Biker Rules Novels & Stories

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.

Too fast. Axel pushed the bike hard. We made it in thirty minutes instead of forty-five. The clubhouse was chaos when we arrived. People everywhere. Shouting. Arguing. Rookie sat on a chair in the main room, blood streaming from his nose. His eye was swelling shut. His lip split. Tank stood over him, cleaning the wounds. "What happened?" Axel demanded. "Four guys," Rookie said through swollen lips. "Came out of nowhere. Professional. Fast. I didn't even get my gun out before they had me on the ground."

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.

Ryder growls at his paramour. When he says nothing else, I look to find them kissing. That is an effective way to shut Sidhe up. I’ve seen Gator and Angel do the same thing to silence the lunatic. “Alright, children!” The older blonde biker's voice booms. “Wow, I cannot believe I’m related to these horny people,” the teen said with dark reddish brown comments from beside him. “Zip it, Rasmus.” An enormous Irish biker commands while putting away the drones.

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—

“Stop looking at me like that.” I snap out of my horny daze and look up at him. He’s frowning, clearly not enjoying being checked out. Never met a biker who didn’t like the attention of a woman. Then again, I’ve noticed he’s different from every other biker... or any healthy man, for that matter. Maybe he’s gay. The hot ones always are. “Fuck you. My room, my rules. You came in here, so I can check you out if I feel like it.”

He was completely disrespecting my status in my own pack territory, but strangely, the more this Rocco guy spoke, the more interest I picked up in him. He had real balls. The balls of a real villain. He wasn't like the bowing politicians or the crying servants at the palace. He was the 'my rules only' kind of guy. Which was good. Rocco leaned back again, looking at the photos. "There are at least fifty plus biker gangs in your pack territory, Delta Pack. And amongst these fifty, at least forty-eight of them run their businesses very calm and friendly. They don't want trouble with the law. And the others, if there is any rival or violence, it is strictly within themselves. Bikers are not know