This is my one-shot for the Confessions of a Sinner series.

Just wanted to give you a little heads up, this is OOC. What can I say, though, GREED changes people…

Big thanks to Acireamos for making it all pretty and enjoyable for ya'll to read. She's some kind of wonderful!!


You want this job. You deserve this job. You've practically told everyone in your family that you already have this job.

Angela Webber, Personal Stylist of Mr. Benjamin Cheney has a better ring to it then Angela Webber, Personal Slave of Mr. Benjamin Cheney.

Don't get your hopes up. It's definitely not the good kind of slave.

I am the coffee and bagel bitch. The lunchtime tuna on rye sandwich runner. The designated office opener when he has a hangover and office closer when he leaves early to schmooze his flavor of the week.

So, why do I stick around? Because he is the Benjamin Cheney. Award winning director, Benjamin Cheney. Frequent guest on the Forbes Wealthiest Men list, Benjamin Cheney.

It doesn't hurt he's not bad to look at either. His dark hair is always combed perfectly back, and skin is a flawless L.A. tan. He has nice wide shoulders for a slender build, and deep brown eyes that anyone could get lost in.

His attitude takes him down a few notches on the hotness meter, though. I don't think I have ever heard him talk in anything lower than a mind numbing scream. Oh, and his mouth. Either he was sailor in a past life or his kindergarten teacher taught him an alphabet where "A" stand for asshole not apple.

That's ok though, because the things I have planned call for a little yelling and cursing.

Which is fine with me. I was willing to do whatever it took to get this job.

Fashion has always played a huge role in my life, but it has been more from a design aspect. All through school I dreamed of joining a Broadway production team in hopes of working alongside costume designers like Susan Hilferty and William Ivey Long. I even stayed an extra year so that I could earn my A.A. degree in Theatre Costume Design. After spending three years at the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising, I was yet to use most of my education in the work force. Unfortunately, none of my classes taught me how to use my iPhone to find the best doughnuts in the city.

So, this was huge, in more ways than one. My bank account surely wasn't going to complain.

Would I get weekends off? No. Was my lifelong dream to shop for someone? No. Was the pay three times as much as I made now? Yes.

Don't get me wrong, I live a very comfortable life. I have a small condo with a small veranda and a small garage, but in a city like L.A. the only thing you want to be able to describe as small are a cocktail party and the size of your pores.

Here, yachts are the new summer accessory, Botox is the new moisturizer, and money is the new…well I don't think money ever gets old.

Whoever said, "Money can't buy happiness" apparently never owned an American Express Black card. Not that I have either, but I've the seen the faces of the proud owners as they sashay down Melrose Avenue. The perfectly unwrinkled smiles and bleached white teeth sure don't say, "I'm crying on the inside".

I glanced into the mirror on the visor flipped down in front of me and sighed.

Who am I kidding; all I could do now is cry on the inside. My mascara isn't waterproof and I don't feel like taking another trip to Sephora this week.

Surprisingly, I don't like to shop. I know, I know, looks like I'm trying for the wrong job then, right? Wrong, so very wrong. I might not enjoy shopping, but I do enjoy the finer things in life, and ImightwanttokeepJessicaStanleyfromgettingthejob.

Just saying.

Jessica Stanley is Mr. Benjamin's weekend assistant, the thorn in my side for the last two and half years, and the only person who probably wants this job more than me.

I guess today will be the test to see how hard she is willing to work for it.

I took a right into the parking lot around back and pulled my car into the farthest spot from the door. I had an appointment to meet with Mr. Benjamin at eight before the office actually opened at nine. I was reluctant to make it so early being that he usually didn't roll into the office until around ten, but he insisted he would be there because a new script for a martial arts movie arrived yesterday and he wanted to review it in the morning.

I looked around. My car was the only one in the lot.

That's ok. It was only 7:45 and I need to prepare before his arrival. I unlocked the doors and turned on all the lights. Down a short hall was the entrance to the conference room where all interviews were usually conducted. I removed any stray papers that were strewn about the table and stacked them in the corner before adjusting the deep V in my blouse so it revealed just the right amount of skin.

Preparations complete.

All that is left to do now is to take a seat and wait it out. Luckily, only about five minutes had passed before I heard of the slamming of a car door and the chime of the front door being opened. His heavy steps echoed down the hall until I saw him standing in the doorway.

