Claimed By The Biker Giant Mga Nobela at Kwento

Now that was the Ty I knew and loved. "We still haven't seen him yet but if you tracked him here and that book ties in then there are only so many places around here he could be hiding out. We'll get to the bottom of it. Just one more player, he should be here..." Just then Chaz opened up the gate and a whole fucking crew of bikers came riding in. The leader dismounted off his custom made top of the line ride with his wife's name emblazoned on the side and headed for us. One smooth motherfucker this one, and the shades just tipped that shit over the edge.

Carl instructed while Tom nodded as he clicked on the icon. Tom maximized the video, and everyone watched and listened keenly as Carl explained a few things to them. It was a video, which showcased skills and stunts professional global bikers make while riding. “These skills helped the Glazers team stand out in the last Bike race competition against the Fire sprouts team. I mean, we can't deny that know they qualified for the semifinals with these stunts they pulled, can we?” He asked, while they all fixed their gazes on the large screen. Carl shook his head and stood at their front, wanting to get their attention.

My movement is clean and fast, so satisfyingly well-executed I nearly give myself a pat on the back. I might hate getting on a bike, but I know exactly how to get off one. Funny how fear works like that. “You named your death machine?” I ask coolly. His eyes narrow, clearly clocking what I just did. He clicks his tongue but lets it go. “Harley,” he corrects. “And she’s not a death machine. She’s beautiful. I built her myself. From scratch.” That actually gives me pause. “You did?” The surprise slips out before I can stop it.

Yet, in Jessica's eyes, he was still part of a gang, and she didn't want that kind of life for her mother. Jessica attempted to dissuade Frannie from pursuing the relationship on numerous occasions, but her words fell on deaf ears. Even when Jessica highlighted the illegal activities and frequent incarcerations associated with bikers in clubs like Slammer's, Frannie brushed it off, defending their love with a familiar refrain: "Slammer insists that the Gold Vipers are different from other motorcycle clubs.

I declare, and He rolls his eyes. “I have an extra bike in the shed over there, but if you scratch it I’ll rip your head off and hang it on my wall as a trophy,” I warn, turning back to my bike. Maverick turns to the shed and opens the door to reveal a bright red Yamaha R6 with black wheels that has a tag with the name Ezra on it.

He looked like a champion trying to make a mocking face in front of his defeated counterpart. "She's poor, and..." he looked in my belly. "Hungry. I don't want a hungry goddess." He sighed after saying those words and honestly, I was a bit taken aback. Hmmph! Why the hell would he need to care about me anyway, hmm? Who is in my life to be concerned about me? A mustang stopped in front of us, remember we're in a freaking abandoned children's playground! In the middle of a freaking squatters area. The latest unit of Ducati's countless designs of high bikes is tailing the mustang and both of them stopped in front of us.

But before I reached for it, I tripped over my feet. I let out a little squeak as I prepared to hit the ground but I never did. Protective arms wrapped around my waist. The stranger who caught me pulled me up against their body until my breasts were pressed against their muscular chest. I looked into the eyes of the person who had saved me, but my thank you got stuck in my throat. These were the same eyes that I saw in my wildest dreams. This was the man whom I couldn't stop thinking about. The Biker Alpha, King Eli.

"You have been cooped up inside this concrete compound for days now. I thought you might really need some fresh air to clear your head." He led me out through the back door and into the bright sunlight of the yard, walking toward the long line of shiny motorcycles parked against the wall. His bike was completely unmistakable—it was a massive, heavy black Harley-Davidson motorcycle with bright chrome details that caught the sunlight and a large Iron Reapers skull painted right onto the fuel tank. He reached over, grabbed a black helmet from the handlebars, and handed it to me. Then, he stepped closer and helped me strap it tightly under my chin, his large, tattooed fingers moving with careful

‘Let us help you carry your bags,’ one of them says. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t remember your names,’ I apologise. ‘I’m Boomslang,’ the larger guy wearing the blue bandana says. ‘I’m Taipan,’ the very slim, and shortest of the bikers, says. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I think I’m fine. This is all I have,’ I say, almost dropping the box, and Boomslang quickly catches it. ‘Well, maybe just a little help would be nice,’ I say, laughing.

"It can go as fast as a professional racing car. It's the fastest bike in Ambrollum City." Jeremy Sands owned this superbike. He was a well-known person in Ambrollum City and lived off his family's wealth. He was also one of Charmaine's many pursuers. Jeremy sauntered toward Charmaine as he crooned, "Charmaine, why don't we go for a ride on my bike?" Charmaine smiled. She was just about to reply when she caught sight of another black superbike coming their way. The crowd's attention was immediately diverted to the superbike that was coming to them. When the rider took off their helmet, they realized that it was none other than Larissa.