Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ I Wasn't Ready Then ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragonball Z, okay?

******************Start

Bulma screamed into her pillow and kicked her slippered feet in frustration. She had tried everything to get her mind off of the events of the night prior, yet nothing had worked. Easy enough for him, she thought ruefully. All he does is train anyway, it's like he can shut down the world whenever he wants to! Why can't I stop thinking about him? She had tried everything from yoga to extensive movie marathons, from almost drowning herself in chocolate to meditation, from sleep to mocha lattes but nothing had worked. It was time to pull out her last weapon: a steaming bubble bath. She could easily remember the last time she had taken one, and it had worked wonders to calm her seething temper. She had even been able to restrain herself from ripping Yamcha's head off when she saw him next. She figured that if anything was going to get her mind off of the smooth feel of his skin against hers, it would be a bath. She padded into the marble white bathroom and turned the "hot" water knob. She left the water running and turned to her store of bath products. She settled on peach scented bubbles and a peach - vanilla scrub. She poured the bubbles into the stream of running water, set her things down on the side of the tub, and unfastened the belt of her bathrobe. The red silk slid off of her body and she stepped into the steaming, bubbling bathtub.

Though she tried as hard as she could, she couldn't stop thinking about the intense pleasures she had experienced last night. She could still feel his hands between her thighs, his mouth on her breasts, his erection inside of her. She could remember the way he had whispered into her ear . . . Are you sure? In the heat of the moment, waiting only for his entry into her slick entrance, she had nodded fervently. However, after they had both climaxed, she rolled over to her side and felt Vegeta sit up. She heard again his sigh of frustration as he mumbled, You weren't sure . . .

Her eyes snapped open as Bulma realized that she had been thinking about him again. She started to scrub herself, as if she was washing away the feelings of last night. She decided that if she wasn't going to be able to forget about him, she might as well think about him in a comfortable setting. She reached over the side of the tub for the remote control to the CD player. She pressed the play button, vaguely wondering what CD might be about to play.