Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Beginning of Trouble

Like any other boy, Bulma knew, what he wanted was sex. The only problem was that, this time, it was a competition, and nothing less. If she gave him what he so desired of her, then she would lose. She wasn't sure exactly how to win, but she was going to do it nonetheless. Vegeta was going down.

"Get out of my room, Vegeta," Bulma growled, "and take your damned candles with you. What are you playing at anyway? Is this your way of showing me that you have more power? By annoying me to death?"

"The fact that you're playing along only proves that you know exactly what I'm doing, woman," he replied with a smirk. Bulma couldn't believe him.

"I really have no clue what you're trying to say. Why don't you just spit it out already so you can go away?" she asked headedly. "You make me walk home in the cold and when I get here after freezing my ass off, you're up in my room, practically begging for me to forgive you and give you whatever you want, which I can only guess is sex. You are the most predictable person I've ever met. I used to think that you were one of a kind, but I guess I was wrong. You're just as annoying and stupid as everybody else!"

"Well, excuse me, little Miss I'm-So-Perfect. I'd completely forgotten that you're so touchy."

"Touchy?! Vegeta, you drove off without me on an autumn night. It's below forty degrees outside. I can barely feel my toes and my fingers feel like they are going to fall off. I'm not just going to laugh like it was some joke, because I didn't think it was very funny. And all this…"

"All what, woman?" he snarled. Apparently having her reprimand him put him in a bad mood, even if what he did was wrong and he knew it.

"What do you want me to say about what you're doing right now? Personally, I'm quite disgusted with you. You can't say you have more power over me, and then prove it like this. This doesn't prove anything, and you've made me upset. Therefore, I want you to leave. Go downstairs and take your stupid candles with you, like I told you before. And do it quickly, before I get angry, Vegeta."

He didn't budge.

"What do you want from me?!" Bulma snapped. "I don't want to talk to you anymore."

"Same to you," he muttered, sitting up and relaxing against the back of the bedframe.

"Then why the hell are you still here? Go back to your couch on the bottom floor before I kick you out of my house altogether," she said angrily, glaring chaos at him, proving that she rightfully blamed him for everything that had gone wrong over the past hour or so. Looking at the arrogant jerk's mug was only making her angrier. She wanted to scream, but she held her tongue.

Vegeta rolled off the bed and headed for the stairs. Bulma threw her gaze down to the carpet as he walked by, his woodsy musk and personal scent mixture floating in the air around her face. She shut her eyes until she didn't hear his footsteps on the stairs anymore. She looked up and let out a held breath. She turned around and shut her door slowly, quietly. He hadn't taken the damned candles with him, so Bulma flicked her light switch on and blew out the tiny flames. She placed them in the bathroom to cool off and then went back to her bedroom, shutting the door quickly this time. She traded the big light with her lamp on her nightstand, changing into her pajamas and getting into bed.

She wondered what happened to their power game in such a short amount of time. But Vegeta had to know that you don't just leave a girl to walk home in the freezing cold weather. He had to know that she would be pissed if he did that to her. Maybe something was wrong with him. What could have been going through his head?

She thought about the near future. Tomorrow was Monday, so she would have to deal with the crowd. What would happen now that Vegeta's secret had been revealed. This whole time, it felt like nothing was wrong, but Bulma lived in a little secluded place with her secluded friends. She didn't know about the outside world just yet. The entire world might already know about the Saiyans and she wouldn't have a clue about it.

Her cell phone rang from downstairs, in her purse, but she didn't bother to go and get it. She curled up under the covers at the second ring and wondered who could be calling at a time like this. She glanced over at the clock on her nightstand and almost laughed. It wasn't even eight-thirty yet and she was already in bed. She hadn't even showered or brushed her teeth and already she was falling asleep. She shivered and shoved her frozen hands under her armpits for warmth.

When her cell stopped ringing in the middle of the fifth ring, she growled to herself. Her phone always stopped directly after the sixth ring, so she could only guess that Vegeta had picked it up. Maybe it was Chichi, asking if she had made it home safely yet. Or maybe it was Goku, asking if she wanted him to kill Vegeta for her. She mentally replied with a severe nod.

She perked her ears up to try and listen to what Vegeta was saying, but his voice was too low for her to even begin to try and hear the actual conversation.

A couple minutes later, she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She flipped over, placing her back to the doorway and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep. She listened to her door open, and the footsteps get closer to her bed until she could feel his presence on her back. She could feel his eyes on the back of her head as well.

"Your parents are coming here," he said simply.

