Booktok Motorcycle Novels & Stories

His deep forest scent invades my nose, and I feel myself drown in him, in everything that is Kai. “So, what is this beast called?” I ask, meaning the motorcycle. “Kawasaki Ninja H2 SX, luckily this one is street legal. I knew I would get you today, so I chose this one.” He says and moves to start the bike, but I place my hand on his arm. “Street legal? What does that mean?” I ask, too afraid to know, but he lets out a chuckle as the beast growls to life. “You’ll see,” is all that he promised before we sped away.

Why? My eyes widened in surprise as I followed her. When we reached the bike, I saw it was a sleek, shiny motorcycle. “Gorgeous bike. What’s its name?” I asked, impressed. “Triumph Speed 400,” Ray replied, sitting down and putting on her black sunglasses with a confident smile. “Helmet?” I asked, feeling a little anxious. Ray looked at me for a few moments before replying, “I don’t have a helmet.” Her deadpan expression didn’t reassure me at all.

she asked so I nod my head. "Let's go," I responded then grabbed her hands and pulled her out of the mansion. We walked towards the garage where my motorbikes are parked. I chose Ducati Testa Stretta NCR Macchia Nera since it was one of my recently purchased motorbikes. "You own all of this?" Solana asked pointing at the motorbikes parked at the garage, at the back of the mansion. "Yeah, why?" I asked then help her in wearing her helmet.

"You scared me." "Sorry. Thought you heard me come in." I turned back to the bike. "Is this yours?" "No. It's yours." I froze. "What?" Ryker walked closer. "We had it made for you. Custom build. Lighter frame for your size. More responsive handling. Top speed of one-forty." I stared at him. "You built me a motorcycle?" "We built you a motorcycle," he corrected. "Ronald and I. Well, we paid the mechanic to build it. But we designed it."

Ditto buddy! “What? You can fly over the river as a wolf?” I shot. “Almost, I am one of the fastest wolves in Astoria,” Kent said. Not bragging but just like it was a fact. “Why don’t you transform and I hop on your back? I can hold on pretty tight.” I suggested. Kent turned to me slowly. He looked beyond angry. “How dare you!” “What?” I asked, confused. “How dare you ask an Alpha to be your mule? I have never, will never, let anyone ride my back.” He explained further.

I expected him to stop at one of them. He walked right past them all. And stopped at a motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle. A sleek black Ducati that looked like it could break the sound barrier. All chrome and leather and danger. I stared. “You’re joking.” “I don’t joke about motorcycles.” He pulled two helmets from the storage compartment, offering me one. “You expect me to get on that thing?” “Unless you’d prefer to wait for the bus.” He was already putting on his helmet, and somehow even that looked unfairly attractive. “It’s safe. I promise.”

"Only the ones that can hear me judge me silently. Builds character." We turn a corner and hit the garage. The smell of oil and rubber slams into me. Rows of motorcycles gleam under fluorescent strips, some half-disassembled, others polished to a mirror finish. A couple guys in coveralls glance up, nod at Rook, then go back to whatever they're wrenching on. "This is where the magic happens," Rook says. "Or at least where the magic gets new spark plugs. Damon's bike is the black one in the corner. Don't sit on it unless you want to be chased through three states."

"Now let's get going. We've got a long drive ahead of us and the boss doesn't like to be kept waiting." They led me back downstairs and out to where several motorcycles were parked in front of the mansion. I noticed that Axel's car was gone from its usual spot, which meant they must have taken him in a vehicle rather than on bikes. One of the men gestured for me to get on the back of his motorcycle, and I had no choice but to comply.

"I just saw a huge black wolf on the path. That's all." "Were you alone?" "No, with Kessler the Idiot, but he left me stranded." "He did that? What a jerk." "Yeah, he is. Where's your car? I just want to get home." "I have a motorcycle," he says, pointing to a Ninja-style motorcycle a few meters away. "Wow, it's nice." "Don't mind riding on a motorcycle, do you?" "Not at all."

How I would love to wip that smirk on his face! "Just kiddin Darling. Don't be too flustered. All you have to do is to ride Maverick." Oh, that's sinple. I'm used in wild drive----"Backwards." I look at her with horror. W--wait...backwards? The crowd is always wild. But now wilder than earlier. Now that I'm looking at five motorcycles, I felt a worms in my tummy. Gosh! I'm nervous as freak! I know one brand of it. Yamaha M1 motoGP ...that's pretty for a bad boy.