Badboy Asher Novels & Stories

Daddy didn't want any reminders of my shame as he calls it. Now Mindy has been badgering me about going out with her. She knows I'm not allowed but it doesn't stop her from trying every so often. I like hanging out with Mindy, it makes me feel closer to her brother somehow though she never talks about him anymore. In the beginning she'd brought him up every other second but when she realized how much it hurt me she'd stopped. I miss hearing about him but it was just too painful. He was the only boy I'd ever loved. Well boy might be a bit of a stretch. He was twenty-three when I was eighteen. Rumor had it that he was smart but he was drawn to the dark side, fast cars and motorcycles.

Asher brought the bottle to his lips, and the way his nose scrunched disdainfully had me erupting in laughter. “Is it good?” I teased. “As good as cheap beer can be.” He grunted, his eyes dragging down the length of my body until he stopped just where my hands were, fumbling with the button to my shorts. “Not all of us can afford that fancy bourbon you drink.” Cassidy giggled, but Asher’s attention was otherwise diverted. "I personally think it tastes like gasoline either way."

I let out a frustrated huff. He was too strong, too big. I wasn’t going to get free unless he let me go. “Please may I have the keys?” “Be a good boy and say my name.” “May I please have the keys, Asher.” “Try again.” “Ash,” I whispered. He let out a shuddering breath. Wait. What the fuck? Was he hard? Ash was as straight as they came. He’d fucked more girls than anyone I knew, which, granted, wasn’t a lot of people, but still. He was a proud manwhore and never bothered to hide his many hookups. Was this turning him on?

"I want you to yell—loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear—that you’re a jackass who loves eating ass." His eyes widened in shock. "You’re kidding." I shrugged. "Guess you’re not that sorry, then." I turned back to my bike, laughing to myself, when suddenly— "HELLO, EVERYONE! JUST IN CASE YOU DIDN’T KNOW—I’M A JACKASS WHO LOVES EATING ASS!" I spun around, my jaw practically hitting the pavement. Jamie stood there, red-faced but grinning, hands in his pockets like he hadn’t just embarrassed himself in front of an entire street.

They moved as a unit and followed his every move as if they were his shadow. Asher is the book worm always reading but fucking savage when it comes to fighting. When he was eight some kid was picking on Bella when we took them to the park and Asher laid the kid out so bad we had to pay a hospital bill and a large sum of cash to keep the parents from going to the police. Now the kid he beat the shit out of is one of his closest friends and works her as a guard in training.

Wendy smiled, stepped forward, took Asher's hand, and brought him before her parents, proudly announcing. "Mom, this is my boyfriend, Asher Voss. You can just call him Asher." Wendy said, "He's not studying film—he's our school's quarterback, the most incredible and wonderful guy!"

he continued, his voice dangerously low, “if you cause me a problem, I am going to be THE problem. And you do not want me as a problem, Ariella.” My breath caught, but I didn’t break eye contact. I couldn’t. “I am Asher’s right-hand man for a reason,” he said, tapping his chest. “Not just because I’m his best friend. No, it’s because I’m good at what I do. Now, the difference between Asher and me? He doesn’t get his hands dirty. I do. He stays clean because I’m the one who deals with the dirty work.” He looked terrifying. “Asher might have a little weakness when it comes to you,” he continued, scoffing. “You can offer him your body, your kiss, your love and maybe he’ll change his mind about

“You are harassing my mate.” “Our future Luna.” “My mate.” “Temporary technicality.” Dax’s aura flared. Asher grinned brighter, utterly fearless. “Fine, fine. Keep glaring. But admit it, little venom and I would be a better combo. She has trauma, I have knives. She wants justice, I have free time. She has enemies, I have enthusiasm. It’s fate.” I pressed a hand over my face, torn between horror and the ridiculous urge to laugh. “Asher, please stop talking.”

He hadn’t just lost a title—he had lost the future he had been promised, all because of a well-timed birth. "That explains a lot. It explains why Abel seemed different. There’s history there, weight. He’s not just your uncle; he’s—" "A rival," Asher finished, his voice flat. "He always has been, and probably always will be." She turned back to Asher, her curiosity not yet fully satisfied. "Do you trust him?" Asher’s response was immediate. "No." The word fell like a stone between them, heavy and final. "Abel plays his own game," Asher continued. "He might have stepped out of the pack’s direct line of power, but that doesn’t mean he’s harmless. He’s dangerous in a different way now, more subt

"You are way too old to be playing the angsty Goth teen okay? Get that shit make up and highlight off and act your age." That grabbed her attention, she jerked up at him, eyes blazing, "FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!" But Asher was already back on the street, making his way back home. His night ruined, at least now he wasn't alone in his misery. "I am so going to hell," he thought, getting back into his rundown apartment building, a content smile lighting up his face. * * *