Sexy Bikers Novels & Stories

"The motorcycle club, where the bikers hang out." At her words I jump forward, sitting on the edge of my seat. "Katy," I whisper as if somebody else could hear us. "You can't break in and look around a motorcycle club." They were bikers, for god's sake. With leather chaps and shit. I don't care what Anessa says about them being her best customers. There are limits. Snooping in on a mobster with good pasta okay, I'll consider it, but this is too far. Everyone knows bikers don't know how to cook. "This is why I didn't want to tell you."

Shit kickers that had seen way better days and never smiling. They were the kind of bikers that put fear in every man, woman, and child when they rode through a town one hundred strong. They kinda remind me of the gunslingers of the old West. Only these days, old man Mallory was a lot more refined. He wore silk suits and loafers and shit.

"Damn it, any woman Tyger sets his eyes on is his. Tyger, let us help you teach him a lesson." Seeing the way this group of bikers was yelling, Jean was frightened and turned pale. She had heard about their story before; they were complete desperados. Tyger looked at Jean and could tell that she seemed quite innocent. These kinds of innocent girls who came out to have fun were usually pretty rebellious. They had watched a lot of old movies and liked the handsome main characters in them. For many years, women were either coerced by him or willingly approached him because of his status.

They will do whatever it takes. The bikers are all now brandishing weapons, too. A few have rifles, but most are armed with crossbows. All are aimed at our company. They have to know that any fight with us will be a total mismatch, but they don’t seem to care. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sneak disappear. If things go bad, he’s not going to allow himself to be a target. Good for him, I think to myself. “Turn those damn bikes off,” Dad commands. “Don’t you know what those engines can attract?”

"Get some Sweetbutts to sit on her while we decide who is going have her first. Church over here. Walking to the other side of the bikes. Emily tried to remain calm, though her heart was pounding. She realised she was in big trouble here, one of the girls who were sat on her said she was looking forward to licking all the cum from this sluts cunt once the boys have finished with her. but the bikers were soon back and they surrounded her, their eyes leering, their catcalls ringing in her ears. "Please let me go." Emily pleaded.

I chuckled, lowly, knowing these fuckers don't have an inkling of what they are getting themselves into. I cocked my head and let a mocking smile tug on my lips. The bikers, looked at each other then barked out a laugh. Typical humans. They are unaware of my pack members watching and had already stood from their seat, perked up and ready for my command. "What the fuck are you smiling about?" The bald biker spat, as if turning off a switch as his face turned dead serious. It makes me laugh. His hands moving to grab me but I was quicker, and snatched his throat, lifting him into the air.

He merely shot forward. The two bikers were close, neck-to-neck. “Come on, go Max!” the Outlaws cheered their leader. “Go Aston!” the Ryders cheered their leader. Giselle shouted calls of support for Max while Lexi wanted Aston to win. When they came past us again, Lexi had her boobs open. “Yayyy Aston!” I shook my head at her. Dumb bitch! Max spun his bike to throw dirt in Aston’s face. It slowed him down just enough for Max to take the leader around the corner.

Four massive cruisers burst through the sideways to block our path to the highway. Cane slammed on the brakes, the Wraith skidding in the sand as he slid off the road. We were boxed in. From the shadows of the trees, a dozen more bikes emerged, circling us like a school of sharks. These weren't the same as the black SUVs of my father's security detail. These were scavengers. The men on the bikes were dressed in worn denim, their faces smeared with dirt and grease. Their eyes filled with a predatory glow I now recognized all too well. These weren't humans.

Their uniforms were blue, layers of white and red slightly visible. “Of course, we should” One of them spoke, and his words carried the thoughts and beliefs of the others. “Yes. And it's fine if we don't” I smiled. Not like I don't believe them, but humans should always prepare for disappointments. Other bikers kept arriving and I knew even though the tournament was taking place in the smallest city of New York, it was still going to be one of the biggest and the best. Soon, the whole place was filled with spectators, and racers but more still kept arriving.

The boys froze, their smirks faltering as the sound drew closer, louder, until headlights cut through the dark. I blinked against the brightness, my heart hammering. A group of bikers rolled into the street, leather and metal glinting under the moon. The roar of engines silenced only when boots hit the ground, a dozen shadows dismounting with lethal grace. The boys around me cursed, panicked, but it was too late. The bikers moved fast, too fast. Snarls filled the air, inhuman and feral, and before my terrified eyes, they tore into the boys with a violence that made me stumble back. Fists cracked against bone. Teeth bared. They weren’t just fighting—they were biting. Wolves in human skin unle