The First Time (Love in No Time #1) (12 page)

“Thanks,” he exhales.

And I am capable only of nodding before my face escapes into his shoulder.

I am shy, suddenly. I am not sure what happens now or what I must do now. I am at his mercy a little for he is refusing to let go of this power he is experiencing of sudden with me in his arms. His beard is rubbing against my forehead. It is not relaxing me one bit. I am aching for something that I cannot seem to name.

“Let’s sit down and maybe come back for a different song, ya?” He looks into my eyes and I go all shy on him. We walk back to the couch with me locked under his arms where we find Wady looking at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. What was he so happy about? I wouldn’t know but his grin makes me grin back at him. As I sidle into the seat, I reach over to give him a friendly peck on the cheek. And he responds with a smack on my forehead. It was over in two seconds but the arms around my waist yanked me to the body they were attached to and I hear a growl in my ear—“what was that for?” “What?” I looked at him, all innocence dripping into every word. I think I probably even batted my eyes at him.

“That peck on the cheek, darling.” “You know what I mean. And just a small piece of advice—don’t flirt with Wady. His heart and his pants would not survive it, trust me.”

And then he looks at Wady—“Am I right, buddy?”

But Wady was looking elsewhere, at a cute, black-haired petite miss in her short, short, black dress. Without taking his eyes off of his eye-candy, Wady threw back—“ I don’t know what you are talking about
buddy
.” “Why don’t you make the move,
buddy
? Looks like she wants you.”

“I will.”

“When?”

“Whenever I fuckin’ want! Why, do you want to?” Wady throws a testy one. “I am happy to entertain your girl in the meantime, more than happy.”

I look at my man, “do you want to?” “Want to what?” he re-asks knowing fully well what I meant with my question. I wait wordlessly, one eyebrow cocked.

“What? You think I want to entertain Ms. gyration there?” I don’t respond. He drops his head closer to my face.

“You think I want to?” I still don’t answer. A question in response to a question doesn’t make an answer.

He came in closer. I squinted to keep his face in focus that was now all hair and smell—of cigarettes, vodka, coke, and a minty gum flavor. My nostrils struggled to make sense of the complicated smells. He suddenly swoops in to give me an open-mouthed kiss. My eyes close as I moan back into his flavor-fucked mouth. He swallows my mouth like a Popsicle. I forget myself, everything about me—where I was, the context, the question, the friend, the music, the cute bombshell—everything. It was a soul-stirring moment. I was beginning to feel lost in him, in his seduction, his physicality. He became my special.

I break the kiss as I dip my head in the crook of his neck, breathing his scents deeply, trying to slow my breathing a little. I felt him kiss my forehead simultaneously asking the server at our table for two a glass of water. I sigh as I lay back against his chest, his smell and warmth entering me slowly as my breathing slowed too. His arms curled against my breasts to secure me to him. Another deep sigh.

This was way too good, comfortable, soothing, and annoying as hell! I didn’t think an Indian man deserved my attention let alone an under-breast hug.
This
Indian man, however, was not only getting my attention he was getting access to my insides via my mouth into which he had already drained enough crazy flavors that no amount of mouth-wash would expunge. Not that I seriously desired it but just saying!

I watched two
firangi
(white)
women in their rather sedate looking printed frocks but crazy curly blond tresses make their way to the center of the floor, making whooping noises as their bodies tuned into the gyrating Bollywood music. Suddenly the dark spaces come alive as the hitherto non-existent bodies hiding in the deep recesses of the leather-clad booths began to pay attention to the white sparks on a brown-black floor. The
firangi
women just by their presence were questioning a certain sequence of seduction and its requiting. Sex could happen right here, right now. The unhibitedness of their movements made sheer mockery of ours. We were only pretending to mate on the floor, they were mating without a mate! And sure enough moths were gravitating to the flame—ugly, dark, and men without good intentions. I watched as two such ugly, sad moths buzzed closer to the
firangis
, who oblivious to their intention continued to move their bodies to the sounds they couldn’t care to interpret. Their hands were being caressed even as fronts were being carefully attached to backs. I started to cringe in the arms of my man. I knew what was coming and I wasn’t feeling particularly thrilled for the
firangis
. But then again, they were about to get laid and they probably knew or even wanted to. I watched the predatorial dance before me. I immediately wanted to get out of there. I wiggled in his arm as I turned to look at him. Damn! He had been watching me all along.

