Sexy Bikers Novels & Stories

And his voice— His voice promised war. "Two days, and you'll see exactly how much those rules have changed." He turned. Sharp. Aggressive. And his wolves fell in behind him. The Beta hesitated. Just for a second. Like he was going to argue. But Shianne revved her bike. Loud. Pointed. And he moved. The bikers formed a loose escort. Not touching. Not threatening. But there. A wall of leather and chrome and barely-contained violence that made it very clear—

Why won't they? He is a moderately built and heavily inked lad with strikingly cool features, like a deity. He had chiseled jawline, flawless white skin, deep blue eyes and a nice crew cut, which suited his face perfectly. He was the epitome of perfection itself and one of the famous sexiest bikers in college. Carl was his rival because they both have the same talent, good looks and a few similar qualities. “I know it's Jade…” Carl growled amidst clenched teeth when he saw the faces of one of the bullies.. “That two-timing asshole! She almost got me laid a few weeks ago.”

She opened her mouth to scream when the sound of motorcycle engines roared down the street. Six bikes appeared from around the corner moving fast. They weren't Vipers. The engines sounded different. More expensive. The bikes pulled up in a half circle around Maya and the three men and suddenly the air felt different. Heavier. The riders killed their engines and the silence that followed was worse than the noise. They climbed off their bikes and Maya saw their vests. Iron Wolves MC. She didn't know if that was better or worse than the Vipers. One of them walked forward and the others followed. He was tall with dark hair and the kind of face that probably got him anything he wanted. His leathe

Huh, were we going on bikes? They're row after row of gleaming metal, the engines rumbling low. The scent of fuel and leather mixed in the air, intoxicating and deadly. My pulse quickened. Of course. I had forgotten, this family, these Alphas… they weren’t just wolves. They were bikers. Dangerous, untouchable, feared. One by one, everyone climbed onto their bikes, their movements easy with practiced confidence. Everyone but me. I stood awkwardly at the edge, my arms crossed tightly as I tried to mask the rising panic in my chest.

It seems he knew all of it was a made up story. “And this biker, what's his name?” he asked, eyes still locked on his notepad. “Mordred Sinclair,” I replied, letting the hate drip into every syllable. “He’s got a crew. Black Vipers or some biker gang bullshit. Check the cameras outside. You’ll see.”

“But that’s the point. Let them see how far we’ve come. Let ‘em choke on it.” I chuckled. “You always did love the sound of chaos.” “Only when we’re winning.” Later that night, Tessa came into the garage, holding up her phone with a mischievous grin. “So, what do bikers wear to award shows?” “Leather and attitude.” She rolled her eyes. “That’s your answer for everything. No, seriously, Ryder. If we’re going, we’re doing it right.” And just like that, she dragged me into a world I didn’t belong to — designer stores, tailored jackets, mirrors with too much light.

My purse which I am holding carelessly falls off and I don't notice or hear my phone ringing. I stagger backwards as the bike approaches me but then I realise it isn't only one but others surround me too. They all stop and I'm caught in their middle. I don't recognise any of the bikers but they really seemed creepy. They all get off their bikes and move closer to me, a smirk tugging at their lips. "Finally, we found a lone wolf to satisfy our urge tonight." The tall one says and I'm left speechless. My brows widen in fear as I inhale their scent. They're not wolves but rouges!

Now that was the Ty I knew and loved. "We still haven't seen him yet but if you tracked him here and that book ties in then there are only so many places around here he could be hiding out. We'll get to the bottom of it. Just one more player, he should be here..." Just then Chaz opened up the gate and a whole fucking crew of bikers came riding in. The leader dismounted off his custom made top of the line ride with his wife's name emblazoned on the side and headed for us. One smooth motherfucker this one, and the shades just tipped that shit over the edge.

Yet, in Jessica's eyes, he was still part of a gang, and she didn't want that kind of life for her mother. Jessica attempted to dissuade Frannie from pursuing the relationship on numerous occasions, but her words fell on deaf ears. Even when Jessica highlighted the illegal activities and frequent incarcerations associated with bikers in clubs like Slammer's, Frannie brushed it off, defending their love with a familiar refrain: "Slammer insists that the Gold Vipers are different from other motorcycle clubs.

I leaned into the first turn, feeling tires skid slightly, and for a heartbeat, I was a pure predator of speed, control, dominance. As we were riding, I gave the signal to my men, and they started bumping Draven’s bikers, scraping them, forcing them off balance. I gritted my teeth, feeling a surge of twisted satisfaction. Draven’s men cursed and swerved, some barely keeping their bikes upright.