Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ VeNdEtTa Of ThE hEaRt ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

Passion's Lecherous Ways...

Vegeta smirked as the woman within his arms began to surrender her body to his touch. Things were going well, pleasantly well. Already he was luring her to him, making her desire more than she could ever possess. Yes, she would love him by the end of the month. Hell, why not this week? He was confident that his plan would succeed, and vengeance would be fulfilled.

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Bulma could feel the smirk curving his lips, as they were still molded to her own. So, he thought he could toy with her? Bait her into his bed with sweet promises? Her mind growled inwardly at his audacity.

Did he not remember it was he who destroyed her life? Stole her from her beloved?

In attempt to amend her previous bewilderment, Bulma pushed him away from her. Luckily, the act caught him off guard, giving her the advantage to the peculiar situation. No one had ever rejected him, this evident within the dumfounded expression contorting his face, though a mask of indifference quickly replaced it. Bulma scoffed, he was offended, and she was happy to be the first to do so.

"Don't assume to touch me," she gritted out, barley containing the rage welling within the depths of her being. Oddly enough it wasn't all directed to him, for self-loathing was present, especially the traitorous body that still wished to reach out to him.

"You seemed willing enough," Vegeta rebuked without thinking.

By the malicious glint that entered her azure depths, he could only guess his choice of words were- misplaced? Dear God, the woman looked like she was going to tear him apart. Furrowing his brows in concentration, he tried to recover from his previous fault.

"If. You. Ever. Touch me. Again," Bulma ground out, "So help me, I'll castrate you- you fiend."

"I hardly see that necessary," Vegeta sneered vehemently.

"We obviously have different perspectives, then," Bulma stated condescendingly.

"Obviously," he snorted, walking past her with regal posture, taking a seat on the bed behind her, the soft satin linen giving a sensual glow to his being with its red-wine coloring. When she didn't make any move to leave, Vegeta dutifully pointed out, "The door is in the same place."

Bulma promptly exited, her hips swaying tauntingly away from him. Damned woman, did she know how she affected men?

"Oh- and Mr. Ouji," Bulma's voice called once outside of his room.

"Yes," he broached haughtily.

"You can't have it."

"Pray, what are you speaking of," Vegeta questioned blandly, interest within her statements vanished.

"My heart," she stated stoically, "You cannot have it," Bulma said blatantly, contempt lacing her feminine voice.

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"You knew about this," a feminine voice screeched in frustration.

"Well- yes," another occupant of the room admitted sheepishly, scratching the back f his head in confusion to his wife's anger.

"Goku!"

"I didn't see any harm to it," Goku explained, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Oh, right of course," Chi Chi agreed in a placating tone, "I suppose Bulma's in no danger. I mean, what was I thinking?"

"I- don't know," Goku offered shyly.

"Why, Vegeta has always been a stand up guy," Chi Chi spoke, her voice gradually becoming cynical sarcasm, "After all, Bulma being kidnapped by Vegeta on her wedding night wouldn't be devastating to her. Waking up in a strange place, inhabited by her abductors, of which are ALL womanizers, would be quite comforting, right?"

"I- suppose," Goku chuckled nervously.

Chi Chi made it evident that she didn't agree with the hard smack she bestowed upon her husband with the- cooking skillet? She winced at the dull thud the collision constructed, the hollow vibration sounding throughout the room. Was her husband brain dead? Too late to pity loosing logical conversations with a man, but she loved him for what he was. And what he wasn't, including the genius she constantly wished for while growing up.

"We have to go save her," Chi Chi informed willfully, "We have to talk some sense into Vegeta."

"I don't believe he would appreciate you suggesting he doesn't have sense to begin with," a new voice spoke arrogantly.

"Hello, Vegeta," Chi Chi growled, turning around to face him, a scowl placed firmly on her lips, just as he wore the same, "Sometimes I question your sense, whether or not you started with any is not a discussion I would like to participate in. Though since you're here, do you mind telling me what the hell you were thinking while kidnapping Bulma?"

"Don't break out in a fit, harpy," Vegeta scorned bitterly, "I've had quite enough of women for the day."

"So, you met Bulma's temper," Chi Chi chuckled, thoroughly amused with the anger that flashed within his eyes at the mere mention of her long-time friend.

"If you can call that a temper," he snarled. "I kiss her and she blows into a fit," Vegeta huffed indignantly, "it isn't as if I'm inexperienced. Damn woman," he cursed.

"No," she agreed blandly, scorn lacing her tone.

Vegeta was far from what one would consider `inexperienced'. In fact, he was beyond what could be described as `experienced'. The damn man had courted so many desirable women that counting would be irrelevant. But courtships with Vegeta Ouji were within the bedroom only, nothing past the boundaries of mistresses did he wander, for love had never acquainted itself with the man, always left as an outcast to his numerous seductions of women.

