Novelas y relatos de Biker

“They say that if the pipes are loud, ongoing traffic will hear them, but the sound from the exhaust goes straight out of the back end. All it does is make them go deaf prematurely—” “And piss pedestrians off,” Brennan grumbled. As the bike approached, I tilted my head to the side, recognizing that it wasn’t a Sunday rider on the back of it. “Biker,” Conor confirmed. “No tags,” I murmured. “Does there need to be? Nearest MC to us is the Sinners,” Brennan pointed out. “He’s not wearing a cut.” I lifted my cellphone and as the biker drove by, I snapped a photo, full frontal and a real beauty, then immediately sent it to Conor, who

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.

Right now, I wanted all the names of the girls and boys living in that town. I needed both genders. From my research, most of the bikers were low-key gay men who wouldn’t come out of the closet but would touch young boys inappropriately. We live in a society where boys are not taken seriously when they talk about being abused or touched in the wrong places. As usual, the parents of these kids would never speak up. A biker was as deadly as a mafia mob. They were crazy gang members who wore vests and rode noisy bikes around town with no authorities to keep them in check. They’d do anything they wanted—sleep with different women, y

I just needed to figure out what to say when I messaged her. X-Biker Friend: Hi there, I wanted to let you know that I'll be unavailable for a while - more than just a few days. I won't be able to take any phone calls, and my responses to texts might be delayed, but I'll get back to you when I can. I enjoyed hanging out with you and am excited to see you again once I return.

And never in front of his own friends. His jaw ached, his ribs burned, and every breath felt like a blade slicing through his lungs. He spat blood onto the pavement, glaring up at the dark figure standing over him. The biker remained motionless, the glow of a nearby streetlamp catching the sleek black visor of his helmet, hiding his face. Silent. Waiting. His friends stood a few feet away, frozen, unsure whether to intervene or run. “This guy’s crazy,” one of them muttered. “Lucas, just leave it—”

the biker said. “That sounds like a good idea, but I can't drive a vehicle, I'm only good with boats and canoes“ the fisherman said. “Alright, I'll do it!" The first biker said as he broke the window of the driver's side of Xandro's truck for he couldn't find the keys in Xandro's clothes laid at the river bank. He entered and pulled out the ignition wires and tried to start the vehicle but fortunately, the truck responded to this new hack.

Beggar My bitching and moaning finally paid off and Killer taught me how to ride my own bike. My biker licence was fake but the red and chrome machine I swing my legs over is real. As real as the cut I am wearing that says National Soldier. Got my patch party a few months back. It was a National thing and after I walked through that fire, I became one of them. “Are you two ready to roll.” Snake asks from the other side of me and I see the long line of bikers saddle their bikes.

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...

“Alpha Jaron. I’m referring him to you. He’s in recovery, unable to walk at the moment. I need you to give him your best as his physical therapist.” I froze mid-breath, the name striking me like a lightning bolt. My pulse quickened involuntarily. “Alpha Jaron?” I whispered, barely loud enough for Marga to hear. Marga’s jaw dropped, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Do you mean the Alpha Jaron? The Biker? The most feared, the handsome Alpha of Steel Fang Pack?” I blinked, the weight of her words settling on me. The Alpha of Steel Fang Pack. The man whose very name commanded fear and respect in the supernatural and human communities alike.

"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 con