A/N: I own nothing.
Bulma Briefs was a fucking genius.
She was smart and beautiful and rich, but she took the most pride in her intelligence. It was the one thing that was uniquely hers and hers alone. Investors called on her to create advanced machines that could one day run the world themselves. She supplied surgeons with high tech medical equipment used to detect illnesses and cancer before the symptoms even showed themselves. She created military weapons that could purge the Earth of all life at the flick of a wrist. Her father had passed his incredibly talented genes down to her and she had the ability to change the world with them, in her own way.
And this fucking Saiyan Prince in front of her still called her an idiot.
Going toe-to-toe with the fucker was a daily activity and of all the degrading names he called her, idiot was the one that got to her the most. It had her tensing, fist and teeth clenching and the small, invisible hairs on her arm raising on end. If she could growl like he could, she would. She would growl and snarl and tear him a new asshole. It would show him that he wasn't some weak female. It would show him she wasn't useless and she WAS a force to be reckoned with.
The malicious thoughts crossed her mind and she sent him a feral grin. He stood across from her, only the kitchen table separating them but the tension was so thick it was hard to breathe. That damn smirk sent razor like claws down her spine and she wished a thousand times over for the strength of a Super Saiyan so she could show him who the boss here was. He thought he ruled this castle and he was mistaken. He was so wrong it was delicious and she couldn't wait to show him.
An idea like lightning struck her mind and suddenly she realized she didn't need the strength of a God to bring this man to his knees. She didn't need a gun or a sword or Goku to defeat this rock hard asshole. Her grin grew as he caught the way his eyes dipped down to her cleavage that sat above her crossed arms.
The only thing she needed to defeat him was a simple gesture. A human gesture he probably didn't even know about and that knowledge made her all the more excited. She could feel the heat pool between her legs as she took in his physique.
Bronze skin pulled taught over stacked muscles. He looked ripped and sweat trickled down the fine lines of his pectorals, trailing down to his abs stacked on top of each other. He went far beyond a six pack with muscles in places she didn't know existed. She longed to run her tongue over them and the thought made her press her legs together to alleviate the pressure building. Those fucking training shorts weren't helping her cause either.
His ass looked perfect, however.
"Like what you see?"
His gruff voice brought her eyes back to his black ones. His smirk had grown as he brought his hands up to tug on the small white towel around his neck.
She rolled her eyes but kept her retort to herself, not denying the fact that he was right. She let him act as if his hadn't taken in every square inch of her body two days ago while she lounged by the pool in her white bikini. She didn't let him know that she caught him checking her out when she was bent over the hood of her sports car in the tiniest shorts she owned last week as he demanded she dropped everything to make him some new training bots. She let him live in his denial while she tortured him with sexy outfits around the house because that was a power she had over him.
Well, she was about to have even more power over him.
She uncrossed her arms and flicked her blue hair over her shoulder, her teeth biting the edge of her bottom lip as she slowly began her trek around to the other side of the table. The smirk instantly fell of his face as his eyes followed her and she didn't miss the way the trailed down to her tight mini skirt that left little to the imagination. She knew how much he loved that red skirt. It was the one item of clothing that always caught his attention, no matter what time of day or what mood he was in.
"You know, Vegeta," she said casually, rounding the corner of the rectangular kitchen table that no longer separated the two. He moved his feet so he was facing her, arms crossing over his chest again in a stance she instantly recognized was defensive. She came to a stop in front of him, her chest an inch away from his forearm and she saw the struggle in his eyes not to look down.
"I really hate it when you call me an idiot," she said quietly and leaned forward, plump pink lips inches from his own.
He froze completely, not even a puff of air left his body when she pressed against him. Her lips caressed his, her tongue peeking out to swipe at his bottom lip. She could feel his arms slip down as her full breasts pressed against his hard chest. His heart was going a mile a minute and heat flooded his skin.
Bet he doesn't even break this much of a sweat when he's training.
She pulled back, a thin line of saliva breaking between them and she promptly turned on her heel, swaying her ass for his eyes to follow and it was possibly the first time she had said anything without him saying something back. The usual mean comment or annoyed grunt didn't chase after her as she left the kitchen and headed for her room.
Instead, the sound of heavy footsteps trailed behind her, up the stairs and all the way to her king size bed.
She turned and sat, her arms behind her as she leaned back and crossed her tan legs with a deadly smirk on her face.
Bulma Briefs was a fucking genius.