He says, “Do you want to go?” Damn! He even knew what I was going to say/ ask. I nod.

“Okay, we are out of here. Wady, you staying or leaving?” Wady was already draining his glass as he stood up from his vantage point.

This reminded me to drink my water too. I needed to dilute all the rum and coke swishing around inside my stomach. I didn’t need a hurling session to make mine or anyone else’s day! We exited. I flanked on either side by two very different male bodies. I hooked my arm around each distinct waist as we walked out of the dark into the other dark of the night. It was a good night.

              Wady dropped me off my apartment in Vasant Kunj. Yes, just me. Though later I wished it wasn’t just me. After being ravished in the back of Wady’s car for the entirety of the car ride was enough for me to want more. But wanting more scared me shitless. It was also irritating. I was twenty-six years old and possibly a virgin. I was scared for the pain. What if I bled? I don’t do blood at all. No wonder that my plans for becoming a doctor got scrambled early on. Even all this silly scramble in my head couldn’t prevent me from seeking his mouth for a good night kiss. And it was a seriously good kiss, one that scrambled my head even more. He gave me a searing look before he suddenly turned and left. I locked up and decided to go to bed. I needed to get off. It was an imperative. I wouldn’t last through the night without it.

Chapter Nineteen

It was December 30. It was the first thought that came to me when I woke up the next day. And my head hurt. This was my second thought. I needed food, I needed water, and maybe a good long shower. But I couldn’t drag myself out of bed to make good on my need. My mind began to slip to the night before as my body stirred to some form of alertness immediately. I touched my lips. They still felt swollen and abominably dry. Goddamn! The man had sucked off my heavy-duty lip balm, my natural moisture even—leaving my already full lips feel like they had been pulled to the point of pain by a set of pliers. Did I mind? No, sir, no ma’am, or whoever is listening. I felt my lips again and my groin responded, “I need,” plaintively. “Me too.” I said to myself as I heard the phone ring.

I almost tripped over myself in my hurry to reach it. I still managed to thunk my toe against the door! Damn! That hurt. I held on to the pain with one hand while picking up the receiver with the other. It was him.

“Hi, are you alright?” How does he know to ask what at what time?

“Yes, I thunked my toe!” I blurt. I am snitching about the big, bad door’s revenge on my delicate toe. Gah! I am really pathetic.

“Oh, I am sorry. Does it hurt bad, baby?” The “baby” went straight to my groin and my vagina clenched happily.

“Yes,” I sound really pathetic.

“Oh! Sorry baby. If I were there, if you hadn’t sent me on my way after we were getting somewhere with whatever is happening between us, I would be kissing your toe all well and bringing you breakfast in bed, too.” I am rendered voiceless.

Really, who is this man? How come I spent at least ten years of my virgin life not knowing that a human god existed two doors from me? Why am I finding it now? What a waste of my time wondering if there was “the one” out there?”

“Did I get your tongue, baby?” I am still voiceless. There is a sexual innuendo here that I get but don’t have a response to.

“So the reason I called was to actually invite you to a new year’s party tomorrow evening. Wady’s sisters throw a fabulous party, the works and I always go because Wady is family. And of course Wady would love for you to come. He will be calling soon to extend his invite. I just wanted to beat him to it!” I hear the smugness in his voice.

“Yes.” Not exactly the most appropriate response to his spiel but I had just accepted the invitation to the ball!

“Good. I will come collect you around 7:30, even though the party doesn’t begin till about 10:30 or so—gives us enough time to catch up, eh?”

“Sure, I look forward to it, Sir.” I smile that I am sure he can sense.

“And, Bits, I am staying the night . . .” I hear the click of a disconnected call.

Holy shit balls! He had just invited himself to my place for the night. And I knew in my gut this was not going to be an ordinary night. It was a night that would change everything—everything around me, in me, and about me.

