T he sound was like fire on my flesh. Burning, scaring, whelping hair and cells, and I watched it. I smelled the smoke consuming me, taking hold. I tasted ash on my tongue. That sound was a Congo beat; even in rage he made music .

There were words I couldn’t understand. A strange language of anguish, despair .

I’m trying to save you, I thought, body shaking, jerking as I leaned against the front door .

“Iris, please! Don’t do this. How can you… estás rompiendo mi corazón. ” Jamie spoke in sporadic phrases of English and Spanish, moving between each language when one failed him, when the words did not hold enough emotion. “Don’t…please don’t leave me.” Two more beats and we rounded the bridge, but this melody was dark. It was rage and fear and dark worry in each pounding beat of his fists on my front door. I thanked God my mother had not been there. She knew what I planned, had encouraged me, but would not stay. Not when I asked her to leave .

I have to do this on my own .

It had been a failure .

I could not make the look on Jamie’s face leave my mind. Rubbing my fingers into the lids, pushing my palms into the sockets, still didn’t move that expression from my mind. There it stayed; painful, destroyed .

“What do you mean?” he’d said, hands dropping from my arms. He’d taken a step back, just one, as though he needed that small space to make sure I was me, that it was my mouth that told him a lie, my voice that tore apart his heart in five words .

We have to break up .

That red flannel hung in my hand, swinging against the concrete like a noose. Isaiah hadn’t come yet, but he would soon. I’d planned on it. Jamie kept on staring at me, mouth dropping open and a constant shake of his head telling me he wouldn’t listen. Telling me he’d never believe me .

“No,” he’d said, like I’d asked permission. I hadn’t and still he shook his head. “That’s not going to happen .”

There was panic in his eyes, something that had started as a glassy shine, like tears started to cloud against the blackness in his irises. But that panic twisted, became something dark, something that made me step back .

“You…don’t have a choice,” I tried, voice weak, shaking with emotion I couldn’t repress. “Here.” It was stupid, handing him that flannel, as though that shirt returned to him was some sort of symbol. He’d have it back, and I’d pack him away like my elementary school yearbooks and letters I’d written my mother at twelve while I was at summer camp .

“I don’t want this…” Jamie hadn’t even reached for me. He hadn’t done anything more than move into my space, holding my face, breathing in my scent like I was the oxygen he needed. “I want you. Only you. Nothing else …”

“Jamie, no .”

It had taken everything in me not to cry. God, how I wanted to. The tears were there, on the back of my throat, fighting to move forward. But he’d cried enough for both of us .

“You can’t do this, florecita . No. It’s not going to …”

“It’s done. I’m…I’m done .”

I’d heard the slow clunk of Isaiah’s car as it turned the curve, nearing their house. I waited for that noise to grow louder, for the headlights to illuminate the garage before I left it, using that old Chevelle as a buffer between Jamie and me .

“I’m…I’m sorry,” I’d cried, waiting for Isaiah to leave his car, to hold his cousin back when he darted for me .

“Let me go! Aléjate de mi ! ”

But Isaiah couldn’t stop him, no matter how tightly he held onto his cousin. I was three blocks from my house when I heard Jamie’s thundering feet coming closer and I sped up, heartbeat pounding, tears hot and burning on my cheeks .

“No, Jamie! No !”

I managed to get inside, to secure the deadbolt but he didn’t slow. He didn’t stop .

“No puedo vivir sin ti .”

“Please,” I cried, face in my hands, sliding against the door, to sit on the hardwood as he went on screaming. Pound after pound Jamie begged .

That ash in my mouth burned, clogged my throat and I thought my chest might splinter .

“Iris…please. Tu eres mi mundo. There is no me without you .”

Something broke in me then. It would not heal. Not this night, likely never. The beating on my door weakened, became softer, as though he wore himself out, but I still heard the sharp rip of panic in his tone, even as his voice got quiet .

“What did I do? Please tell me …”

Willow Heights was a small town. There was never any crime. There was ever a need, but patrolmen did circle the roads, and if I knew my neighbors, two old spinster women in their eighties who liked to tell my mother that she should send me to the all-girls Catholic school in Madison, then I knew they’d have something to say about the scene Jamie made out on the front porch .

“Jamie,” I said against the crack in the door, “you have to go home. My neighbors, they’ll call the police. You know how they are .”

“Not…no. Not until you tell me why .”

I want you to be free, I thought. I don’t want you losing yourself in me .

“I…I don’t want any…commitments while I’m in New York.” Even to my own ears that sounded stupid, unconvincing. “I…I want to be free to …”

“Why are you lying to me?” He punched the door again, sniffling, hissing after the small crack of bone. “Tell me the truth. Don’t fucking lie to me !”

