The door shut firmly behind Bulma. Her back against it, she fished for the lock, clicking it closed while Vegeta grazed over her body with his eyes.

Inside the room it was dark. Two black leather couches sat in the center of the room around a glass coffee table. The same red mood lighting that lined the hallway was in here too, making this seem more like a private lounge than a meeting space. Outside the window were glimmering dots of the city below, a beautiful display of twinkling yellow lights.

Vegeta was known to have super speed, but when he was walking up to her, her back still pressed against the door, he walked slowly and with purpose. Every step forward he took Bulma's heart rattled against her chest. His eyes pressed into her, examining every scrap of flesh and every detail of her heavenly body. Control was something Vegeta had in spades when it came to being a tactician. As a lover, he could hardly contain himself.

Vegeta had her pressed up against the door, his mouth on hers and his hands fishing for her zipper. Usually he didn't mind ripping whatever she was wearing to shreds, but this dress was just too beautiful and he didn't want her walking out there stark naked. Only he was allowed to see her like that. Each click of it sent a shiver down Bulma's body, so much so she was desperate to kick it off.

Once it was undone, she shimmied it down her body, her lips never leaving his as she moaned into his mouth. With her dress pooled at her feet, Vegeta broke away from her and inspected her, delightfully surprised that she was wearing no underwear.

"Mighty brave of you to go bare," he growled before leaning in and biting her earlobe. "Were you hoping you might find yourself in this position?"

"What if I was?" She looked at him and gave a seductive smile.

"I was trying to be on my best manners tonight, woman." He nipped at her jaw and then her neck. His hand snaked around her waist and pressed her into him. "You're trying to tempt me."

"You looked so good in that suit I didn't know what else to do." She arched into him. "Feel me. I'm already wet."

His free hand slid along her slit, feeling her warmth. Sticky and sweet, he wanted to devour her whole. His cock hardened.

"You filthy woman." Vegeta purred into her skin. "And what are we going to do about that?"

Bulma wrapped her hands around his neck, bringing his face to hers. His eyes were heady and full of desire, but also full of something else. There was a softness there, a fondness she had come to recognize. She wanted him to consume her, to fuck her so hard she was reduced to a puddle of limbs.

"I need you inside of me." Her gaze was so intense. "And I don't want you to be gentle."

He pressed her against the door and she wrapped her legs around him. Hastily, he unzipped his pants and pulled out his rock hard cock, pressing it to her warmth. In one quick stroke, he was inside of her, slamming her against the door and she quaked in pleasure. He took one hand and clasped it to her wrists, holding her arms up above her so she was pinned.

Each thrust she let out a feral moan. His grip tightened and she writhed against the door, the smooth wood cold in comparison to the fire blooming across her skin.

But he wanted her closer. He needed her closer. Having her like this was simply not enough, he wanted to drink her like a fine wine. He slid out of her and he dropped her arms, taking his two hands to her hips and turning her around so she faced the door. She turned without protest. As her cheek dug into the wood, she wobbled on her two feet and braced herself for more. From behind, he entered her, his hands digging into her hips as she steadied herself.

"Vegeta," she cried. "Oh, please, don't stop."

In her periphery, she could see his face twist with extreme pleasure. He grabbed a handful of her silky hair, combed to perfection, and gently pulled, hard enough where Bulma felt the tinge of pain that throbbed into a cord of pleasure. Her breasts were smashed against the door and her nipples rubbed raw up and down. So much feeling–both good and bad–all of which made her ache with want.

It had never been like this before. It was a pure mix of lust and fury, passion so unbridled it fueled an entirely different feeling. Having him inside of her and grabbing her like this was not just pleasurable in the sexual sense, it seemed predestined, as if she had been waiting for him all her life to fuck her and love her and keep her safe.

She felt her orgasm start to build. Sliding a hand down, she rubbed her aching clit.

"Harder," she begged. "Fuck me harder!"

He did, slapping skin against skin. Shifting her hips up, he continued his relentless assault to fill her completely. She felt so warm and wonderful, as if she was made just for him. Only she could satiate this growing hunger inside. As his manhood reached the hilt, he let out a low groan.

He felt her tighten and knew she was close to orgasm, and the moment she let go, so did he. He shuddered as he released, his hand dropping her hair and trailing gently down her back. Coming in Bulma had always been wonderful, but lately it seemed so much more symbolic. They were intertwined physically and he felt closer to her emotionally with each passing day. Despite the roughness of her sex, he felt the strong desire to hold her in his arms.

Gently, he helped her stand. Her chest was falling up and down and she steadied herself against the door. From behind, he gently wrapped his hands around her body and deeply inhaled the scent of her hair. Why did she always smell like sugar? No matter the time of day, no matter what she had been doing before, every time he got the chance to smell her it was sweet, sweet bliss. Between them he felt his cock get hard again.

"I hope I didn't hurt you," his fingers roved to her clit. "I tried to be gentle."

He stroked her and she relaxed into his embrace, her back pressing into his core. Rarely did Vegeta cradle her like this. How could a man so capable of violence and destruction be so delicate? It was beautiful and sweet. He moved his other hand to her breast and teased her nipple.

