Ky Hamilton Bull Rider Novelas e Histórias

My mom and Oakley’s mom’s are sitting on the couch, drinking some cocktail Oakley made them. Mom’s boyfriend left a bit ago. He’s pretty cool, and nothing like our father. He loves Oakley, and he doesn’t say anything gross or homophobic. I wish he was the dad Reed grew up with. Then all this shit in his head wouldn’t be there. I sit on the floor, and Hunter wobbles his way over to me. He has dark hair, and gray eyes. He’s a perfect mixture of Oakley and I. He grins, and steps into my lap babbling away. I hold him, kissing his chubby cheeks.

He asked. “Sure. I don’t mind it.” She replied. The guy sat with her and started a conversation with her. She learned that his name was Damon. He was part of a biker gang called Lobo's. He had a low-rider cruiser made by Harley Davidson. When he learned that she rode an H2R Ninja, he was in awe. It’s rare when you find a girl, gorgeous and sweet, loving fast bikes. She enjoyed that evening having an innocent, but simple conversation with Damon. He didn’t know it, but he helped her forget about her problems for a moment. It was one of the best nights she endured since the second she left home.

A short time later and the contest is about to begin. The contest announcer gains everyones attention when they hear: "ALRIGHTY EVERYONE.... $500 DOLLAR CASH PRIZE TO THE WINNER TONIGHT! IT'S THE BIGGEST WE'VE HAD YET! YA'LL KNOW THE DEAL... BEST RIDE WINS!!.!! ---CAN I GET CLINTON TO THE BULL?" Clinton is a tall, lanky guy in his late 20s. He walks across the dance floor and into the bull pen, where he hops onto "Bully" with ease.

Jaden wanted to retaliate, to tell him that the woman he trusted so much was scheming behind his back, using his name, but the words caught in his throat. The man wore a navy blue suit; despite the gray streaks in his hair, he exuded a sinister aura. A flashy watch adorned his left wrist, which he checked with impatience. His name was Samuel Anderson—a businessman by day, a ruthless criminal by night. “Yes, I know that,” Jaden said, feeling defeated.

“What’s up?” Ryan loomed over him. “I’ve wanted to be a bull rider since I was nine years old. So like any kid who discovered a dream, I became obsessed. I watched every bull-riding event on TV. Including spending the last five years studying the riders.” His voice dropped to a fierce whisper. “Did you really think no one would recognize your ridin’ style, Chase McKay?” Shit.

“I’d taken a liking to motorcycles and--- well, the rest you know.” I couldn’t contain a smile. Yeah, I still remembered when Bunny – the human-calculator – came to the metal shop for the very first time. He’d been saving up for a bike and was finally buying one. But since the guy didn’t know a wrench from a screwdriver, Knives had taken pity on him and had more or less taken him under his wing. They became fast friends and soon enough he’d been introduced as a prospect of the Wolf Riders MC. And we’d barely blinked before he had his own cut and a new name…

This made Jayce and his friends collapse into fits of laughter. "She's a firecracker," one of them commented. "I can see why you two hit it off." After Jayce had stopped laughing, he straightened up and shook his head. "Do I look like a vigilante to you?" "You could be," Lexi suggested. "Like the Dexter of bullies." "Dexter... as in... that serial killer from the show?" Jayce's mate asked. "Hmm, yes the one who only killed other serial killers." Lexi nodded and turned to Jayce. "You could be a bully who bullies other bullies."

came the reply. Before the first guy could reply, the door opened, angrily creaking and two guys with rifles walked in. They gave frightening glares. One said," Boss wants to see you, Brett. " Swallowing a lump, Brett followed the guards to the main room where cigarette smoke, booze and disappointment wafted to his nostrils. ' Boss', was a lean, muscled man with a face you wouldn't want to look at twice. A long, thin nose, sharp, cunning mouth which belonged to a clever face that was schooled to neutrality. Today, it was contorted with fury.

He was also tall, perhaps the tallest in their midst, and like the rest, he wore a blue vest, twice the size of an average man, but too small for his protruding muscles. Hawk ignored the man at first as he walked towards his seat. Bull, as he was called, was the right hand of the King, perhaps, the most trusted individual within the stones. He had killed so many and was loyal, there was no doubt who would take the King's place if he passed away. "Was caught by the rain," Hawk said and took the empty seat. "Not an excuse, and you know it" That's your problem and not mine. Hawk wanted to say but restrained himself. Bull can not fool him. Despite his loyalty, Hawk could read through his act. It

As tempting as the idea is, I haven't ridden in years, and I've never done it in public. “Of course not. I just want to go, because Bryan said he's an invincible bull and I want to see that, it's just curiosity really.” “Richard's challenge.” My father speaks in a disgusted tone. I don't remember that name, but from the way my father looked, he must not have a good relationship with this man. “Who is he?” “Richard Rivera is a breeder of riding bulls, a few years ago he tried to join the PBR, but I refused him entry because the methods he uses to train the bulls are too cruel.”