Music of the Night

Chapter: 9
Subtitle: On the Job
Author: Trixie-chan
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own Dragonball Z.
Author's Note: Okay people, I'm sorry that it took so long! If any of you have read the Twilight series, you would understand... :P I couldn't tear myself away from it to write, and when I tried to force myself... The drive wasn't there to write. I just wanted to read. So since I finished up the last book yesterday on the way home from my brother's baby shower (no, I wasn't driving, my dad was—thought I have seen a crazy person reading while driving... crazy fucker...), I decided to push myself to finally finish the chapter and get it up! I hope it was worth the wait—it's slightly sexy. ;)

Let me know what you guys think. I'm thinking there are a few chapters left after this. Enjoy!

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Bulma rubbed her eyes as she paced her office. She had not slept well the night before—also known as the night of the concert. Frankly, she was too horny to fall asleep most of the night, and when she finally did, one could only guess as to what (or who) she dreamed about. Sleeping seemed to have made her more tired.

She had thrown herself into her work immediately once she had gotten up and walked to the building where her office was. Unfortunately, she threw herself too into her tasks and projects; she ran out of things to do far too quickly. She had put a lecture that she had recorded on her computer to play and spent more time half listening and pacing the room. Of course trying not to think about him made her think of nothing but him.

You have no one to blame but yourself on this, Bulma, she told herself. You shouldn't have gotten up from that damn chair in the first place. You should have kept to yourself and not given into him. You know he's not going to show up here out of the blue with a fucking ring and a promise of forever. Lord knows this will probably get around, too...

She sighed, shaking her head, and sat down in her chair. She dropped her head back and stared at the ceiling for countless minutes, the lecture continuing to be a wordless drone in the background.

The intercom buzzer startled her from her reverie and she pushed the button acknowledging her secretary.

"Yes Laura?" she asked in to the box.

"Umm..." came the hesitant response on the other end, "there's a man out here for you... He says you invited him." She heard a deep voice saying something that she couldn't decipher, but she could venture an educated guess as to who it was. "And..." Laura added, "that uh... you're hot for him..."

Bulma could practically hear the blush in her voice. She could feel her own blush rising to her face. It frustrated her. She did not blush. "You can send him up," she replied with a sharper edge than she intended towards her secretary.

"Actually," Laura replied sheepishly, "he wants you to come down to meet him... 'Personal escort' would be the exact words he used."

Bulma's mouth curved into an even deeper frown, and she could feel the rage bubbling inside of her threatening to break loose. She didn't want to lead him up to her office—she knew this was more than just a social call, and she welcomed it, but she was not prepared to deal with the Walk of Shame.

Was she willing to risk part of her pride in the place of some measly booty?

She thought about how long it really had been. She thought about Vegeta's perfectly sculpted body.

She thought about the concert.

"... Tell him I'll be down... And tell him to hold his breath. Maybe he'll pass out by the time I get there." She heard a poorly-concealed snicker on the other end before she severed the connection. She sat down in her chair and tried to compose herself.

"I can do this..." she mumbled to herself. She schooled her features into a vicious mask of look-at-me-and-die and stood.

She waited in front of her office door, took a deep breath, and exited like a storm coming ashore. She almost cracked a smile at how people cleared the way for her like they were opposite poles of a magnet. She loved exerting that sort of power and authority. She hoped that she wouldn't lose any with her walk back. Gossip destroys credibility.

Bulma blasted through the doors of the reception room looking particularly fearsome (at least she felt she did). Her secretary jumped. Vegeta—though his name could have been Adonis—slowly raised his head, his characteristic smirk painted his face like art. Her breath caught in her throat as he caught her eye.

"You're not holding your breath," she said when she was confident that her voice wouldn't crack or squeak.

"I don't follow directions well," he replied smugly. They stared at each other, neither willing to give an inch.

When Bulma was able to tear her eyes away, she looked over at her secretary while motioning for Vegeta to follow her. "Laura, no calls."

She didn't wait to see the inevitable blush that would burn Laura's cheeks. She didn't look to see if he was following her. She knew he was.

The murmuring didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. For one, she could hear them mentioning his name. This meant that if they gave her any grief about it, she could point out the fact that because they even knew who he was they were pansies and/or girls. For another, their whispers held more of a sense of awe and reverence than criticism and jeering. She let them have their words. Hell, maybe this would make her appear more powerful in their eyes—give the sense that she could get whomever she wanted. She let a slight smirk tweak her features.

The murmuring was silenced as she shut her office door behind them. Vegeta invited himself to her chair, sitting himself down gracefully and crossing his arms. She doubted the smirk had left his face for even one second since she had seen him in the reception area.

