A/N 1:

This is the CENSORED version. For the full uncensored story, please find me on Ao3, under the same pen name.

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Impasse

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The sharp clicking of her heels against the dark marble floors echoed across the now deserted hallway. Her green clipboard was clutched securely against her chest by her left arm, her right hand absently twirling a pen between her slender fingers.

Only a few minutes left until midnight, and everyone else, save for the handful of security personnel, had left the building.

The larger areas lined with small offices and long lines of office desks were far behind her as she moved into the narrow hallway leading into the executive office.

Her wire-rimmed glasses felt heavy as it stubbornly slid down her nose, and she lifted a hand to push it up to be level with her pale blue eyes, her pupils dilating as they adjusted to the darkness that grew deeper the farther she moved into the narrow hall.

She fidgeted with the edges of her light gray blazer, and she tucked her pen into her coat pocket to smooth down her black inner blouse. She paused in her steps to finger the bottom of her tight skirt, self-consciously pulling at it to make it appear as long as possible even though she knew that the short skirt ended a couple of inches above her knees.

She was stalling. She knew she was.

Just as much as she knew that he knew, as well.

She felt her heart begin to pound against her rib cage as the dark door to the CEO's office loomed before her. She took a deep breath, pushing a stray lock of her straight, blue, shoulder-length hair behind her ear, before lifting a hand to announce her arrival.

She pressed a button on the side of the small, electronic door lock, turning on the intercom and sending an alert to the person waiting for her within. "Ouji-san?" she called softly into the small microphone.

The small machine beeped, the red indicator turning green as the door opened slightly to let her in.

She pushed the door open, stepping into the large office surrounded by floor to ceiling windows. The lights from outside buildings blinked merrily up at her, the only source of illumination in the otherwise pitch-dark office.

She stood still as she heard the door swing closed, the soft beeping sound letting her know that the door had locked behind her again. Looking around, she noted the long, dark tan couch and small mahogany table sitting on the right side of the office, the display case of trophies and awards to the left, and finally set her eyes onto the large wooden desk at the far end of the room. Steeling herself, she walked up to the desk, approaching the imposing figure seated on the leather chair behind it.

He sat hunched over, his face hidden by the dark shadows of the office. His fingers were steepled together, hands supporting his chin as he leaned on the table. He seemed relaxed in his stance, almost careless, but she could tell by how his shoulders tensed slightly as she approached that she was not the only one feeling the effects of the darkness between them.

The blue, long-sleeved shirt he was wearing stretched deliciously across his chest, a black tie wrapped loosely around his collar. She could clearly discern the outline of his defined arm muscles pushing rebelliously against the sleeves, which he had folded up to rest just below his elbows. She noted that his black coat was hung onto the coat rack behind the door, the red emblem of Ouji Enterprises stitched meticulously onto the breast pocket.

His head was angled down, his narrow glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose as his eyes watched her approach him from above the rims of his specs. His dark lashes mesmerized her, his thick brows scrunched together as he regarded her with an unreadable look on his handsome face.

His dark hair was a riot of flames on his head, and she faltered in her steps as she remembered that those deceivingly sharp-looking tresses had felt as soft as the finest silk between her fingers. His prominent widow's peak slashed down, leading her eyes to the attractive, masculine facial features she had all but memorized since she had begun working for him six months ago.

She stood unmoving before the large table as reached him, her eyes meeting the obsidian orbs of the man who watched her every motion like a predator poised to attack its chosen prey.

Her voice lodged into her throat as she attempted to speak, but her hesitation was not missed by the eager spectator. A corner of his lips lifted in a smirk, breaking the deafening silence between them.

"Bulma," the soft sound of her name left those lips in a husky whisper, and it was only then that she realized, with a sharp jolt, that she had been staring at him as if in a trance from the moment she walked in.

"Ouji-san," she began, "I have emailed you the charts that you need for tomorrow's board meeting. I have the printouts ready as well."

"Ouji-san?" he asked with a raised brow, and she watched, mesmerized, as he slowly, sinuously stood from his relaxed slouch on his leather chair. He leaned towards her, large hands bracing himself on the desk as he regarded her with narrowed eyes. "Why Bulma, must you be so formal?"

She gulped, his soft voice inciting a myriad of lascivious memories within her, her heart racing as she remembered how that voice and his hot breath against her neck had sent delighted shivers down her spine.

