Bulma sat on the porch to the large farmhouse, sipping her sweet strawberry tea. She had just finished her morning chores around the house and was taking a break before tending to the horses. It had been ages since she had been able to just take a breath and enjoy her life. Gratefulness, swept over her as she looked across her parent's farm, the lush green land spreading vastly in every direction.

Her father was one of the top farmers and providers of goods for West City. Nothing compared to the quality of products that came from Brief's Farm. As a result of such fame, there was much to do on the farm. Gardening, tending to the livestock, maintaining the orchard, and the overall upkeep of the estate were among the responsibilities she had to help with. She was busy from sun up to sun down, and then some. There were very few occasions she could take time to herself like she was right now. That was, until the new farmhand started working for them.

You see, her father prided himself in starting his business from a small grove of apple trees when he was young. He worked painstakingly hard and expanded to become the farming mogul that he was today. Because of that pride, he believed in keeping the work in the family. Every one of them worked hard, her mother, father, and herself, but most of the responsibilities fell on Bulma, now that she was older. Especially, since her parents were usually away on business. It took a great deal of convincing from Bulma to get her father to see how beneficial it would be to the overall productivity of the business to hire some help.

Once he finally agreed, it took a while for someone to answer their ad. Bulma waited anxiously for a phone call for a week and was beginning to give up hope, until one morning, there was a knock at the door. She was taken off guard by the sight of the young man standing on her porch.

He appeared to be around her age and was about as tall as she was, but what he lacked in height he more than made up for in physique. The first thing she noticed were the young man's biceps. His muscular arms were nicely displayed in the tight black t-shirt he was wearing. The rest of him seemed well-built too.

Quickly, Bulma finished her ocular assessment of the stranger in front of her, not entirely sure how long she had been silently staring. Bulma felt her heart jump when her blue eyes met his dark ones. His gaze was narrowed as he spoke. "This says you're looking for help?" He unfolded a piece of paper, displaying the ad they had placed in town. "Is this still accurate?"

"Uh, yes!" she stumbled, gathering her thoughts. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Vegeta."

"Bulma." She smiled pleasantly. He only grunted. "So, have you done any farm work before?"

"No. But, I do hard labor just fine."

Just fine indeed. Bulma shamelessly thought to herself, running her eyes over him once again. His sinfully tight shirt was mocking her. She was dying to see beneath it. Unfortunately, the sound of Vegeta's voice brought her back to reality.

"I worked down in the lumber yard if you need a reference." Bulma could hear suspicion in his words. Shit. He definitely noticed she had been ogling him.

"Well, as long as you prove to be a hard worker, I'm sure we'll be just fine."

Swigging down the last bit of tea, Bulma headed towards the barn to groom her horses. Just as she knew he would be, Vegeta was in the barn, cleaning out the stalls. Over the past few weeks, Vegeta had more than proven that he was a reliable worker. So reliable, that he had developed a routine you could set your watch to.

"Afternoon Vegeta." Bulma said, her words coming out like silk across his skin.

"Ma'am."

"I told you, you can call me Bulma."

Vegeta kept to his work, as she led the first horse to the hitching post right outside the opened barn doors. Bulma busied herself with cleaning the horses. She had to, since Vegeta was working shirtless…again. Boy, were her suspicions confirmed about his physique. It was as if he was sculpted by the most talented artist, who paid great attention to every inch of his form. That tanned, muscular body served as his resume, displaying all the discipline and physical labor he had put into his work.

From the corner of her eye, Bulma watched as Vegeta threw bales of hay onto the ground from the tractor's wagon. His muscles were glistening in the hot summer sunlight. She felt a surge of lust course through her entire body, culminating between her legs. An insatiable hunger consumed her, and she had to do something about it. Kami have mercy upon her, for she didn't know how much more of this spectacle she could take. Her core was wet, and it wasn't from washing the horses. She was going to need a great deal of alone time to overcome her thirst.

If she didn't know any better, Bulma thought he was putting on a show for her. One moment he was cleaning out the stalls, and the next, he was within eyesight, huffing and grunting. And every so often, for a nanosecond, their eyes would meet. Her constitution was chipping away with every electrifying glance.

It didn't help that he had occupied her thoughts every second since the day he showed up on her porch. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't entertained the notion of her hands running over every inch of his chiseled torso. Her mind was clouding, unsavory images of the two of them together making their way to the forefront.