"So," Bulma started, any trace of her former uncertainty and shock gone, "what brings you here?"

Vegeta shrugged. "Oh, I figured we could finish what we started last night."

Even though Bulma knew that was why he was there, she still felt her face flush and the retort jump off her tongue before she could stop it. "So you think I'm such a slut that I'll just sleep with you whenever and wherever?"

Vegeta's mouth twitched at the corner, like he was trying to keep in a laugh. It was as if he knew that it was a knee-jerk reaction accusation and not a legitimate concern. "Now when did I ever say that? I would never use the word 'slut.'" He got up from the chair and slowly approached her, his eyes calm and deep as pools. "I would just say that we both know what we want, and we have been waiting a long time for this. I think it's time to one-up last time, and I have a feeling that you agree."

He had reached her and was standing a few inches in front of her. Bulma had, by this time, leaned her back against the wall to steady herself; his very presence was intoxicating. She could feel that her heart rate had sped up; hear that her breathing was coming too fast. Her "survival instincts" kicked in—his proximity was causing her to lose control.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Mr. Macho now, and you think you can get anything that you want, but I am not that easy, Vegeta." It didn't even sound convincing to her.

Vegeta's hand jumped up to catch her chin so fast that she couldn't even react. "Drop the power trip, Bulma. I'm not one of your lackies, and it doesn't work on me. I know her better."

Then he kissed her, and any retort that she might have blurted out died before she could have even thought of one. Her brain shut off. All she could focus on was him.

A very small part of her was telling her to control herself; that this was how she got hurt the last time. A much larger, more dominant part of her blocked out the weaker's statements with how much she wanted and craved this. It told her how much she had been longing for this—wishing for this—subconsciously since that fateful day years ago when she shut her emotions down.

She wouldn't have believed that had she not been experiencing the elation, desire, and absolute joy she was feeling at this very moment. Unintentionally she shied away from the thought of any particularly powerful words—when she could still think, that is. All of the thoughts that had raced through her head initially were quickly drowned with the feeling of need and thoughts of Vegeta.

After the initial shock of his sudden hiss and her onslaught of emotions in reaction to it, Bulma's arms shot up to grip his neck with choking strength and she held him like he was her saving grace; her life blood. He responded in kind to her strong response, deepening the kiss and pushing her against the wall.

His lips left hers and trailed along her jaw, and his hands wandered down her chest to the buttons on her suit's blazer. Rather than unbuttoning them, as would have been practical, he simply ripped it open. Bulma's brow furrowed when she heard a button ricochet off of the wall. She absentmindedly wondered if that was entirely necessary since now she would have to search for the button and apply Laura's sewing skills to her outfit, but her thoughts trailed off into nothingness as her hands ran up his chest under his shirt, a moan escaping her throat.

Vegeta's mouth returned to hers with as much intensity as he had started with, and he brought one hand from her breasts to her neck. Their kiss only broke for a few seconds as Bulma practically ripped Vegeta's shirt off and then once again for Bulma's.

It was at that point, skin to skin (with the exception of Bulma's bra), that her body took over. She ground her hips against him and her fingers fumbled uselessly with the button on his pants. Bulma could tell that the groan that escaped from his lips was supposed to be a chuckle, though she didn't know how she knew it.

Apparently she wasn't the only one being controlled by her baser instincts. Vegeta grunted and quickly unbuttoned his pants, pulling them down slightly, and hiked up her skirt. His mouth never left hers as they urgently explored each others' mouths with the same excitement and fervor of a scientist who has just discovered a cure for a catastrophic disease. He pulled her up, ripped off her panties, and entered her so swiftly that she had to tear her lips away and gasp, throwing her head back against the wall. Her legs, which were now wrapped around his waist, squeezed tightly around him as if he would escape if they didn't hold him close enough.

There they paused and basked in it. Bulma's eyes glazed over as she stared blankly at the ceiling reveling in the feeling. How had it never felt this good before? Vegeta had pressed his face by her ear and buried his face in her hair. She could hear his ragged breathing distantly through the sound of her super-charged blood beating in her ears.

After a moment Bulma's arms that were now clinging to his back under his arms tightened, her nails running across his skin. That was her signal to continue—and now. This time his gruff chuckle came out as intended.

"You ready for this, woman?" he whispered playfully as he ran his lips along her ear. She didn't trust her voice enough, so all she did was nod. This elicited another chuckle from him.