Her gaze traveled up to meet his, but she hesitated at the last moment, choosing to fix her eyes on the frames of his glasses that had been sliding down his patrician nose. The glasses, she knew, were an act. He had perfect vision, but the glasses, to most, denoted experience, knowledge, power… this man commanded respect.

She fought against her body's response to his nearness, straightening her back as she replied as stiffly as she possibly could. "I only dropped by to inform you of the status of the report, Ouji-san," she emphasized.

She took her eyes off him as she peered down into the contents of her clipboard, pulling out the sheets with the printed charts and statistics.

With a flourish, she held the papers out towards him, very nearly hitting him with them in her increasingly flustered state.

"See here," she motioned to the first page, setting her clipboard down onto the table so she could point at the charts as she explained, pretending not to notice that the man she was talking to was completely ignoring her work in favor of blatantly watching her. "This first chart indicates the attrition rates of the sales department, as well as the reasons cited for the resignations."

She dared a peek up at him, and she saw that he had basically zoned out, his gaze fixed on her lips as she continued speaking. "The majority of our staff members are satisfied with their work environments, so the number is basically negligible. The only cause for concern is the departure of Tien, who was the second highest seller in the third quarter. Now here, we-"

"Enough!" his palm smacking against the tabletop, and the forceful tone of his voice stunned her into silence as she looked up at him in alarm, the papers falling from her slack grip.

"Enough, woman," he rasped, eyes boring into her as his dark gaze commanded that she meet his own. "This has gone on long enough. Why do you insist on tormenting me?"

"Tormenting you?" she asked, disbelief making heat rise to her cheeks. She fisted her hands, planting them on her hips as she stood to her full height, glaring at him as menacingly as her small frame would allow. "I only came here to give you the reports! You are the one who keeps making this so difficult!"

"I am not the one who is hot one moment and arctic the next," he seethed, one hand moving up to violently pull his glasses off, throwing it carelessly to land on the paperwork on his desk. Moving quickly from behind the desk to stand directly before her, his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, his eyes blazing as he regarded her. "I have told you, under no uncertain terms, that I want you. I have shown you that I want you. But you have yet to give me a straight answer."

She bit her lip in indecision.

When Bulma had applied for this job, she was supposed to have been hired as the secretary of the owner of the company. The man was old enough to be her father and, though imposing, had been kind enough that Bulma had immediately accepted the offer.

However, two short days before Bulma was supposed to start work, the older man had suddenly decided to leave the company and hand the reigns over to his eldest son.

The said eldest son had become her boss instead. What started out as a simple job became a battle of wills when the attraction they immediately felt for each other upon meeting quickly became unbearable, undeniable…

And now, said boss was hovering over her, his slanted eyes betraying his anger and a more pained emotion that she could not quite put her finger on.

"Please… please, Ouji-san," she whimpered, snapping her eyes shut to keep from seeing the chaotic passion in his, and to keep him from reading the raw emotions in her own.

"Say my name, Bulma," he dared her, and she felt his fingers quickly, but gently grab her chin, forcing her to crane her neck slightly to look up at him.

He was not much taller than her, but his presence was like a storm, strong, volatile, and if left untamed, capable of utter destruction.

She was unable to fight him, and she lifted somber eyes up to regard him, her lips trembling with the confusion she could still feel deep in her core.

"Vegeta, please," she finally whispered. His eyes were on her, watching every harsh breath that escaped her as she breathed painfully in her anguish. "We can't. This isn't right."

"Don't you dare say that it isn't right, woman," he growled. His sharp eyes softened marginally as he continued, "Because it feels right. You know it does."

"I…" she stuttered, but he raised two fingers to her mouth then, softly laying them on her lips to halt her words.

"It felt right, when you surrendered to me after the office party," he leaned closer, letting his harsh breath fan across her cheeks as he reminded her of the first time she gave in to him, the first time he possessed her body with an unholy passion that still burned her from head to toe.

She gasped as she felt the fingers of his other hand clutch her sides, slowly soothing the stress from her rigid stance before him.

She could feel herself begin to melt against him, and try as she might, Bulma could not stop her body from craving the hard planes of his own.

"It felt right last night," he added, and a small sob left her as she felt him begin to wrap his arm around her, pulling her in ever closer, and she remained powerless to resist.