Bulma instantly flipped over, forgetting about her sleeping act. He probably knew she wasn't asleep anyway, so it didn't really matter. "What!?"

"Apparently, they don't like the idea of me being here while you're asleep, so they'll be here tomorrow afternoon, probably before you get back from school."

"That was my mother, on the phone?" she asked.

"Your male parent, actually."

"That was my dad? Vegeta, why would you pick up the phone if it said it was my dad calling? Don't you know anything about people after living here for however many years?"

"People? Woman, I am a person," he replied with a smirk. "And I know that male parents are unnaturally protective of female offspring, but what do I have to fear? You are my mate and I am stronger than a simple forty year-old Earthling male." He paused, but then added, "I also know that, generally, the male Earthling mate assumes the protective role of the male parent. It's almost like the male parent passes on the role of a guardian for the female. I find it interesting, so I wanted to tell your father that I would be taking on that role." He was being sarcastic, but Bulma knew that smirk on his face. That evil smirk that old her that he wasn't giving away everything that he knew.

"What did you say to my father, Vegeta?" Bulma warned.

"Nothing really. He asked who I was and where you were, so I told him who I was and that you were going to bed. Then he asked if I was the boy from the news, and I told him that "boy" wasn't the proper description, so it couldn't have been me—"

"Vegeta! Wait a second, what did you tell him when he asked who you were? You didn't really tell him…"

"I told him that I'm Vegeta Ouji, prince of the Saiyan race on Planet Vegeta."

"My god! My dad thinks that I have a flying nutcase in my house. No wonder he's rushing all the way down here. Please tell me my mother isn't coming with him."

Vegeta shrugged. "I don't know, woman. What do you want from me?"

"What else did he ask?"

"Well, I guess he just assumed that I had to be the "boy" that he had seen on the television, so I didn't argue against his own stupid thoughts out of not wanting to obtain any form of brain damage. Other than that, he threatened me not to touch you and to be long gone by the time he arrived. And then he hung up. I didn't have much time to reply to anything he said." He shrugged again.

The house phone rang and Bulma grabbed the one on her nightstand, quickly pressing it to her ear and hitting the call button.

"Dad? Dad, don't hang up! Everything's fine, I promise," she said quickly.

"Bulma, who's that man with you? Why did he pick up your cell phone? Where were you? What is he doing in your house? Has he touched you?"

"Dad, please," Bulma said, flipping Vegeta the bird when he chuckled and mouthed "touched?" like it was the funniest word in the world. "Vegeta was just leaving," she said, earning herself a skeptical look from her dream boy, as if to tell her that he wasn't going anywhere. "I was getting ready for bed and I left my phone downstairs, so he picked it up for me."

"Who is he? Bulma, who is that man?" he father shouted into the phone.

"He's just a friend from school. I told you, he's just leaving. He drove me home and—"

"He drove you home?! Bulma, then why is he in your house? Put him on the phone! You'd better put him on right now, Bulma Briefs! I'll have a word or two with you when I get there!"

"No, Dad. You don't have to come. Really, everything's fine. There's nothing wrong."

"Ha! I'll believe that when I see it! You haven't gotten into any relationships with this boy, have you, Bulma? You haven't let him touch you, right Bulma? Don't let him—"

Bulma slammed the phone shut and watched as Vegeta rolled over laughing, leaning against the side of her wall for physical support. Bulma glared at him.

"You're going to give him a heart attack, Vegeta. What were you thinking?"

The house phone rang again and Vegeta snatched it first.

"Vegeta, stop it!"

"Hello?" he said with a smirk, into the mouth of the phone. "Ms. Brief's residence. How may I help you?"

Bulma winced as she listened to her father screaming from the other end of the line.

"It's for you," he chuckled, handing Bulma the phone. She snatched it from him with a glare that could have killed any normal person, and held it away from her ear until the screaming died out.

"Dad, I'm so sorry—"

"Bulma, I want him out. I want him out of your house right now. You tell that bastard to get out of your house and you never let him back in. Do you understand me, young lady? Do you?"

"Yes, Dad. I'll kick him out right now," she replied, earning herself another skeptical look from her dream boy.

"Is he out yet?" her father growled into the phone. "If I'm going to need the shotgun, then you're going to have to let me know, sweetheart. Is he gone yet? Is he out of your house now?"

Vegeta looked down at the carpet and then sat, his legs spread out. Bulma just noticed that he still hadn't put any clothes on, other than his boxers.

"Yeah, Dad. He's gone."

