Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Senses ❯ Chapter 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter Five

Cherries.

Vegeta could still taste the flavor even though it had been hours since Bulma lips had touched his own. It had been such a quick peck, too. One she would have given any of her friends. Yet the taste of whatever it was she put on her lips had rubbed off just enough to stick with him.

He pounded his pillow, trying to get more comfortable, but it wasn't physical comfort that was the problem. Bulma had started to haunt him. He craved the scent of her, listened breathlessly for her voice, yearned for a glimpse of her, and cherished her touch. Now he wanted to see if the rest of her tasted as good as her lips.

Vegeta cursed himself for his weaknesses and flopped onto his back. Staring at the ceiling didn't help either. How had the woman gotten under his skin? How could he have let it happen?

At least he knew when it had started. He had awoke from his accident to find her asleep at his bedside. She had been there, waiting for him to regain consciousness, for days. He watched her, trying to solve the mystery of her species, through the haze of medicine they had pumped into him. It was the middle of the night and there she was, so innocent and vulnerable in her sleep. Quite a change from her usual waking personality. When her eyes opened and she saw he had been staring at her, she didn't get mad. She didn't get defensive. She wasn't uncomfortable in the least. She. . .smiled.

That was when his body had overruled his mind and became addicted to her.

A slam of the front door caught his attention. He knew it had to have been Bulma, but he wondered why he hadn't heard her vehicle. Had something happened to it?

Her footsteps on the stairs were slow and irregular and he caught what sounded like gasping. He debated on whether or not he should go see what was wrong. If she were fine, he would look like an idiot. But what if she were hurt?

Finally making a decision, he got up, put on a pair of shorts, and quietly made his way to the door. The hall was dark, but he could make out her shape heading for her room. She had a hand on the wall as if to steady herself and was making a choking sound into the other. Vegeta stepped out, but she ignored him and continued to her room where she flopped across her bed.

"Are you ill?" Vegeta asked from her doorway. He had never been in her bedroom, and wanted to keep it that way if at all possible.

Bulma's face was buried in her arms, but she shook her head. The way her back heaved, he realized that she was crying.

"Have you been injured?" he asked, taking a half step into the room. "I didn't hear you drive in. Did you have an accident?"

Again, Bulma shook her head. Her sobbing intensified. The relief Vegeta felt that she was unhurt was soon pushed aside by his irritation. He had put his pride on the line to show that he was even remotely interested in her well-being, and now she was going to make him play twenty questions?

"So are you going to tell me what's wrong or not?" he finally snapped and came to stand next to her bed with his arms crossed.

Bulma pushed herself up onto her elbows and wiped at her tears, her voice hitching as she spoke. "I met my friend. . .at this club. . .and while we were talking. . .I saw. . .I saw. . ."

Vegeta sighed as another bout of tears overtook her and she grabbed her pillow to cover her face. He was losing patience with her overemotional state, but stayed where he stood just the same.

"I saw Yamcha with another girl! They were kissing on the dance floor in front of everyone!" she blurted out before returning to her already soggy pillow.

He let her cry for awhile, wondering what he was supposed to do. He hadn't been surprised by the news, but she obviously hadn't seen it coming. One part of him wanted to tell her about the number of different female smells he had noticed on the other man. Another part wanted to just leave her here to deal with her own weakness.

It was the last part that won out over the others. The part that made him sit on the side of her bed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck and wet his bare chest with her tears as she told him the whole story. How she had seen Yamcha, the fight they had gotten in, her friend driving her home.

Ad he listened, Vegeta inhaled the aroma of Bulma's hair tucked under his chin and closed his eyes as it filled his head. The scent made him feel slightly dizzy and off balance.

Her voice echoed in his chest as she talked and sobbed. The sound was beautiful even though it pained him to hear her so upset.

The moonlight streaming through her window shone on her bare arms and legs, making them even whiter and softer than normal. The sight nearly took his breath away.

Vegeta slowly ran one hand up and down her back while the other stroked her hair. The feel of her was even silkier than he imagined.

Bulma's crying receded and she began to relax against him. Her arms tightened around his neck as if he were a lifeline she had to either cling to with all her might, or let go and perish. Vegeta's arms responded on their own accord, encircling her small frame in a strong band of security.

He had no idea how long they sat there, just holding each other, but Bulma was the first one to move. She pulled back just enough to look into Vegeta's eyes. Hers were red and swollen, but Vegeta thought the tears had made them sparkle. His gaze dropped down to her perfect, tiny mouth.

Slowly, so slowly that neither of them knew they had been moving, they closed the distance between them. Their lips grazed together, gently at first, then with more pressure until their lips parted to save themselves from being crushed between their teeth.

As Vegeta's tongue explored Bulma's mouth - and later, her skin - he knew he could never get enough of this woman. Smell, sound, sight, feel, and taste. He was completely addicted! An addiction he didn't want to break.