Sexy Bikers Novels & Stories

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.

Law was feeling a little raw after finally getting revenge against the fucker that had taken out his family, but the son hadn't been there, so that meant we were still in it. I saw a hot new chick off in the corner, but she already had more testosterone on her than flies on shit. Since we had formed the club, there was more pussy in and out these doors than we knew what to do with. I'm not sure what it was about bikers and bikes that make women crazy, but I've never seen anything like it until now. I hadn't seen this one here before, though; I think I would've remembered that ass that my eyes kept drifting back to.

His head tilted slightly, tracking sounds the rest of us couldn't hear. There were six other riders. Seven total. I recognized Marc on the black bike, he was decent, played fair. But then there was Vic on the red bike, and my stomach dropped. Cole on the yellow. Jensen with the scar across his jaw. Three others I didn't know, but they had that look. That hungry, desperate look of riders who'd do anything to win. "That's a lot of competition," Sarah said quietly. "They're not competition," Orion said, and I heard the pride in his voice. "They're just in the way."

It had been full of questionable types, which he liked just fine, seeing as he was one such type himself, and easy women, which he didn’t like nearly as much. The problem was that easy women liked him plenty. He got the attraction, he really did. The ladies went for large, muscular, scowling bikers with big hands, and lots of tattoos. If they weren’t repulsed by his scars, then they found them a turn-on. They usually imagined that he’d gotten them in some badass MC-related event, and Scars never bothered to correct them. It was none of their fucking business, anyway.

Addie replied. "Well, not all bikers are bad. I should know, my brother is one. I also dated one for a while until I got bored with him." Paris explained. "Is your brother in the biker club that's here tonight?" Addie asked. "Yes, he is. His name is Ian, and he's one of their Sargent At Arms. His road name is Joker." Paris replied. "Road name?" Addie asked. "Yeah. It's like their nickname the club gives them." Paris explained.

They don’t need to. The weight of their stares is enough. Draven bikers lean against their Harleys, their cut vests heavy with patches of skulls and wings, their eyes raking me down like I’m poison they’re forced to swallow. A few spit on the ground. Others mutter curses. “She’s a Voss.” “She’ll gut us in our sleep.” “She’s a curse, walking.” I lift my chin higher, biting back the scream clawing my throat. If I break here, in front of them, they win.

Jackie could not figure out why Clemont would have a sudden change of heart, but things would not end just because he said so now. They had no way of getting in touch with the blonde guy. As the light flickered, the bikers released their brakes, and their rides bolted off. Feeling the rush from the sounds of roaring engines, the crowd cheered. Most people pulled out binoculars to observe from a safe distance. The bikers sped ahead, and on the lead was Clarice’s black Harley-Davidson. They gasped in awe. “The female rider is something else.” “I’m impressed. She shows the need for speed.”

This is his second shot on finding whatever the hell happened twelve years ago, he is not about to let go to waste. Sebastian stares at the motel feeling a little less like home but that is all he can manage for now. On the outside of it stands a group of girls dressed in summer dress, and high boots. A few meters to their right are some bikers forever in their dirty sleeveless tops and leather trousers. Their indistinct long dusty beards force them to stand out from the rest of the crowd making their way past the motel. Sebastian feels the need to double check the lock of his car before making his way towards the building. The building is a small one with a flashy signpost and motel visibl

She considered herself extremely fortunate to have the opportunity to talk to him. Miss Admirer: Hey, Hottie Biker! My Hottie Biker: Hi, Miss Admirer. He replied to her with a smiley emoji. Miss Admirer: Today, I saw you going in the car with a girl. My Hottie Biker: You saw me! Seriously, you're my real stalker. She chuckled. Miss Admirer: Where is your bike today? My Hottie biker: You found me travelling by car today because I don't like it if anybody sits on my bike.

The bikers each took a step back as they sensed the threat drawing near. Scarface gulped audibly but still tried to appear brave. “You think you can intimidate me?” he asked with a shaky voice. I bared my teeth. “I don’t think. I know.” The air around us grew hard, and then before I could utter another word, one of the bikers launched himself at me. But I was faster, catching his upraised arm and flipping him onto his stomach with a twist before slamming his front half against the truck. The others were charging forward when Lysander was suddenly there, moving with the deadly speed of a well-schooled warrior.