She had to go do something else, to distract herself from her own imagination. The mid-summer afternoon was sweltering. Add that to her growing arousal, Bulma felt like she was on fire. She needed some reprieve, or she would surely burst into flames. In a desperate attempt to quell the madness, Bulma sprayed the hose into the air, allowing the blessed cool drops to mist over her. For a moment, she just stood there, relishing in relief.

OK. Now maybe she could finish her work in the barn.

Kami, she looked delicious. In her ungodly short shorts and that absurdly small scrap of fabric wrapped around her chest. That was no attire for farm work. Was she trying to entice him? Damn her, it was working.

Vegeta needed to expel the lust that was rising within him with physical labor. He was good at that, deflecting. Instead of cleaning out the rest of the stalls, he decided to take the hay bales he had collected earlier this morning off the wagon. With the lob of each bale, he mentally attached pieces of her to them, symbolically tossing her out of his thoughts. No matter how much energy he expended, though, she would be right back in his mind whenever his eyes connected with hers.

It wasn't just her outfit today that was driving him mad. Since she had opened the door the day he was hired, Vegeta was drawn to her. Enchanted by her. Those big blue eyed were spellbinding. And her vivid cerulean locks were so unconventional. It turned him on. The way she carried herself, good Kami, she was a firecracker. He pretended not to have any interest in her banter, trying to come off indifferent or annoyed, but the fact of the matter was, it drove him wild. He craved it.

Even when he had left the farm for the night, Vegeta couldn't shake her. Bulma consumed his thoughts, each one more wicked than the last. He wanted to corrupt her, hear her moans of pleasure at the mercy of his touch. Run his hands over her soft, milky skin. More than anything, he wanted to feel himself inside of her.

Stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow, Vegeta looked to where his blue haired temptress was working. Gone were the horses, happily getting groomed by their owner. There she stood, alone, with the hose in her hand. What Vegeta witnessed next sent him spiraling further into his desire.

He couldn't look away. His eyes were fixated on her and only her. There was a spray of sparkling vapor. As it cascaded over her ethereal body, he envied every single droplet of water. She was unreal. It was as if he was living out a wet dream.

"Fuck." He exhaled quietly.

Vegeta stormed into the barn to find Bulma exiting one of the horse's stalls with a bag in her hand.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled.

"Giving my babies a treat for cooperating while I groomed them." she smiled sweetly.

"What's that?" he nodded his head towards her hand.

"Carrots. Want one?" Bulma jokingly offered, holding the bag in his direction.

"I hate carrots." Vegeta sneered, then stomped past her.

Bulma was shocked at his outburst. Where was this aggression coming from? Vegeta was normally so stoic and didn't seem to care about her ribbing, or what she did around the farm for that matter. "What, have you been morally wronged by carrots before?" She teased, playfully bumping her hip into his as she passed by.

This pent-up sexual tension was driving him mad. Vegeta knew he wouldn't be able to finish the rest of his work until he fucked her, especially not after witnessing that sultry display with the hose. He grabbed Bulma by the crook of her arm, spinning her around so she was against the wall and slammed his hand on the barn's wall, inches form her head. She looked at him wide eyed, her breathing escalating. The bag she once held, dropped on the ground in her surprise.

"Woman," He growled through gritted teeth. "I can't take it anymore." His breathing was quick as he exhaled through his nose. Their chests were millimeters from touching. "Don't think you can get away with teasing me all damn day and have nothing come of it."

What once was shock, now turned to desire, noticing the hunger across his face. On some level, maybe she was teasing him. She had wondered briefly while getting dressed what he would think of her outfit. If it would arouse him. And she knew Vegeta would be in the barn at the time she chose to tend to her horses. Perhaps, subconsciously, she was begging for him to fuck her. It's not like she hadn't thought about it at least once.

Bulma ached for him to pin her to the wall. She looked at him with a dangerous fire in her eyes that called to him, daring him to push the limits of what they were. Employer and employee. The farmhand and the farmer's daughter.

"Vegeta." she whispered, barely audible. If he were any further away, he would have missed it. But he heard it. He definitely heard it, and it opened the floodgates of his resolve, washing it far, far away.

**Censored for 's guidelines. Full version can be found on Archive of Our Own**

Bulma's eyes leisurely fluttered open to meet his. She looked through her feathery eyelashes at him, the glow of sex evident in her face. "Wow." She breathed, a sweet smile playing on her lips.

Vegeta only chuckled, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'd say you just added another chore to your list of duties around here after that, farmhand." Bulma teased as she put herself back together.

Vegeta zipped up his dark jeans, then looked at her. "Gladly."