Biker Or Not Novels & Stories

I said to them, trying to step away, but I stepped into another biker that stood behind me. I hadn’t even noticed him until that moment. He had his arms folded across his chest and he was looking down at me with his helmet covering his entire face. “Please…” I said to them. “Just let me go—” “I don’t think we are going to do that,” the first biker said. “Not until we have a little bit of fun with you.” “What is it that you want?” I asked. “Money? I don’t have much but—” “Oh, we don’t want your money. But I think you know what we do want,” one of the men laughed.

“You’re serious?” “I like all of them,” I admitted. “For completely different reasons.” She let out a small laugh. “Sofia… they’re not exactly the sharing type.” “Why not?” I asked honestly. She stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “You’re asking why a group of hardcore biker guys wouldn’t want to share one woman?” “Yes,” I said firmly. “Because they’re possessive,” she replied. “Very and at some point, someone’s going to want more, someone’s going to get jealous and when that happens? It won’t be pretty.”

, the inquisitive little queen that she is. “There is a code we bikers live by. My father violated that code and by that same code my actions were considered justified”, I told her, since she'd learn about it sooner or later anyway. “That, and I had already been running the crew for a few years at that point”! “For a bunch of bikers, you’re hardly ever on them”, she says. Being a biker is so much more than riding them, but even we know how weather limitations work. “It’s cold and wet, we’re not reckless”, I tell her.

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.

"You wear it tonight, and you wear it every single night until I say otherwise. Understood?" I swallowed hard and slipped my arms through the large armholes. The rich, intoxicating scent of him—expensive leather, fresh tobacco smoke, and a faint, clean cologne—wrapped around me completely. It felt like a warm, heavy blanket. It felt like a claim. Several bikers standing nearby saw what happened. They broke out into loud whistles and wide grins. One older, rugged-looking guy raised his glass of beer toward us in a mock toast, smiling at Stone's quick move.

“As much as I enjoy watching you all roll around in the dirt, I have something important to announce.” “Here we go,” Kara muttered. “The annual Biker Pack Tournament,” Felix continued, pausing for effect, “is officially around the corner.” A wave of excitement rolled through the field. Warriors began murmuring, some cheering outright. Even a few of the older fighters exchanged eager grins. Felix’s smirk widened. “I take it some of you still remember how it works?” “Do we look dead to you?” someone yelled from the back. He ignored the comment, continuing, “All packs from the region will be joining this year. Four in total. That means more competition, more glory—”

He explained. "Really?" Sam asked. "Yeah, I do. Don't you?" He asked. "I've never thought about it. But I figured bikers didn't do kids." Sam replied. "Bikers are like anyone else. Some do and some don't. Our club isn't into the illegal shit so I'm good with kids." Smokey explained. "So, give it some thought." Sam nodded. "Guess who's coming to the clubhouse this weekend?" Smokey asked. "Snake?" Sam asked.

We looked at the pack land together in the early morning, and I thought about the highway in the dark and the bond reaching toward something it couldn't reach yet, and I thought about what it meant to be the thing it was reaching toward without knowing it. "I want to ask you something," I said. "Okay." "The riding." I paused. "The motorcycle. You've been doing it your whole life. What is it about it." He thought about this for a moment. "It's the only thing where the speed is inside the experience rather than outside it," he said. "In a car you're watching the speed. On a bike you're in it. Your body is part of the physics." He paused. "During the feral years it was the only time the noise i

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.

I chuckled. “Of course. The only biker who can race more than I do is the Masked VA.” As she spoke, she had a look of admiration on her face. “You know the Masked VA?” I asked her curiously. She gave me a weird look. “Every biker does. He is the king of biking, I dare say. I hope to meet him someday.” She smiled with a fawning voice. “Good for you.” I shrugged. “You don’t seem impressed.” She observed.