Paint In Bathroom Bubbling Novels & Stories

Noah Carter is twenty three, broke, and out of options. His seventeen year old brother Eli has a serious lung condition that is getting worse, and his eight-year-old brother Caleb has quietly learned to stop asking for things because he can see Noah is drowning. With $43 in his account and an $8,400 hospital bill, Noah applies for a live-in personal assistant position he finds at 2am on the bathroom floor. The job belongs to Damien Cole. 34. Billionaire. Blind since a car accident three years ago. Cold, ruthless, and pathologically private. He has gone through seven assistants in three years, and not one of them lasted more than six weeks. Noah walks in with a coffee stain on his cuff and no plan except desperation. Somehow he gets the job. Damien Cole, once he notices something, does not let it go.

“C-Claus, please. I cannot-no more,” My shivering voice failed to stop him and he fastened his pace. “The night is young, little mouse. I’m gonna wreck you and every thought you have of escaping,” he was still holding a grudge against me for trying to run away. “I gave you a choice, be my slave or wife, and here you chose the former. Tell me, Hazel, what am I ought to do if my wife is squirming in the arms of another male, batting her lashes at him, and pressing this,” he smacked across my bare bottom hard and I winced shutting my eyes. “This body of a temptress against him,” I didn’t know my actions would fuel him like this. He was being overly unreasonable. He released inside me enormous times, and still, his length was hard and angry, ready to demolish my weeping core. Our mixed fluids seeped through me to paint my inner thighs but this barbarian refuse to stop.

When my boyfriend came to my family home to ask for my hand in marriage, my sister-in-law, who was usually cold and aloof, became a completely different person. She flung her arm around me warmly and asked, “Cassie, who’s your favorite? This boyfriend or one of the dozen or so men that you’ve brought home before?” As I denied her accusation and interrupted her, she cheekily batted her eyelashes at my boyfriend and cooed, “Oh, yes, yes. Cassie has never brought another man home. You’re the lucky first!” In the midst of dinner, she deliberately took her own soiled underwear out of the bathroom, pinched her nose, and waved it around as she screeched, “Oh my goodness, Cassie! I know you don’t really care about hygiene, but we have guests today! How can you have no shame? It smells so bad!”

One night, as I was making my way to the bathroom around 3 a.m., I saw my dormmate, Yvonne, squatting in front of our door. She was rearranging all our shoes so that their tips were pointed inward. I thought it was funny, so I rearranged them to have their tips pointed outward. The next day, I found that all of them had been positioned inward again. This kept happening for a week, and I continued to scramble things up, hiding the shoes, even, or tying the shoelaces together. But they always ended up being repositioned neatly inward. I started observing my dormmate and found her mumbling to the shoes while squatting at the door. I ranted about it online, only to have my first reply send chills down my spine. [Do you also get the weird feeling that something paranormal is happening around you? You have to move out before it’s too late!]

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.

Sated from their passionate deed, Jonathan Sheffield rises and gently scoops the worn-out Eloise Carter into his arms. He cleans her in the bathroom, carries her back to bed, and lets her settle in. Normally, Eloise will have fallen asleep by now. But she won't allow herself to doze off tonight, not before she takes out the birthday present she's carefully prepared for Jonathan. Jonathan is making a phone call out on the balcony when Eloise quietly takes out the present she has hidden. It's a red velvet box, containing the ring she plans to give him when she proposes. She inches closer to the balcony and is about to speak when she freezes. A shocked, male voice rings out from the other end of Jonathan's phone, which he's casually left on the balcony ledge. "What the hell? You must be out of your mind, Jonathan! You're planning to take Eloise's heart and give it to Sonia?"

A young, beautiful she-wolf moves into the house opposite mine. She always strikes up conversations with me, her tone filled with enthusiasm. "You and Mr. Howl have such a great relationship. Even after seven years of marriage, he still kisses you goodbye when he leaves. It’s so sweet." She blinks playfully before continuing, "I have a friend who constantly complains about his mate. He says every time he kisses her, it feels like he's kissing a fat pig. Her scent disgusts him, and he can't even get hard when she's around. "And at night… just the sight of her belly rolls and sagging skin makes him want to throw up." I don’t particularly like this she-wolf, but I still offer her a polite smile. That night, however, when my mate kisses me, he suddenly freezes—then pushes me away and runs to the bathroom to vomit.

Before the holidays, my old house was demolished by the government, so I received a settlement of almost five million dollars. The next morning, Lawrence Gellar, one of my buddies who hailed from the same village, invited me to a game of poker. Unexpectedly, not only did I lose five million dollars overnight, but I had also written an IOU note to Lawrence, claiming that I still owed him more than a million dollars. Dad rushed all the way from home just to deliver the money that was meant for his treatment. But he relapsed into his sickly condition due to exhaustion, which resulted in his death. Later on, Lawrence kept splashing red paint onto my home and caused a ruckus at my workplace every day. I couldn't handle his harassment at all, so I chose to commit suicide. When I open my eyes again, I see Lawrence sitting right in front of me while yelling, "Why did I lose again? Since you're on a lucky streak, you have to play a few more rounds!"

Forced into marriage as a substitute for her twin sister, Valeria Hale finds herself bound to a man feared by all—Mr. Devil. Rumors of his cruelty and ruthless nature paint a terrifying picture, and she braces herself for the worst. But her mystery husband never shows himself. Instead, she is drawn to his devastatingly handsome assistant, Zane Michaels—a man who embodies everything she has ever desired. She knows she shouldn’t want him. She knows she shouldn’t crave his touch. Yet, she does. Torn between forbidden attraction and the looming wrath of the husband she has never seen, Valeria fights to suppress her feelings. But her world shatters when she discovers the truth—Zane and Mr. Devil are the same man. She had fallen for the devil himself without even knowing it. Now, faced with his deception and the secrets surrounding their marriage and her birth, Valeria must decide—was she merely a pawn in his grander scheme, or was their love the most dangerous game of all?

An unexpected love between the aloof CEO and the clumsy girl next door. A chance meeting, a twist of fate, an unexpected development, what will happen when their two worlds collide? Devin swept a cold glance across the apartment that he now had to stay in, "this is the size of my bathroom at home..." he muttered to himself. Nyx peeked at him, wanting to know his reaction to her humble home. Hearing his mumble, her heart sank a little, but she spoke "Well this isn't going to be forever, you can take my bedroom for as long as you're here, so you can put your stuff down in there. I'll just sleep on the sofa." Devin raised an eyebrow at Nyx's words, before clearing his throat and replying, "Whoever said you're going to be sleeping on the sofa? Your bed is big enough to fit us both. You'll be sharing your bed, with me."