“Jamie…”

In the distance, I heard the muffled sound of voices. They were old, but sharp and the pounding stopped for a second. I stood then, moving the thin curtain from the window next to the door and dropped it quickly, stepping away from the glass when I spotted Jamie on the porch, his face pale, eyes swollen .

“We don’t want to have to call the police, fella .” The old biddy sounded rude, saying ‘fella’ like it was a filthy word just meant for him .

“This…this is my girlfriend’s house,” he shouted, clearing his throat when they tried speaking over him. “I’m not lying. Call them, I don’t care …”

The horde was not kind to Jamie or Isaiah. They barely tolerated me and my Ina. Not the old timers anyway. Biddy one and biddy two outside my door were proof enough that the worse among our classmates had learned their rudeness from somewhere and that somewhere was still alive and kicking and being obnoxious in the process .

Knowing what a mess it might make, I opened the door anyway, shooting a glare right at their faces. “What the hell do you think you’re doing ?”

“Well,” Biddy One said, pulling her thin sweater closer together. “Does your mother know there is a boy here pounding on your door ?”

“Does your priest know you’re on my porch being an asshole to my boyfriend ?”

That was enough rudeness to send them off my porch, but I didn’t watch them leave. Instead, I grabbed Jamie by the arm, pulling him inside. I kept my attention on the two old women, and watched the street for any cruisers. None came, and I exhaled, realizing that I’d opened the door to a problem, one I didn’t know how to solve .

Jamie’s gaze was hot against my skin, got doubly so the longer I looked out the window until he stood behind me, his breath panting against the back of my neck .

“You can’t stay here,” I tried, gasping when he grabbed my waist, pulling me against his chest .

“The hell I can’t.” Jamie grabbed my hair, pulling out the plastic tie and braid to slid his fingers through my waves. Then he licked against the back of my shoulder, moving up my neck to stop at my ear, teeth biting softly against the bottom. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do. Not when you’re lying to me. Not when I know you don’t want me to walk away .”

“I…I do.” It was a pathetic refusal, something that sounded weak and breathless. He’d never believe me, no matter what I said, not when my body shook, my knees buckling just from the feel of his mouth against my neck .

“Liar.”

Jamie moved my head, directing it so that my face rested against the front door and I stretched out my hand, nails digging into the wood as he moved behind me, sliding his hands up my torso, locking his fingers against my nipples .

“You want me to stop…tell me.” I shuddered, releasing a helpless moan when he fished his way to my bra, reaching flesh underneath. “You’re wet just from this, aren’t you?” Behind me, Jamie’s hard, lithe body felt hot, tempting and without knowing I did it, I pushed back, my ass against his hard cock. “Si. You are. I know it.” We rocked against each other, him directing, me bending and it was new. It felt so different .

I’d let Jamie over and over. We’d spent every available moment together discovering ways to love each other, finding out what turned us on, what would make each other weak and panting, but Jamie had never commanded me. He never took control. He did just then, voice deep, raspy from the yelling, from all that emotion and for once, I let him. It did something to me, having him hold me tight against his body, having all that aggression moving around me like a second skin. I knew I shouldn’t have liked it, but I did. God, how I did .

“Let me see,” he said, pressing tighter against me, my face and chest against the door as Jamie kicked my legs apart. He moved slow, fingers teasing, grazing, his thumbs digging into my thighs as he moved his fingers up my legs. “Look at this.” He spoke against my back, rubbing two fingers inside my shorts and against my thin panties. My clit thumped and throbbed when Jamie stroked me there, wetness increasing like my breath the more he touched me. “Coño, que rico, you’re dripping .”

He didn’t wait for me to respond. Jamie didn’t ask permission to touch me to do anything at all. He seemed possessed. He seemed out of control and God help me, I loved him like this. I loved him and knew at that moment, I’d let him do whatever he wanted to me .

He took a second to slip both fingers inside my pussy, rubbing small circles inside me, thumb on my clit, and just as I neared the edge, as I arched and pushed against his fingers, wanting more, needing so much more, Jamie back away from me, taking my hips and turning me to lean against the door. He knelt in front of me, hands tugging my shorts down, leaning up on his knees to watch me, yanking me free of my clothes completely until I stood there, in my mother’s foyer naked from the waist down .

“You’re gonna to stand there, florecita and watch while I eat you.” His voice had gone to gravel, that lulling accent that he took care to hide exaggerated in his emotion. “I’m going to remind you what I can do to you.” He jerked one leg onto his shoulder, and I wobbled, holding onto his arms to keep my balance and Jamie licked the inside of my thigh, sparing a final look at me. “You’re gonna watch, mi amor , and then, you’re gonna scream my name .”

