Bratva Jewels Box Set

Chapter 1

TOMAS

“Fucking bloodsucking scum!” Mateo yells angrily as we’re ushered into the waiting limousine by our bodyguards, who are keeping the crowd of paparazzi from us.

The homophobic slurs spew from their lips as they attempt to get us to react to them, so they can claim the money shot.

Fuck them.

We are so sick of these damn gossip magazines demanding their pound of flesh from us with a constant barrage of speculation guessing if we are simply best friends or lovers.

Our private life is not for sale.

Mateo and I sit in silence as the cameras’ illuminating flashes subside as darkness slips over us the further away we get from that disaster. Turning, I look over at my best friend and can see the tension and stress etched across his face as he stares out the window.

“Tonight was a success,” I say, trying to defuse Mateo’s tension.

“Did you see how many people were there for you tonight, Mateo?” I add, hoping to remind him what tonight was truly about before they ambushed us.

“Everyone loved your work, everyone loved you,” I remind him, trying to pull him back from his angry thoughts. I will not let those assholes ruin his night tonight.

“Of course, they loved you, look at you. What’s not to love?” I chuckle knowing it’s hard for Mateo to pass up a compliment, but there’s only silence.

“You should be so proud of yourself. You will probably sell out of your artwork by tomorrow. I’m so proud of you,” I tell him, letting my hand rest on his thick thigh, hoping to refocus him.

Mateo grunts, his whole body is tense.

He should be jumping around like crazy after tonight’s event.

He’s dreamed for as long as I’ve known him about having a gallery exhibition for his artwork and tonight, he did it debuting to critical acclaim.

But instead of celebrating, he’s lost in that head of his, worrying about those damn paparazzi and the hateful words that fell from their mouths.

I will not let them take away what he has accomplished tonight or the enjoyment of seeing his dreams come to life.

Mateo moves, and I watch as he presses the button for the privacy screen. It creeps up and shuts firmly, separating us from our driver and bodyguard.

“Mateo?”

Mateo takes a couple of deep breaths as tension swirls between us.

“Fuck ‘em,” he curses before launching himself at me, which catches me off guard. He presses me hard back into the soft leather of the limousine’s seat as his thick thighs rest on either side of mine, squeezing and holding me in place.

Those large biceps of his flex against the material of his shirt as he holds onto the back of my seat, restraining himself from ripping my clothes off.

If that is what he needs, who am I to deny him? Why should I?

Did you see how hot he looked tonight? Dressed casually in his trusty dirty denim jeans, the ones that mold to his famous ass.

Paired with his signature tight T-shirt that clings to every inch of his body.

A body that is plastered on underwear billboards all over Spain, the same one that has caused car accidents when drivers get distracted by his enormous bulge that is twenty feet high.

The same man the nation swoons over nightly, watching him as the bare-chested, dirty-talking, bad boy on Ama a tu vecino (Love Thy Neighbor), the highest-rating soap opera on Spanish TV.

“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you look tonight, Tomas?” Mateo growls at me.

The sound sends shivers over my body.

“You know what this navy suit does to me, Tomas?” Mateo asks, raising a brow at me as his finger slides down the lapel of my jacket.

“Teasing me, tempting me.” He huffs. “Making me want to lose fucking control.” He curses as his hand wraps around my navy tie which hangs loosely around my neck as a sly smile falls across his pink lips.

“And yet you still wore it like the little slut you are.”

This is true.

Mateo tightens his grip on my tie which slides toward my throat.

“I had to watch while women flirted with you all night. Do you have any idea how jealous that makes me?”

Yes, I do. I deal with it daily from his fans.

Like tonight, for example, women had their hands all over him as if his body was public property. Like they had the right to him because they feel as if they know him. People can separate Mateo in real life from Mateo on their screens.

I want to scream at them and tell them to keep their hands off because he is mine …

but I can’t. We are both firmly in the closet.

I’m reduced to the ever-present best friend role.

I hate our public masks, but we have no choice, Mateo’s career hinges on his availability to women.

His character on the show is Carlos Hernandez, a man known for his legendary bedroom skills, who seduces all the women on the show.

No one wants to know the truth about Mateo, that he’s bisexual but these days he leans more towards cock than pussy.

I’m as much to blame for us being in the closet as Mateo is.

My father is the leader of the National Family Party, one of Spain’s biggest conservative political parties.

The last thing my father needs is for his followers to learn the leader’s son likes to swing both ways.

