearing off, it must be close to dawn now. 5 AM maybe.

I stifle a yawn but will my eyes to stay open. Some moments you just want to last forever and you want to be awake for those. I want to be awake forever on this beach, my cheek against Brooks's chest, our arms wrapped up in each other's, without a care about anything else in our lives.

We stayed awake on the beach, listening to the crackling fire and watching the star patterns shift above us.

Our love couldn't let us shut our eyes. So we didn't. We stayed awake in love like we'd never sleep again.