Free Hollywood Holden: Los Angeles Bad Boys by Frankie Love

after-party.
    "It was cute. I mean, it was what I'd expect from a movie where the punch line is delivered by the couple's dog." The movie was actually dumb as hell, but I'm not going to say that to Holden; he mentioned being friends with the woman who starred in it.
    "Wow, hard sell there, Bex." We climb back into his limo, headed toward Santa Monica. "I didn't realize you'd become such a film critic."
    "I'm not a critic. It was just a little vanilla is all. Generic?"
    He laughs, nodding. "I can't judge this romantic comedy. Johnny Jumper isn't exactly cinematographic brilliance."
    My eyes widen in mock-surprise. "Wait, this was a comedy?"
    "Remind me to never take you to the premier of one of my movies." Holden grimaces. "Don't think my ego could take it."
    "I've seen your movies," I tell him. Of course I have. Every single one. Multiple times. And in every one, he looks sexy as all get-out.
    "And?"
    The limo is flying down the freeway and, while a part of me is curious about a Hollywood party, another part of me would rather be going to his place. To his bedroom.
    "And…." I indulge him, licking my lips, leaning closer to him in the limo where we sit side-by-side. "I can see why millions of American women love you. You play the part of Johnny Jumper well. Sexy, confident, the hero."
    "Why does it feel like you're about to say something that’s gonna wreck my self-esteem?" Holden smirks, running a finger down the length of my bare arm. His touch makes my skin prickle with desire.
    "I'm not judging you, Holden." I smile softly, remembering the premier, the cameras flashing for him, the elite actors and actresses stopping him—not for a photo op, but to say hello. "I think you're pretty incredible. Coming here to LA, making this life for yourself. You rose up from nothing; you had no connections, no money … just a killer smile and the Holden charm."
    He grins, seeming to love the way I'm complimenting him, and I realize that, even though he has so many people fawning over him, maybe he still needs his ego stroked by someone who actually knows where he comes from.
    "Is charm a euphemism for big cock?" he asks, his eyes searing into mine.
    "You tell me," I tease, leaning closer to him. In a daring move, I reach my hand to his crotch, running my fingers over the growing bulge in his tuxedo pants. "Did you sleep your way to the top?"
    He runs his hand over his jaw as the limo pulls up to a lavish mansion.
    "All I know is this: I can't wait until after this party to sleep with you, Bexley."
    "Then let's not go," I tell him, relieved at the idea of not having to face any more of his colleagues tonight. I still need more time with him, to decide if Holden is playing me or not.
    He doesn't hesitate. He calls to the driver and tells him to take us back to his place.
    Then he takes my face in his hands. "I want you out of this dress so fucking bad."
    If this dress wasn't so awkward I'd tell him to pull it off of me right this second. Instead, I lean in, and his mouth covers mine. Heat explodes over my lips as he presses against me. His tongue slides into my mouth, and I’m melting.
    Melting into him, far from the stress of my passive parents and the insecurities of being with him. I sink into his touch, his arms reaching around me, running down my back.
    "I need you, girl," he tells me, whispering in my ear as we pull up to his place.
    "Good." I need him to want me in a desperate way. It makes me feel less vulnerable about going so far out of my comfort zone.
    He opens his front door. It's a gorgeous mansion, very modern. So much black and white that it looks just like my closet.
    "Your place is beautiful," I say as he takes my overnight bag and grabs my hand.
    "You'll get the tour later—right now, I'm taking you to my room."
    He leads me through the house to a massive bedroom. Enormous floor-to-ceiling windows look out at a huge stretch of the Pacific Ocean. It's holy shit amazing. He comes up behind me, wrapping his arms around