Sins & Secrets


By Carolyn Chambers Sanders

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An Essence bestseller from the author of Sins, Secrets & Success. Candice, Amber, and Toi are three young black women who have risen above life on the streets. Successful entrepreneurs, they are at the top of their game, but they will soon find that money does not always equal happiness.



My mother and grandmother,

Yvonne Chambers

Georgia Mae Brown.

I love you and miss you both.


I dedicate this book to my beautiful daughter and wonderful son, Diondra Sanders and Dion Sanders, Jr. Thank you both for being patient with mommy while I worked on this book, and thank you for giving me a reason and a purpose to complete this project.


I also dedicate this book to my sister Brenda Banks and my brother Jerrold Chambers, for supporting and believing in me. I love you all with all my heart.


I need you

I want you

Come do me right,

Please hold me and

make love to me . . .

if only for one night

I was so in love! He had everything I wanted and needed in a man at that time. He possessed all the qualities that captured and kept a woman's attention. He had the type of personality that made women want him, the sweetness, kindness, and gentleness that keeps a woman longing for more.

He had skills! Damn, that man has skills! Oh yeah, this beautiful chocolate-colored man loved me down oh so good that when he touched me, I melted like butter on a hot skillet. When his succulent, full lips were kissing me softly, I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and absorbed his sweetness.

He had all the good stuff that a woman needs. When he held me, I felt safe and warm, and I knew that was where I belonged—at least at that moment. This gorgeous specimen, who treated me like his precious queen when I needed it the most, was mine, but only for the night.

When I met . . . well, let's just call him Mike—I was at a small party with a few friends. I was bored and had been ready to leave for over an hour. Not wanting to be a hater, I stayed. As I sat and waited, I notice a rugged-looking but nevertheless fine man watching me. I turned my head and pretended not to see him because I was on a sabbatical from men. Two and a half years earlier, I ended my most emotionally draining long-term relationship. It was the kind of relationship where a woman gives everything she has and more, but is never appreciated. So getting involved was not on my agenda. I wasn't feeling a relationship, a lover, or even a one-night stand. At that time, I wanted no part of a man. No matter the cost, I tried to avoid the roller coaster of abuse and pain that comes with relationships.

I felt him watching, then he walked toward me. For some strange reason, my heart began to beat faster. A man I didn't know was having this kind of effect on me. He hadn't said anything to me or touched me, but I felt his presence. Since I had purposely avoided men for over two years, my reaction was not a good sign.

He stopped in front of me, but I looked away, ignoring his presence. Before I could decide what I wanted to say, he whispered, "Can I have you?"

I raised my head and looked into his eyes. I thought about how sweet his body smelled and how I felt his energy flowing through me. The chemistry was there, and girl, was I feeling every wave of his electricity. Looking very serious, I stared deep into his eyes and answered him by asking, "For how long and to do what with?" Even though I could've gotten naked right then and there, I knew I had to give him the obligatory hard time. Mama ain't raise no hoe.

He seemed confused by my response and asked me to repeat it. I confidently replied, "Did you or did you not ask me if you could have me?"

Looking even more perplexed, Mike responded, "Yeah."

I think he may have thought I was crazy or something, so I made clear to him that I knew exactly what I was doing.

"Well, I am asking you how long do you want me, and while you have me, what do you want to do with me? How I answer your question depends on how you answer mine." He, for some reason, found himself at a loss for words. So I continued, speaking very slowly and clearly: "Do you want me for a month, a week, or one night? Do you want to talk to me, hold me, make love to me, fuck me, or what? Exactly what do you want?"

He touched my hand and said, "I don't know how long I want you, but I want you now, tonight. Let me take you to a new level of pleasure, and give you the one thing I know no one else can give you, true ecstasy."

"Ecstasy!" I thought to myself. "I hope this fool don't think I'm taking some dope with him. I may have smoked a joint every now and then, but I ain't no dope fiend. Now, if he just talkin' about physical ecstasy then we can work something out, cause the nigga is so sexy."

I stood up, leaned in close and asked, "How are you supposed to do that?"

"Please don't let him say 'by taking this'," I prayed.

He gently lifted my chin and said in his deep, raspy voice, "Let me show you."

I stroked him lightly on the side of his face, licked his lips, and whispered, "Let's go."

I followed Mike to his car; I didn't have a second thought about what I wanted this man to do. The image of our naked bodies intertwined excited me. At the same time, I tried not to imagine what the night would be like because I didn't want to be disappointed. You know how sometimes you expect so much, but get so little? I know ya feel me!