Chapter Twenty

I have no clothes. I am pouting as I look around pathetically at my wardrobe. I have no time to find myself a dress, anything suitable for the evening. I had never been to a new year’s party before. So I didn’t know what to expect or how to pre-empt contemporary fashion.

He promised to pick me up at 8:00 p.m.. I knew he was not going to be late. I had three hours to be ready and waiting. I finally decided on a deep blue halter dress that clung to all the wrong places or right ones, depending on the standpoint, a pair of deep brown clogs, and a Rajasthani jacket to protect from a cool night. I straightened my hair out and let it fall across my back in shiny waves. I liked my shampoo. It smelled good and kept my hair healthy. My make-up was minimal—a thin cover of foundation, a thin line of charcoal colored kohl outlining the upper eyelids was all I put on. But then decided to go the oomph route by putting on a coat of deep wine red lipstick. I was ready. And then the lights go out.

Dammit! I should have been prepared. Now, I had to get used to the dark before slowly making my way to where I think I could find some candles and a matchbox. My feet moved just when I heard a sharp knock on the door. Dammit! He cannot be here this early. But what time is it anyway?

I inched my way to the front door to call out--“who is it?” I got no answer.

Oh, dear. Was someone playing a prank? Did someone know I was alone at home and was just messing around? My armpits broke into a sweat as if on cue. I was now scared. I didn’t know whether to call out again lest the fear show in my voice for whoever was on the other side of the door to get creative in his/ her harassment.

Then I heard my name through the door. It was him! Oh, thank fucking god! I was so relieved and so eager to open the door that I ran smack into a metal side table. It hurt! God, it hurt like hell. My eyes watered. I sat down to press hard against the throbbing toe.

“Be right there, hon’” I called out.

“Hurry up, hon’, its freaking dark out here and cold too,” he replied. I hobbled to the door and slid open the latch. I confirmed it was him before I opened the screen door to let him in.

He wasn’t alone. In came his other friend who was popularly referred to as Rocky. I had never met Rocky before though had heard a lot about his “failed” business ventures in Detroit. Now he was standing in my darkened living room where I couldn’t meet him properly. I still said “hi” while extending my hand to shake his. But Mr. boyfriend stepped in, took my hand instead to pull me to him.

He used the dark to give me a hard, quick kiss before asking, “You ready?”

I mumbled a “yes” even as I heard an almost silent chuckle from Rocky.

Ok, whatever. It was just a kiss. We weren’t exactly tearing each other’s clothes in a public display of passion gone rampant. I had pulled together my purse before the lights went out so just grabbed it off the dining table before following the guys out. I locked the door. He was waiting to give me a hand down the two stairs (yes, sweet!) and then he tucked me by his side as we walked twenty paces to his friend’s Maruti sedan. Rocky held the door open as he tucked me in the back seat.

“Are you cold?” as I folded in to the leather seat.

“A little,” I said honestly. He then reached across my legs to a plastic bag that I hadn’t noticed in the dark. He pulled out what looked a thin shawl. Before I knew it, the shawl was draped over my legs, he had kissed both my knees through the layers, and was withdrawing with a smile on him face, his white teeth acting like florescent light in the dark! I was just mesmerized even as I felt many other things pop inside me in brilliant colors. We were off and just as we turned the corner of the lane, the lights came back on in a loud “pfft.” As we passed the streetlight, Rocky turned in his seat to smilingly re-introduce himself. I smiled back at him. He was good looking man, even though his kind of Punjabi look didn’t quite do it for me. I was smitten by another—whose Punjabi looks actually did it for me in some inexplicable way.

I was quite warm in the back. This made me drowsy therefore not so inclined to speak. Both men realized that because every time they asked me something or Rocky turned to share something, my best response was “hmmm.” So they let me be while they got caught up on each other. I let the cool night air kiss my cheeks as the sodium streetlights reflected off my face. I was happy. I must have dozed a little for I felt jerked awake as the car jerked to a halt.

“We are here?” I squeaked. I only saw a massive iron gate in front of me in what seemed like wilderness.