Eternally a being of forbidden pleasures, one never bound to the fabled love of man and woman that had captivated so many, and never was it sought out by his dark heart. He would not surrender the ice fortresses of hate that encased his mysterious heart, nor would he allow another to enter. A life without love, was a life of peace for his tainted soul. The malicious hate that had been introduced to him so many years past was the soul element that comforted his bitter essence, the only emotion that allowed his deceitful barriers to exist.

Vegeta was aware that the woman that now inhabited his palace, the very tavern of his illicit binding, threatened his existence. The existence that had sustained his betrayed life- the same deceit that encased his heart, veiling him from the emotions she so passionately held. Yet, despite the fire within her that threatened to melt his barriers one by one, he could not resist the desire to tempt its flames upon him.

Never would he know that the fire that so sumptuously drew him to her, was a fire that only existed when he was near. He ignited her with a heat he knew not subsisted, a heat that still yearned for the love forbade by his every strip of conscious thought. She was a constant reminder of what he could never obtain, eternally condemned to reach but never able to firmly grasp the concepts she harbored shamelessly, spoke of with such conviction.

Love...the very idea was obscene!

"Are you listening," an indignant Chi Chi hissed, she simply couldn't believe the man!

"Kakorrot, get your harpy of a wife to shut. the hell. up," Vegeta growled, his obsidian eyes burning with their heated glare at Chi Chi.

"Don't you dare," Chi Chi snapped to her husband before returning her anger to it's soul recipient. Vegeta.

"I don't want to hear it."

"Well you're going to, buster," she screamed, "Despite your obvious belief that you can screw up my friends entire life, I won't stand by and let you. Either, you let her go, right now, or suffer the consequences."

"Which curse shall it be this time, will you damn me to hell or take me with you," Vegeta inquired blandly, clearly uninterested in Chi Chi's views.

"I'm not going to hell," Chi Chi clarified righteously.

"I don't suppose they allow banshees or demons in heaven, so you may as well stop sinning for the sake of convincing me."

"I don't sin," she informed in a huff.

"Last time I checked, lies were sins, so now you've completed your damnation. Tisk, tisk," he chided tauntingly.

Goku only watched the exchange with a frown. Why did those two always have to fight?

"Oh, I damned myself when I married into your family," Chi Chi sighed exasperatedly.

"You hear that, Kakorrot," Vegeta chuckled, "She regrets marrying you!"

At Goku's dejected expression, and Chi Chi's mouth remorseful twitch, Vegeta knew he had successfully removed himself from the limelight. Smirking triumphantly, he turned on his heel, strutting purposefully from the Son house.

"Let me see her," a soft voice beseeched him.

Stopping mid-stride in surprise that Kakorrot's wife could speak in genteel tones, Chi Chi took it as a possible acceptance.

"Let us see Bulma," Goku reestablished.

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because?"

"I said so."

"Please."

"No."

"Yes," Chi Chi barked firmly.

"Yes," Vegeta conceded falsely, anticipating Kakorrot's opposition.

"No!"

"Fine, have it your way-" Vegeta chuckled, walking briskly out the door with an arrogant smirk curling his irresistible lips.

Even as he revved the engine of his car, the collision of Kakorrot's head and a frying pan rang clear within the usually serene silence.

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Bulma watched his facial expression anxiously, desperately hoping that he would see the situation as one should and rescue her. Why, if she were a milkman, she would gladly jump at the chance to be the heroine of a lovely damsel!

I guess, he just didn't see it her way.

"I'm sorry, Madame," the elderly man apologized earnestly, "but, I speak little English."

"No, no, you can't leave" Bulma pleaded, "They're holding me captive. Cap-tive."

"No choco-milk."

"No, cap-tive," Bulma attempted once more, "Kidnapped!"

"No choco-milk!"

"I don't want your damn `choco-milk'," she screeched in fury, "I want you to learn English. Come back and listen to me. Then, save me!"

The un-pleasant milkman simply turned away from her, walking with a crooked step towards his small automobile. Without sparing a back-glance, the man started his age-withered car and made his way out of her sight.

But that didn't mean to say she hadn't seen the quick turn he made to the front of the estate.

With an agitated gasp, Bulma pulled herself back through the window and rushed to greet the old bastard at the front door. Her high heeled shoes proved to be a real nuisance as she tried to make record time down the steps of the staircase, but after tripping several times, they appeared to be a risk to her welfare. So, she sent them on their way in front of her, throwing them down the staircase, where they, in turn, tumbled all the way to the greeting hall. Precisely where she intended to be.

Obviously, she wasn't the only one with that thought in mind.