Sinners' Playground (The Harlequin Crew #1) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,130

I could hit triple figures," he purred and save me Lord for I have sinned because fuck me Jesus, that was the darkest, hottest thing I think I'd ever heard someone say.

I was damn tempted to drop to my knees and suck his cock in payment for that. This dude, this total fucking asshole of a dude, just went to bat for my Mutt and all of a sudden I wanted to worship him on my knees.

But no, he was still a mega prick of undeniable proportions, so I wasn't gonna be doing that. But kudos to him for making me consider it.

"I'm sorry," the woman gasped. "I didn't mean it. I-"

"How about you fuck off then before I make good on that threat?" Chase suggested and the woman turned and fled towards her stuff where Mutt had just arrived to pee on her purse.

Best. Dog. Ever.

"Come on, ghost. Fox will be shitting a brick right about now," Chase said, beckoning me after him as he strode up the beach and collected his shit from where he'd tossed it from the pier. As I followed him, my gaze ran over the treasure map inked on his skin with every place I'd ever cared about marked out in the black strokes. I took my cap from him and put it on backwards over my wet hair.

I considered running, but one look at his thick thighs said he'd be fast enough to catch me and I was like three percent curious as to what this mysterious idea he'd given Fox was. And I could just run again easily enough. I was a professional runaway after all.

I whistled for Mutt to follow us as we walked up and off of the beach and Chase led me to the street where he'd parked his midnight blue motorcycle.

"Where is Mutt supposed to go on that?" I asked as Chase kicked his sneakers back on and shrugged into his shirt. I could have suggested we go and get Fox’s truck but I kinda liked the idea of it just sitting there in the street abandoned so I didn’t mention it.

"He can just run along behind us," Chase said dismissively and I folded my arms in a refusal as Mutt started growling like he'd understood that.

"No," I said firmly. "He's only little and it's too far."

"What do you want me to say to that?" Chase asked irritably, reaching out like he intended to force me onto the bike.

Mutt leapt forward and tried to bite his ankles and I smirked as Chase was forced to step back.

“My dog doesn't like you and he's got exceptional taste, so I trust his judgment. And I don't think I'll be taking your offer of a ride after all."

"I literally just watched him eat something out of the trash and then pee on that bitch's purse," Chase accused. "He has terrible taste."

"It was a burrito and that purse was fugly. You're only proving my point." I folded my arms and waited him out and he cursed as he looked back at the bike.

"Fine. I've got my gym bag in here. He can go in that," he snapped. "But if you don't get on right now, I'll hog tie you to the seat and leave him here."

"Fine," I replied, mocking his tone and lifting Mutt into my arms while Chase opened the storage compartment beneath his seat and emptied his gym stuff out into it before handing me the bag.

I took it and let Mutt get in before zipping it up so only his head poked out then put the strap over my body and tightened it up so that he was secure.

Chase rolled his eyes at me then got on the bike and I dutifully hopped on behind him, wrapped my arms around his waist and clung on tight as he accelerated away up the hill. What I hadn’t considered about this little ride was quite how it might feel to wrap my thighs around him, cling onto his muscular torso and feel the deep purr of the engine vibrating through my body. Safe to say, I was having trouble not dropping my hands a little lower and…dick punching him because he was an asshat who I hated. Clearly.

We wound through the familiar streets and were soon pulling onto the drive at Harlequin House where the asshole in chief stepped out of the door before we'd even parked up.

I noticed the guys who had been posted at the gate all looked kinda