"If you don't stop, we're going to have to do it again," she whispered.

"I want to do it again." His teeth grazed her earlobe, sending shivers down her spine. "I want to do it again and again and again."

Her clit throbbed between his fingers. A soft moan escaped from her parted lips and she felt her knees nearly buckle. In his hands, she was liquid. Quickly, he caught her and in one single swoop she was being carried by him. They stood there for a moment and looked into one another's eyes.

Bulma's heart raced. This was the moment. She had to tell him how she really felt about him. This feeling between them was just too strong, too magnetic to not be something more. When she was with him, it was like the entire world around her stopped.

He broke their gaze and walked toward the couch. He laid her down on it before getting to the floor. On his knees, he touched her leg and guided it toward him. It didn't matter that he had seen her center before, whenever he got the chance to take her body in wholly and completely, it sent a thrill through him that was better than any conquest he'd done in space.

He ran his palms over her thighs, her skin so soft and smooth. Placing a kiss to her leg, his face grew dangerously serious. Bulma let out a little laugh.

"You can relax, Vegeta." Bulma blushed. "It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

"It's not that," he said quietly.

Her breath stilled. "Then, what is it?"

At first, he hesitated. The words were caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted to taste her, to make her scream his name over and over; to tell her that every waking hour of every day he was consumed by her. All of these confessions were eating him alive, making it difficult to do anything but ravage her day in and day out.

"I kneel for no one," he said as he parted her legs. "Except for you."

Gripping her hips forward, he brought her center toward him. His thumb found her apex and made circles, and he looked up to watch her face. God, she wanted him so badly. Every nerve in her body was radiating heat and electricity. If she didn't have him right then, right there, she–

"Bulma?" A muffled female voice came from outside the door. "Bulma are you in here?"

"Uh, yes!" Bulma shifted back on the couch, closing her legs. Instinctively she covered herself, now too aware of her nakedness. And then she cast this look to Vegeta, as if she was ashamed to be in front of him. Was the thought of someone seeing them so awful? Vegeta frowned.

"It's almost time for your speech." Vegeta tried to place the voice, but couldn't. "Your dad sent me to come find you."

The doorknob jiggled. Bulma took a deep breath and watched as Vegeta stared. The whole situation seemed to have gotten out of hand, and Bulma attempted to shield herself from the embarrassment of being caught having sex at a work event. She wanted to continue this tryst more than she knew how to put into words, but the optics were wildly inappropriate.

And, not to mention, there were droves of people most likely waiting to hear their fearless leader speak about a project that nearly consumed her. She had to be at the party mingling, not stark naked having the most incredible sex of her life. What would her father say to her if he heard about her behavior?

"Okay," Bulma stammered, sweeping her legs bashfully aside and quickly getting off the couch. Part of her felt gutted leaving Vegeta on the floor like that, so gutted in fact she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"Are you okay in there?" The woman asked again. "The door is locked."

"I just needed to refresh myself," Bulma said quickly, swiping her dress for the floor and frantically putting it back on. She still couldn't bring herself to look at Vegeta, who had moved from the floor and was now standing, staring out the window. "I'll be out in a second!'

"Okay…but better make it quick."

Bulma zipped up her dress and looked into a mirror hanging on the back wall. In her handbag, she felt around for a tube of lipstick and reapplied it hastily. She didn't look bad but she definitely looked ravaged, which wasn't what she was trying to go for when speaking in front of her entire company. Slicking back her hair with her hand the best she could, she finally turned to Vegeta.

Watching her sheepishly put on her clothes, covering herself so quickly took all the wind out of his sails. She acted as if she didn't want to be there, that she was embarrassed by him. It made him so incredibly mad.

He tried to reason with himself: This was not a reflection of him. They were interrupted and she felt their behavior was inappropriate. Despite it, though, he couldn't help but feel crippling disappointment that she had been so quick to leave him like that. As soon as the woman knocked on the door, Bulma scurried away like a cat. Maybe she didn't feel the same way about him as he did about her.

"Vegeta, I'm sorry," she said softly. "But I have to go."

"I understand." He said with no emotion.

She swallowed hard. "And…another thing."

What she was about to say would hurt. If anyone saw them coming out of the room together–looking like this–there was no denying what occurred. Everything about her looked like sex, including the feeling of his cum slicked between her legs. It wasn't that she was embarrassed to be seen with Vegeta–quite the contrary–she just didn't want everyone whispering about their chief scientist fucking her date while she tried to give her speech.

"When I leave, do you think you can wait, like, 10 minutes to follow?"

It registered what she was asking. Vegeta was a man full of pride, one who others bent their will for. If anything, it was an honor where he came from that he chose to have sex with her. And now she was telling him to purposefully stay behind, to live like some secret. His jaw tightened: She didn't want to be seen with him.

After all of the feelings he let himself indulge with–after admitting to himself that he loved her–this is how she repaid him. She wanted him to be hidden. She didn't love him like he loved her. She just wanted him to fuck.

