Disclaimer: Though I love and worship DBZ, I do not own it, nor any of its characters. So please don't sue me. I'm broke, anyway.
Cruel Games
Chapter 4
There was a storm later on that night, and Bulma slept restlessly. She fought with clinging sheets as well as disturbing dreams. One in particular frightened her; a dark silhouette against the flapping curtains of her open window, lightning backlighting the scene in a flash of light. Silent and still, the silhouette made no move towards her, yet she could feel the heat of desire it radiated, and could feel her own reaction. Bulma couldn't tell how long the figure was there, it could have been only a moment or several minutes.
She knew this had to be a dream, though, because she woke to find the window closed, as she had left it the night before.
She woke around 9:30, still tired but unable to sleep anymore. She decided against another cold shower (and she needed one) as it was too early. She wandered down to the kitchen and finding it empty, began to make something to eat. She was getting the eggs out of the fridge when a loud explosion rocked Capsule Corp., causing her to drop them.
Immediately she knew where the blast had come from. Letting the mess lie for the cleaning bots, she ran to the GR room, stopping at its smoking door. Frantically she punched in the override codes in the side panel, and the door slowly scrapped open.
Vegeta had been training all night; If you could call it that. After succumbing to his curiosity last night, he had gone to her window, not exactly acting on any plan. He wanted to just look though the window at her sleeping form, but found himself standing on her balcony, the window too easily opened.
His thought swirled in his head like a whirlpool, making no sense. He saw her, sprawled out on her bed, writhing with some inner battle. He wished to rip the sheets from her body, exposing her delicious form. Kami, he wanted to! Still, he remained at the window, watching...
She moaned softly, the sheets moving just enough to show one long and slender leg, and part of a creamy thigh.
Enough!
He turned to leave, just as he heard her sighing, still locked in her dream
"Vegeta..."
He had to leave. Now.
With barley enough presence of mind to close the window after him, he flew to the other side of the building, and entered the GR room. What ensued was a fierce battle that represented the battle within himself, where he pushed himself to the limit and beyond.
He had no mercy, and only wished to relive the incredible amount of tension he was feeling, setting his whole person on fire.
The battle raged until the storm abated and the sun rose, shining outside, unnoticed by Vegeta.
After hours of seeming punishment and physical torment, he still had the nearly uncontrollable need to go back to the woman's room and claim her.
The thought of that creamy white skin heated with desire to match his own and pressed against his as they were just a day or two ago drove him over the edge.
Vegeta summoned all his chi into a molten ball hovering between his hands, the sexual tension inside him turning it a fiery red. Holding it precariously between his hands, Vegeta sought to blast himself with the dangerous energy, hoping for unconsciousness if nothing else. The energy proved too unstable, and he lost his hold on it, and it immediately flew to the nearest wall, where it caused as much destruction as it could.
Though he was not harmed, he was stunned, and Vegeta was laying among the rubble as Bulma came running through the door.
She held her breath as she searched for him, memories of doing so after his last accident flooded her mind, making her fearful she might find him in worse shape this time.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted him, partially covered by debris. He looked whole, though battered from a night of intense training. Bulma carefully cleared the pieces of metal and computer compartments off the unconscious sayain, who had inadvertently gotten his wish, and tried to wake him, to no effect. She ordered up a portable float-stretcher from a voice activated panel outside in the hall, and a service bot promptly brought it. Bulma thought briefly of calling someone to help, but pushed that notion out of her mind. No, she would take care of this herself, and maybe get back at the now helpless sayian while she had the chance.
She lowered the stretcher onto the floor and rolled Vegeta onto it; no easy task, as he was quite heavy. Bulma then proceeded to push the gliding stretcher to her bedroom, and then into her bathroom. She would have gone to his quarters, but her bathroom was the only one big enough to comfortably accommodate the stretcher with plenty of room to spare.
After maneuvering the stretcher in front of the shower, she looked down at the sleeping sayain and curled her lips into a smirk so like his own.
She then pulled of his clothes, first his boots, then his gloves. Bulma realized this was a rare opportunity to explore Vegeta's body, and blushed.
Get your mind out of the gutter, girl, She thought to herself. He was in control last time and now it's your turn
Even so, he was unconscious, and so unable to observe her if she became,... well, he can't see me anyway.
As she took off his gloves she marveled at the softness of his hands, where she expected them to be rough and callous. Her examination ran along his arms to his broad chest, rippled with muscles. Her fingertips lightly brushed down until they where resting at the top of his shorts. Don't chicken out on me now Bulma,
It took some maneuvering to get those off, and she was mortified he would awaken at this point and discover her. She had purposely averted her eyes until she had finished, lest she lose her nerve. Now she looked upon him, in all his naked glory. A deep blush began to warm her, spreading down her neck all the way to her shoulders.
Are all sayains...Like this...?
Bulma swallowed hard, wondering if that were true, why Chi Chi had never mentioned Goku being exceptionally endowed. Maybe sayians were like humans, and Bulma was just lucky. Very lucky.
Lucky?! What are you thinking?! Stop eyeing him like a piece of meat! He isn't like some guy you can just...Bulma's thoughts trialed off as Vegeta shifted in his sleep, and Bulma knew her time was running out.
Bulma lowered the stretcher once more to the floor, this time to deposit him on the bathroom tile. Vegeta groaned once when she turned the water on over him, adjusting the temperature. For the coup de grace, Bulma took one of her scented body wash bottles (Guava and melon, her favorite) and poured a good heaping amount all along Vegeta's prone body. The perfume like aroma wafted up to her nose, and she giggled.
When he wakes up, he'll be smelling better than a sayain prince has any right to be.
Which would be soon, if his constant shifting was any indication. Bulma left the bathroom to go cook her interrupted breakfast, wearing her own version of the smuggest possible smile she could muster. (Which is saying an awful lot)