Main Book Page | Listen to 6 Excerpts | See more Books

About book -Sensual Noir/Romance/Erotic Intrigue

Sheryl Banks started this diary of …(well, she doesn’t know yet, LOL). She just knows she has this fascination about being wickedly sensual all the time.

Join her to find what every woman wants: a man. A good man! 

Her life isn’t that exciting, but she thinks it’s sure to keep you on your toes.

Ready to read?

The Author asks that you be 18 or over if you’re getting ready to read below. Thank you.

Entry Two

Not much is happening right now in my life. Since moving to Detroit, my life’s been really hectic.

On top of that, today I lost my secretary. She got homesick for Florida and changed her mind about staying in Detroit. Being carjacked last night didn’t help matters.

Since I’ve been so busy just getting my life together while in Detroit, I haven’t been able to post. But Monday, I promise I’ll have more to say in this journal of mine.

Thank you for enjoying the ride.

Sheryl Banks.

Entry Three

I’ve dated more than one man at a time.

As a professional single woman, I found that a meaningful relationship while you’re trying to knock everyone off the top in your career is inane and takes up too much time. So I find guys I can date, but I’ve never wanted to have a meaningful relationship with any of them.

When I started to hit the big 3-0, I began really thinking that I needed to settle down. Maybe even have a few kids…maybe. But after I passed the 3-0, I was like; I could wait a few more years, right?

So I’ve never told a man, I love you, except to Rick. But at the time, I couldn’t make up my mind whether I loved him as a friend or as a lover. I think I loved him as both, but I never took the time to really examine it.

Could that be why he didn’t wait for me? Or even come to Florida?

It’s way too late to think about that now. Plus, it’s not worth wasting the little time we spend on the phone to ask.

In any case, I’ve never dated more than two men at a time. That was my limit because in some crazy sort of way, anything more than that would be sluttish and that I’m nevah! LOL.

Now I can be monogamous. If he ASKED and I really liked him, I would.

I always find it amusing the way a man will ask you to be monogamous. This conversation usually takes place after we’ve had sex for the first time and he really enjoyed himself. And oh yeah, I had a good time too, cause he’s got to come correct if he wants me to save this sweetness just for him.

“You know I’m digging you, gurl,” he will say.

“Yeah, I know,” I say, already knowing what’s coming, but trying to pretend like I don’t. The male species – in my opinion – can be so predictable.

He’ll move his hands to caress the front of my moins. Or sometimes men will stick their finger in my wetness at this point. (Why don’t they just pee on me? LOL) “This is mine, right, Sheryl?”

If I liked him, I would smile coyly and say, “Yeah, boo. All yours.”

We’d end up making love again and I’d really blow his mind.

I can be very monogamous to a man, when I really like him.

But coming back home, I wasn’t seeing anyone, so I wasn’t monogamous or felt a need to be. But I wasn’t a freak either. I can go without sex, which is what I was doing.

I take my job seriously. Upon coming back to Detroit, I had to do a whole lot of work on the project my company assigned me to. On top of that, we also did some work for the Detroit International Auto Show – one of the largest auto shows in the world – and I was looking for a great bonus for Christmas.

So sex was put on the back burner, while I focused on getting my feet wet back in town and getting my ass in gear at work.

I knew coming into work today was going to be a bitch because I didn’t have an assistant anymore. On top of that, Erin Nabors, the east coast Vice President of the company was looking for someone to bitch at.

Today was the last day of the Auto Show and I wanted to make sure that things got back to normal and all our ducks had been in a row. Instead of heading into work, I headed over to Cobo Center.

I forgot that I left my pass on my desk, so I went over to the V.I.P. desk for another.

“Hi,” I said pleasantly to the teenage looking attendant. “My name’s Sheryl Banks. I need to check on my exhibit, but I forgot my pass.”

The attendant looked at me as if I was making it up. “There’s no more temporary passes, ma’am.”

“What do you mean there’s no more?”

“Today’s the last day. They’re taking most of this stuff out of here. They said we gotta break down fast and-”

“Look,” I said, cutting him off because I didn’t have time to deal with idiots. I never had patience for stupidity. “Why don’t you do me a favor and get your manager down here, because obviously you have no idea who you’re talking to.”

The attendant used the walkie-talkie as I impatiently waited for the supervisor to come down. A guy in a security outfit that looked like it had been painted on him, because he was so damn big and brawny, came by as I stood tapping my $300 dollar Manola Blancs.

“You know you could scuff your shoes doing that.”

I whirled around at him. He was a hefty big black man. Not fat, but he was thick, about six feet six and a half, with a wide build. He talked silky, but rough – real deep and as if sandpaper was over his voice box.

