Novel & Cerita Booktok Biker

She nodded with a smile. "Give us the money now and we will lead you there," The biker girl said. "I have no time for time wasters, lead us there and you will get your money, if not then you are of no use to me," I said coldly. "Me and my bike men feel differently, wait do you think we can not just kill you now and take your car?" She replied in a venom-filled voice. That was the Toll Biker gang for you. Always trying to make their victims remember just how ruthless they could be.

“Oh. Thank you very much.” “I should get going.” The biker man said as he went on his bike and wore his helmet. “My journey is long. I believe yours is, too. Bye” The biker turned on his bike and zoomed off. Who was that? What a good man. I hope I meet him again sometime. I walk to the driver who was fast asleep. It was quite late anyway. I got back into the car and stayed up till I fell asleep. TAKI’S P.O.V.

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.”

Thomas asked. The biker’s voice tightened. “He called me by name.” The words hung in the air for a moment. “I’d never met him before,” the biker explained. “We’d never spoken. My name isn’t written on my vest or jacket. There’s no reason he should’ve known it.” My wolf stirred uneasily. This was wrong. All of it felt wrong. “What did you do?” I asked. “I asked him how he knew my name,” the biker said. “He just smiled faintly and avoided the question. That’s when I got really suspicious.”

“Yes, Mi lady,” “Hey reckless princess,” he said to her with a broad smile. Elara smiled back. “I'm not reckless” I walked towards the bikers, while Henry's voice which teased Elara, and hers which replied savagely echoed in the background which I barely paid attention to. “Coach, any word for us before we step out there for this tournament?” A biker said, resting his hand on the handlebar of his bike while standing elegantly beside it. Everyone of them turned their gazes to me, anticipating what I had to share.

"Hardly unarmed, My Dragon." "Time to go home, My Beastly Biker." She smirked up at him, then turning, she walked to the other side of the car to get in. Drake watched, hypnotized, at the sway of her hips. *********************************************************************************************** This is not the end of this story. I have at least one more chapter to do. If you would like to see something in particular, drop me a note on here, a DM, or a note on my profile.

My gaze scanned his bike, and I saw that it had a realistic drawing of a silver-furred wolf with sharp golden eyes designed on the bike, along with a long line of smoky red flames drawn across the body of the bike. The biker was clad in a black leather jacket and putting on a sleek black helmet that looked different from the others. He gave off a different aura. A leader's aura I found myself being drawn to as I felt tingles between my legs. "Oh, my fucking goodness! Aleric Dolce came to college today?!" The girls squealed louder in whispers, blushing and barely controlling their excitement as they rushed forward to have a better view of the bikers.

But deep down, I already knew the answer. Nothing. Not a single message. I stared at the empty chat for a while, feeling the silence settle heavier in my chest. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was a fool for trusting a piece of shit like him. I knew what bikers were. Everyone said it, playboys, liars, men who lived by no rules but their own. I should’ve known better. I should’ve stayed away. But I didn’t. I gave him everything, my trust, my heart, my body, and now I was the one left bleeding.

' she spoke with a final tone. "From the way you spoke to the executives. I was genuinely scared for you." The biker continued, stopping the conversation with my subconscious. "Pfft," I hissed. "You shouldn't have been." "Don't take Bishop's warning likely. He's as dangerous as Havoc, the club's president." Ohh, so, his name was Havoc. I just remembered that when I met some bikers earlier, one of them said something like Havoc being on a fucking spree. Not surprised at all... A man like that would always have women at his beck and call.

Kiara says coolly, “why do you still sleep with HIS turtle?” I snap my head up. “It is NOT his turtle.” She raises a brow. “He merely financed it,” I rant. “And I keep it as a reminder of the evil lurking beneath his stupid, pretty-boy exterior. Like a talisman. Or a warning. Or emotional evidence.” “Mmhmm,” she hums, unconvinced. Then her eyes narrow. “Then why does Pan smell exactly like some hunky biker we both know?” I freeze. Then — traitorously — I inhale.