"In life, we form bonds and relationships with those who've never experienced themselves in all seasons of life-at their highest and lowest points, in grief and sadness, happiness and anger. We expect people to know themselves coming into our lives...
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"Baby," Sayori heard as she moisturized her feet, "Where you at?"
"The bedroom," She responded, watching the doorway as Imaan walked in, "You look handsome, Bubba."
"Thank you, Phat," He leaned down to kiss her, "Let me help you, Mama."
Today was the last event of the Carriere weekend—the Carriere Rodeo. Sayori was more than excited to support Imaan's family during this time—especially after receiving a drunken breakdown from CJ about the weight their family held. Though she'd witnessed Imaan in his element this entire weekend, she couldn't wait to see him doing one of the things he enjoyed the most.
Imaan was clad in an all black outfit—a Howler Brothers button down with CARRIERE printed in old English letters across his back. The True Religion jeans fit him perfectly, falling below the ankles and settling around his black, Tecova cowboy boots. A thick, black belt rested at his waist—a two-toned cameo belt buckle holding it in place.
"Thank you," She smiled, looking at herself in the mirror. She matched Imaan—her outfit complimenting his perfectly down to the belt buckle. Adéle had given her a family shirt, and Sayori was going to wear it out.
"My pretty girl," He snapped a quick photo of her, causing her to smile, "I'm lucky."
"At least you know," Sayori winked at him, laughing at his stale facial expression, "I'm kidding, my love." Leaning in for a kiss, her mouth dropped as Imaan blocked it.
"Who laughing now?" He teased, causing Sayori to nod and laugh.
"Memba dat," She pointed her finger at him before dodging his kiss, "Mi nuh want e."
"Stop playin' with me," Imaan grabbed her neck, planting a soft kiss on her lips and jawline. Sayori tucked her lip between her teeth as Imaan stared down at her.
Sayori couldn't deny her sexual attraction towards Imaan. At times, it mimicked an elephant in the room. Sayori craved Imaan in ways he couldn't imagine—she always wanted more. Although he'd performed sexual acts on her before, Sayori wanted the two of them to experience sex together.
"Stop," Sayori removed his hand from her neck, "You know what you're doing, Bubba."
"What am I doin,' Phat?" Imaan teased, tilting his head to the side. Sayori rolled her eyes in annoyance as she felt Imaan's hands roam her ass. He did it slowly and sensually, delivering light squeezes to her cheeks, "Hm?" He lowered his glare. When he stared at her, it was always intense—so much so, it sent shivers down her spine.
"Mek mi tell yuh sumn," Sayori placed her nail on his chest, "Stop play wid me!"
"I love you, Phat," Imaan said, "But, you ain' ready fa' me."
"All bark and no bite," Sayori fake yawned, watching as his tongue swiped across his bottom lip, "We'll see, my love." She pulled his chin, pecking his lips.