When Dimple Met Rishi(87)

"And . . . I want you, Rishi. Now." Dimple couldn't believe the words had actually left her mouth. Was this what lust was? Did it turn you into this brazen, dauntless person who asked for what she wanted in spite of usually being racked with social anxiety? Maybe Dimple ought to spend more time in a state of frenzied desire.

Rishi stared at her. "You want . . . so are you saying you want to have sex?"

She put her mouth on his earlobe, feeling it with her lips. "I mean, why not? We're consenting adults. We've thought about it. We have a room to ourselves. We like each other. . . ." Dimple pulled back and looked at him sternly. "Right? You like me? This isn't just an elaborate ploy to get into my pants?"

Rishi looked actually offended. "What? Of course not! You know I would never-"

Dimple laughed. "Relax, I'm just kidding." She put her head on his chest, listening to the thump-thump of his heart. It was solid, strong, trustworthy. She traced a finger from the hollow of his throat to his breastbone. "I'm ready if you are."

His hand moved to her hair, gently cupping the back of her head. "What about your parents?"

She made a face that she was sure he would be able to see in her tone. "Um, I'd rather we left them out of this."

He laughed, the sound rumbling in his chest. "No, I mean, won't they be disappointed? My parents would be. They're huge on not having sex until you're married. Once a cousin of mine was visiting with his fiancée, and they asked to sleep in the same room. I thought Pappa would die of an apoplectic fit. He gave them this huge lecture on how they were letting down their parents, him and Ma, and all of the gods and goddesses."

Dimple snorted. "That was probably an interesting conversation to overhear. How old were you?"

"Like eleven or twelve. I was just disappointed I wouldn't get the chance to press my ear up to their wall to hear something good later."

"Ew." Dimple slapped him lightly on the chest, and he laughed. "Well," she said, "Mamma has always talked to me about the evils of boys. I don't think she was ever too worried though. I never had a legion of guys coming around. If anything, I think she's always been worried that I'll end up alone with a herd of cats." She leaned up on one elbow and looked Rishi in the eye. "But it doesn't matter to me anyway. This is between you and me. This is our decision. Why should we think about our parents?" 

Rishi kissed her forehead. "Because it's what we do."

Dimple opened her mouth to argue, but then closed it because she realized he was right. Whether she liked it or not, she did think of her parents when she wanted to make big decisions. They mattered to her, however much she wished it weren't true.

Rishi pulled back and looked at her. "In this case, in this very specific case, though, I agree with you. I think we should make the decision for ourselves."

Dimple grinned and leaned in for a kiss. "Good. Then my decision is that you should take off your shirt."




This moment felt both hard to believe and completely inevitable, if such a thing were possible.

They were each kneeling and facing the other now. Dimple's eyes were wide, her lips slightly parted. "Do you have . . . ?"

Rishi looked at her, waiting. "Have?" And then realization dawned. She meant a condom. Rishi felt his face flush to match hers. "Yeah, I do."

When she nodded, Rishi unbuttoned his shirt, his fingers trembling slightly. It wasn't that he was nervous for Dimple to see him unclothed. It was that this felt like a solid, intractable line they were crossing. There were no take-backs after sex; there was no way to undo how much deeper they were falling into it.

As he let his shirt fall, as he watched Dimple's eyes rove over his chest and stomach, with her small hands following haltingly close after, Rishi wondered if he should be hesitating more. Should there be more doubt? Should he have argued with Dimple more, to see if this was something she really, really wanted, and something she wouldn't regret later?

She looked up at him. "You're unbelievably beautiful," she whispered, her eyes shining like twin stars.

And all his doubts vanished into the ether.




Rishi took off her glasses with a gentleness that made her want to cry; his fingers barely grazed the sides of her face. Folding them, he set them neatly on the nightstand before turning back to her.

Reaching behind her, he gathered her close and unzipped her kurta top. He paused, hands on her shoulders, and looked at her, a question in his eyes. Dimple nodded, biting her lower lip, her heart thundering so hard she was sure her chest was jumping with each beat.

When her bra lay beside Rishi's bed, her jeans and underwear on top of them, all in a tangled, warm heap, she looked up at his slightly blurry form, trying to read his expression.