Jay Jo Bike Mga Nobela at Kwento

Thanks to this disgusting nightmare of a human, she’d spent years begging and apologizing and hating who she was… she wasn’t going out that way. Jo raised her eyes to his and he studied her expression with surprise. She imagined that even with his hand covering her mouth, she still looked defiant and furious. She tried to telegraph her naked, blazing hatred of him in her eyes alone – and from the look on his face, she’d succeeded. “Well, well, well,” he said softly. “Look at this. What do we have here, huh? Some attitude, looks like. Where’d you get that fucking attitude, baby? Who have you been spending time with? These filthy bikers?”

"Ya, mine now, Tiny Demon, all fuckin’ mine." No, I'm not. I go to argue, and he steps back and walks to Ebony. I climb onto the bike and hold on. "Can you actually ride?" I'm so fucking scared right now. "Her dad owns a fucking MC club, cause she can." Joker laughs. "Don't open the door, don't talk to anyone. Don't fuckin’ stop for a snack. Go straight there!" He orders. Ebony laughs. "Me stop for a snack? We're not all like Uncle Joker," she kisses his cheek. "Thanks for saving my ass." Her words end, and she starts the bike; I try and relax as she rides through the street.

Exceptions, exceptions, but after a few minutes, he’s leading me to a bike. I can’t even remember the last time I’d been on one, hell, I don’t think I ever have. Yet here I am, standing next to Jordan, the Paxon Beta, watching him walk up to a motorcycle that is parked among Reid's luxury fleet. I still feel shame from my shouting earlier, but Jordan doesn’t seem to care. He acts like me screaming “fuck your exceptions” is just a normal Tuesday night activity.