It didn’t take long .

His tongue was so thick and hot, I’d always thought so, but every time before, Jamie had been careful to kiss me there. He’d been cautious, as though it was more important to gauge my reaction, watch me as he went down on me to see what I liked best. It was always good, but this was so much better. He went at my pussy like he was starved for the taste and scent of me, working his tongue deep inside, sucking hard on my clit, opening me wider with two fingers, then a third .

“Jamie…” I started, already feeling so raw, so ready. That rushing sensation already began to crest and I felt my stomach coil tight. “Oh, God, Jamie!” I shouted after only a few minutes of him tasting me, touching me deep, and then I came so hard, flooded him so completely that I felt the slow, warm drip of my release down the inside of my thigh .

My breath was weak, my hold on balance nonexistent, and I barely noticed when Jamie stood, easing down my leg before he picked me up, mouth hard over mine, my taste heady and thick in his mouth. He walked down the hallway with me wrapped around him, his fingers in my hair, turning my head, keeping control over the kiss as he moved us to my room .

I broke apart from him when he kicked the door closed, blinking up at him when Jamie set me on the bed .

“This…we shouldn’t be in here,” I said, still half naked, still aching for more as he shook his head, ignoring me. He pulled his shirt over his head with one hand and immediately popped the button of his jeans. My gaze went to his stomach, to the beautiful dips and contours of those abdominal muscles, then to the black, coarse hair that ran beneath his navel. He touched himself, fingers slow against his stomach, right to his zipper to lower it .

He wore red boxer briefs, my favorite color and had his jeans and shoes off before I could stop him. I knew this would end in disaster. I knew this was just a delay. The inevitable would come and soon. But, God help me I couldn’t resist him. I didn’t even want to try .

“Jamie…” It was a weak effort, the impact utterly wrecked by how I laid back when Jamie crawled onto my bed .

“Shut up, mami ,” he said, taking my hand to rub down his chest, to his hard stomach. “Shut up and touch me.” I did, slipping my fingers beneath the waistband of his boxer, taking hold of his hard cock, stroking it so that Jamie sighed, like he’d been waiting for my touch. He squeezed his eyes, head turning in the sweet pleasure of my touch. “You take this.” Jamie grabbed my hair, moving my chin up as he used his free hand to guide my hand, stroking himself with my fingers over and over. “You take this because it’s yours. It’s only yours .”

He was wet at the tip and Jamie groaned, seeming to love how I rolled my thumb over the top and moved that moisture all over the shaft. He was impossibly hard, his hips moving with the stroke of my fingers around him, then he pushed back, taking hold of himself to rub the tip along my pussy lips. There was moisture there too and the hard searing heat of his cock breaching a half an inch in, then out again, the most delicious tease .

“Tell me you want this.” That grip in my hair loosened, but Jamie still turned my head toward him, sliding his fingers from my hair to my cheek. When he spoke, his voice was softer, the tone with barely an edge to it. “Tell me you want it, and I’ll give it to.” He kissed me, sliding in another fraction. “I’ll give you everything. You just have to say it .”

I could not take the teasing, that sweet lick of heat and fire working inside my stomach, my clit still pulsing from how Jamie had gone at my pussy. And the flash of his face, that hurt, that betrayal, God I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t bear the thought of ever putting that look on his face again .

I gave up, knowing I was opening us both up for a heartache we might never get over .

“Give it to me, Jamie,” I said, pulling on his hips to bring him closer. “I want you so much .”

And he took me, right there on my bed. He took what had always belonged to him, telling me with his body, with his desperate, needy kisses that I could never make him leave .

“I will always want you, belleza .” He worked his hips harder against me, lifting my leg to push in deeper, but Jamie’s gaze did not leave my face and as he watched me, another glassy shine rose up in his eyes. “You’re my addiction, and I will never be clean. Not ever .”

He loved me hard, for a long time, not coming up for breath, not letting me rest and I felt like a drug, something he couldn’t stop taking hits off. Later, when he was settled, when I couldn’t move away from him without him following, Jamie kissed my shoulder, voice low but fierce. “You’re mine, mami . Don’t ever try to change that .”

I closed my eyes moving my face deeper into the pillow. I didn’t want Jamie to see my tears or realize that I’d understood what I needed to do. The tears came hot and fast, each one taken by the fabric on the pillow, and I laid there still, listening to Jamie snore, praying one day he’d forgive me for what I’d have to do .