Biker Romance Books Novels & Stories

Just one reflex, and probably not necessary, but when I looked up, Lana was there. She stood a few feet away, frozen mid conversation. Her eyes weren’t on my face. They were on my hand. Time seemed to slow to a halt as our gazes locked. Her smirk was gone now, only to be replaced by something sharper and calculating. I dropped my hand fast, pretending to smooth my shirt, but the damage was done. “Watch it, sweetheart,” the drunk biker slurred, oblivious to the damage he'd just done. “Didn’t mean to….”

“For once, I’m not the pathetic one. People actually look at me now, not through me.” Blue’s eyes softened for a second, but only a second. “Because I love you, River and loving you means not cheering you on while you walk into a damn lion’s den with a smile.” Tears burned the back of my throat. “He’s not like that.” “Oh, come on,” she scoffed, throwing her hands up. “The biker leader of SGBC? The one who burned down a rival bar because someone insulted his crew? That guy? You think he’s gonna buy you flowers and walk you to brunch?”

“You really are determined to destroy everything your father built.” Anger flared through my chest. “You grabbed me.” He tilted his head. “You slapped me verbally in front of half the city.” “That is not the same.” “No,” he agreed calmly. “It isn’t.” He turned to face me. “But what your little biker friend did inside? That is.” A cold knot formed in my stomach. Adrian watched me carefully. “You should know something about men like him,” he said. “What?” “They don’t survive in my world.”

Drew After the day I've had, I'm dying to sink into the wet heat of my wife. There's nothing else that helps keep me grounded like being with her. Many men who live the biker lifestyle will say there's nothing like the freedom of straddling their bike and letting the wind blow through their hair. While that's true, and it is my freedom, my wife is pulpit where I kneel and beg God for forgiveness. Fuck she is my forgiveness. Anything I've ever done wrong in my life, I've worked through buried deep inside her heat. Right now I need that forgiveness, that understanding. I need something more than what I've been getting, and I know I'm going to get it from her.

It seems he knew all of it was a made up story. “And this biker, what's his name?” he asked, eyes still locked on his notepad. “Mordred Sinclair,” I replied, letting the hate drip into every syllable. “He’s got a crew. Black Vipers or some biker gang bullshit. Check the cameras outside. You’ll see.”

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

He was also a man who could make a motorcycle dance through curves that would scare most people, who owned an underground racing empire, who played with death for the thrill of beating it. He was more complicated, more dangerous, more fascinating than I'd ever imagined. And I might be falling for him all over again, which scares me. I was trying to cross a dangerous line, was playing with fire that'll eventually burn me. But I didn't care because I wanted to burn in the passion of Tristan, I wanted him to set my body on fire with not just his touches but with his kisses. Fuck! What was I thinking right now? I could feel my nipples that's pressed against Tristan back, harden by just the thoug

she looked at me and I nodded. "My Uncle Bruce was a member of the Demon Riders MC." she added quietly. Joker gasped along with Blade while Dom, Decker, Jaden and Ash looked confused. Thrash closed his eyes and muttered a curse. "Who are the Demon Riders?" Dom demanded. "Yeah, I've never heard of them and we've had business with every MC in the area." Decker added.

Talk then. I scowl. Douchebag. She doesn’t love him — any idiot with eyes can see that — so what exactly is there to talk about? Another message sits higher up. Older. Darker. D Stalker: You are mine💗 Stay away from the biker! My jaw tightens. The message crawls under my skin in all the wrong ways. This jerk rattles me more than her jagoff boyfriend. My pulse spikes, irritation flaring hot and possessive before I can stop it.

Motorcycles roared through the new opening—a dozen riders, all wearing Iron Wolves patches. Damien led them. His face was a mask of blood and fury. When his eyes found mine across the destroyed clubhouse, relief and rage warred in their depths. "Flora. Get down!" I dropped as bullets erupted. The Savage Kings scattered, returning fire. Damien rode straight through the chaos, his bike sliding sideways as he dismounted in a fluid motion that should have been impossible. He reached me in seconds, his body shielding mine. "You hurt?" His hands ran over me, checking for wounds.