"Fine." He was short and terse.

"It's just that–"

"I said fine, woman."

She took a deep breath, nodded her head and headed toward the door.


Bulma had been in the ballroom all of two minutes when her father approached her. He looked jostled but lit up as he came closer. Following close behind was an all too familiar face, one she did not anticipate to see tonight.

"Bulma! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

Yamcha. Of all the times she had begged to see him, of the nights she just wished and prayed that he would show up, it had to be the one moment where his presence was not only not necessary, but downright unwanted. He beamed as he got closer. Yamcha was definitely handsome. Despite it, she couldn't find the incredible allure she felt when looking at Vegeta's face.

"We've been looking for you everywhere," her father chimed in. "Where did you go off to?"

"I…wasn't feeling so great," she lied. "I was lying down for a moment."

"Are you alright, my dear?" Her father's face twisted in concern. "Not sick, are you?"

"No!" Bulma faked a smile. Her stomach flip-flopped and blood rushed to her face. "Just a little hot."

"I'd say," Yamcha grinned from ear to ear. Bulma went slack jawed. Her father took that as his cue to leave.

"Speech is on in 15 minutes," he winked at Bulma. "Don't be late."

He sauntered off into the crowd of people and Bulma desperately wanted him to turn around. If her father was here, he might be able to stop all this. She looked up at Yamcha, who was flashing big, doe-eyed glances her way.

"You look so beautiful, B." He grabbed her hands. It made her skin crawl. "Honestly, I've never seen you look this…this…"

"Spare me, okay," she frowned. "What are you doing here? I don't recall you being on the guest list."

"Bulma, here's the truth." His jaw clenched. "Cheating on you with that…with that woman, it was the dumbest thing I've ever done in my life. These past few months without you have really got me thinking that we should try and work it out."

Bulma shook her head. It had been months since she had spoken to him, and since starting her arrangement with Vegeta, Yamcha was the farthest thing in her mind. Yes, she loved Yamcha deeply when they were together, but the fact of the matter was that he cheated on her–repeatedly–and when asked to stop, he failed over and over again.

Her last straw was when she found out he took a girl out on their anniversary. Some things were too inexcusable to put up with. She confronted him then, promising him that they were never getting back together, not after all the pain he had caused. Deep down she knew Yamcha was a good person, and that maybe one day she could forgive his transgressions, but it was the final bit of water dousing an already dying flame.

"Yamcha, I think it's nice to hear you say that, but you and I–"

"Bulma, it's been tearing me apart." He gazed into her eyes, pleading with her to reconsider. "I'd do anything to take you back."

He jolted forward, pressing his lips onto hers. They were cold and dry, their touch eliciting more discomfort than passion. For a moment, she considered this feeling. Once, a long, long time ago, Yamcha had kissed her and it felt like her whole world had been turned upside down. Now, she felt absolutely nothing.

Her first love was so far in the rearview mirror. There was something else that wholly consumed her now, someone she had left behind upstairs by himself. Someone who she loved so desperately. Where was he now? What was he thinking?

She stepped back from Yamcha, placing her hand on his chest and pressing him away. A look of confusion crossed his face, and then hurt, when he realized he was being rejected.

"Yamcha, I will always love you as a person," she said softly. "But I don't love you like that anymore."

His eyes grazed the floor as he processed her words, and she could see the hurt ebbing through him. It hurt her in a way that she knew what she had done was right.

"Please, understand that I am saying this with the utmost kindness." She offered a sympathetic smile. "We're never going to get back together, okay?"

She turned and walked away from him, heading back upstairs to run to Vegeta and tell him what she had known for a while. Even if he didn't feel the same–even if he mocked her for her bleeding heart–she wanted to tell him that she loved him. As soon as she got to the staircase, her father intercepted.

"Where are you going?" He cocked his head. "You need to give that speech."

"I've got something more important to do right now." She moved to the side and was met with her father's quizzical look.

"What is more important than this?"

Bulma looked up the stairs. What was more important than a product launch or a party was the man who made her body ache with pleasure and made her heart skip a beat when he was near her. Then, it dawned on her. Vegeta would have–should have–come down by now. Either he was hiding from her upstairs, which seemed unlikely, or he had already made his way into the crowd.

"Have you seen Vegeta?" She asked. Her father raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Why, he left just a few moments ago." He grabbed his chin. "Said something about 'getting the hell out of here.' An ornery man, that Vegeta."

Dread sank in the pit of Bulma's stomach. He left? Was it because she had abandoned him? Or was it because he had seen her with Yamcha? She swallowed hard. Please, she prayed. Please tell me he didn't see that.

At the stage, a spotlight came on and a man came to the podium. It was a board member. He smiled ear to ear as a retractable screen lit up, revealing a picture of Bulma and her father holding up the chip. A roar of applause came from the audience, and Bulma swore she heard someone say her name, but her mind was in a deep, deep fog.

At her father's insistence, she made her way to the stage, stood at the podium, stared into the blinding light and gave a half-hearted speech, holding in tears the entire time.