Bulma was at her desk in her home office when she heard Vegeta’s voice.

"Woman, the gravity machine isn’t working."

Damn, she thought. Well, it was stupid to think my luck would hold out forever. I might as well get it over with. I knew I’d have to see him sometime.

She hit the intercom button. "I’m on my way."

She got up, suddenly wishing she was wearing something other than cut-offs and a camisole. She looked a mess, which definitely didn’t boost her confidence for the upcoming encounter.

She entered the gravity room prepared for anything only to see that Vegeta wasn’t there. Relief flooded through her. She didn’t like working with him poking over her shoulder anyway and definitely didn’t need the added pressure of embarrassment.

Bulma entered the control room. "Computer, start level one diagnostics."

"Diagnostics complete," the computer said. "All systems are running within normal parameters."

"What the. . . ?" Bulma set the gravity meter to ten Gs, and turned the machine on.

"Warning, gravity increase in three, two, one. Gravity increased to ten Gs," the computer said.

Bulma was furious. All her anxiety over seeing him again vanished to be replaced with anger. "Goddamn idiot Saiyan," she said. "Goddamn stupid, arrogant idiot Saiyan! Like I don’t have anything better to do than explain the incredibly basic concepts of "Off" and "On" to his mentally-challenged ass!" She proceeded to turn the machine on and off, chanting "On! Off! On! Off! How incredibly difficult! How outrageously mind-boggling!" She was so into her tirade that she didn’t hear the control room door open and shut. She just suddenly felt she was no longer alone.

She turned to see Vegeta standing near the door of the small control room.

"Why the fuck would you tell me the gravity machine is broken when it’s not?" she demanded.

"I didn’t say it was broken. I said it wasn’t working," he replied.

Bulma began to feel confused and more than a little self-conscious. He was staring at her intently. It wasn’t quite anger on his face, but his expression was definitely starting to alarm her.

"Why on earth would you do that?" she asked.

"Because I wanted to make you come," he said.

Bulma eyes searched his face, wondering if he realized just how the woman that had spent the better part of a week fantasizing about him might interpret those words. But, no, his expression hadn’t changed. He just continued to stare at her with those intense black eyes.

Then he began to walk slowly toward her and Bulma began to feel more than alarm, she felt fear. Suddenly she very much didn’t want to be incinerated and she began to babble an apology.

"Vegeta, I know you’re angry about the other night. I’m sorry, I know you don’t like to be touched, but you just made me so angry and I couldn’t let you get away with it. . . "

Then she couldn’t say any more, because Vegeta had backed her up to the wall, put his hands on either side of her face and began to kiss her thoroughly.

Bulma’s fear vanished and was instantly replaced by total and complete response to his kiss. This was what she’d been fantasizing about, dreaming of—this total and complete possession.

Vegeta broke off the kiss after a few moments and looked at her.

"That shut you up," he said. "Could it be I’ve finally found the "Off" button?"

Bulma gave a half laugh. "No, I’m definitely turned on."

He seemed pleased by her response and rewarded her by kissing her some more, this time taking his hands from the wall and putting them on her body, caressing her curves. They came to rest on her bottom, which was pulled into his hips, pressing her against his arousal.

This is it, Bulma thought. This is what I’ve wanted all week.

She traced her hands up his arms and caressed his shoulders just as she’d fantasized. A chorus of yes, yes, yes filled her mind. It felt so good, so right. She was vaguely aware of movement and realized she was being moved from the control room to the efficiency apartment she had put in back of it.

A chorus of no, no, no filled her brain. You might want this, but you can’t really do this! Get a hold of yourself, girl!

For the second time in a week, Bulma pushed herself out of Vegeta’s arms.

"No," she said breathlessly. "We can’t do this. I can’t do this."

Vegeta was totally confused. One minute Bulma was in his arms just the way he wanted and the next she was across the room and her lips were definitely forming the word "No." It made no sense.

"I’m confused," he said after he took a couple of calming breaths. "By your response I believed that you wanted me."

Bulma gave a hysterical laugh. "Of course I want you. Geez, you’ve got the body of a god and you’ve got both the "bad boy" and "little boy lost" thing going. Yeah, I want you."

"Little boy lost?" Vegeta asked.

Bulma sighed, exasperated. Leave it to Vegeta to totally miss the point and focus in on some perceived slight.

"It’s a look you get in your eyes sometimes. I’m probably the only one who’s noticed it, so don’t worry, your reputation as a tough guy is safe."

"Then why can’t we do this?" Vegeta was appalled at the note in his voice. Was that whining?

"Because. . ." she looked at him, incredulous that he could be missing the real point. "Vegeta, we don’t even LIKE each other."

"That’s a prerequisite?" he asked, moving closer to her.

"Normally, yes. People just don’t sleep with people they don’t like."

He was beside her now and lazily traced a finger across her chest from one shoulder to another.

"I like you," he said.