"You asked for it." With that, he claimed her mouth again and began moving. This was not the slow, sweet love making that had been their only experience with each other, nor was that what she wanted. This was rough, uncontrolled, fervent... fucking. That was the only way to describe it—and she reveled in it. This was what she had been craving all of these years; although, she couldn't tell if she had been craving the sex or him. She didn't care to waste these moments of pleasure the likes of which she had never known on her badly-timed introspective thoughts, so she brought herself gratefully back to the present.

Despite the fact that it was the middle of the workday and they were in her office at her place of work, she couldn't—nor did she want to—keep her cries of elation under control. She didn't care that half of the people on that level could probably hear her screams (not to mention the rhythmic thumping against the wall).

They had the occasional desperate lip locks, but generally Bulma's mouth was left free to exclaim her excitement. She wondered, after the fact, if it was because he wanted to hear how good he made her feel. Her head was once again back against the wall, her hands clinging desperately to him.

"I... I... I lo—" Bulma's voice cut out. Her mind reeled with a mixture of bliss and horror at what she had almost let slip out. Her latent emotions were running rampant on her. She glanced into his eyes, still panting and trying to hide the fear that had just surfaced after her near outburst. He was looking directly into her eyes. There was something beneath the haze of pleasure, but she couldn't tell what it was or what it meant. They stared into each others' eyes for a moment before he started to slow inside of her, and then he suddenly pulled out.

A flash of panic rose in Bulma's chest. Had he inferred what she was going to say? Was he going to leave? Did... he not feel the same way? She had thought that she had left those feelings behind her long ago, but there they were bubbling to the surface.

Vegeta unhooked her legs from his waist and turned her around, bending her over in front of him. She almost sighed with relief when he entered her again from that angle and continued where they had left off. Instead, she moaned at the feel of this new position. She felt that she was a pretty adventurous person in many respects, but she had never allowed herself to try this position with anyone, regardless of her curiosity. She couldn't allow herself to relinquish that much control to someone she didn't care about let alone trust. There was too much power at the man's disposal in this position, and it would feel demeaning were she with anyone else.

This, though... This was different with him. She didn't know why, but she trusted him. Her sensible side told her that it was ludicrous to trust this man at all considering how his reputation had preceded him in the past few years; however, she was in no mood to be sensible.

In fact, she actually started to enjoy not having to be completely in control of the situation. She finally told herself to just let go. And she did.

~*~*~*~

"So when will I see you next? Or am I not?" Bulma asked casually as she lay across the bed on her side supporting her head with her hand, the blanket pulled up to her chest. Because she was such a workaholic, she had requested that a separate bedroom and master bath be added onto her office so that she could just sleep and shower there when she didn't want to leave. This was the first time that this particular bed was used for this purpose. None of the other men she had been with had ever been into her office. She lay there and watched as Vegeta dressed himself and prepared to leave. Luckily for Bulma, it was past hours for the workers, so most of them should have been gone. Laura could let him out since she stayed later.

"Whenever you're bored at work, babe," he smirked at her as he buttoned his pants.

"Oh, so this is an eight-to-five thing?" She yawned and rolled onto her back. She heard him chuckle.

"You do like to jump to conclusions, don't you?" He finished putting on his shirt and walked to the bed. He looked down at her and smirked. Did he ever smile anymore, or was only one side of his mouth capable of lifting up at a time? He leaned over her and kissed her passionately causing her to groan with the remembered thrill of the past couple of hours. "I'll give you my number. My schedule is pretty flexible."

She turned her head to watch him scribble his number onto a note pad on her night stand. He ripped the piece of paper off the pad when he was done and handed it to her before turning to the door. She didn't know what to say to him without seeming like an idiot. I'll miss you? Can you come back tonight? If I hear you're with someone else, your balls will be trapped in a vice? Everything she could think of was just so stupid or possessive...

He stopped at the door leading from the bedroom to her office and turned to face her. He still had that beautiful smirk on his face.

"And I do mean anytime. I want to see how soon I can make you pass out in the middle of it."

Rather than the usual angry reply she may have sputtered out, Bulma let a smirk of her own spread across her face. "You may be trying a long time, rock star. I'm a resilient woman."

"The longer it takes the better. Plus, I love a challenge." He turned from her to the office door. "Goodbye, Ms. Briefs. Hope to hear from you soon," he called as he left.

"Bye Vegeta..." she muttered, not even sure if he heard her. She turned her face back to the ceiling, groaned, and brought her hands to her eyes.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

~*~ End Chapter 9 ~*~

Yay, it's done, and they had sex. Huzzah! Read and review, suckas!

- Amber (Trixie-chan)