Badass Biker Novels & Stories

I followed Reaper's gaze. Idling at the very edge of the jungle treeline, acting as a heavily armed escort for the weary scavengers behind them, was a pack of about fifty outlaw bikers. They didn't ride sleek hover-tech. They rode massive, ear-splitting combustion choppers, rusted and spiked for wasteland warfare. Even from the top of the wall, I could see the patches on their heavy leather cuts. They bore a single, jagged word stitched in crimson: Revers. At the head of the column sat their leader on a monstrous, elongated chopper. Across his rusted gas tank, a brutal, unforgiving motto had been spray-painted in thick white letters: Blood on the asphalt.

"It is everywhere. Simultaneous raids across seventeen states. Every major independent club. All being arrested for weapons trafficking, narcotics distribution, money laundering." Subject Seven moved to the window. "This is not coincidence. This is coordinated elimination. The boy is using federal law enforcement to dismantle every organization that could provide resistance." "Why bikers specifically?" Rebecca demanded. "Why target clubs?" "Because you are organized. Mobile. Independent of government oversight. You have communication networks that bypass standard surveillance. You have resources and loyalty structures that make you dangerous to centralized control." I pulled up my own phone.

But make no mistake: you do not mess with me, my brothers, or their old ladies. ​I climbed down from my bike. The house wasn't completely dead, but it was quiet for a Sunday morning. Most of my club brothers were back home with their women, though a few were definitely upstairs in the clubhouse rooms, hooking up with the club girls. Even the guys with old ladies still mess around at the clubhouse sometimes. I guess their women know exactly what they signed up for when they chose the biker life. But me? I could never imagine cheating on Ella. Once we are together, that's it. She's my only one.

Mason replies. " You know the lives of bikers. Dangerous missions, alcohol and women. That's our lives. It was my life before I met you. I don't need to pretend to be something I wasn't. I used to fuck,alot. Different women every time. Some who just wanted to be fucked by a biker, others who were trying to get into a relationship. I don't want to sugarcoat things for you, Hera. What you see is what you get." I assure her. She stares at me with an unreadable expression. I can't decipher what's going through her mind. Her thoughts.

He’s big, dangerous, and completely obsessed with me. Saxon isn’t the kind of guy you bring home to the folks–not that I have any. As the leader of the biker gang, “The Heartless Bastards,” he has fists like cannonballs, a dark past, a body covered in scars, and lips that whisper secrets I shouldn’t want to hear. When he sets his sights on something, he takes it. And now, he’s got his sights on me.

He made me feel brave and safe, and I had been so desperate to hold onto it, I’d even let myself feel attracted to him, forgetting the most important thing. All bikers are condescending assholes! And they’d never see a whore as anything other than a cunt to fuck! I turned on the shower and muffled the sobs into my hand...

Did I forget to mention that Jake is a giant? Okay that's a bit of an exaggeration but he is at least six four. I'm sure the leather jacket over the tank with the tattoos on his neck and some of the ones on his chest peeping through added to the visage of a badass. People just automatically got out of the way and pretty soon we were in the cool night air. His grip on my hand was tight and sure and gave me strength. I don't know what was coming next but I knew this time I was going to fight. "Let's go baby we'll take my bike and come back for your car later." He pulled me over to this monstrosity of black and chrome. I'm not an expert but I do believe it's what people in the know might call a

Sweet Bastard::: Clearing his throat, he gestured for Serena, " Let me walk you over to your office" Serena smiled at him, nodding her head as they both walked out. His office was next to hers, they both entered and Serena was awe at how beautiful and we'll organized it was. "Do you like it?" Mitch asked, seeing the look of surprise on her face. "Yes, this is beautiful" Serena replied, her hands slowly slid across the obviously expensive leather table, a computer was already connected next to some files on the table, the files and books on the shelf were neatly arranged and some flower vase positioned in the right places.

I knew the lifestyle they had, I loved it also furthermore I have actually dated bikers before and I think I can say, I understood the rules of it. Something about these particular bikers was very different though, It wasn’t just a bunch of dumb kids having fun rather It was something much more than that especially because the sex was mind-blowing and the time I spent with them all outside of the bedroom had great weight and I trusted them with some pretty intimate details of my life also including the good, bad, and ugly then most importantly, I have shared my dreams with them and they had done nothing but support me. I guess part of me felt like I’d earned a little more trust than they wer

Vincent ordered, his eyes darting through the chaos, constantly scanning for danger. The scene in front of us resembled a medieval battle—both sides charged at each other like warriors in a deadly clash. For a brief moment, I was frozen, transfixed by the sheer ferocity of the fight. The bikers moved with precision, their actions coordinated like a seasoned unit, each movement deliberate despite the mayhem erupting around them. Before I could process it all, a burly biker with a mohawk and intricate tattoos running down his arm sprinted toward us. My instincts screamed at me to flinch, unsure if he was friend or foe.