Jamie Miller Heres Your Perfect Novels & Stories

The minimal makeup, the lines of her suit, all created a professional ensemble that looked businesslike above all else. "Mister Whitney?" She asked, taking a step towards him. Her voice was sure, confident and clear. "Mark," He replied, offering a little wave. He rolled his eyes at his own lameness. "I'm Jasmine Miller. I understand Mister Yousef told you I'd be meeting you here?" Mark nodded, and moved forward, shaking hands with her. "Yeah, he said that you're going to be helping me out. Is that right?"

A hiss comes from the mouth of tall man. I take off my white blazer that I wore, then throw it away carelessly. Then, my hand grabs a pair of sword of mine from the back. “Let’s start our game.” - Perfect Mate -

Jam said with a smirk that felt unrealistic, giving Josh a threatening look. “Yes, that’s me. Why? You’ve never heard of a perfect Student Council President before?” Josh said confidently, his hands crossed, looking powerful. Jam choked, his eyes nearly popping out as his smirk faltered, replaced by shaking cheeks. “Then we’ll see who wins,” Jam said, flipping his long hair as if he were a girl. “Noted,” Josh responded, intense flames leaping out from his eyes.

She poured the entire glass over his head. Cold water soaked his hair, face and expensive suit. Their parents gasped. Ethan shot to his feet. "What the hell, Bianca?" She placed the empty glass neatly on the table. "Trust me," she said, her voice surprisingly calm, "the feeling is mutual." His jaw clenched. "I have someone too." She smiled, "Someone handsome" A pause."And well mannered..." She tilted her head. "Unlike youuu." Nobody dared interrupt. She picked up her handbag. "You know what disappoints me the most?"

she said, fighting to find the last word. “Perfect?” Melissa asked and scoffed. “Always put together with the right hairstyle for the right outfit, always home at a reasonable hour so my parents won’t worry, and straight A’s at every school I’ve ever attended.” Melissa sighed. “I’m tired of being perfect. Sometimes, I want to do the wrong thing, and yesterday I did. I did the wrong thing, several times, and it felt amazing.” Melissa’s hair fell over her shoulders, disheveled and tussled, but her face was glowing.

Tiffany’s POV I stared at the marks on my neck in the mirror. They were two halves of a full moon. My heat finally let up and I excused myself to use the bathroom and shower. When I got out of the bathroom there was a dress laying on the bed for me with heels. I checked them and they were in my size. I got dressed and got out of the room and into the living room where Jeremy and Jesse were waiting on me. “You look beautiful.” Jesse told me with a smile.

She stated matter-of-factly. “What are we? Five?” I asked her, hearing her giggle on the other side. “It does tend to keep me young, so whatever works, I guess. Now, do tell me, who are we really talking about here?” Jules asked me, to which I groaned and leaned my back against the wall. “Adam freaking Miller.” I sighed. “Oh, shit. Wasn’t he the guy who…” “YES!” I groaned, lying my hand over my face to hide my own embarrassment for the outside world.

Sheila said pleadingly in a trembling voice, her palms clapping in front of her and her whole body quivering too. This was the first time she was coming directly in contact with Hamilton like this and had dreaded this moment after she heard the stories from the other slave after she was captured and brought here by some of Hamilton's men. “Get over here,” Hamilton commanded her, trying to control his desires, so that he would not end up killing her before he even made use of her. “Please don’t kill me,” Sheila quickly fell on her knees and continued to beg in a trembling tone, hot streams of tears falling down her cheeks, especially since she felt like this was going to be her last day being

I see JJ roll his eyes out of the corner of my eye. She lifts her eyes, and my breath is caught in my throat. She's even more beautiful than I thought. Her eyes are stunning, and her lips are full and plum. She seems nervous. A blush creeps up her cheeks before she extends her hand. “I’m Elizabeth. Elizabeth Miller.”

I had only met her five minutes before, yet it felt like I knew her as well as I knew anyone. I pulled out my phone and started a group text. Me: We’re airborne. ETA ten minutes. Joemar: I’ll be waiting. How is she? Me: You’ll like her. She’s perfect. Joemar: There’s no such thing as perfect. Everyone has flaws. Sometimes, they aren’t apparent until you look closely. Me: Fine, Mr. Negative. Maybe she’s not perfect, but she’s about as perfect a candidate as we ever could have hoped for.