Free The Looters by Harold Robbins

doorman that I was expecting someone named Jeffrey and to send him up when he arrived. One thing about Manhattan doormen—they never showed surprise. The ability to always respond with a blank look and nod was a prerequisite for the job.
    My doorbell buzzed thirty minutes later.
    “Your knight in shining armor has arrived,” he said, “and I bring gifts.” He held up a bottle.
    “Great. More champagne.”
    He came inside, nodding his head in approval as he walked around the living room. “Nice place. Great neighborhood, too.”
    “I don’t have any complaints.”
    “So you are part of the rich and famous people.”
    “Not by a long shot.”
    “What exactly do you do?”
    “I’m the curator for the Piedmont Museum.”
    “Ah, so you’re Madison Dupre. You never gave me your last name at the party. I overheard pieces of conversation about you. Made some big purchase at Rutgers for Piedmont. So you work for the rich and famous.”
    I nodded my head. “Are you going to hold that against me?”
    “No.”
    “Okay, now that we’ve got that settled, you can open the champagne while I start the water.” Another glass wasn’t going to hurt me.
    “Start the water?”
    “I feel like soaking in the tub. Want to join me?”
    I caught the look of surprise on his face.
    “Okay. Sounds good to me.”
    I came back dressed only in my bra and panties. I still had my heels on because there was something sexy about wearing high heels with underwear.
    His eyes went up and down my body. “You know, I like you without your dress on.” His lazy gaze over my body made me tremble with excitement.
    We were practically strangers and here I was almost naked in front of this guy. I didn’t care. My body was horny for some sexual satisfaction. I wanted to play with him a little, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could wait.
    “You might like this even more.”
    Unashamedly, I slipped out of my panties and bra. I stood there totally naked in front of him, with heels on.
    He stared, still as a statue, at my body.
    “This is getting better and better. You’re giving me a hard-on, you know.”
    A tremor went down my body. “I’ll give you more than that. Bring the champagne and glasses.”
    I turned and walked to the tub. I shook off my heels and stepped into the perfumed bubble bath. The water was soft and warm. I let the bubbles soak up my body.
    Jeff had stripped out of his clothes on the way to the bedroom. I almost laughed when I saw him in the doorway. He had the champagne in one hand and two glasses in the other and his penis was sticking straight up.
    “What are you waiting for?”
    He stood in the doorway for a minute. “Just admiring the view.”
    “You can admire it in here.”
    The bathtub was big enough for three people. He slipped down in the warm water, then poured the champagne. He also poured some in the tub.
    “Ah, almost like the rich and famous,” he said. He leaned back and closed his eyes.
    “You have a thing about rich people, don’t you?”
    “I find them fascinating to watch.”
    I thought the same thing about him right now.
    He was younger than anyone I’d ever dated, much younger. I stared at his smooth toned body as I sipped my drink. He had no body hair. Male movie stars who went through painful body waxing would be damn envious of it.
    An innocence about him was stimulating. Now I understood why the Huntzbergers wanted someone like Chastity—the exotic thrill of making love to a younger person. Unlike teenagers, who lacked the maturity in mind and body to be sexually interesting, young people in their twenties were fully developed yet treated the body as an exploration of passion and sexual mystery.
    I poured the rest of my drink in the tub and did the same with his.
    I spread my legs apart slowly and moved his fingers over my swollen button. My clitoris was already throbbing.
    “Massage it,” I said, as I leaned back and closed my eyes. I was ready to come any second.
    “Feel good?”