Biker Rules Novels & Stories

"I don't give a fuck who you are. He's taken and this is your first and only warning!" "Angel there's no need to be rude." Rider warned. To say it pissed Angel off was an understatement. "Oh?" Angel smiled. "Hey Joker? I'd like a ride on your bike to the bar tonight for work. Seems the rules have changed about a bitch being on the back of a brother’s bike!" "What the fuck? You know that ain't true! You will not ride on anyone's bike but mine!" Rider roared. "What's good for you is good for me!" Angel retorted.

The twins are nine. Hunter is so serious about motorcycles that Knox had to institute a formal rule: shop time does not count toward homework. This rule exists because Hunter attempted to argue, at age seven, that troubleshooting an engine was applied physics and should be credited accordingly. He had a presentation. It was impressive. Knox said no anyway, but with the expression he gets when he's impressed and trying not to show it.

She flipped through it slowly, eyes scanning the rules again. Rule 3: Weakness is not tolerated. Rule 7: Personal disputes must be settled in the ring. Rule 9: Hierarchy is earned through combat, obedience, and demonstration of strength. Her heart beat steadily. Not fast. Not slow. Focused. She pressed a hand to her chest—bound flat—and closed her eyes.

She said handing us a piece of paper with the rules. Utopia Rules #1 No use of ANY magic nor VIOLENCE on peers #2 No sneaking out after curfew #3 Small animals ONLY(no larger than a cat) #4 No attacking humans #5 No Biting #6 No experimenting on peers(Only if allowed with an instructor.) #7 No flying upon 200ft #8 No Broomstick flying above 100 ft

Was all I asked with a stern voice once again getting on the defensive, did he think I was some crazy mess who would begin to destroy his life now I was here? “Very well, if you want me to disclose my rules to you now, I do not mind. Rule one, if you are facing any sort of trouble, danger or simply want to speak, you are to come to me and only me. I have many men which work for me, and some will adore to take advantage of a young beautiful woman such as yourself. You are to come to me, and I will sort it.” Baxter first explained walking back into the room standing tall, his muscular arms held back showing how much power exploded from him, this was a rule I understood and appreciated so I nod

Speed is the one unbreakable law of martial arts, and someone quicker than the naked eye would never lose. To think that the man who seemed to have nothing going for him aside from his looks was this powerful! Frank chuckled and turned to the biker. "You should leave. It's not a pretty sight when blood starts spilling." The biker was quite compliant from the start and turned to run. "Thank you for saving me. May we meet again!" On the other hand, Frank leapt over the railing and dropped to a squat in front of the white-haired youth. "Go on, tell me why you introduced Drunken Moon to someone else."

And his voice— His voice promised war. "Two days, and you'll see exactly how much those rules have changed." He turned. Sharp. Aggressive. And his wolves fell in behind him. The Beta hesitated. Just for a second. Like he was going to argue. But Shianne revved her bike. Loud. Pointed. And he moved. The bikers formed a loose escort. Not touching. Not threatening. But there. A wall of leather and chrome and barely-contained violence that made it very clear—

He just did a slow scan from my heels to my throat, and his jaw locked. “Problem?” I asked. “You look like a target,” he said. “Good. Let them look.” He opened the car door himself. No driver tonight. He was driving. Control issues. “Rules for tonight,” he said as we pulled out. “Rule seventeen: You don’t drink anything I don’t hand you. Rule eighteen: You don’t speak to Russo. Rule nineteen: If I tell you to run, you run. Don’t look back.” “What about rule one?”

His motorcycle didn’t announce itself. It roared. That deep, violent sound tore through the silence of the compound like a warning shot. Conversations died instantly. Heads turned. Even the guards shifted uneasily, hands moving instinctively toward their weapons before they realized who it was. Everyone knew that sound. Everyone knew him. Kade Roman. The biker Alpha they had once tried to erase from their territory. The man who refused to stay gone. The gates of the estate swung open with a heavy metallic groan, and there he was riding in like the world still bent to his rules. Black bike. Black jacket. Eyes colder than anything human should be allowed to carry.

"And if you try to run, I will find you. And I will break both your legs." I believed him. Jackson was waiting by his bike. He wore dark jeans, a black t-shirt under his leather cut, and sunglasses that hid those cold gray eyes. He looked me over slowly, his expression unreadable. "Get on." "I have never been on a motorcycle before." "Then today you learn." He handed me a helmet. "Put this on." My hands shook as I fastened the helmet. Jackson swung onto the bike and looked back at me expectantly. I climbed on behind him awkwardly, not sure where to put my hands.