Books About Bikers Novels & Stories

"That's some serious stakes. Alright. My boys will hold the stairwell. Keep Reeves's people and those crazy experiment things off your back. You get what you need. Then we all get the hell out. Deal?" "Deal." The bikers positioned themselves. Creating a defensive perimeter. They looked ridiculous. Motorcycle gang in a high-tech facility. But they moved with military precision. These were not random criminals. These were soldiers. Organized. Disciplined. "Where did you learn combat tactics?" Damien asked Garrett.

Screams and shouts from the Philanthropists and Socialites echoed through the night sky as the impish Bokken Riders landed on the roof of the Harrison Galleries. Tires screech, rubber burned as the magical bikers crashed the party. "Shit," Warren revved his engine and pushed his bike a little faster, "Please tell me you've called the calvary." Warren groaned. His ride went airborne and crashed into the roof of the Harrison Galleries himself.

I didn’t want him to think I was ogling him as the package and not the bike-- oh God no! I still can't have anything to do with any man until I've done away with Oliver for good. It'd be unfair to cheat emotionally with whoever I'll be with right now and a biker? Damn, that's far from it. They tend to be wild, dangerous, toxic- I've read a lot of biker romance and good Lord, it's about biker gangs and shit. No, thanks, I'll pass. I turned my head to steal glances at him again when I suddenly saw the biker's helmet right next to my window.

Huh, were we going on bikes? They're row after row of gleaming metal, the engines rumbling low. The scent of fuel and leather mixed in the air, intoxicating and deadly. My pulse quickened. Of course. I had forgotten, this family, these Alphas… they weren’t just wolves. They were bikers. Dangerous, untouchable, feared. One by one, everyone climbed onto their bikes, their movements easy with practiced confidence. Everyone but me. I stood awkwardly at the edge, my arms crossed tightly as I tried to mask the rising panic in my chest.

"It's the only place they're allowed to visit when they're passing through our lands without getting hunted down. It's basically sacred ground and a breeding ground for trouble. Do you see all of this?” I followed her gaze and raised a brow. My heart did a little flutter, but it wasn't from fear. It was excitement. There were so many motorcycles. More bikes than cars were lined up in the lot like a warning sign, all chrome and black leather and pure arrogance. I swallowed a laugh because Sofia actually gulped and pulled her coat tighter around herself like that would somehow save her from a room full of bikers. "At least that means the guys inside are hot," I said lightly, trying to tease he

The BlackReign patch on his leather vest hanging over the chair should’ve told me enough. I glance around the room, my mind catching up fast. The rough walls, the faint sound of metal clanging, the smell of oil and smoke…yeah. This isn’t just a random biker hideout. I’m in BlackReign territory. My pulse quickens. Reign Conner…the rogue alpha biker. The ruthless bastard everyone talks about everywhere you go…I never thought I'd ever meet a man like him. The same man rumored to be Black Justice…he arrogantly shows up when packs oppress rogues, kills, and disappears. Some call him a savior. Others, a monster. Depends on which side you’re on.

All the bikers nodded their heads, giving glances to one another. I was the only one wearing my helmet again, so no one would know who I am. I'm pretty sure they know I'm a girl because of how my boobs and ass look, but they said nothing. The sound of gunshots brought me out of my thoughts, and with that, all the bikers started their engines. I couldn't help but giggle when 'Speed' roared to life, and then we all went off.

She opened her mouth to scream when the sound of motorcycle engines roared down the street. Six bikes appeared from around the corner moving fast. They weren't Vipers. The engines sounded different. More expensive. The bikes pulled up in a half circle around Maya and the three men and suddenly the air felt different. Heavier. The riders killed their engines and the silence that followed was worse than the noise. They climbed off their bikes and Maya saw their vests. Iron Wolves MC. She didn't know if that was better or worse than the Vipers. One of them walked forward and the others followed. He was tall with dark hair and the kind of face that probably got him anything he wanted. His leathe

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.