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21- 2
To contain my remaining sanity, I shook off every image of Sherneil naked and focused on making her an orange juice with a plate of the food I made. All in an effort to find a distraction for myself. I grabbed my shirt from beside the sofa and pulled it over my head. It was thirty minutes after nine by the time Sherneil stepped out of her bedroom, I had just finished arranging the warmers and the jug of chilled fresh orange juice. She was dressed in a pair of short cotton pants and a white sleeveless top. Her braids were tied into an updo, exposing the natural curve of her neck that I so desperately wanted to sink my teeth in to mark. Not yet… we can’t take the risk. Goodness! How can someone look so perfect? “Hey,” I called as she walked into the kitchen only to reappear with a slice o
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