Biker Romance Books Novels & Stories

I felt disposable, easily replaced and forgotten, and my children were treated the same. But the night after Grace reappeared suddenly when I needed her the most, I started to dream about X, a mysterious biker whose face I never saw but who somehow made me feel safe and precious. My children never appeared in my dreams; it was always just X and me. My favorite dreams were the ones where I held on tightly to him as he rode through our small town so fast that it felt like we were flying, and nothing else mattered. I knew he wasn't real, just an image my mind had created based on the romance novels I read. Someone like him couldn't exist in our small town. Our paths would have crossed at one po

Now that was the Ty I knew and loved. "We still haven't seen him yet but if you tracked him here and that book ties in then there are only so many places around here he could be hiding out. We'll get to the bottom of it. Just one more player, he should be here..." Just then Chaz opened up the gate and a whole fucking crew of bikers came riding in. The leader dismounted off his custom made top of the line ride with his wife's name emblazoned on the side and headed for us. One smooth motherfucker this one, and the shades just tipped that shit over the edge.

Ace explained. "Ok." Lainey agreed. She wanted no part of that. Some of her favorite romance books to read were Biker Romances. She had no idea how real or made up they were. But normally people got their ideas from somewhere, right? They walked through the main room which was oddly clean and spacious. She figured for a bunch of guys it would be dirty and beer cans or bottles everywhere. A lot of the stories she read were like that. But then she remembered, they were all retired military.

Like it was built to keep people out. As we walk, I notice the others. Men scattered along the grounds, some near motorcycles parked in neat rows. The sound of an engine roars in the distance, and I turn to see a group of riders speed past the gates. Black leather jackets, helmets, the glint of chrome. My chest tightens. A biker gang. I don’t need anyone to explain it to me. The signs are all here. The mansion. The heavy security. The bikes. This client is definitely not a regular person.

I’ve got more stories coming your way, full of fire, feels, and unforgettable love. Currently, I have two other exclusive books on GoodNovel you can dive into right now: 🐺 The Bane and The Alpha Beast – A fated-mate, enemies-to-lovers paranormal romance packed with secrets, slow-burn tension, and devastating desire. 🏍️ Claimed By The Biker King – A gritty, dangerous, and deliciously twisted MC romance where love rides right alongside revenge. Make sure to add them to your library and stay tuned—this ride is far from over.

Then, from the back of the room, someone whistled low, long, and appreciative. It was a sound that made her skin crawl. "Well, well," a greasy-haired biker, his face scarred and his grin wide, drawled, his voice thick with malicious amusement. "Look what wandered in. Reaper’s little pet, eh? Thought you could hide from us, darling?" Her throat was bone-dry, aching with the effort, but she forced the words out, her voice surprisingly steady, despite the frantic hammering of her heart.

They're all looking at me like I'm something that might bite. "Boss," one of them says, nodding to Ryder. "Clean pickup?" he continues, eyeing the blood on my face. "Three enforcers down, but alive." Ryder moves to my side, his hand settling on my lower back. The touch sends electricity up my spine. "They'll have headaches for a week." The biker crosses his arms over his chest. "And the girl?" "She's mine." The possessive edge in his voice makes my wolf stir with interest. Ryder's amber eyes scan the group of men. "Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me directly."

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.

The boss is going to have his hands full. They both laugh, and the other one replies. 'Adoro quel look da biker girl. Non mi dispiacerebbe metterla sul retro della mia Harley e infilare la mia lunghezza nella sua stretta.' [Love that Biker chick look. Wouldn't mind getting her on the back of my Harley and slipping my length into her tightness.]

“You enjoyin’ the show?” “I’m working,” I answered flatly as I picked up a stray, damp coaster from the center of the table. He leaned forward, propping his massive, tattooed elbows on the wood. “That ain’t what I asked.” I collected the empty bottles, as keeping my voice light since nervousness was just blood in the water to men like him, I retorted, “Then you asked the wrong question.” One of the other bikers laughed into his beer and Reaper’s grin widened, as his crude edge shifted into something more curious. “Got a mouth on you,” he chuckled, adjusting his leather vest.