“Yep, hon. Wakey, wakey!” Oh, so irritatingly cute.

“Should I get out or are we driving in if and when someone opens the gates to heaven?” Rocky let his irritation be known.

“Sit tight. I’ll go check if we are in fact at the right address. I sincerely hope Wady got this right. Or he is toast, I swear to god.” He walked way with that thrown into the empty, quiet space of the car.

I saw him knock tentatively at the door first and then with some force. After a minute or so, the gate slowly creaked open as a guard’s face peered out. I saw them exchange a few words before the face disappeared behind the gate that slowly creaked back shut! What?! Did we actually come to the wrong address? Shit. That sucked. All the time that could be spent dancing and drinking would be spent finding the right address instead. Shit. I am not happy.

And then suddenly, the big iron gates creaked wide open and we were being beckoned in by the same guard. He came back, started the car before slowly sliding back in. We drove into a magical wonderland. Lights everywhere. Music blaring. Food smells wafting. People dancing. Color and shine everywhere. Wow! This was a party for sure. We found a parking spot.

As I stepped out the car with the help of my man, I saw another Maruti sedan slide into the parking spot right next to ours. I threw it a casual glance but then turned back again because I thought I saw Wady in the front seat. Yes, it was him. His grin, his evil grin, gave him away. I grinned right back. I was actually pleased to see him. I saw him open the back door to the sedan and out stepped two pretty girls—one petite and the other not so petite. They both wore short dresses with high heels and carried an air about them—one that could easily turn odorous and bitchy at the slightest provocation, I mused. I decided I didn’t like either one. I don’t do bitchy. I have good, happy, honest, kind, compassionate girlfriends. I didn’t need rich spoiled girls from South Delhi in my life then or ever. I turned to walk away from the car towards the party when he holds me up while he walks around to the other side to greet the girls! I see him kiss both on either cheek before hugging each in turn. The petite one seems to hug him just that little bit longer, I saw. Okay. What was this? I wasn’t surprised that he knew the girls. He knew Wady. Wady was a friend and as a friend I assumed they shared everything that boys shared. So I am sure Wady shared about the two chicks that he was now introducing to everyone as per their last discussion. I saw the petite one now looking with some longing at him as her cheeks looked warm red even in the dim light above us. Okay. Should I be reading more into this? I was now uncomfortable. I needed to get to the party, drink and eat and be merry. And miss bitchy was now seriously spoiling these plans. I saw red as soon as miss bitchy hooked her hand in the crook of his elbow to drag him towards the festivities. He threw me a helpless look. I think I threw him a short smile because I couldn’t let him know how pissed I was planning to be.

Rocky being the gentleman he was or maybe he was trying to make up for his inconsiderate dick of friend, offered me the crook of his arm to begin dragging me towards light. I followed throwing daggers at his back and the one who clung to the arm that belonged to me. I wish I was a bitch. I would have thrown the most spectacular tantrum right there ending the beginnings of a drama effectively. But my mama didn’t teach me to be spectacularly stupid. She taught me to wait while watching others be that. So I was going to do just that even as I seethed inside. But I wanted the sight before me to disappear as if by magic.

So I dragged Rocky towards the first bar I saw. I needed a drink. Rocky obliged. He knew not to do anything otherwise. He didn’t need to deal with a powder keg at the moment.

“So, tell me about you, Mr. Rocky Balboa—who are you? Where do you come from? Where do you go to? Anything that can be legitimately shared, I would like to know. I have time since my boyfriend decided to abandon me for something less than ordinary.” Rocky smiled. But his smile wasn’t directed at me, I took a second to realize. He was looking over my head. I didn’t need to turn to know who stood behind me.

So I continued to sip my Bombay Sapphire and gin before asking Rocky again, “So what gives, Mr. boxer from Detroit?”

“You really want to know?”

“Sure, we have all night.”

“No, you don’t. And no, he isn’t. We are going to the dance floor right now. I need a dance with you.”

“No, we are not. I am here making conversation with my new friend.” I retorted without looking at him. He still hadn’t emerged from behind me. Coward.

