Best Bathroom Books Novels & Stories

I took my chemise and my toothbrush out and then went inside the grand bathroom. Yes. You heard it right. I said grand. Like a five-star hotel-style bathroom with a walk-in closet that was as big as my bedroom. There was a waterfall shower, a Jacuzzi tub and a vanity top that screamed Hollywood. She had a massive collection of body wash, creams, lotions, expensive soaps, and shampoos displayed in a big glass casing. Huh! Talk about extensiveness. I believe she had redesigned this part of the room because the last time I entered here two years ago, there wasn’t a Jacuzzi tub yet.

If you like music while you read, try “River” by Bishop Briggs. It’s what I was listening to while writing this scene! ***** ~ CARA ~ I giggled when he picked me up, but the nerves and tension of our conversation were still distracting me when he gently placed me back on my feet in the large bathroom. It was a beautiful little room—gold and brown marble tile, natural wood cabinets, a massive mirror over the sink countertop with lights marching in line around it, and thick, plush rugs on the cold floors.

I said aloud. ​I left the walk-in closet and got down to business. Bingo! Here was what I was looking for: a huge bathroom with a jacuzzi in one corner, a double vanity in light brown marble, and a wooden shelf with towels and high-end products. Without overthinking it, I started filling the jacuzzi with sea salts, liquid soap, and my strawberry scent. ​

It was a first edition, bound in leather. "When I'm not destroying things or planning wars," he said dryly. "I do occasionally enjoy a good book." The master bedroom had glass walls on two sides, one overlooking the ocean, one looking out toward the island's interior. The bed was massive, positioned so that waking up would mean seeing the Mediterranean first thing. The bathroom connected to it was a work of art....marble everywhere, a rainfall showerhead, and a soaking tub positioned at the window so you could watch the sunset while bathing.

“If this is the cage, at least it’s a very pretty one.” I bark a strangled laugh. “Try not to let the gilding distract you from the bars.” She flops back onto the bed, arms spread. “These bars have a thread count.” I head for the bathroom, needing a second alone before I start screaming or crying or both. The bathroom is obscene. Marble everywhere. A glass‑walled shower big enough for a football team, a freestanding tub under a window, two sinks with mirrors framed in soft light. Plush towels rolled in baskets. Tiny bottles of products with labels in French.

Like someone wiped it down yesterday. There were books, but not the kind that a teenager like Becca would be interested in. The hardcovers with titles like The Interior Design of Stillness, Modern Geometry in Architecture, and Meditative Minimalism. I opened one at random. The pages were blank. I closed it quickly and backed away. The house was sterile, like it was pretending to be lived in. Like Becca had built a shell and dared anyone to knock. I kept going. The hallway led deeper into the house. On the left, a narrow door was slightly ajar. A bathroom. Too pristine. I touched the sink and it was dry.

High maintenance, considering his various brand-name products, but simple since he only kept one of everything. Another thing she notices is the lack of someone else sharing the bathroom. For a second, Ariana expected a drawer dedicated to a mistress or something, but is gladly proven wrong. She does spot her own clothes lying on top of the hamper in the corner, which looks strangely domestic. Still, you know this doesn’t mean anything. Williams’s sleek bookshelf is bare except for the impressive collection of various shounen manga. There’s a few novels, all of them being related to business or old textbooks, and free of the chic-lit Ariana would read in her spare time.

The doors were made of blurry glass, and the bathroom, a large space adorned with roses and lavender, smelled absolutely wonderful. It was absolutely perfect. It was beautiful. My dreams come true. There was a bookshelf right within reach, and even that was covered in roses, to the very top shelf. I loved to read. Get immersed in the water the same time I get immersed in yet another world. I let out a shaky breath and went inside, my eyes roaming the bath. The bath was a large circle with brewing water. It was purple, probably from a bath bomb, and I gave a small laugh. How did the maid know? At this point, this could also be my own home.

He laughs, backing away, and I turn around again, looking for another door. “So, do we share a bathroom with everyone else, like in the barracks, or something?” I ask, curious. My heart drops a little at the idea – it would be so great to be able to have some privacy, not to mention control over how filthy the shower gets. “Nah,” Rafe says, smiling again and walking over to a bookcase in the corner. “Are you ready for the best part?” I frown at him, not getting it yet, but then my jaw drops again – god, I’m going to wake up with sore cheeks tomorrow, after all of these surprises – when he pulls on a book and the case itself swings open – revealing a huge bathroom beyond.

A plain spine I could not read from the angle. And on top, face-up. A book about marriage. Not the bright-cover kind. The kind with footnotes. The kind with a university press logo on the spine. The kind that takes two hands to hold open because the research inside it is dense enough to need both. My chair pushed back from the desk. I walked to the bathroom and turned the cold tap on and stood at the sink with both wrists under the water and my eyes on the drain. Dominic Hartley did not read things he was not going to use.