Romance Biker Books Novels & Stories

And the first encounter was unforgettable. There's a bike parked in front of the mansion and I got on it. I was playing on the bike, suddenly someone pushed me off of the bike. I cried out and when I looked back, I first met Artemis. He's a twenty-four years old guy with a nastiest mind, deadly handsome face and figure and hot temper. From the beginning, he couldn't tolerate me at all. He wasn't happy that his father married my mother. But he wasn't like that toward my sister.

Nurse Lira hovered near the central desk, pretending to check inventory, yet her glances toward the clock betrayed her curiosity. “You can go home,” I said without turning. She scoffed. “And miss history being written?” “This is not history,” I said dryly. “No,” she said, eyes sparkling. “It’s… romance in the making.” I ignored the teasing. Romance. The word brushed against my mind like a forbidden thought, one I couldn’t quite banish. Three days. Three days of whispered uncertainty, of watching and waiting. And him, always a heartbeat away. The first headlights finally pierced the rainy dusk.

"I am choosing to end it." He stared at me for a long moment. Then pulled me into his arms. "You are going to give me a heart attack one of these days." "Probably. But at least it will be interesting." We left Chicago at dawn. All twenty bikers accounted for. Some wounded, none dead. Diane's operations destroyed. Message sent. On the drive back to Nevada, I dozed against Albert's shoulder, exhausted. "Eva," he said quietly. "You know she is not going to honor that deal, right? She will come back."

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.

A/N Thank you for your continued support. Hope you enjoyed this short, completed and simple love story. Just a feel good romance, where there aren't any villains, only misunderstandings and a lot of loving. A list of books I have written: *A Rancher's Fall (Romance) *A Chance At Love (Romance) *A Alpha's Chance At Love (Werewolf Romance) A reminder that all my books are mature. I accept constructive criticism, bullying in any forms is unacceptable.

Colt speaks before walking away. “Babes, bitches is a name for women in the bikers community, along with sugarbutt. It wasn’t an insult,” King smirks at me. “Insult or not, I won’t be called a bitch,” I argue. “Fuck Babe, calm it,” he laughs. “No, King, I won’t calm it, and stop calling me Babe,” I argue. “What’d ya rather I call ya? Bitch, sugarbutt? Miss? Professor, or teach?” His mouth kisses my neck. I go to argue and hear someone.

I quickly started walking away. Suddenly, a bike zoomed past me, way too close, making me jump. The bike stopped right in front of me, blocking my path. I shuddered. I didn't know the guy. What was clear was he wasn't a Black Hell member. His jacket clearly said "Fallen Bike." A skull image made it even more terrifying. The biker came closer to me. He was tall, muscular, with a wild stare. He smiled, sticking out his tongue like I was a tasty snack. "Who are you, Sweetheart?" The guy immediately asked me. "I've never seen you in this small town?"

Ryker cleared his throat before answering, "To hang out at the bar as usual." "And drink and get drunk?" Rosalia shook her head. "No wonder," she said more quietly. Ryker who heard that was drawn closer to her. "What does that head shake mean?" Rosalia girded her loins even though she was scared to death of Ryker and those men. "That's what I thought about the biker gang and you confirmed it." Ryker quickly picked up the screwdriver Rosalia was holding. "We're not an ordinary biker gang. We're not what you think we are." Then he threw the screwdriver at the wall and it stuck there. "We're more dangerous than you think."

Francis' ride was on us in a flash, screeching to a halt right in front. He stormed out, his face a thundercloud. "Mr. Collins!" he roared. "Where do you think you're taking her?" Bernard stepped up, shielding me. "I won fair and square; she's mine." "She belongs to me." Francis glared at me. "Natalie, come here." I stayed put. That was when the night exploded with the sound of a gunshot. A bullet sliced through the dark, gunning for Francis. "Hit the deck!" I shoved him down hard.

The rider wore a helmet that completely hid his enter face. “What the hell is that?” The biker matched our speed perfectly then he looked directly at me. A cold feeling slid heavily down my spine and Jax’s arm tightened around my waist. “Do not slow down.” The biker reached inside his jacket slowly and brought out a gun. “Jax!” “I know.” The biker raised the weapon directly toward us and another shot suddenly rang out from somewhere above. The biker’s shoulder exploded violently with blood which made his motorcycle lose balance instantly before crashing hard across the wet road.