Not that I owe my father anything, but I do it for my mother to keep the peace for her with him.

My brother Dario and I have forged our own paths well away from the family politics, falling into property development together, which has made us both very rich.

“I had to stand there and listen to some pompous, rich dick going on and on about the lightness of my brush strokes, the surrealism of my coloring, or some shit like that. I couldn’t give a fuck about what he was saying because your ass distracted me in that suit, as did the women trying to take it home too.

” Those chocolate-colored eyes narrow on me. “You are mine.”

His jealousy makes me smile because it’s nice that he’s gotten to experience a small portion of what I do.

“Your ass looked like a fresh peach in those tight suit pants, and all I could think about was that I wanted a taste.”

A large hand moves to my crotch, palming it through my suit pants, each stroke across it has it thickening with need.

“I also know what lies underneath these pants.”

He squeezes me, making me groan with need.

“I love your cock, Tomas.”

He squeezes tighter, and a predatory smile flashes across his face before nimble fingers unzip my pants. Mateo pushes his hand down into my underwear as his warm hand wraps around me, making me his as our skin connects.

“You like it more when my mouth’s wrapped around it, don’t you?” he asks, giving my aching cock another hard squeeze as he chuckles darkly, teasing me.

My dick is hard, so fucking hard, but the drive from Ibiza Town to our home isn’t very long, and as much as I want him to drop to his knees on the limousine floor and use that dirty-talking mouth on me, I know we don’t have time.

“Mateo.” His name comes out as a groan and a warning.

“Yes? Tell me, what do you want? What do you need from me?”

My head’s clouded with lust and desire. Mateo’s deep voice reaches into my soul and tugs at the very essence of me. I can never deny him.

Never.

“I need your mouth, fuck, I need it so much. But we don’t have time,” I say, glancing out the window. “We are about ten minutes from home.”

Mateo moves off me, and I hate the feeling, before falling to his knees on the limousine floor.

“Mateo.”

He shakes his head, pushes open my legs, and nestles himself between them.

“I’ll only need five.”

I stare down into his desire-filled eyes. How can I deny this man? I can’t. With the smallest of nods in his direction I give him my consent.

He reaches inside my pants and pulls me from their restraint, he lets my cock spring free and slap against my stomach.

“Fuck, Tomas, look at you, you are so fucking ready for me,” Mateo growls, licking the salty liquid off my slit.

It feels like heaven as my head falls back against the seat and my eyes close as warm wet lips wrap around the sensitive head.

My fingers automatically brush through his lush, dark, cocoa-colored hair.

Mateo hums eagerly around my cock, causing white sparks of heat to shoot up my spine.

He sucks me deeper into his mouth, taking me all the way to the back of his throat. I love hearing him choke on it.

Opening my eyes, I look down at him, Mateo looks like a fucking angel worshipping me on his knees.

I love this man so much. Those chocolate eyes look up at me with nothing but need, desire, and love.

My heart wants to burst right open and shower him with all this love I feel for him.

Mateo would laugh if he heard the poetic shit I’m spouting in my head right now.

The strait-laced, aloof, demanding, cutthroat businessman.

Whereas Mateo is the tortured, artistic soul, the bouncing Labrador puppy, the loud and crazy one.

Complete opposites who are attracted to each other.

Next thing I know, everything fades to black, and my entire body feels as if it’s floating high in space and then I’m falling, falling back to earth.

“Fuck, you taste good,” Mateo says, licking his lips.

Shit, I blew my load and didn’t even realize I was so lost in my thoughts.

“I can’t wait to get you home and fuck your tight little hole.” Mateo grins as he gets off the floor, looking happy with himself.

I’m speechless, utterly speechless.

“I love it when I make you come so fast that you can’t speak.” Mateo leans over and presses a chaste kiss against my prickly cheek. “Told you I could make you come in five minutes.”

My heart is still racing as I busily tuck myself back in.

Moments later, the limousine stops at our gate, and Mateo gives my hand a quick squeeze, giving me a look that tells me he is going to devour me as soon as we are alone in our summer house here in Ibiza.

The car has stopped for longer than it normally would for the gates to open. Mateo presses the button to bring down the privacy screen and talks to the driver.

“What’s going on?” Mateo asks.

“Something is blocking the gate, Sir. Francisco is checking it out,” the driver advises.

Mateo and I jump out of the limousine to see our bodyguard staring down at something lying in front of the gates.

“Stay back,” Francisco hisses at Mateo and me.

When we look down again, we realize it’s a bloodied body.