Novel & Cerita Motorcycle Booktok

he smiled, revving the engine. ​"Ready," I grinned, sliding the helmet over my copper waves. I climbed onto the back of the bike, wrapping my arms securely around his waist, holding the strawberry milkshake tightly in one hand as the motorcycle roared to life, speeding away from the curb and carrying me into the sunset, completely blissed out.

Veronica grinned under the visor of her brand spanking new pink and black helmet. Never in a million years would she ever have imagined herself on the back of a motorbike, clinging tightly to her very own bad boy, sex god. Pulses of need vibrated through her body as the bike moved underneath them, making her wish she had a little more room to squirm on the leather seat. She loved riding on top of Robert's Harley!

Jordan was the one who insisted on meddling, making Fiona lose her chance to fight and even scolded her right now? Fiona got energized and ready to test her skills. She waved her fists excitedly and said, "Come on, let's see how you're going to challenge me!" Just as Jordan was about to make a move, he heard the noisy sounds of motorcycles coming from outside. The sound of the motorcycles grew louder, and soon a group of more than a dozen riders on motorcycles came into view, driving toward everyone. Each of these individuals was riding a high-performance motorcycle, with the leading bike being a particularly expensive BMW S series worth more than 100,000.

I stormed out of there, I want to get this mission over with. I strode into my garage, the bright fluorescent lights casting a dull glow. My eyes locked onto the sleek, black motorcycle parked in the center of the room. It was a rare, customized model, designed for power and agility, and only top mercenaries could get their hands on a motorcycle like this. But, as it is, only I have this prototype. A hell of a masterpiece.

I'd lost count since this morning's wake-up session in his bed. He smirked, reading my mind as always, his blue eyes darkening with promise. "Celebrate, huh? I like how you think, trouble." We hopped on his motorcycle parked at the edge of the lot, the chrome gleaming under the midday sun like a promise of speed and freedom. I climbed on behind him, my body molding to his like it was designed for it—chest pressed to his back, arms snaking around his waist to feel the hard ridges of his abs under his tee. The engine roared to life with a primal growl, vibrations humming between my legs in a way that was anything but innocent, reigniting the throb from our library escapade.

"Oo. Sabi nila pag marunong ka na mag bike, madali na lang ang pagmomotor." "Totoo 'yon. Riding a motorcycle is all about balancing. Kung marunong kana mag bike, ibig sabihin kaya mo na nga ang mag motor." wika ko "Matuturuan mo ba 'ko?" tanong niya. Hindi ko s'ya sinagot at naglakad ako papunta sa gilid ng kwarto kung saan nakasabit ang landline. Tumawag ako sa front desk at nagtanong ng mga konting information about sa buong lugar ng resort.

I can replicate a code to start it. Nate feels a pang of nostalgia at the mention of riding. In particular, he remembers the Yamaha MT-09 that crashed in the ravine in Batangas. It was the perfect bike for riding a lot, whether on the highway or on a dirt road. Shadow probably hadn’t chosen it for those reasons though. He just listened to the Filipino salesman rave about how John Wick rode the bike in Chapter 3 - Parabellum. Nate has the helmet that Hyung Shadow gave him, scratches and all, in his on-campus dorm room. He should probably run and get it now.

With a confident grin, Lucas swung his leg over a sleek, black motorcycle, his hands gripping the handlebars with practiced ease. "Hop on," he said, patting the spot behind him. I looked at the motorcycle skeptically. "Is it safe? Do you even know how to ride it?" Lucas chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "Shana, trust me. Just get on." I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, let alone on the back of one. Taking a deep breath, I followed Lucas's advice and positioned myself directly behind him. As I settled in, I couldn't help but notice the warmth and firmness of his body against mine.

Tires crunching gravel. The sea of girls parted in awe as five motorcycles rolled in, headlights cutting through the dark. The lead bike slowed, flames etched across its black body. My chest caved in. I knew that design. Rhett’s bike. The rider killed the engine, swung a boot to the ground, and lifted off his helmet. Screams exploded. The air cracked with them. Rhett Voss. His dark hair damp with sweat, jaw like stone, eyes sharp as blades as they scanned the sea of girls like he owned them.

Chapter Seven The parking lot was nearly empty, our footsteps echoing against concrete as I followed Adrien through the rain. My feet were bare now, the ruined heels abandoned somewhere on the terrace because I simply couldn't walk in them anymore. The cold pavement bit into my soles with each step, but it was nothing compared to the bone-deep chill that had settled into my body over the past three hours. He stopped beside the motorcycle—a Ducati, it was sleek, black and dangerous-looking. Everything about it screamed speed and power and recklessness and I loved it! He opened the storage compartment and pulled out a helmet, holding it out to me without a word.