Novelas y relatos de Motorcycle Club Books Romance

I recognize the look immediately—the same expression he wore when convincing me to try the climbing wall, when suggesting we raid the kitchen's secret cookie stash, when persuading me to explore the hidden passages beneath the clubhouse. "What did you have in mind?" I ask, already anticipating his answer. He leans closer, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that sends shivers down my spine. "Motorcycle ride. Just you and me. The valley's beautiful at twilight." The invitation dangles before me, tempting as forbidden fruit. Rain's rules echo in my memory: no leaving the clubhouse without escort, no unnecessary exposure, no risking Sorin's detection. But Riku counts as an escort, doesn'

We made it two miles before the motorcycles found us. Not Elena's people. Different. Louder. Cruder. Twelve bikes. Heavy cruisers. Engines roaring like beasts. They circled us on the empty highway like wolves surrounding prey. The lead rider dismounted. Leather jacket covered in patches. Cascade MC. A skull with chains for teeth. "Flora Ashford." Not a question. A statement. "You are a hard woman to find." "Who are you?" "Name is Garrett. President of the Cascade Motorcycle Club. And you—" He pointed at me. At Hope clinging to my neck. "You owe us a debt."

The Nightmare Warriors are a local motorcycle club and after hanging out with them for a few hours, the fucking most awesome group of men this side of the Mississippi. I later learned from a very drunk Candice, that her and Austin didn't have what one might call, a good start at their relationship, but where they are now, is true happiness. I envy them for finding their happy ending, even though fate fought against them, they made it out on top.

I’ve got more stories coming your way, full of fire, feels, and unforgettable love. Currently, I have two other exclusive books on GoodNovel you can dive into right now: 🐺 The Bane and The Alpha Beast – A fated-mate, enemies-to-lovers paranormal romance packed with secrets, slow-burn tension, and devastating desire. 🏍️ Claimed By The Biker King – A gritty, dangerous, and deliciously twisted MC romance where love rides right alongside revenge. Make sure to add them to your library and stay tuned—this ride is far from over.

Nyx, Sulphur and the others are also in our company. “ Club Odyssey?” Chloe reads out loud and I smile. “It screams mystery, right?” I ask and Chloe nods. It's the same impression I got when I learnt about the club. Who would have thought it was a club owned by bikers? “ No,it screams of sin wrapped with candy paper.” Chloe declares and I burst out giggling. “ Then let's see what sin they are offering.” I wink and then saunter inside. I can feel Nyx disapproval charging the night. She has never made peace with interacting with members of the shadow riders MC.

And then he veered toward something that made me pause. A motorcycle. Not one of those plastic, soulless speed machines—but a real one. Matte black. Low-slung. Growling with restrained power. It looked like it had eaten roads for breakfast and still hadn’t had enough. I slowed to a stop, lips curving into a smirk as the machine came into full view. Pure muscle and menace. A beast with two wheels and no apologies. Of course Ryden rode a motorcycle. It was too perfect. The tattoos, the rough edges, the way he’d let me break him open with my thighs and a whisper—he was built for this kind of cliché. The good kind. The kind that made you ache.

the tall, stout man order. “Aye, Buzz,” Cody replied, and turned to leave but before he gave me ‘I am watching you’ sign. Buzz walked to me, “ You have to ride in the middle,” he said, I nodded. I didn't know this man but it seems like he knew something. We rode to their club with me in the middle, I parked my bike and walked with the bikers into the club, as I entered everyone was looking at me. The air smells like sex and alcohol, some bikers and cum slut were fucking in the club.

It made things honest. The motorcycle club sat back from the road behind a long stretch of battered fencing and sun-bleached mesquite, its low buildings and corrugated roofs half-hidden by the desert glare. Rows of bikes lined the lot like sleeping beasts, chrome dulled by grit and distance. A faded hand-painted sign hung over the main hall, the letters rough but proud. Her father’s place. His kingdom. Not elegant like Paris or controlled like Houston. This place was all steel, loyalty, and scars that never bothered pretending they were something else.

I asked. “Yep. Just some club stuff,” he said. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about but I do have to go.” “I understand. Ride safely, okay?” His crisp blue eyes connected with mine, and I held my breath because he was studying me, something else that all his brothers shared. His eyes raked down my body, taking me in as he revved his motorcycle to life. My nipples were standing at attention behind my bra as he straddled his motorcycle. I thought about what it would be like to take him right there on his bike and to suck on his cock until he came down my throat as his legs hummed with the engine underneath his body.

My ribs screamed with every breath—courtesy of Derek's boots three nights ago in that motel parking lot outside Tucson. "You cannot run forever, Jenna," he had said, his voice cold as winter. "I will find you again." But I had run. Again. A rumble split the air. Deep. Mechanical. The kind that made your bones vibrate. I lifted my head and saw them. Six motorcycles rolling down Main Street like they owned it. Leather. Chrome. The devil's head patch on their backs—red eyes, fangs bared. Devil's Reign MC. My blood turned to ice.