Dear Mr President I Want You Back Novels & Stories

Okay, here goes nothing. “ I want it back.”

Dad tried to reason with me. I, on the other hand, was having none of it. "Dad, I don't care. You're the President. You have the absolute power needed to put him back on track and you will do it, dad!" I just wanted Jared to be happy. I wished I had his number, I would have called. He needed someone by his side at this time. "Princess, I know you like this guy but he's way too old for you..." "Daddy!" I cried, stomping my boot. "None of your business. Just put Jared back into the race."

"Are you having a good time?" Alexandra heard a husky voice ask from behind. The music in the club made it rather difficult to hear him. The flickering lights weren't helping either. "What!?" She yelled out, hoping he would hear her over the music. He smirked before letting out a chuckle. "I asked if you were having a good time!" He shouts. This time, she heard him a lot better than the first. Alexandra took a sip from my drink and smiled.

I'm sorry. Why? Pumpkin? I don't know. Do you really have to end it know? Yes! I'm sorry. I love you, Pumpkin. But I don't love you anymore, Alex! Please come down! I'm outside, please. Go home. My decision is final. Please... I'm sorry. Don't try to approach me; I don't want this anymore; we're done. Please answer my calls. I want to see you. We don't have a problem, right?

“Let’s go get our future back.” —-

"I'll be right back." **

I thought as I jerked myself off to the thought of Ophelia, riding my cock on the kitchen floor with her back turned against me. * Hello, my lovelies. I’m backkkk and I missed you all so much. I went awol due to some personal issues and can reassure you that I’m fully back now.😌 Please continue to show me love like you’ve always done.🥰 Thank you all.❤️

“I want you back, Kimberly. Be my wife again.” But then again, did I ever really know this man?

I want my twin back. I want Karyna back.

“There’s… a mosquito in the soup.” Silence. Then a quiet exhale on the other end. He understood. Of course he did. “Well,” Eli said slowly, “it sounds like someone’s finally screwed the pooch.” His tone wasn’t mocking. It was worse. It was resigned. “So tell me, Mr. President… what exactly do you want me to do?” I clenched my jaw. “You tell me,” I shot back. “Because from where I’m sitting, the world is burning—and you’re acting like it’s already over.”