Novel & Cerita Motorcycle Club Books Romance

I held his broad shoulder and, “Hi I’m Chloe. What your name?” “Hmmm, I am Vin” He smiled, OH white set of teeth, mint breathe, and redish lips. I kissed him on his side of his lips and went inside. I am laying on one of the bed in this club and remembered Vin, his biceps, his broad shoulders, his toned body, his perfect jaw line, his eyes, and his seductive lips. I started to caress my thighs, then to my abdomen, and then slowly thrust my left hand inside my satin shorts trying to feel my wetness, why am I so turned on to him? As I pushed my fingers in, I promised to myself that this night won’t end without sleeping with him.

Her body leaned slightly forward, and I could clearly feel the warmth of her against my back. I almost forgot to breathe. “Why are you going so slow?” her voice sounded near my ear, half laughing. “I-I’m not slow,” I protested quickly, even though I knew that was a lie. Rachel chuckled softly. The vibration traveled through my back. Then she leaned a little closer and whispered, her voice soft against the wind, “I like riding motorcycles.” I froze for a split second. “Y-you do?” “Yeah,” she answered. “It feels freer. You can feel the wind. Not like being inside a car.”

Midnight Run The moon hung fat and heavy over the desert highway, its silvery light catching on the chrome of two dozen motorcycles thundering through the night. Blaze Carson led the pack, his wolf stirring beneath his skin with each mile they devoured. The creative accounting that made the Iron Fangs MC look legitimate on paper called him "club president," but his true title was carved into his bones – Alpha. He ruled with a no mercy mindset, and he didn't care who thought him heartless. He also didn't have a mate yet, and he wasn't really looking. If he found her, he wanted to reject her because his life was how he wanted it. He didn't want to answer to someone else, especially a mate.

I leave and dont bother to look back i needed to leave and not look back there is no way he felt the same way about me. _______________________________________________________________________________ Its been 2 weeks sine i packed my thing at the Andonite's house and the only contact i had with any of them was when i checked on Ellie. She was doing alot better she told me she didnt like Ricky's new girlfriend her names was Katie. I didnt have the heart to tell here i didnt care to know anything about him or her. He is going to physical therapy and seems to be recovering well he has been even going to the race shop. From what Ellie has told me the car he wrecks was junk and they have been wo

The mafia Don was having more fun than what he had imagined. The race reminded him of Stephen and Damien. However, this time he didn't remember them in a painful way like he always does. Instead, he recalled how they used to have so much fun while training for the club racing competition. The club is called SURVIVORS, one of the biggest motorcycle racing clubs in Xiaomi city.

"But you can't come because Crispin will kill me." "No, the bikers will kill you first." Crispin would bury her and then dig her back up and do it again. It is the stupidest idea I've ever heard from Katy, and from the sounds of it, she has a lot of stupid ideas. Still, I can't let her go wandering off into a clubhouse by herself. I haven't met the bikers myself, but I guarantee they won't find her peeking in windows and then invite her inside for a spaghetti dinner. In college I read Motorcycle Club romance books. I have a pretty good idea what goes down in biker clubs and it isn't a bunch of reformed criminals falling in love.

The way she says sir has by dick jumping and my dom side waking up. Speed After greeting the guys who followed Merigold outside to see me she took us inside to meet everyone else. I look around the club as I walk through and I got to say this was not what I expected for a motorcycle club hangout. I guess when Merigold told me about this motorcycle club I pictured drugs, grungy dirty bikers, and half-naked women. That is not what I see. First of all the place is spotless. There are two pool tables to my left, behind them are some booths along the wall. The room is large and open. Various pictures on the walls some that look like family portraits of the guys in the club. One looks like it was

I wasn't sure who it was but somebody around here knew a biker club and next thing we knew these scary men and women were riding on motorcycles and taking residence in our town. They wore sleeveless jackets with lots of different color patches in the front and a logo on the back that was meant to scare everybody and called themselves The Satan Sniper's Motorcycle Club.

The Diavlo Scurri motor club wasn’t a place for men who played by rules it was carved from rebellion and rebuilt by blood. Broken-down muscle bikes lined the gravel lot like armored beasts sleeping under moonlight. Rust streaked the metal like war paint. Chains hung from the sides of garage doors, clinking softly in the wind. The paint on the walls peeled like old scars, revealing decades of dirt and loyalty. Inside, the dim lights cast long shadows across the concrete, cutting through cigarette smoke and haze like blades. The scent of sweat and motor oil was thick in the air, soaked into every splinter of wood, every steel bolt. This was home. This was the altar I prayed to when I forgot ho

Boarded, up businesses lined Main Street, and the few people walking the sidewalks looked tired and worn. But the Iron Serpents clubhouse looked exactly the same. Axel pulled into the parking lot, and I climbed off the bike on unsteady legs. Hours on a motorcycle had left me stiff and sore, but that wasn't why my hands were shaking. The clubhouse squatted like a concrete fortress, all black walls and barred windows. Motorcycles lined the front, gleaming in the fading light. Music and laughter drifted from inside, along with the smell of cigarettes and beer. "Marco's waiting," Axel said, removing his helmet.