"Good. You mother and I saw you on the news just a few minutes ago, and we saw you get rescued by that boy that could fly! Are you alright? We were so worried about you. We called right away."

"Yeah, Dad. I'm fine. If it wasn't for Vegeta, I wouldn't be alive right now. He saved my life."

"Vegeta? I thought that young man said that he wasn't the one on the news."

"No, no, he was. I think he just got a little offended because you called him a boy. Apparently, he's very touchy about that," she added, tossing him a sarcastic expression. He stretched out on her carpet and closed his eyes, placing his hands behind his head for support as a makeshift pillow. He had no response for her.

"Well… It's better that he's out of your house anyway. You're not even out of high school. The last thing you need is involvement with boys."

"Sure, Dad."

"And what was with the theatrics when you fell?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose that the cops came eventually, right? Why weren't we called? Why didn't you call us, even? And why did that boy, Vegeta did you say? Why did he put on such a big act about it? I mean, everyone knows that people can't fly. Did he just want to impress you? Well, you can tell him that I'll be the one doing the impressing if he ever touches you again."

Vegeta sat up and looked at her, tilting his head to one side a bit.

"Thanks, Dad," Bulma replied, "Well, I guess I'll talk to you later, then?"

"Don't think this means your mother and I aren't still coming down there. We want to make sure you're really all right. And I'm going to make sure that that boy leaves you alone. We'll be there around tomorrow afternoon, okay, sweetheart?"

"But, Dad. I'm fine, really. You don't need to com all the way down here. You have work and business down there. it isn't worth the price in gas alone. Really…"

"Nope. We're coming. We'll see you tomorrow. And don't let that boy back into your house, especially at night. You know what I told you. All boys want at your age is sex, and you have your whole life ahead of you. You can't get knocked u—"

"Dad!"

He laughed on the phone, "I know. I know. We'll see you tomorrow, then. Okay?"

"'Kay. Bye, Dad."

"Bye, sweetheart."

Bulma chucked her phone across the room at the wall. Vegeta quickly caught it and walked over to her, placing it in its rightful place back on the nightstand.

"Way to go," she mumbled to him as he sat down next to her. Instantly, the feeling that it was just the two of them washed over her. They were all alone, with no one there but each other. She wondered if he was thinking the same exact thing.

She shivered, and Vegeta wrapped one arm around her, pulling her head onto his shoulder.

"I thought you were supposed to kick me out, woman," he said, mocking her father. Bulma snorted at him, but was too tired and cold to respond to him stupid comments.

"Do it yourself," she muttered, closing her eyes and burying her whole body into him for warmth.

Vegeta leaned back and brought Bulma with him. Their heads collided with the pillow and Bulma flipped over, pressing her fingertips onto his bare chest. He jumped ever so slightly and Bulma couldn't help but sleepily laugh at him.

"You can't be that tired," he whispered, his cool breath on her ear.

"My father was right. What a surprise," she said.

"Don't make me prove it," he playfully warned. "It's not even nine at night and thinking I won't is a mistake you won't forget for a long time."

Bulma closed her eyes and ignored him, half hoping he would keep his word. And as he flipped over on top of her, she kept her eyes closed and smiled a little. She felt his lips brush hers and his tongue gently swiped over her bottom lip. He chuckled and held her nose closed. When she parted her lips to breath, he slipped his tongue inside, exploring the area.

Bulma slapped his hand away from her nose and hesitantly kissed him back with no more force than a feather floating in the air. But as his hands roamed over her sides and arms and his warmth began to consume her, she pressed her body harder against him. She felt like it was one of those situations where a girl's excuse was that it had been a cold night. Fortunately, she didn't really need an excuse.

She let his warm hands explore her body until her chill was gone and her body was back to its normal temperature. It had taken a good ten minutes of him holding her, but she was no longer cold, so she felt it was worth her stalling any prolonged actions on her part.

Bulma flipped the two of them over and slid down the bed, instantly and insistently tugging on his boxers. He lifted his middle so she could pull them off and toss them to the floor with ease. Urgency calling her name, she took him in her mouth and without warning, raked her tongue up and down his shaft. Vegeta grunted and let out a deep moan at her demanding nature, but didn't make any signs that he didn't like it. In fact, his sudden grunts only told her that he lusted for her and desired more of whatever she was willing to give him.

She continued sucking and licking him until his breathing was loud and irregular. His member was hard and hot, feeling fervent in her mouth. Vegeta insistently moaned in the same time as the fast rhythm of her sucking. She tugged on him, gently massaging him with her teeth. He let out a low cry that pushed Bulma over the edge. She rocked back and forth, gripping his tight legs as she got into the erotic nature of what she was doing to him. She pushed her tongue against him and ran her hands up to his washboard stomach, pushing on him to feel every line of his clenching and unclenching muscles.

