Floor Wax White

THIS BOOK CONTAINS RAW, STEAMY, AND EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. IF YOU'RE NOT 18+, PLEASE ABSTAIN. When Shemika accidentally kills her brother‑in‑law during a four‑hour, drug‑laced BDSM session on the night of her sister’s funeral, she flees and was hit by a car. The driver turns out to be the smooth‑talking ex‑convict everybody calls Bishop, manager of the ultra‑exclusive nightclub known as Wet Nights. He carries her to the club’s secret hospital beneath the dance floor for her to recover.  To dodge arrest, Shemika begs for a job at the club. After a shocking demonstration of wax play, orgasm denial, and bondage, she signs a blood‑ink contract and becomes property of Wet Nights. She was taken to the performers’ 14‑storey dorm, known as the Crimson House where all the performers (employees) at Wet Nights stays. The house is managed by the predatory house‑manager known as Sinner—he fucks every newbie in the house as part of their onboarding session. On her first night, Shemika is bullied to parade naked through all fourteen floors, but the funny bisexual icon Jax steps in and helps her. Soon Shemika teams up with two dancers namely; Synn, the ice‑cold top performer, and Lexi, whose real purpose is finding her sister who vanished while working at the club. But some doors in Wet Nights stay locked for a reason…

My mom had a sudden heart attack, and the medical bills were piling up faster than I could breathe. I was desperate, so I turned to my rich boyfriend, hoping he could help, or at least offer some kind of solution. But instead of the support I expected, he unleashed a tirade that hit harder than anything I'd ever heard. "So this is why you're with me? Just for my money? You're no different from those other women throwing themselves at me. You're all the same—pathetic and shameless!" Before I could even react, he shoved me out the door. Later, when he finally understood the full story, he handed me a bank card, no questions asked. "Candice," he said quietly, his tone almost remorseful. "The password is your birthday." I didn't say a word. I just let the card drop onto the floor and walked away without looking back.

The afternoon my critical condition notice was issued, Silas Stenson popped a bottle of champagne in the lab. On social media, a photo showed him and Wynter Keller standing side by side in the golden sunset, their white coats bathed in light. The caption read only one line—'Ten years—it finally worked.' Everyone said he was devoted, that he'd spent ten sleepless years trying to save me. When the nurse, her eyes red, showed it to me on her phone, I was staring at the wavering lines on the monitor. No one knew that the drug had already been perfected a year ago. And I was the only candidate who wasn't allowed to receive it.

The white rose lay on the floor dripping with blood. A small,shiny blade lay beside it. A beautiful object in such a terrible and painful condition. The blood stain on it did not hide it's immaculate and beautiful nature. She puffed smoke in the air and took a sip of the liquor beside her,as she glared at the bleeding rose with sad and anguish filled eyes,it told a lot about her and her agony. She was as beautiful as the rose in front of her. She took out an envelope containing different photos of different people in it,she stared at the image with a mixture of rage and disgust. “Revenge!!!“ She yelled as she fell to the ground crying” “I'll not sleep,I'll not rest until you all are dead!!”

"You whore!" A masculine voice. "You philanderer!" A feminine voice. "I'll kill you in this house!" He bellowed as he charged straight to the woman and started beating her up. The little boy stood at the door and watched his parents go about their daily routine, tears spilled from his eyes. He stood in the shadows, just watching and crying. If he speaks out loud, they'll remember him and his father will beat him also. No one remembers him. Not unless they want to beat him too. Then he saw the blow, heard the awful sound. The blow that made a difference. The blow that made that day stand out from every other day. His mom stopped screaming, she laid there on the floor, staring into nothingness. Dead. "Gia." His dad paused mid-beating. No answer. "Gianna!" He patted her white arms turned red from being beaten. Terror filled the little boy's system, a sound escaped his mouth, drawing the man's attention. "Oops. I've forgotten about you." He said to the little boy. "Mom's dead..." The little boy said in a tiny voice. The man looked down at the lifeless white woman, "Seems like it." He looked at the boy with an eye filled with menace. "You'll pretend you didn't see a thing. You'll......" The siren rang outside. The police had arrived. A neighbour had alerted them when he heard the noise. He watched as the policemen pointed their guns at his father. He watched as they took his father away. He remained hidden, his blue eyes returning to the woman who laid on the floor, with eyes as blue as his. She was staring right at him. Finally, she sees him. Only in death, did she really see him. Something died in that little boy that day. Replaced with bitterness.