"It only feels wrong when you fight it, Bulma," he said in a harsh whisper, his voice soft but urgent, insistent. "Because you know… that you belong with me. Only me."

She sucked in a deep breath as he pulled back, a hand lifting to pull her glasses off her face, setting it down on top of her clipboard on his desk.

"Your body knows it," he purred as the tips of his fingers stroked teasingly across her cheeks.

His hand traveled lower, slowly moving until his warm palm was resting on her chest, feeling the furious thudding of her heart against her rib cage. His lips lingered at her jawline, the feel of his breath on her skin raising goosebumps throughout her whole body as he continued speaking, "Your heart knows it."

She felt herself falling into him, her hands itching to hold on to his powerful frame, seeking approval, reassurance, but her mind stubbornly refused to yield.

Bulma was a logical girl… she possessed an analytic mind that screamed at her how big of a mistake this was. She had something to prove, she needed to show her parents that she had it in her to succeed even without their family's influence… that she could rise up in professional ranks in spite of, not because of, her physical beauty.

But… Vegeta was right. Her every sense, every beat of her heart, every drop of her blood, knew that she wanted this, wanted him.

As if he felt the acquiescence simmering within her, he seized the chance to crush her small body against his own, arms wrapping possessively around her as he dove down and his lips swiftly and vigorously captured hers in a deep, demanding kiss.

She lifted her hands to his chest, intending to push him away… but as she felt his warm strength against her palms, the walls she kept between her mind and her heart crumbled into dust, and she found her fingers curling into the material of his shirt as she moaned and kissed him back.

She closed her eyes against the feel of him around her, her fingers grasping wildly at him and moving up to hold him tighter to her. Her right hand wound around his neck as her left curled up under his arm, feeling his hard biceps flex beneath her touch as he tightened his hold on her.

Bulma parted her lips to let him in, and Vegeta quickly plundered her mouth, keeping control of the kiss as he tasted her, devoured her, dominating her with every deliberate glide of his tongue.

She heard him groan against her lips before he pressed himself against her, and she could feel him begin to harden through their clothes as he rubbed his pelvis teasingly against her. She moaned in kind, the sound breathless and needy as she clutched the nape of his neck with desperate urgency, all but lost to the sensations of his kiss, the hurried but gentle caress of his hands on her body.

Without breaking their kiss, his hands fell to her waist, grasping her sides tight before she felt him lift her, settling her down to sit on the edge of his desk.

She hummed in delight against his mouth, her hands dropping to his arms. She could feel his strength as his biceps flexed with his movements, and her fingers curled possessively around the taut muscles she could feel beneath the cloth of his shirt.

He stepped closer to her, his knees knocking softly against the wood of the table she was on, as his arms wound around her hips. His hands spread out, he greedily palmed her buttocks to drag her to the very edge of the table. He stood between her parted legs, pressing his growing arousal against her dampening core.

He finally broke the kiss, his lips feathering gently across her jaw, his teeth nipping teasingly while she could do nothing but hold on and sigh in pleasure at his touches.

Vegeta's hands found hers, and he entwined their fingers, his much larger hands completely engulfing her own as he raised their clutching hands to rest against his chest.

She could feel his erratic heartbeat against the back of her hand, and she pulled away from him, her eyes seeking his amidst the darkness.

She gasped as their gazes met, and her heart basked in the need that she saw clearly written in his obsidian orbs… need that she knew he could also find in her cerulean eyes.

"Bulma," he breathed softly, his breath fanning across her lips as he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers.

He released her hands, and he opened his eyes to stare into her own as she felt him reach up and begin to pull her blazer down her shoulders.

She knew where this was leading to. She knew what he wanted… what would happen if she didn't pull away.

His eyes blazed his question at her, and she knew that he would stop if she told him to stop. If she closed her eyes against his penetrating gaze and halted his hands from removing her clothes, he would step away from her and let her leave.

But she didn't do any of those things. With a determined glint in her eyes, she straightened her arms and let him pull the offending garment off her.

He understood, and with renewed vigor, he pulled the blazer down, then carelessly discarded the garment at their feet.

She reached up to unknot his tie, then snaked it along his neck before dropping it to the floor as well.

