Booktok Motorcycle Novels & Stories

another voice yelled, the sound of heavy duty air brakes hissing violently as a massive row of steel frames rounded the corner. The rumbling turned into a deafening, mechanical roar as a massive convoy of heavy, custom built motorcycles tore through the dark, their massive tires throwing up ten foot walls of spray. The blinding, high intensity halogen headlights flooded the entire highway, pinning Valerie's broken, unmoving form directly in their white hot glare as the lead bikes began to fish tail, sliding sideways across the wet asphalt straight toward her.

, Rex said snidely, what was his problem with me now. "Shut it up Rex, you're just jealous that Nox and Vixen did better than you and Yuri.", Mariana replied back at him, crossing her hands on her chest. "At least we're not using some illegal thing unlike these idiots.", Yuri shouted back at us and I told Mariana to just shake it off and tell her and everyone to celebrate all of our test today in Crystal Zilch which is a popular bar in our region. They cheered at me and with that we left our school stationary building, I went into my new Tron Bike XR2 which is the super speed motorcycle. Grabbing the glasses thing and wear it, it detects my iris and automatically extended to be a helmet. I t

she teased, her lips curving into a soft smile. "Something like that." I led her past the security checkpoints, down to the subterranean loading docks where the staff kept the heavy equipment. In a private, locked bay I had rented for the week, the shadows parted to reveal her gift. It was a custom, low-profile, vintage-style miniature motorbike. It was painted in a matte, midnight-black finish, with clean silver pinstriping that mirrored the lines of our skates. It was compact, built for speed and tight corners, stripped of any unnecessary weight”pure power on two wheels.

And then he veered toward something that made me pause. A motorcycle. Not one of those plastic, soulless speed machines—but a real one. Matte black. Low-slung. Growling with restrained power. It looked like it had eaten roads for breakfast and still hadn’t had enough. I slowed to a stop, lips curving into a smirk as the machine came into full view. Pure muscle and menace. A beast with two wheels and no apologies. Of course Ryden rode a motorcycle. It was too perfect. The tattoos, the rough edges, the way he’d let me break him open with my thighs and a whisper—he was built for this kind of cliché. The good kind. The kind that made you ache.

I grin to myself, hoping she will let me give her a full back massage back at the estate later. I glance back toward the pine tree and see a pair of big, dark doe eyes peeking out at me while I stand there buckling my leather vest. I let out a cocky smirk when I realize her eyes are taking in every single inch of my frame. Her gaze lingers low on my waist. My inner boss lets out a dark chuckle. He is starting to take over the wheel. I hold onto the reins of control as tight as I can as I mount my bike. I drop my boots onto the footpegs, my hands gripping the handlebars. My brothers and I all ride massive, custom-built choppers with heavy frames. It comes with the territory of running the hig

I asked once again, his tone implying curiosity. "By motorcycle. Wait a moment here, okay," he said with a faint smile, then hurried to take a fast step leaving the lobby area toward the parking lot. A few seconds later, the roar of an engine broke the night's silence. A black Honda CB300R motorcycle stopped smoothly right in front of me. There was a charm in seeing Reid sitting on that motorcycle seat, looking so stunning amidst the quiet streets. "Let's get on," he invited with a faint smile.

There was a bookshelf that was about six feet tall which was filled with medical books and containers with herbs in them. There was a lot of greenery at the door. Most of them were herbs. All of them were labeled. In the middle of the living room sat a very cool-looking black and red motorcycle. It was the BMW S 1000 RR which was no longer being produced. Aria walked over to the kitchen and took a bottle of water from the fridge. She wanted to drink some water and watch some TV. Suddenly, the phone that was charging on her desk rang. It was a custom ringtone.

He announced and Suddenly loud beating drums rang out as the huge gate that was opposite where we were standing began opening with a creaking sound. Our gaze darted to the gate and there, we saw two handsome motorcycles. The motorcycle on the left had the designs of a cheetah and I believe it belonged to Ace while the one on the right had a dripping blood design on motorcycle's body and I also guesses that it might be the bike he kept for me but I didn't like either of them. No motorcycle could ever beat my Wolf Bike. He was the best out of a million bikes. Plus I couldn't trust Ace. He might have tampered with the engines of the motorcycle or given me a low powered bike that wouldn't give m

"Get on." JJ got on. The bike felt enormous beneath him—powerful and alive even standing still. He gripped the handlebars, felt the weight, adjusted. Duke talked him through it. Clutch. Throttle. Brakes. Balance. How to feel the engine through the seat. How to lean into turns rather than fighting them. "A motorcycle punishes tension," Duke said. "Grip too tight, fight the lean, panic in a corner—it'll throw you. You have to trust it."

Observing her exhaustion, Tim, who was standing next to the motorcycle, spoke in a soothing tone, “You didn’t need to rush like that. I told you I’d wait.” Estelle extended her hand and gently touched the motorcycle. “I didn’t anticipate that you’re also a motorcycle enthusiast. Nowadays, many women enjoy riding bikes, often favoring lighter models. You’re quite unique in your preference. Among all the women I’ve known, you’re the only one who has a fondness for heavyweight motorcycles. Allow me to introduce this particular bike to you,” Tim offered. He retrieved his phone and read the information he had recently looked up on the Internet. Several minutes passed, and Tim eventually completed