"Good morning, Angela," he said, head down concentrating on the mail he was flipping through.

"Morning, Mr. Benjamin."

I watched the small smile on his face grow. He liked when I called him Mr. Benjamin.

He took a few steps towards the table before collapsing in one of the leather chairs and tossing the mail on the glossy wood. "So, why did you need to meet with me this morning?"

I exhaled a relaxing breath and began to walk to him hoping I could do this without making a complete ass of myself. I had never tried to seduce a guy before. Bleh. Seduced…that sounds so The Graduate-ish.

Well, here's to you, Mrs. Robinson.

I'm not totally insane, though. I didn't wake up this morning thinking that I should go into work and seduce my boss. It has been almost three years of non-stop flirting and innuendos. I can't ask him what time he's getting off anymore without him saying, "I don't know, depends on what time you're coming over".

But, this will be my first time to initiate it. I think part of the fun for him is that I laugh it off and walk away. He could get any woman he wants, so the fact that I'm not humping his leg like a dog in heat is a turn on.

Until today. His reaction, though, is going to be is still up in the air.

He was leaning casually back in his chair watching me make my way towards him. Either he had just rolled out of bed, or he never went to sleep because his hair was mess and his five o'clock shadow was making an early appearance. His charcoal suit was as flawless as ever.

I stopped walking when I was a few inches from his slightly parted legs. "I know you are trying to keep it quiet that Lauren quit, but I was hoping you would consider me for the position before you listed the job."

He opened his mouth to talk, but I cut him off.

I started to move behind him. "I've been working here for a while now, so you know firsthand that I'm dedicated and hardworking. Also, you know that I graduated from FIDM last year and I have some experience working in costume design, so not only do I know about styles for the season, but textures, fabrics, skin tone" I bent over, positioning my chest by his face so I could run my hands up his arm, "and what looks sexiest on a man."

He squirmed in his seat slightly.

That's a good sign, right?

His head looked to the left as he tilted his arm up. I was still standing behind him, but it was obvious he was looking at his watch. "You have ten minutes. Make it good." He was trying to sounds stern but I could hear the interest in his voice.

"Ok, well I was wondering if I could should show you something that I designed myself?"

His messy strands of hair moved up and down as he nodded.

I twisted my black pencil skirt so that the zipper was resting on my side and easier to pull down. The skirt skimmed past my hips and fell to the ground. Bending over, I retrieved the pile of fabric and draped it over Benjamin's right shoulder. He cocked his head to get a closer look at the offending material. I grabbed the hem of my sweater and lifted it over my head in one quick motion then rested it lightly on his other shoulder. His head turned just as before.

Instead of walking around in front of him, I placed my hands on either side of the back rest of the chair and spun him around to face me. I took two steps back so he could get a better look.

I know I'm never going to need to create lingerie for him, but it was my favorite thing that I had designed so far. Not to mention, it sure did grab his attention.

It was a black lace demi bra with a small rose colored bow at the end of each strap. I had also lined the bottom in a delicate rose ruffle. The underwear, if you could call it that, was a simple black v-string. There was tiny rose bow in the middle, but the lace garter belt holding up my stockings was covering it.

The look of pure shock and dare I say lust on his face made me weak in the knees, and very happy that I settled for a pair of kitten heels instead of the three inch stilettos I was contemplating this morning.

"I wanted to go with two contrasting colors in my design. Using the pink on such on a deep, rich tone like black, automatically draws yours eyes here," I ran my hands along the straps and over the tiny bow before lightly brushing them over thin material on my chest. I exhaled a light moan. "And here". My hands continued to move south until I reached the belt and shifted it so that I could reveal the pink silk bow tangled in the sea of lace. His eyes greedily devoured every inch of my body as I touched it.

I stepped towards him, closing the space between us and stopped when I felt the rough wool of his pants tickle my legs.

I was fighting back a blush that probably made me look like a ripe tomato so I held my head high, closed my eyes, and started to run through my affirmations.

You want this. You deserve this. You want this. You deserve this.

When those thoughts started to become "You want to make a run for the door" and "You deserve a Whopper Jr. from Burger King", I decided on a new strategy. I started to list everything I would buy with my new pay raise.

Houndstooth coat from Bloomingdale's.

