The potential beginnings of a novel about main character 'V'. A beautiful yet complex woman who is trying to find answers to unknown questions. Graphic in places. First draft and unfinished.

Victoria awoke suddenly from the bright, warm sunlight striking her face. Her half drawn shabby curtains awoke her regularly. She worked late, always rushed home, always chucked her clothes off, always half drew her curtains and always awoke with the sunlight hitting her face at 9am the next morning. Victoria, Vix or as she liked to go by, V – was a creature of habit.

Turning over slowly she began her daily morning stretch and sigh; another habit V thoroughly enjoyed. Half turned and mid sigh, she suddenly jumped and let out a short, sharp gasp. Her heart beating loudly through her ears whilst gently rolling her eyes back in her head, she mouthed a profanity to herself. V had very quickly acknowledged she had successfully forgotten she’d brought home ‘company’ 7 hours prior… Shaking her head at herself as if she was disapproving of her own actions, she turned over fully to scan the face of her new victim. He was still sleeping soundly despite her latest reaction.

‘A very good-looking one this time‘ she conceded instantly.

V stared at him for a while and started to analyse his rather tanned and strong-featured appearance. Pitch-black half-matted hair, rugged, muscles in all the right places, just the right amount of stubble and as a bonus, she thought, he didn’t snore! A catch by any women’s imagination she quickly realised. A few moments passed and she lay staring intently at the naked, chiseled man next to her. This was another habit V had when she brought a stranger back. She didn’t know why she felt the need too but V would always end up staring attentively at them a bit longer than a normal person should. As if she was looking for something from them or endeavouring for certain answers to unknown questions. After a while, like always, she sighed.

‘Damn it, he won’t do it either’ she thought, as she propped herself up.

V got up and walked gracefully and proudly to her bathroom in the nude. Reaching for her toothbrush, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and smirked. She loved her body, was confident with it and was very vain when it came too it. Yet just like staring at the stranger in her bed, she began by having a look and ended up staring endlessly into her own soul through her bright blue eyes. V wasn’t short by any means but couldn’t be classed as tall either. She classed herself as the perfect height. Her pitch-black hair matched the strangers in her bed but her natural beach waves gave her just passed shoulder length hair, a little more volume. With her vainness came an extreme interest in looking after herself. Toned from top to bottom with a perfect tan, V was the skeptical of most men’s imaginations and the envy of many a woman. She knew it. But with all of this came it’s negatives and whilst staring into her glacier blue eyes, she felt the same feeling she always felt. A distinct feeling that something was missing, an inept emptiness that she has never been able to get rid of. This feeling wasn’t a habit, it wasn’t a routine or a tradition – this was her inherent, consistent sensibility that had followed her as long as she could remember. With absolutely everything going for her Victoria Wyboston, what the common person didn’t realise is she also carried a bottomless pit of vacantness. No emotion for others, no feeling for the opposite sex and entirely passionless intimacy. For 30 seconds more, she stared at herself and sharply remembered who she was or potentially who she wasn’t. Either way, for the second time that morning she acknowledged something to herself – she still had no answers and the dark, rugged man in her bed didn’t get her any closer to the truth.

"Keep going, you’ll find it" she said out-loud, popping her toothbrush in the pot and walking back into the bedroom.

“Right, times up! Come on, chop chop. I’ve got stuff to do today and you’re getting in the way” Still naked, Vix addressed the god-like man in her bed.

The man awoke and stared at her like she had just come down from heaven. Without saying a thing, he automatically advanced to her for another round.

“Absolutely not. Did you not hear me? Hurry up... I’ve got stuff to do.” she hissed.

He got up slowly with a shocked, bordering on concerned expression on his face. Vix was sure he had never been spoken too like that or even chucked out of a women’s bed, until now. Nevertheless, the gorgeous rugged man didn’t say a thing. He grabbed his clothes, softly kissed V on the cheek, gave her a small salute and promptly left.

"Hmm, easier than I thought" she expressed, as she started to take the sheets off her bed. Another habit: must wash the sins off the sheet.

As Victoria stuffed the sheets into the washing machine, she started to think about her encounter with the rugged stranger. She felt a distinct feeling of disgust in her gut, yet also felt a flutter when considering their night of 'passion'. She remembered how he’d picked her up, dominated her entirely and then given her oral sex until she came. A completely selfless encounter that she deemed rare going on her past experiences. She’d enjoyed the sex at the time and didn’t understand why the innate feeling of disgust had now overshadowed the experience. For the third time that morning, Victoria acknowledged something to herself. Maybe sleeping with estranged men in order to find answers wasn’t the right thing to do…

"Doesn’t mean it isn’t fun though" she murmured to herself.