Blank Pillow Covers Novels & Stories

Lily opened them, revealing a room that took my breath away. The bedroom was enormous, far larger than any I had ever seen. The walls were painted in soft, calming hues, and the furnishings were both elegant and comfortable. A king-sized bed dominated the center of the room, its headboard upholstered in rich, deep blue velvet. The bed was made up with luxurious linens, a combination of crisp white sheets and a thick, sumptuous duvet. Piles of pillows added an inviting touch, making it look like the perfect place to collapse and let the world fade away.

Ooh, one of those zero-gravity beds would be cool. The spare bed at Parker’s place was pretty good and Talia was pretty sure she was the only one to have ever slept on it, but this one had a zero-gravity setting. That would be amazing to sleep on. It came with not only a mattress protector and heating pad but not one but two bamboo pillows. It was an absolute bargain.

Noah West's sheets were Egyptian cotton, the thread count probably higher than my monthly paycheck. I woke up to the sensation of warmth and weight. For a split second, in the haze between dreams and reality, I thought I was back in my own bed, hugging a body pillow. Then the "pillow" shifted, and a heavy arm tightened around my waist. My eyes snapped open. Sunlight was streaming through sheer curtains that I didn't own, illuminating a room that was far too large and far too sleek to be my Brooklyn apartment.

A glance in Victor’s mirror revealed that she looked like one of the after photos on Internet ads for diet products. She returned to the bed and hesitated in her decision to peel back the royal blue covers. There were lighter blue leaf patterns stitched onto the fabric in gilded thread. The bed was made so meticulously that it seemed like a shame to muss it up. She finally gave in and slipped in between the silky smooth cotton sheets that were paradoxically cool and warm.

A thin velvet blanket lay across it. With the bunker's heat, heavy covers were unnecessary. A wardrobe, vanity, and desk stood neatly arranged. Oversized plush toys filled the corners. It was a princess's room through and through. Barbara wore white silk pajamas. Her long hair flowed down her back, smooth as satin.

The house had 5 bedrooms and a small out house, Snake and Brett were staying in. My room is right on the end, next to Kylie, the queen bed has a white rich cotton duvet and two black velvet overlays flattened out on the bottom half. The cushion covers are white with black striped patterns. The room has a thick cream carpet, definitely imported from Turkey. The room walls are rough textured with a small desk, a soft high back chair pushed in, and a built in electric fireplace. It’s cozy for a spare bedroom. Too cosy.

It’s weird. My brain still thinks so, but a need inside me that’s just now waking up demands we find ourselves some decent blankets. I have a pallet, two flat sheets—plain and scratchy, but they smell like Clay—and a drab woolen blanket that must be great against the elements but intolerable against bare skin. I’ve got that rolled up in the duffel to make a pillow.

Kai looked after the condom, discarding it quickly before pulling the covers of his bed back and crawling under. My mind was completely blank as I tried to think about what to do. Was it an invitation to slide under the covers? I didn’t think for too long. Seeing that he was holding up the covers, I got in and snuggled closer. I don’t know the thread count of the sheets, but I needed to buy one. They were soft and I could snuggle in them forever. Stop. Don’t go there, Lilith. That is dangerous territory.

"It took ten minutes to get all those pillows off our bed every night, and another ten minutes to put them back on every morning. Ang had this special basket next to the bed where we stowed them while we slept. Now, tell me, please . . . who the hell needs all those pillows? You're not even sleeping on them." "They're for decoration," I answered patiently. "I'm a hundred percent positive Angela would've told you that." "Yeah, she did, but I'm still not convinced." Noah folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "Because who's even seeing them? Me? I don't care about them. Hell, I never even cared about the cover thing. As I see it, all you need is one pillow per person sleep

In the way Nick agrees to things — technically, precisely, without promising he won’t find a reason why one night becomes two. I pull a blanket from the hallway closet. Not the good one, the old grey one, scratchy, the one I use for laundry day when everything else is in the wash. I hand it to him. He takes it. Doesn’t comment on the quality. He’s smart enough to know the blanket is a statement and not a gift. “Pillow’s on the shelf above,” I say. “I don’t need a pillow.” “Suffer, then.”