The road seemed to disappear into the darkness as we drove. His radio played one of those old school Prince songs that makes you feel all freaky. Damn, he smelled even better with the windows rolled up. It was a light cinnamon musk oil that must've been spread over his body. It all seemed like a late-night R&B music video, until the car slowed down in front of a hotel. For some reason my heart started beating fast like I was about to run a race or something. "Candice, get a grip on yourself, it's only a dick, not like you never had one before," I had to say to myself to calm down.

We checked in without speaking; our eyes said it all. Once we were in the room, I told him I wanted to take a quick shower, but he said that the smell of my body excited him. He wanted me just the way I was. I thought to myself, "I have to buy more of this body gel."

Then it all hit me. "What in the world am I doing?" Candice, you better than this. I can't do this. No . . . no, I can do this. Life ain't stopping because my panties ain't been dropping, but I have to do things on my terms.

Still possessing some doubt, I turned to him and said, "I haven't made love to a man in over two years, so I don't know why I want you, but I do. We don't know each other, but right now that doesn't matter because we're already here."

Before I could say another word, he put his sweet lips on mine, and we kissed passionately. He tasted delicious. I knew he had been drinking, but I didn't taste or smell the liquor. This excited me even more. He was naturally sweet.

As our mouths parted, I swept my tongue along my bottom lip. Hmmm . . . I could still taste beads of his sugary juices in my mouth.

I began to undress, but he stopped me.

"I don't want you to do anything; just enjoy what I'm about to do."

In a tone just above a whisper, he told me, "Lie down, I'll unwrap you in due time."

As I watched him take his clothes off, my body shivered all over. His body was sculptured like a chocolate-covered Hercules and did not have an ounce of fat on it. As I admired his beautiful body, I closed my eyes and knew that this was going to be good. His D was so pretty, not huge, but it was above average with a slight curve to it.

When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me. His dark, piercing eyes said that he wanted me, and he wanted me badly.

He lay down next to me and held me in his granite-chiseled arms. As he ran his hands through my hair, he whispered, "Relax," and lightly kissed my ears. While he was licking my ears, he said, "I know that this is going to be special, so I don't want to rush this. We have all night, so let's make the best of it."

I don't know why, but this moment felt like my first time. Only this time around, I wasn't cramped in the backseat of a car. And I definitely knew how to drive a stick now.

While he unbuttoned my shirt, he promised not to disappoint me. Tenderly, he said, "If there is something you need or want tonight, and I don't do it exactly the way you want me to, tell me. Tonight is your night, and I want to give you everything you have been missing and more."

Yeah, yeah, I know. The man is what most women dream about, he is fine, sexy as hell, and unselfish behind closed doors. What more can a woman ask for?

He kissed me again and told me to turn over. As I lay on my stomach, he simultaneously massaged my back and legs, and gave me little wet kisses and lustful licks all up and down my spine. I was feeling so good that my body began to move slowly. All I could do was tremble uncontrollably.

He moved me over on my back and gently kissed my breasts. He licked and kissed my breasts so softly that I found myself saying, "Oh I want you, I want you now."

In a low, barely audible rumble, he replied, "No, not yet; I haven't finished loving your body."

Then, he massaged my feet and kissed my toes. As he rubbed, licked, and kissed every part of my feet and legs, he caressed my inner thigh. I couldn't do anything but tell him how good he was making me feel.

"Ewww baby, don't stop. That feels so good."

The slight touch of the tip of his tongue on my clit sent me out of control. I moaned loudly, hoping that the sinful pleasures would never end. After he rubbed me, licked me, and caressed me from head to toe, front to back, and did not miss a spot, he whispered in my ear, "Do you want it now?"

I whimpered, "Yes, please, give it to me, give it to me now. But first put your condom on." Like I said before, Mama ain't raise no hoe, or should I say, Mama ain't raise no fool.

He obliged.

"Now it's time."

When he entered me, I screamed, not from pain, but in total ecstasy. I didn't remember it being this good, and I knew that no one had ever made love to me like this before. He was so gentle with me.

He kissed me, passionately, as he moved so perfectly inside me. We changed positions while he stayed inside me. Each position felt better than the one before. We carried on for most of the night, and it was feeling so damn good. So damn good!

I finally begged him to stop, and I cried as I told him that I couldn't take any more. I cried because I couldn't do anything else. After all of the moaning, screaming, and yelling, all that was left were my tears. Sex had never been so good that it made me cry. When I cried, he came.

He asked me if he gave me everything I needed and wanted. I told him he gave me everything and more, and he gave me what he promised, ecstasy.

He held me close to him for the rest of the night, and I melted in his arms. It all felt so perfect. When we woke up later Saturday morning, we showered together and started all over. I don't know how long we made love, but afterward, we held each other again.

