Romance Biker Books Novels & Stories

"You're hurt." Blood trickles from a cut on my forehead, and my ribs scream with every breath. But compared to a partial shift, this is nothing. "Who are you?" I whisper. "Ryder Kane." His voice is so deep. "And you're under my protection now." Behind him, other bikers are checking the unconscious enforcers. These aren't regular humans—I can smell the wolf in all of them. "Alpha Dominic won't let this go," I manage. "He will send everyone he has."

He was also a man who could make a motorcycle dance through curves that would scare most people, who owned an underground racing empire, who played with death for the thrill of beating it. He was more complicated, more dangerous, more fascinating than I'd ever imagined. And I might be falling for him all over again, which scares me. I was trying to cross a dangerous line, was playing with fire that'll eventually burn me. But I didn't care because I wanted to burn in the passion of Tristan, I wanted him to set my body on fire with not just his touches but with his kisses. Fuck! What was I thinking right now? I could feel my nipples that's pressed against Tristan back, harden by just the thoug

Ace explained. "Ok." Lainey agreed. She wanted no part of that. Some of her favorite romance books to read were Biker Romances. She had no idea how real or made up they were. But normally people got their ideas from somewhere, right? They walked through the main room which was oddly clean and spacious. She figured for a bunch of guys it would be dirty and beer cans or bottles everywhere. A lot of the stories she read were like that. But then she remembered, they were all retired military.

Then, from the back of the room, someone whistled low, long, and appreciative. It was a sound that made her skin crawl. "Well, well," a greasy-haired biker, his face scarred and his grin wide, drawled, his voice thick with malicious amusement. "Look what wandered in. Reaper’s little pet, eh? Thought you could hide from us, darling?" Her throat was bone-dry, aching with the effort, but she forced the words out, her voice surprisingly steady, despite the frantic hammering of her heart.

I was reminded of that morning in the exercise room when he had a fit about me being there. A little devil tapped me on the shoulder, and don't ask me where I got the nerve. "Are there going to be a lot of men at the fair? Do you know them? I hear they're mostly bikers, hot ones, not like the ones from around here." Chantal had said as much about the bikers coming to town anyway, which she'd heard from Wolf. As to them not being like the ones around here, I have no idea if that's true; I'd added that to get his goat, and it seems to have worked if the look he gave me was any indication. "You're playing with fire, little fawn." Why does him calling me that make me feel so warm inside?

Here is a list of my current books: *A Rancher's Fall (Romance) *A Chance At Love (Romance) *A Hint of Misunderstanding (Werewolf Romance) Thank you again. Happy Readings

He offered and handed his pill to me, bringing a bright smile to my face. "Thanks bro." I thanked him, and he winked, rushing out. That was how he saved me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before my secret would be exposed. This was a dangerous path to tread—the type that would bring disaster and death at the end. It was that type of romance that has no happy ending. I knew this, and I should stay away. The best option was to kill her and save myself from falling harder, but my powers are weak in front of her.

Thank you to everyone who has read it. I'm glad so many of you have enjoyed the story. Book two in the Mafia series begins after this point. Sick For Them It is a dark mafia romance. It is not the typical BXG and is MMMF romance. This story is one in which she is kidnapped, and the mafia saves her, and falls in love with her.

She hated how her body bowed to that heat, how the memory of his mouth wrote back into muscle like a note she hadn’t erased clean enough. “Hands where I can see them,” the biker said, voice low warning. Alessio laughed once. “Put the toy away, boy.” Elena turned then because not turning would be its own kind of surrender. Alessio was shadow and sharpness, eyes that warmed only when they were about to burn you. He took in the bike, the skiff, the crate, the choker lying ultramarine against her bruises. And something moved under his cool that looked a lot like want and war at once.

Just one reflex, and probably not necessary, but when I looked up, Lana was there. She stood a few feet away, frozen mid conversation. Her eyes weren’t on my face. They were on my hand. Time seemed to slow to a halt as our gazes locked. Her smirk was gone now, only to be replaced by something sharper and calculating. I dropped my hand fast, pretending to smooth my shirt, but the damage was done. “Watch it, sweetheart,” the drunk biker slurred, oblivious to the damage he'd just done. “Didn’t mean to….”