Cyber Motorcycle Novels & Stories

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 roared, the sapphire light of my engine carving a path through the violet static. Sienna looked back, her face a mask of pure, unadulterated fury. "The mechanic wants to play? Fine! Let’s see how she handles a Total-Collapse!" She slammed her hand into the dash of her bike, and the Dead-Loop began to disintegrate. The shimmering light turned into a rain of falling pixels. The track beneath us vanished, leaving us suspended in a free-fall toward the copper conduits of the arena floor. But the Norton wasn't just a bike anymore. It was the Origin-Code.

There are only two things in this fucked up world I give a damn about, motorcycles and women. ​I ride them both the same way with a heavy hand and zero mercy. I like easing into the stroke, feeling the machine warm up beneath me, then manhandling them around tight corners until the metal screams. I want them redlining, vibrating through my bones until they’re begging me to let off the gas. I don't do gentle. I do control. ​Sup, Boss.

It would take Laura several days to get back to him and Tynan used that time to do his stealthy research on her background and past using the information he learned about her. The first thing Tynan learnt about was the type of bike Felix was. A Honda Rally was a dual-sport motorbike that could be used legally on the streets and off-road. It could also be used to enter some motorcycle races. Laura was right about it being on the smaller side but when Tynan took his time to dig into the technical details of this bike, he understood why Laura loved it so much. In fact, the bike resembled the owner. For something so small, it was very powerful and it reminded him about the little spitfire inside

But still, I'll never forget how he made me frustrated. Because we were riding a motorcycle, this vehicle is very safe for traffic. It's just as easy to pass it, unlike four or three wheels that will have a hard time passing in the middle of traffic. It's very uncomfortable in my part that I'm riding a motorcycle with Israel, so it's uncomfortable that I hold onto his stomach just to make myself secure that I won't fall. I'm no longer attracted to his abs, anyway. Eli's abs are enough. "Thank you-"

As the white street light hit it, the bike was shining with a golden luster. Although Charlotte was the most wanted socialite in Rothesay, she was not a typical goody-two-shoes kind of girl. She liked several extreme sports, including motorcycle racing. Therefore, when Charlotte had come to “The Pearl" not long ago, she had immediately recognized this bike as the world's top superbike, also known as "Nightingale", at first glance. Because “The Pearl" had excellent security measures, the owner had not even removed the bike key after getting off.

The engine sputtered to life. The motorcycles drove past me. One man threw a Molotov, which broke spattering fire across the lawn. I could see the fire in my review mirror as I revved the engine to keep it from stalling when I shifted into drive. Mr. Kline waved his hands forward. His black magic trickled out from him towards their bikes. The auras of the riders in multiple colors started to darken. One of them pushed out an orange shield, blocking the path.

“I knew you would give in.” “You were supposed to give up when I said no.” “That’s not how I operate.” I sighed and approached the spare bike. It felt foreign and familiar at the same time, like an old friend I’d lost touch with. I settled onto the seat, adjusted the grip, and felt the weight settle beneath me. Kyra watched me with satisfaction. “Still fits you perfectly.” “It’s a motorcycle, Kyra. Not a suit.” “A very sexy suit.” “Kyra.” She laughed and swung onto her bike. “Race to the ridge?”

Two hours later she was wearing another one of his shirts and roaring up the beach on a stolen motorcycle. She grinned under the black helmet. She'd never ridden a Ducati XDiavel S before. She'd've pegged Soloman as more of an old school Harley kind of guy. But hey, she wasn't going to complain. She needed the kind speed only a crotch rocket could provide to put some distance between her and the kind of hell that would fall on her head once Soloman found out she was gone.