His voice was soft and husky and even though Bulma was certain he was deliberately speaking that way to break her down, saying things he knew she wanted to hear so she would give in, she found herself responding to it.

"Vegeta," she said, looking into his eyes. "It wasn’t so long ago you were hell-bent on destroying my world. I can’t forget that. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t get rid of the feeling that if we. . . do this, one morning I’m going to come downstairs and find that you’ve ripped my heart from my chest and you’re eating it for breakfast. And when I have the nerve to call you on it, you look at me with your deep, black eyes and say ‘You foolish girl. What did you expect?’"

Vegeta’s lips quirked into an almost smile. "An interesting theory," he said, moving his lips to her ear.

"But you got one thing wrong," he whispered. "I’m not interested in eating your heart."

Bulma pulled back to look into his eyes and saw the promise there and suddenly she knew she would die if she didn’t have him. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and bid sanity goodbye.

When she opened them again, he was watching her closely, waiting for her decision. She tilted her head slightly and brushed her lips with his. She pulled back and waited for him to make the next move.

"You’ll have to do better than that, Bulma," he said in that same soft voice. "I’ll not have you saying I took advantage of you."

Bulma swallowed. Maybe that was what she had wanted; for him to kiss her until all thought fled so she could plead insanity later. Her eyes roamed his face and body. Then she gave in to fantasy, dipped her head and ran her tongue up his bicep, to his shoulder, then down to his chest where she twirled it around his nipple before finishing with a light, brief suck. Then she lifted her head, looked in his eyes and said, "I’ve been dreaming of doing that all week."

Vegeta began to feel real fear— the sight and feel of her small, pink tongue running over his body had a more powerful effect than he could ever have imagined. It was such a small caress and he was no longer certain that he could control the feeling that had been born this week--this outrageous lust, the uncontrollable desire for this human. He was only certain he would die if he didn’t have her.

"That’ll do," he managed to choke out. Then he picked her up and brought her to his bed.

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As first times go, it was not romantic. It was hard and fast and oh, so satisfying. A week of sexual speculation had done its work and now the only thing that mattered was the incredible need to HAVE the other.

When it was over, when all that was left was to collapse and breathe, Bulma would think absently that her top had never made it off. It had just been pushed out of the way.

Vegeta lay on top of Bulma in a stunned state of fulfillment. Now he understood. . . .

He became aware of Bulma’s hands pressing against his chest.

". . .too heavy. . ."

Vegeta obligingly rolled to one side. . .and off the bed.

Bulma sat up at Vegeta’s spill (accompanied by a decidedly un-royal yelp) and peered over the bed.

"Are you hurt?"

Vegeta quirked an eyebrow as if to say "you’ve gotta be kidding.", but answered, "Only my pride."

"Gee, and here I thought that was indestructible," Bulma said.

"Ha-ha." Vegeta pulled up to his knees beside the bed. "We need a bigger bed."

Bulma silently agreed. She’d put a tiny twin bed in his apartment out of spite because he was so nasty to her after he recovered from the gravity room explosion. She regretted it now.

"I have a bigger bed," she said before she could stop herself.

Vegeta eyed her skeptically. "Was that an invitation?"

Bulma licked her lips nervously. Was it?

"That depends," she said. "Can you be discreet?"

At his bewildered stare, she elaborated. "What I mean is, well. . . I know this may be hard to believe given my age, but I’m not in the habit of bringing boys back to my room. It IS still my parent’s house. Yamcha had his own place and, well, you’ve GOT your own place but the bed is woefully inadequate and there’s not room for a bigger. . "

Vegeta took pity on Bulma and held up his hand. "I understand what you mean. Yes, I’m capable of being "discreet" as you call it. Believe it or not, even where I come from sleeping with a man’s daughter is a poor way to repay him for his hospitality.

"I will ask the same question of you. I’ll not have my business bandied about as gossip for Kakarrot’s wife or any of the other people you call "friends."

Bulma wanted to reply that Chi-chi was the last person to whom she’d reveal she had slept with Vegeta. Actually she didn’t think she wanted anyone to know.

"No one needs to know, "she answered. "This is our business. Does that mean you accept?"

"Perhaps. I will consider it." He stood up. "Since you have so excellently shown me that the gravity machine is working, you should leave. I must train." He handed her her shorts, found his own and began to dress.

Bulma took her shorts wordlessly. She put her clothes on and glanced at Vegeta, but he’d gone into his bathroom and shut the door. So much for hearts and flowers. Well, what did you expect? Would you be any happier if he’d said "Thanks for the great time, Bulma. I’ll call you."? No, you got what you wanted—a fabulous fuck from that incredibly handsome, dangerous man. Your problem is that you want more of the same and you want him to want more too. Bulma gave a little chuckle as she left the gravity chamber. Well, he definitely knows where I live. He knows where to find me if he wants me. She crossed her fingers and wished. Please let him want me

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