Rider Mc Novels & Stories

Jobs were scarce when your last name was Chen and everyone in Coldwater knew your father died owing money to half the town. The straightaway opened up before me, and I twisted the throttle. The speedometer climbed at eighty, ninety, one hundred. My competitor, a rider on a Yamaha R1 who went by "Razor," was half a bike length behind. I could feel his frustration radiating through the night air. He'd been winning these underground races for six months straight until Ghost Rider appeared three months ago. He had no idea Ghost Rider was a woman. None of them did. That was the point.

He warned, before walking out and heading to the entrance. I finished work with Rider standing close. He was the only brother, beside Alex, who stayed this close to me. He was constantly looking round, trying to spot any threats. Everyone had been vetted by Holgate, he was just being precautious. It was coming up to 5pm, time to clock off. I wasn’t working late today, I had the rest of the week, because I wanted to catch up on what I had missed, but I had nothing left to do. I logged out of my computer, signaling to my boss that I was done for the day. He nodded and gave me a thumbs up. He also nodded to Rider, Rider was intimating to everyone I worked with, he was tall, around 6ft 6. He pro

Alpha Jasper West, a high-strung rodeo enthusiast, is enjoying his life and winning big as a bull and bronc rider in the lower states of the US. However, he receives an urgent call to return home to Montana and the Medicine Rock Pack. Before he can leave New Mexico, he unexpectedly meets his mate, Lianna Baca, who’s a barrel racer. Despite his urgency to reach home, Jasper decides to take Lianna and her horse along with him on the journey back home to Montana.

Jack leaps at the rogues, and James staggers up, holding his side. "I'm okay, Jack. We hear James grit out. it just took me by surprise. I'm fine, "he goes back to blocking hits and kicks with Jack. Motorcycles are heard, and we watch Alpha Tyler pull up with his club and jump off to join the fight. Tge fighting is brutal, and I feel genuine fear as we watch.

I would not beg. A motorcycle engine cut through the air, slow and deliberate. The sound pulled everyone's gaze toward the center of the yard. A sleek, black bike rolled forward, and my breath caught in my throat. The rider moved with a calm that spoke of power and control, as if the world bent around him. He dismounted with unhurried control. Kade Cross, they called him Ruin.

I finally won. As I stood there, my helmet in my hands, my gaze fixed on James as he looked disappointed. I was soon given my medal, and of course, the people who bet on me were all jumping in excitement. They had won, and I had also won. I would forever be the mafia lord, and my dad wouldn't even realize what hit him. The moment he does anything to Blair, that is the time I would show him the kind of person I am, I vowed to myself as I found my way toward the crowd. Of course, to get my winnings, James pulled me back. "I thought you said he stopped biking," he said as I laughed.

There are only two things in this fucked up world I give a damn about, motorcycles and women. ​I ride them both the same way with a heavy hand and zero mercy. I like easing into the stroke, feeling the machine warm up beneath me, then manhandling them around tight corners until the metal screams. I want them redlining, vibrating through my bones until they’re begging me to let off the gas. I don't do gentle. I do control. ​Sup, Boss.

Candi stated with repulse adjusting herself on Tyler’s laps. “Ty already got some with the tomboy, trouble in paradise already?” Shane said wiggling his eyebrow “i bet she couldn't get enough and she just have to crawl begging back,” one of the boys commented, the whole table erupted into laughter and what was left of the courage I built up shattered immediately. Clover, one of the players-who is also a jerk-sitting at the edge of the table, then stretched his legs forward when a boy was passing with his lunch tray and the content landed on my body as the boy tripped.

It’s dangerous. It’s risky. That’s the point. When I’m done, I refuel, lube the chain, and talk lines with Sean. He rides clean. Controlled. Practical. We balance each other. “Eat,” Mark says, tossing us beef cut rolls. “And drink your Monsters.” We eat, while he talks strategy, and swallow nerves. “Come, the meeting is about to start.” He hurries us along to the rider’s meeting, where the referee gives out more information and rules, and also talks about problems that occurred during the preruns.

Also, doesn't make any sense as to why they would work with him. "Ran into one of our old drug runners. He had called us down to talk and when Chance and I went down there, he was running his mouth about this new MC that he saw. Didn't really sound right to me." "What do you mean?" Max asks sitting up in his chair. He's always to the left of Austin, as I'm always to his right. As road captain of this MC it's my job to be a planner. I'm the one that checks everything over for safety and the riders when we go out on runs. Although we don't deal drugs anymore, I still have to make sure our asses our safe for our other runs.