“These shoes cost more than you’ve ever made in a day,” I sneered. “Go do your job and mind your own business.”

He looked up at the sign, as if he just realized he was standing at the V.I.P. section, and then he looked back down at me. “What’s your deal, lady?”

“My deal is that I want you to get the fuck out my face and mind your own business.”

He ignored me and leaned on the counter. “What’s her story, Poe?” he asked the attendant.

“She forgot her pass, but Mr. Mason already took the temps up, plus I don’t see her name on the register.”

The cornbread fed security guard looked at me sharply as if I was telling a lie. Matter of fact, his light brown eyes looked from my face down to my toes and back up again. He licked his thick dark pink lips as if he was a wolf about to feed on his prey.

Now I know I’m a good-looking sister. In one word – luscious. Men love to look at me no matter what I am wearing, because I seem to accentuate whatever they like about a woman’s body. My flawless soft honey brown skin, size 36 C cups (not too heavy and just right for gawkers), and round ass that perfectly curved at the bottom often made a man scream “damn” whenever I walked by.

But today, I was passed pissed and didn’t care for this man’s admiring looks. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” I snapped, but those eyes were making me hot and not just around the collar. He was definitely going to make me mess up my silk underwear very soon.

Poe gave the security guard my identification.

“Misses Cheryl Banks?” he confirmed. “From Florida?”

“Where I’m from shouldn’t matter,” I sneered. “Why don’t you go frisk someone, flashlight cop?”

He chuckled. When I tried to snatch my I.D away, he raised it up and stood to his full height. Even with my three-inch heels, I still wasn’t able to reach his hands.

“You need a fucking life.” In my frustration I hit him in the chest and broke a nail. It was like hitting live cement. Did he have a damn steel vest under that shirt, because this Negro couldn’t be that built?

“I think you need to come with me, Ms. Banks,” he sneered, grabbing my arms.

“Get your hands off me.” I tried to snatch away, but he dragged me away from the V.I.P. booth.

WTF?!!! Now I knew it was against the damn law to hit a police officer, but this was a fucking security guard. A nice ass looking guard with nice white teeth, sensual light brown eyes, and even well manicured hands (or should I say paws because they were gripping into my arm like claws).

Before I could utter another word of protest, he was practically hauling me towards a room right behind the V.I.P. booth.

Soon as he enclosed us alone in the room, I hauled off and slapped him across the face.

“Let go of me!” I ordered.

“Wait-”

I tried to hit him again because he had yet to let go of me. Never in my life had a stranger manhandled me like this before.

He blocked my swing, reached out with his free hand, and grabbed my chin. The next thing I knew, his sensual lips were pressed down on mine.

At first I was really angry. But the anger quickly left when I felt his muscular body press against mine and those thick strong arms move around my waist tenderly. Tenderness coming from a man who seemed so rough took me aback for a moment. But only for a moment.

With a smooth tilt of my head, I parted my lips and almost giggled when his tongue slid naturally to entwine with mine. It felt so powerful to have this big beautiful man succumb so easily to me, my body, my essence.

He wanted me. I could feel his want pressed against me. Our tongues seemed fused together as if we had been conjoined like this from the beginning of time.

He could kiss. He loved to kiss and that was rare in a man – especially a man like this.

Abruptly, he pulled away, panting with this heated look in his brown eyes. “S-sorry,” he said. “I just meant to…”

“Shut me up?” I asked, checking my makeup and giving him a very stern look.

He nodded, flushing. “Yeah and no. I mean, I was just trying to calm you down.”

“Kissing doesn’t calm me down.”

“And I wanted to give you this.” He handed me a temporary pass. “That’ll get you through the door, but as far as getting you where you need to be, you’ll have to be telling the truth about that.”

I took the pass and smiled with my heart-shaped lips. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. My name’s Theo.” He outstretched that thick hand for me to shake.

I shook his hand, noticing that his nails were very clean and that there were no rings on either hand.

Watching a grown man blush was fascinating. I adjusted my clothes and purposely dropped my business card on the floor before leaving. If he was a smart observant man, he’d pick it up and take advantage of it.

If he was a stupid man, he’d overlook it and lose the opportunity. I liked to be chased and pursued. It turns me on the more the man lets me know I’m wanted. And Theo definitely wanted me.

Reapplying my lipstick, hoping that my mouth didn’t look passionately ravaged, I made my way over to where we were exhibited. I didn’t get a chance to see Theo again that day, but as I lay in bed that night I did wonder if that gorgeous man picked up my card.

Diary Of A… (c) Sylvia Hubbard. All Rights Reserved 2010 | Published by HubBooks

Main Book Page | Listen to 6 Excerpts | See more Books

Make sure you are subscribed to read more