Motorcycle Club Books Romance Novels & Stories

Chris felt tense, from the way he kissed me, I knew that he had something going on with him, but I wouldn’t dare to push it. When we arrived back home, Maeto was standing by one of the bikes. Something about his face brought so much worry that I couldn’t comprehend. Once I step down from the bike, Chris grabs me back and hugs me. Can I take you to my club? My eyes immediately widened when he asked me that question. The thought and the thrill of it sent chills down my spine. Chris had one of the biggest clubs in the country, and where he had a meeting with his motorcycle club.

"I... No, tha-thank you, bo—" "Eat!" A glare was adequate to have him down the glass of juice and three cheese and tomato sandwiches hungrily. "Thank you, Boss." I acknowledged it with a nod. "Now tell me what it is?" "It's the new motorcycle club in Yakima, The Venturi." "A new motorbike club?" My knuckles turned white from clenching them tight.

6 star rating out of 596 reviews. ********************* Harley: The Outlaw Chronicles: Book One - Completed - A Secret Romance in an Outlaw MC! Harley was the product of an affair. After her mother died, she decided to make contact with her father, Ron Hale, a criminal and leader of a felon-filled, biker outlaw club, The Savage Scorpions. After months of virtual communication, she decides to visit him in his small Californian town of Pleasant-Tree-Ville. When she arrives, she gets less than a warm welcome from the other SS members. As the days pass, she starts forming friendships, bonds and something a little more with Alexander Coates, Her father's second-in-command... and best friend. It'

She stops just before my boots, starring at my bike with another look I can't interpret. "Not like that darlin'." Her bright green eyes peer back up. "I'm part of a motorcycle club. The old ladies of that club, they threw a Christmas party. I should be there right now. Want to come?" Her eyes narrow but stay alert as they stare into mine. Most woman have one of two reactions when I mention my club. They either want nothing to do with me since I'm with what's considered a dangerous and criminal organization, or they want me more, naked, on top of my bike.

MATURED CONTENT INVOLVED!! WARNING!!! Mister handsome, whose name I still refuse to know, held my hand, as he dragged me out of the club. His hands entwined with mine made me feel a spark that I can't explain. It seems that he isn't a rich dude because he leads me toward his motorcycle. "Hop in." He declares, handing over an ailment to me. I wore the ailment, and climbed the bike. This is the very first time that I'm climbing on a motorcycle, so I couldn't help but cling to him.

Being flat-ass-broke, we bought old, beater bikes to get around town, which led to fixing those bikes, which led to fixing bikes for other people, which eventually led us to the Burning Saints Motorcycle Club, and our current lives as Minus and Clutch. “Hey man… ah, we’ve got a quick stop to make before we go to the Sanctuary,” Clutch said. I could tell by the shift in his tone that I wasn’t going to like where we were headed. Turns out I was right.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, making the ground vibrate subtly beneath my feet. Suddenly, the compound was alive with movement. The rumble of engines, the glint of chrome. The motorcycle club. They appeared out of the shadows, a tide of leather and steel, encircling Damon and his small envoy. Each biker pulled up, engines idling, forming a tight, menacing ring. And then, the wolves. More of them than I’d ever seen, their eyes glowing in the darkness, their huge forms flanking the bikers, mirroring their aggressive stance. The air crackled with a dangerous energy.

Only Damion can turn a battlefield into romance. I read the card. You know me – my guilt ... my demons ... my scars ... but as long as you stand next to me, they seem not so scary.I'm not a perfect prince on a white horse - I'm a devil on a black bike. But I'm real, and I'm yours. Forever. My belly-up heart flutters and purrs. He’s my broken San Francisco boy. Not perfect. Not even close. But he’s mine. Exactly the way he is.

NIRVANA'S POV The campus library was dead silent. I sat across from Jesse at a secluded corner table on the third floor. An open textbook sat in front of me, but I hadn't read a single word. My brain was entirely consumed by the puzzle pieces finally snapping together. The motorcycles. It seemed so painfully obvious now. Adrian and Ronan’s absolute obsession with those high-end, modified bikes wasn't just a rich man’s weekend hobby. The leather jackets they wore weren't a fashion choice. They were in uniform. They were patched members of a secret, underground motorcycle club.