Bulma jumped when his palm collided with the back of her head, gently and unsteadily brushing his fingers through her aquamarine hair. His hands shook and Bulma knew that he was holding back his Saiyan strength again so as not to bring harm to her by accident. He let out a shriek like she had never heard from him before as her tongue hit a foreign spot that she instantly recognized as sensitive. She couldn't help but smile as she mentally congratulated herself on her irreplaceable find. It was a chance like no other. She prodded her tongue on his newfound sensitive area, earning herself another shriek. His body began to vibrate, shaking the bed like an underground volcano. And he was the fire, erupting heat at a tremendous rate.

Both his hands gripped the mattress and Bulma heard a loud rip. She didn't bother to look up at what the noise came from, and frankly, she couldn't have cared any less. She just continued massaging his sensitive area with her tongue, sucking on him as he simultaneously panted and cried out.

One of his fists collided with the wall behind his head, shaking the entire room as he let out another loud shriek for her. Bulma lifted her head up, looking into his glazed eyes for a moment before grabbing him again with her left hand.

"You didn't think I would just stop there, did you?" she asked, trying to make herself sound sexy and seductive. She didn't get the chance to see whether or not Vegeta had taken her tone of voice as a joke or not because he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up to kiss her passionately, holding back nothing. She felt like a kitten, the way he held her, as if she was so breakable, so fragile, so easily taken away. His body was still shaking because her grip on him was never parted as he brought her up for a kiss, slipping his tongue around the inside of her mouth insistently. She gave him a little tug and he breathed into her.

"This is exactly what your father told you not to do, woman," Vegeta panted.

Bulma broke their vehement kiss and sat up on the right side of him, letting go of his member. "Way to ruin the moment," she said, frowning at him. But he wasn't paying attention to her words. He looked her up and down and then breathed.

"Your clothes are still on," he said, almost as if he had been expecting otherwise. Bulma couldn't help but let a smile creep its way back up to her lips.

"That's because my father told me not to let you touch me," she said, and then smirked and added, "He said nothing about me not being able to touch you."

Vegeta's breathing sped up without her even having to move a muscle. Bulma liked the control. She wondered if this meant she had the most power. Not caring as much as she thought she would have, she pulled off her shirt and pants, exposing her black panties and pink bra to him. His eyes nearly bulged and his lips parted at the sight of her. This was much better, she thought. This time was nothing like at the hotel, where she had been caught off guard by her dream boy and his long awaited claim of caring for her the way she cared for him. That had been pure bliss. She wanted this to be nothing different.

Leaning down, she grabbed his member with her left hand once again. She listened to Vegeta's breathing as she closed her eyes. She listened as it sped up ever so slightly as she gave him a dainty tug or two. His rigid breaths came heavier and deeper as she worked on him, doing her very best to make sure he was the happiest boy on the planet, and maybe even in the entire universe, at that moment in time. If anything, he was definitely the happiest Saiyan.

She slowly brought her right hand down and positioned her two first fingers near that newfound sensitive spot that she so proudly found on her own. She noticed how his breathing was now anxious as he watched her, knowing the single-minded feeling she was soon going to inflict on him.

When he was good and ready again, even hotter and harder than the last time, if that was even possible, Bulma slowly prodded her fingers against his sensitive area, earning herself a quieter form of that delicious shriek, driving her to give him even more. He involuntarily threw his head back with another, louder shriek. If anyone had heard the zealous cry of the Saiyan Prince, they might have guessed that he was in the most pain of his life, but Bulma knew he was far from it.

She watched the thick muscles in his stomach as they tightened and loosened. His fists clenched and unclenched against the mattress and the recently changed sheets as she pressed harder against him, using all her fingers to move as quickly and efficiently as she could manage, relishing each and every intoxicating sound that exited his mouth.

When she began to slow down, Bulma saw the room spin in a blur as she was tossed up into the air, the only cute underwear she owned was torn to ribbons, and Vegeta literally threw himself on top of her as her back collided with the soft mattress below.

He locked their lips together for a short moment in time before sliding into her, not bothering to use any of his time for anticipation. He just got straight to work, running her body like a machine that had just been refilled with fuel. If anything, Bulma didn't know, but she assumed that his body might have had a little too much fuel. All she knew for sure was that it was going to be a long night.

She guessed it was just pure luck that she wasn't tired anymore…