My Mr Perfect Novels & Stories

It's because of him that my hair has such amazing volume and healthy roots. "I missed you," I told him like I always do every single day whenever he comes back to me. And I tell him because it's true, I really did miss him. I missed having him near me, I missed having him hold me in his arms and keeping me close to him like the precious doll that I am. I'm his perfect doll.

All the while, Mr perfect said and did nothing, just observing at the side while his brothers turned a girl they'd met at a club into their personal fuck sleeve. It stung that he wasn't interested enough to explore my body, but the two cocks I was dealing with felt more than enough at the moment. Then a finger began to poke my ass. It went knuckles deep before Mr perfect's deep, husky voice boomed out, "Leave her ass. That one's for me." Chris didn't complain, and Rafe simply smirked, glancing down at me. "Damn, he must really like you. Else I doubt he'd want to fuck your ass."

The man in front of me was nothing short of a Greek god, his eyes were so deep that you could get lost if you stare into them for too long, he had very dark hair that fell just above his lashes. Moving my eyes downward to his nose, it was so perfect and pointed, his lips, the perfect shade of pink looking perfect on his almost pale skin. He was looking around like he was wandering if he was in the right room, then I noticed his sharp jawline that looked even more perfect, maybe I'll just call him Mr perfect from now on. Seeing that I wasn't answering, he moved forward, taking long strides towards me, 'his legs are so long' I thought, staring at his legs and not thinking about the situation I

Never Again 🌷 “He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love is hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is pe

I said, my voice shaking with anger. Feeling overwhelmed, I started walking toward the door, desperate to get away. But then a thought hit me. “You say you want a perfect life with someone else? After treating me like this, do you really think I’ll ever trust another guy? Let me remind you—perfection doesn’t exist. Everyone has flaws. Imperfections are what make us human. You’re chasing something you’ll never have, Marco. You’re not perfect, and you never will be. No one is. Think about that.”

It’s definitely not that way, Knight. You are the first person I have ever fallen head over heels like this. I have never dreamed of a guy to be mine as much as I prayed for you to be. You are my Mr. Perfect…but, I’m sorry because you’re not my Mr. Right. I wasn’t looking for the perfect one. I was looking for the right person who would be with me until the end of eternity. I really wished and hoped and prayed that it was you. But given all these current circumstances, it’s not going to happen that way.

A sigh left him, heavy and controlled, and I smirked wider. “Thank you, Ms Moore. And please refrain from using words that contain vulgarity.” A genuine chuckle escaped my mouth, and I bit my lip to control myself. Is this man for real? He thinks sexy is vulgar. “I love you, Mr. Ashton. Can’t wait to be pregnant with your baby. I hope you have a pregnancy kink.” There was a cough, followed by a long, awkward silence before the call disconnected. I tossed my phone aside and lay back on my bed, giggling softly to myself.

Her eyes are wide. OH, SHIT! “Sorry,” I try to cover up. Since I am here in only my boxers. Miss Perfect giggles and covers me in a grass skirt and shirt. “Skirt?” I ask with one eyebrow up. “You can always wake up and put on pants, but I can’t guarantee the connection will still be open,” She teases me. “Not a chance,” I tell her with a smile. I hold out my hand and she gives me hers. “Mr. Perfect, how old are you?” She asks as we walk through a green garden.

"Hi. Grace. Good evening. I'm sorry for waking you this late." Grace, the thirty year old single lady, yawned and sighed. "It is okay. I haven't been able to extend my condolences. I'm really sorry. Mr. Anderson was a very wonderful boss to me and the other staffs." "It's fine." She said hastily, to stop the woman from saying something that could make her break down in tears again. "Grace, I really need your help right now." "Anything, Ma." "Em. . .About . . .I heard something about Mr. Idris Kolawole."

And then, because I apparently can’t leave well enough alone, I asked, “Do you always like to play as Mr. Perfection?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly not expecting the question. “I don’t think that’s a fair assessment.” “Oh, come on,” I teased, splashing him lightly with water. "You're like everyone's crush in our class…no no no…in our school!" “Including you?” “Nope…Except me!” He just smiled... Is he the same Mr. Wright I once knew? I looked at him, standing there with his shirt undone clinging to him like he’d just walked off the set of a ridiculously dramatic rom-com, and I couldn’t help but smile.