“Yes, we are. I am here to take you there—whether you go with me willingly or I carry you there.”

“Oh! He-man, are we?”

“No, just a good boyfriend who wants to dance with his beautiful girl-friend before the clock strikes mid-night. Then who knows, I might turn into a frog and you might find your prince.”

Before I could retort, my drink was taken away, I was being hauled up from the chair into a sweatered chest. I couldn’t even register my surprise when his mouth met mine and his tongue tangled with mine in the most dirty, erotic way. The mouth-to-mouth fusion went on and on and on till my knees felt weak enough to totter. I needed to sit. But his arms banded around me in a vice-like grip while his mouth stuck like Fevicol to mine. He was making a point while also apologizing at the same time.

I knew that. It was the most erotic apology ever.

And my vagina was clenching in respect. I think I began to cry and laugh at the same time. I kept my eyes tightly closed for I didn’t want to know what I would see when I opened them. If this was a dream then so be it. I needed for it to go on and on and on. But my feet were somehow moving, getting closer to the sound of music. I was suddenly on the dance floor held tightly into a circle of inflexible arms. I just had to move even if I felt I couldn’t. He made sure of it. So I moved, happy inside and out. I smiled as I closed my eyes to take in this sensation of being possessed, completely.

The warmth of his chest kept my breast easy and happy till I could feel him withdraw slowly as if reluctant to do this to us. My eyes blinked open. Instead of finding his eyes looking at me, they were looking beyond my shoulder. I tried to turn in the direction but his arms held me stable to the spot as if he cared who or what I saw behind me. His head jerked sideways as if to say no to that someone and then he was looking at me again, a slight regret reflecting in his eyes.

I wiggled free of him before coming face to face with a beetroot red pixie face. Her eyes were dark coal and her mouth was slightly twisted to the side in displeasure.

Okay
. Who the fuck are you? My mind shouted even as its voice never manifested. I am sure though I was heard loud and clear by Ms. Pixie. With the threat of violence looming large, the concerned men stepped in. One of them was mine. He stood between her and me. I felt dwarfed. This angered me even more. What is this? Mafia moment? And who was being protected—me or her? Oh! It better not be her. That would really make me mad. I peeked from behind the tweed covered back of my irritating boyfriend.

She is crying! What the motherfucking, low-down, tactic to apply! Twit, I screamed in my head. Why am I not able to scream all this political incorrectness out? What am I? Ms. propriety when the other Ms. is pulling out all the feminine viles out of her bag of tricks? Now I want to confront her but I really don’t know what to say to her. How dare you? But what did she dare except crying in public which actually was not really a dare. It was just, well, interesting. I did want to know why she was crying.

“Why are you crying?” I finally blurted. Her eyes did not shift to me once. She knew I had said something to her because I was also looking directly at her. But her teary gaze remained fixed on the man blocking our direct paths to each other. Goddamit! She is quite a focused player, isn’t she? I step away from my hiding to cross my arms, showing my intention to watch how this drama plays out. He gives me a sideways. I don’t know what that means. We are not that in tune, yet. But I decide to stay where I am hoping that is exactly what he meant too. Because I am going to be very upset if he really wants me to step outside while he deals with this! He takes one look at my set face before turning away.

The music is too loud for me to hear what is being said. But he is two feet from her saying something quite rapidly. I see her eyes shift, becoming even more glassy. She reaches out to touch him and he let’s her! Her hand is now resting on his arm just short of clenching the material of his suit jacket. My teeth clench. But I stay still, waiting, watching, knowing decision time is approaching. He reaches out, pulls her head into his shoulder, kisses her forehead and as soon as it does he turns around to lock his eyes with mine. I don’t quite know what to do or what it all means. I hope it means we can leave now. But she clings to his other arm as tightly as she possibly can. He shakes it off but she is not ready to let go. He turns around to her, holds her by the elbows before looking directly into her eyes to say loudly enough for everyone, “Just let go. Don’t create a scene. I will not be happy.” She cowers and immediately turns to her friend and buries her face into her shoulder. The howling is coming, I suspect. I am still looking at her when his face blurs her away.