Leather boots from Nordstrom.

Burberry scarf from NeimanMarcus.

Oh, and those Ginsu knives that I always see on TV at two in the morning.

You want this. You deserve this.

I opened my eyes after feeling the heat leave my cheeks and continued on my interview. "While this," I pointed up and down my body in true Vanna White style "might be a little small for you, I wanted to show you that I am comfortable working with different textures and fabrics. Feel." I grabbed his hand and ran it along the bottom edge of my bra, watching the small wave his fingers made in the silk detail. I bent over at the waist, pushing my butt out, "Soft, isn't it?"

His groan of approval was better than a nod or actual spoken confirmation.

I snapped away quickly causing his head to jerk up so his eyes could follow my chest. I cleared my throat and he was back to looking at my face. "Since I'm not going to be shopping for myself, I should probably tell you what I would do with your wardrobe."

I put both my legs on either side of his and pushed them together so that I straddle his lap. I was careful not to put all my weight in his legs but I still wanted him to feel me, so I leaned forward to where his nose was skimming the front of my barely-there bra. I could feel the warm air he was blowing onto the exposed top half of breast, and I'm pretty sure he could see the effect it was having through the thin material. I stopped in the middle of pushing his jacket off his arms and looked down. I shifted so that my mouth next to his ear and whispered, "I guess it's getting cold in here, maybe we should turn up the heat."

He shivered. I smiled.

"I don't want to take of your jacket if you are getting cold chills," I breathed into his ear.

"Uh…no," he cleared his throat. "I…I'm good. You can…er…continue."

So, I did. I ran my hands along his shoulder muscles and down his arms taking his jacket with me. When it was finally removed, I stood up and placed it on the table.

I backed up and took at good look at him. "Much better. That jacket was too stuffy for you. Actually," I walked around the back of the chair again and flipped his collar up. I trailed my hands along his pecs until I found the knot in his tie. I moved it from side to side so that it would loosen and then lifted it over his head. I swung the chair around again so that he was facing me. "this tie doesn't work either. Ties draw attention away from your firm shoulders. Your style is much more carefree and modern." I brought the tie over my head and let it fall loosely around my neck, landing perfectly between my breasts.

I bent over his lap again and reset his collar back to how it was before. My fingers followed the seams before making their way to the buttons. I started to pop each button slowly, meticulously out of each hole.



"While a white shirt is classic, very timeless, it does nothing for your skin tone with that red tie and bulky jacket.



I could see the tiny hairs trying to escape through the opening that was being left behind. When I was about half way down, I stopped and placed a feather light kiss where the shirt met his skin. "Your skin is such a beautiful shade of caramel and your face has a faint hint of pink in the cheeks and nose, so I would love to see you in more navy blues and deep greens."


After I released the last button from its holder, I un-tucked the shirt from his pants. I followed the same routine as with his jacket but this time I was able to feel his warm skin ghost along my palms. I could see he was straining the muscles in his neck and his fists were clasped tightly around the edge of the chair.

I slipped each one of my arms through the holes of his shirt and rolled up the sleeves so they were three-quarter length on me. I didn't worry about any of the buttons and let it remain open and draped over my body. I looked down at myself and then glanced at him. His whole body was tense. He looked like a man waiting for someone to flip the switch on the electric chair. I could tell he was about to bust out of his seat, or maybe his pants so I needed to work fast. His head rolled forward and he stared at my mouth through heavy lids as I chewed on my lip. I could see his tongue through the small opening in his mouth caress his bottom lip.

My body shivered.

"Good thing you have that shirt to keep you warm." His voice was raw and rough and strong and everything I wanted him to do to me.

I smirked. "Good thing."

When my mind finally cleared, I went back to my place in front of him and dropped to my knees. I placed my fingers on either hip and scrapped my nails along the waist of his pants until they met in the middle. One hand tugged on the belt while the other pulled the zipper down with ease.

I made sure to never look up, but I could feel the heat of his stare on the top of my head. I started to talk again as he lifted his ass off the chair so that I could move his pants from his waist and push them down towards his shoes. "These are a great color, but the pockets and fit are all wrong. You should do off-seam pockets with a traditional trouser fit, something straight through the hip and thigh." When his pants were in a pool around his feet, I finally looked up at him. His front teeth were racking over his bottom lip and his chest was rising and falling more rapidly than before.

