Motorcycle Club Romance Novels & Stories

“You go on the back?” “I’m not riding on the back of my own bike,” I scowled. “How about you go on the back?” I winked. “No, it’s fine, I’ll be good,” he pouted. And he was. He brought us both to a very explosive orgasm with me bent over my workbench in no time at all. Ghost giggled like a schoolgirl when he took the YZF-R1 out. I had never seen the second in command of a motorcycle club look so innocently happy.

Big fucker with a missing tooth. “You fight pretty good, son,” he said to me. “I’m not anybody’s son.” “You ride motorcycles, kid?” “Yeah,” I said. “Why? Wanna become friends and talk about them?” He laughed. “You hate the world, huh? That’s okay.” “Don’t hate the world. Just hate this fucking place.” “True. Can’t fault that.” He leaned up against the wall next to me. “You ever heard of the Sandcastles Motorcycle Club?”

Crazy Ride (2) That night on the back of the motorcycle changed everything. There was no careful courtship, no shy texts or polite dinners under string lights. Just a spark that caught and refused to die. Raw, reckless want that kept pulling us back together. A few days later he appeared at my door before the sun was fully up, helmet tucked under one arm, that sharp grin already in place. “Get on,” he said, voice low and certain. I didn’t hesitate. I swung my leg over, wrapped my arms tight around his waist, pressed my thighs against his hips, and we roared out of the village with red dust billowing behind us like smoke.

Desperation had its advantages. By evening, Valentina had bought some essentials from the dollar store and settled into her room. She sat by the window, watching motorcycles pull up to Mack's below. The Riot Kings. Duke's motorcycle club. Her stomach knotted. Would she see him tonight? Was he even still in Riverdale? Maybe he'd left like she had. A familiar rumble made her heart stop. She'd know that engine anywhere. The custom Harley with the modified pipes that growled rather than roared.

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.

As I pushed my fingers in, I promised to myself that this night won’t end without sleeping with him. I am touching myself and trying to remember how Vin stared at me last night, and then I reached my peak when his smirk and lip bite flashed on my mind. When I’m finished touching my self. I immediately went out and trying to find Zilo the owner of this club. Why am I seeing hot guys around? Well I guess this party isn't bad at all. I am glad that i come here. "Hey" someone approached me. "Uhmm, Hi" "Hi, I'm Dexter. I approached you ' coz I saw you walking and you're not partying so I guess that we could chitchat a little you know?"

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.

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

Their matching leather cuts spike volume, as did their lingering and assessing gazes they seemed to throw at everyone. They didn't need to speak much to let other people know that they had a story behind them. Maybe I was thinking that way because I've read their files with Jacopo the previous night. Maybe that was why I feared for the ladies of the web. From what I have seen on the file, The Only Girls Motorcycle Club goes after revenge like a shark does blood. They are relentless when it comes to protecting one of their own. No one had ever come across their club, did something wrong to them, and lived to tell the tale. And knowing what happened to those two prospect of theirs, I knew they

"But I am absolutely not losing this motorcycle club to a man like Viper. And I am sure as hell never losing you, Tessa." He leaned his head down and kissed meslowly, deeply, and with a raw intensity, pouring all of his heavy stress, fear, and dark obsession straight into my mouth. When he finally pulled his lips away, his dark eyes were completely black with a deep need. "I am still earning your heart, Tessa," he whispered fiercely against my skin. "Even while every single thing around us burns to the ground." As I curled my body tight into his broad chest and listened to the distant, roaring sound of heavy motorcycles revving their engines outside the windowbrothers standing guard in the d