After working abroad for several years, I returned home, only to have my parents arrange a blind date for me. He was tall and strikingly handsome, honest in character, steady in demeanor, and came from an excellent family background. In short, the perfect candidate for a husband. I told myself that sooner or later, marriage was inevitable, so I settled on him. The day before the wedding, I went to the church—only to be stunned by the sight before me. The entire place had been transformed into something sinister and grotesque. The walls were plastered with terrifying photos of corpses, the floor littered with wax figures of severed arms and legs, and even the flowers had been dyed black, dripping with blood-red stains. But the most infuriating part was the image hanging right at the center of the church—an AI-generated picture of me, pinned beneath my fiancé, as he whipped me. My whole body trembled with fury. I stormed at the staff still working on the decorations, ordering them to stop immediately. Just then, his best friend, Nina Cullen, walked in. "Don't stop. Yves prefers this wedding style." I froze, staring at her in disbelief. "How is that possible? Who in their right mind would decorate something as joyous as a wedding with gore? This is insane!" Nina only gave a cold, arrogant laugh. "That's the theme. If you want to marry him, you'll have to accept it." Speechless, I immediately called Yves. "Yves, I'm not interested in getting married in a haunted house. You'd better restore the church to normal; otherwise, this wedding is off."

How did this even happen? The girl whom she thought of as her best friend, the girl with whom she's sharing her room, is actually a guy? Hazel stood there with her feet rooted to the white marble floor, not even bothering to fake that utterly shook expression of hers by watching the handsome man dressed in woman's clothes. "She's a guy!?" Finally Hazel let it out straighning her mind. Tristan Sanchez is an undercover cop who by bad luck had to pretend as a sexy paino teacher According to his Cheif's orders. What would happen if the most dedicated and cold officer of the department falls in love with the clumsiest and cheerful girl ever. Can he complete his mission to find the culprit he's looking for? Or he will get distracted by the feeling called love.

Blurb. The candle tilted in his hand, a drop of wax falling onto her breast. She gasped, arching, but he held her down with a firm grip on her hip. “Too much?” he asked, his lips brushing her ear. Her breath shook. “No…” Another drop slid lower. She whimpered, thighs pressing together. “Open for me,” he said, voice low but steady. She obeyed, shivering. “Luca…” He smirked, dragging his tongue over the hardened wax. “Not Luca.” She tried so hard not to say the words, but the wax kept on dropping on her skin, his touch against her body was nothing to write home about. Her cheeks flushed. “Daddy…” “That’s better,” he whispered, another drop marking her skin. “Say it again.” Her nails dug into his shoulders as she moaned. “Daddy.” ****** She's 21 and he's 39. Sold at an auction, Mirabelle never expected her buyer to be Luca DeLuca—the most feared mafia heir in the country. Luca had bought her for a different reason, but didn't imagine he'd keep her. Their marriage was supposed to be a lie, a deal for power and just to deceive his father. But his touch burns, his jealousy cuts deep, and every night with him pulls her closer to danger and to a love she swore she’d never feel.

Lucinda Jones works in a nightclub to pay off her father's debt. She had no idea he'd be dead before she was old enough to attend college, so she had to learn to take care of herself now that she's alone with no family or close friends to look after her. Tyler Ackerman, one of her regular customers where Lucinda works, offers to pay off the debt in exchange for her hand in marriage. Lucinda agrees and signs a three-year contract with Tyler Ackerman. Meanwhile, Tyler develops feelings for Lucinda and tries his best to get her to fall in love with him too. Will Lucinda fall in love with him or will she leaves when contract ended?

When Nyelle’s father betrays the Alpha King, Killian, she becomes the pawn in a ruthless game of vengeance. Kidnapped and humiliated, Nyelle is forced into Killian’s world, where his cold cruelty clashes with the restless hunger of his wolf. Bound to share his chambers, she endures torment, isolation, and the weight of a secret curse that shackles her wolf. But fate weaves danger and tenderness together. In stolen glances, protective gestures, and fragile trust, Nyelle begins to see a man beneath the armor of the Alpha King. Their bond deepens in moments of survival, shared laughter, and quiet intimacy—until betrayal and blood threaten to tear everything apart. When Nyelle’s wolf finally awakens, it’s in a storm of violence and desperation that costs Killian’s brother his life—and Nyelle her place at Killian’s side. Convinced she deceived him, Killian casts her back into her father’s cruel grasp, only to discover too late that she carried his child. Shattered by guilt and love, he wages war to reclaim her. The truth unravels in blood: a curse conspired by her father and his brother kept Killian blind to their true mate bond. But even with the curse revealed, scars remain—Nyelle’s trust is fragile, and Killian must fight harder than any battle to win her heart again. Through heartbreak, betrayal, and redemption, their love is forged in fire. And when the final threat rises, they face it not as enemies or strangers, but as true mates and equals. United at last, Killian and Nyelle rise as Alpha King and Queen, their bond unbreakable, their legacy secured.