He watched me intently as my hands found their way to his bare ankles. They slowly climbed up his legs. I could feel his coarse hair as my hands worked past his calves and rounded his knees. I tuned my fingers into my palms so that the tops brushed along the inside of his thighs. When I reached the bottom hem of his boxers, his hands were on top of mine. My eyes followed his head as it moved side to side.


He was telling me no.

After all this…rejection.

I shook my head, mimicking his. I slowly rose to my feed and turned my back to him. I wasn't going to cry. I was a big girl. There was no humiliation, just shock. I thought he wanted this. At least he always acted like that's what he wanted. Then it hit me.

I'm going to lose my job. Fuck. I'm going to be fired. Shit.

I'm such an idiot. I tried for too much. I took it too far. I should have come in like I do every morning where I smile and nod my way through the day. I should have put in my time and worked my up just like every other schmuck. Now, Benjamin is going to let me go, and no one is ever going to hire his second hand employee. Why did I have to push him?

I stood in front of the table, my back still to him, and shrugged his shirt off my body. It fell to the floor and I kicked it to the side. I placed my palms on the hard wood surface letting my shoulders slouch and allowing my arms to bear most of my weight.

The chair squeaked behind me and I heard the clicking of a metal belt buckle. I was positive he was getting dressed so that he could head back to his office and fill out my pink slip when I felt something grab at me from behind.

One strong arm wrapped around my waist holding me still while the other jerked at the flimsy garter belt, snapping it from my stockings before ripping it from my body completely. He looped a finger around the top of my underwear and yanked it down over the top of my torn hose to my knees.

His chest was flush against my back and when I looked to the right I could see his chin almost resting on my shoulder. My arms were holding up both our weight and I was surprised they didn't buckle when I felt the heel of his palm rub between my legs.

"I wasn't telling you 'no' because I wanted you to stop, I was telling you 'no' because there was no way I was going to allow you to wear more clothes than me." His voice was still deep with lust but I could sense a hint of desperation.

I opened my mouth to talk, but before the words could come out I felt him thrust inside me. He pushed my shoulders father down so that I was leaning on elbows then twisted his fingers into my hair, grabbing at the roots and pulling my head back. I hissed through my teeth. I hadn't realized how much my little fashion show had gotten me worked up as well.

Each thrust was deeper, more frantic. We weren't working to any rhythm, just the sound of his skin against mine. His grunt to my plea of "harder" or "faster". His moan to my whimper.

I could feel him move his tie around my neck so that it would hang down my back instead of my chest. His hands ran under my bra and began to massage my breasts with the same force he used to push into me. He shoved the bra higher, exposing all of me to the cold air. When I looked straight ahead, I could see him watching our reflection in the spotless floor to ceiling window in front of us.

"More," I begged. "I need more."

He grabbed the loose tie and coiled the fabric around his hand, holding it like a rein. He pulled back, lifting my body from its hunched position over the table so that that I was standing up straight with my back arched in front of him.

I gasped and whispered a muffled "fuck" from the sensation of the new position. I could hear his unsteady breathing in my ear and feel his heart pounding against my shoulder.

"Please, more." His pace quickened, giving away everything he had.

Seconds later his name was rolling off my lips in rapid succession. I fell forward, back onto my elbows while he grunted a few more times before collapsing on top of me. We stayed like that until we regained feeling in our legs and our hearts stopped beating at the pace of a hummingbird.

He shuffled to the trashcan with his pants still around his ankles, dropped something inside, removed the bag from the can, and tied the opening closed. I heard his pants being lifted back into place and the tinkering of his buckle.

I adjusted my bra and underwear before scanning the room for the rest of my undergarment. I decided to just take off my stockings and finish putting the rest of my clothes on. When I was finally put back together I started to glance around the room again. Benjamin was standing in the corner examining the remains of my garter belt as it hung off of his index finger.

Turning his head to look at me, he said, "I guess when you go out today to buy me a new suit, you should get another one of these." A smirk rested across his face as he lifted his finger and the limp material at me. "Preferably in red."


Oh Angela, Angela, Angela…I always knew I liked her for a reason.


If you want to read the other chapters and see who will be posting next, go check out my profile where I posted a link to the SevenSinners fanfic page.