Being in his arms was like being in a warm blanket on a cold winter morning. I was a woman again. Actually, I was a woman for the first time.

We called room service for brunch and slept for most of the day. When we woke up, we got dressed, hugged, and said our good-byes. As he asked me for my phone number, I put my finger on his lips so he couldn't finish. I said, "Let's just leave it here. I really enjoyed you and I thank you for what you gave me, but I am not ready for anything more." I continued to look into his eyes and said, "I really felt like I loved you last night."

This all seemed like a scene from one of those new black movies. You know, the ones with beautiful people doing things you thought you could never do, but always wanted to.

I gave him a long passionate kiss, said thank you, and walked off. It took everything in my body not to look back; I knew that if I had, I would have never left.

The drive home was pleasant. I smiled as I thought about the night. For Mike, it was probably just a screw. For me, it was the beginning of the rest of my life. The hurt and pain of my last relationship won't stop me from loving again, but now I'm doing it by my rules. I had forgotten how good it feels to give myself to a man. It was a beautiful experience, but I knew that it was only for one night, and no more.

As I continued to think about the night, the phone rang. It was Toi. "Girl, where have you been? I've been trying to reach you all night."

I told her that I had met this man, gone to bed with him, and that it was the best lovin' I'd ever had.

Shouting in my ear, she screamed in excitement, "Stop lying girl, stop lying! No you didn't let some nigga tear down the cobwebs! I don't believe you. Meet me for breakfast in the morning. I want to hear every little nasty detail."


A good woman is supportive of

her man in every way,

But he doesn't appreciate her

no matter what she does or say,

He disrespects her and always

seems to tear her down,

And when she really needs him

he can not be found,

Let him go, you don't need him

You are a precious pearl,

Ladies, remember . . .

it's a woman's world

We decided to meet at Grandma's Restaurant, which is located in the hood across the street from a park. While I was waiting for Toi and Amber to arrive, two guys sitting in the booth in front of me began flirting. They were winking, sticking their tongues out, and rubbing on their Johnsons; acting like pure fools. There is just no hope for some niggas. I actually felt sorry for these two because they really didn't have a clue.

Who I really felt sorry for were the women that liked this type of stupidness. I realized a long time ago that men only do things that somebody responds to. And with all the dumb women around here, I'm sure that some of their stupid antics have pulled in many a number, and probably gotten them some booty too.

I ignored their sexually harassing advances; not only were they ignorant, but both of them were tore up from the floor up.

I know he is not coming over to talk to me, oh no, don't come over . . . stop, stop . . . "Hi, what's your name?" I really wanted to ignore him, but I didn't. It's not like me to break a brotha's self-esteem down, so I sat as he talked about nothing.

"Blah, blah, blah . . . you so fine. Blah, blah, and smart too," he uttered.

When I finally decided to look up at him, the only thing I could see was that booger hanging from his nose. I didn't look at him again because the big crusty green hunk of mucus made me sick. Every other word he said he sniffed snot back, "ssnnaa," up his nose, like a small child would do.

Girl, what do men be thinking about? They should at least make sure their nose is clean and their breath ain't stinkin' before they come in ya face. And a nigga wonder why a female act like she don't want to be bothered. Half of the time the nigga that approach you ain't worth yo time anyway, but you take a chance, because you are lonely, knowing that it ain't gonna amount to nothin'. Months later, you mad at yourself thinking, "Damn, that's one dick I could've done without."

Finally, I got tired of looking at that nasty green booger stuck to his nose, so I touched my nose, trying to give him a sign—but no, it didn't work.

I couldn't take it any longer, "You have a booger hanging from your nose."

He kept talking for a few more seconds before he stopped.

"Who me?"

"No you."

Girl, can you believe this nasty Negro wiped the booger with his hand. Now that really bothered me. What happened to good old home training? I don't know this man's mama, but she needs to beat his raggedy behind.

I said, "You should probably go wash your hands before you eat." I was actually thinking, "Before you try to shake my hand or touch me."

He got up with a "why you worried, bitch" look on his face and walked toward the bathroom still twirling the booger around on his finger tips.

I watched him because I knew what was coming next . . . I'd be god damn; no he didn't. This fool put the booger in his mouth! He ate the damn thang. Nasty nigga, just a nasty, nasty nigga! My stomach turned watching this mess. To take my mind off his nastiness, I had to think about something else, something more pleasant.

I looked out the window and realized how beautiful the day was. The sun was shining, and it wasn't even noon yet. Lakes Park was full of people. This is not surprising; every time I eat at Grandma's, there is always something going on in the neighborhood.

Kids played ball in the streets, teenagers snuck kisses and the old men argued over dominoes. But I have also seen dozens of fights, and late at night, people getting booty in their cars and in the park.

You grow up fast in the hood. Everything happens around you. Whether you want it to be a part of your surroundings or not, it becomes a part of you.

Life is just one big cycle. The same things go on at Lakes Park now that were going on back in the day, when I was a child. The only change is that the park is more run-down, but since they put a police station right next to it the dealers are selling less dope out of it.

Walking to school in fifth grade, I saw drug dealers on the street corners waiting for the next crack addict to come and spend their kid's welfare checks. During school hours, the rich folks' kids that lived in Palm Beach would drive across the bridge to buy drugs. When the hustlers saw the Bentleys, Mercedes, or limousines coming over the bridge, they would literally kill to make the sell. They knew that at least a thousand dollars would be spent in one transaction. With N.W.A., Kool G Rap, and Ice-T banging out of everybody's radio, the whole vibe was like New Jack City or something.

By the time I was in high school, I was friends with most of the hustlers on the streets. They watched out for me. I never had any girlfriends back home. They all hated me, because I excelled at everything I did and accomplished every goal I had set for myself. They expected me to fail since my mother was on crack, but I used her problems to strengthen and encourage me. Watching my mom fall apart helped me to know at an early age what I didn't want in my life. Compared to the kids in my hood, I stood out like a basketball player in Japan. I was taller than most girls, red-skinned, and had a head full of curly locks. I made all A's in school and was captain of the track team. I wasn't afraid to take or give a butt whipping. I looked like a pushover, but everyone knew that I would fight if I had to and win by any means necessary.

The older I became, the more the hustlers tried to make me one of their "girls." It's funny; I never fell into the trap. I didn't give up the coochie easy, but I did get money from them. I made them think that if they were good to me, then maybe they would get to paradise. I had what they wanted, a tight virgin twat. And they definitely had what I wanted—money.

Don't get me wrong, my life at home wasn't exactly horrible. I had the mere basics needed to survive. I ate one meal a day instead of three. I wore store brand clothes and shoes, instead of name brand. That was more than my mom could afford when she was living and before she got on crack, but I wanted more. I wanted what the superstars seemed to have, everything. No, "I wanted it all." And then some.

Hanging out with hustlers made me realize that there had to be a better way out. I wanted more for my mom and me. I knew that one day I would have all that I wanted. It upset me that my mom died before she could enjoy my success with me.

Ambition is a mother. If you desire something enough, there isn't nothing that can stop you from getting it.

I would drive across the bridge to Palm Beach and cruise Ocean Boulevard just to look at the huge mansions on the coast. Everyone had a mansion over there—John F. Kennedy's family, the Kellogg's cereal owner, Donald Trump, and a lot more people I can't think of right now. The huge iron gates that opened on demand, with the long driveways lined with hundreds of pine trees leading up to the main house, excited me.

I wanted to live like the people in Palm Beach and I wasn't going to let anything or anyone stop me.

I had to make a plan that ensured my success. No matter what it took, I was going to have it all.

During my college years, I didn't give it up for free and love wasn't in my vocabulary. I learned how to play the street game at an early age. I knew how to get the money I needed without compromising my self-respect. I drove a new Camaro at Florida A&M University and owned a three-bedroom house by the end of my first year.

Not bad for an average girl from the hood, huh?

I rented two of the rooms out, one to Amber and the other to Toi. We have been best friends ever since those days, though I have different friendships with each of them.

I remember Amber talking to someone on the phone one night; she didn't know I was listening. I never had girls around me that weren't jealous of me, so her description was surprising. She said, "She's beautiful, sexy and classy." The person she was talking to must have asked her to describe me in more detail, because she continued, "Well, she's tall and statuesque, has a body like a model with curves, nice full breasts, exotic striking features with big brown eyes that tantalize those who come in contact with her. She knows what she wants and is not afraid to go and get it. She always has a master plan and backup plans. The word 'can't' is not a part of her vocabulary. She is very confident, but not cocky. She doesn't try to prove herself because she says that she knows who she is. She's outgoing and some might consider her aggressive. She loves a good challenge. She is kindhearted and sweet, but no punk."

Damn, I thought I was the only one who knew I was that tight. I'm just joking, but I was flattered by her compliments.

As I listened to Amber, I knew that we would be friends. Most women can't say anything positive about another woman, but she made me sound almost perfect.

My hard work was finally paying off. People were beginning to see me as a success already.


On Sale
Aug 24, 2005
Page Count
208 pages