Her fingers languidly traced up his sides before she reached for the buttons on his shirt. She determinedly watched her fingers slowly unbutton each one until she had his shirt open, then she gently pulled the material to untuck it from his pants.

The shirt hung listlessly around his body, and her mouth watered as she looked longingly at the beautiful body framed by the material. She noted how his breathing had quickened, deepened as she undressed him, and unable to avoid his gaze anymore, she looked up to meet his eyes once again.

The intensity of his stare took her breath away for a second before he pulled her close into another kiss. The kiss was deep, probing, with none of the urgency of the last one, but with even more of his feelings injected into every small motion, every stilted inhale.

Bulma closed her eyes as she groped for his shirt, pushing it off his broad shoulders. The silk slid off his form like water, joining the growing pile of clothes at their feet.

She pulled away from the kiss then, her eyes selfishly raking in every dip and angle of his deliciously ripped torso. She saw his hands move towards her, holding the edges of her blouse, before he began pulling it up. She raised her hands as he pulled it over her head, and she now sat before him in her black bra and her short skirt that had hiked up her hips due to their frenzied actions.

She watched as he dropped her blouse and stared at her, his longing for her a tangible wave that he exuded from every pore of his body.

Bulma had to wonder what he saw when he looked at her that had him so mesmerized. It puzzled her, what a man with such a perfect face and a body that could make the gods themselves weep in envy, could possibly find so desirable in someone such as her.

Sure, she knew she was beautiful… but the way he looked at her made her feel like no other mortal could come close to her. He made her feel like the most immaculate being in the universe, and it excited and confused her all at the same time.

She wondered if what he saw in her was the same as what she saw in him.

To her, there was not a single flaw on him. His sharp eyes, straight nose and sensuous lips beckoned to her, and her desperate hands reached out to pull his amazing body to hers as he reached and grasped her to him as well.

To her surprise, he didn't move to kiss her, nor to touch her anywhere else in an attempt to arouse her. Vegeta simply held on to her, burying his face in the crook of her neck, taking deep, unsteady inhales as he let his lips gently graze her shoulders.

The intimacy of the moment brought tears to her eyes, tears she fiercely held back as she choked out his name.

"Vegeta," she whispered, and she hummed as felt him shudder against her, his arms tightening around her in response. His hands spread wide across her back, and she felt as one hand smoothed up her skin to toy with the clasps of her bra.

She didn't resist when he unclasped the garment, and she felt the straps loosely hang on to her shoulders before he snuck his hand up to pull her bra away. As it fluttered to the ground, she felt the hand on her back moved to wrap more tightly against her, pressing her to him once more, her breasts rubbing against his hard chest.

His other hand reached down to grasp her buttocks, lifting her off the table, and she automatically wrapped her long legs around his hips as he carried her up, making his way to the couch on one side of the office.

He lay her down on the plush cushions, and he moved to lean over her, his eyes roaming her as he reached for her skirt and began to tug it off.

She reached down to unzip it before he actually tore through her clothing, and she lifted her hips up as he dragged her skirt down her long legs.

She lay there in just her panties and her heels, which she absently kicked off her feet while she hungrily watched him begin to unbutton and push his black slacks off. He kicked his shoes off, impatiently pulling his socks from his feet as he let his pants drop all the way down to the floor.

His narrow hips, framed by that slashed indent between his torso and thighs, made her mouth positively water. His black silk boxers wrapped tight against his lower hips, concealing that part of him that now strained against the restricting cloth of his underwear.

He leaned over her, one hand bracing him above her as the other began to trace languid circles around her stomach. The soft touches made her ache, and she felt her hands itch to touch him, to hold him as dearly as he held her.

She lifted her hands, and very gently held his cheeks in her warms palms, smiling shyly at him with her kiss-swollen lips.

He didn't smile back, but he did acquiesce to her silent request. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he lowered his head, his lips locking with hers in another intense kiss.

She could feel him everywhere, enclosing her, the darkness of their surroundings adding to the thrill as the allure of the forbidden pierced straight through her mind to riot loudly within her chest.

He pulled away from her lips, and she sighed his name in delight as his lips travelled south, until she felt his hot breath on her breast.

"Vegeta," she moaned, closing her eyes, a loud cry escaping her. She pressed him tight against her chest, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, the smooth, familiar feel of them making another surge of desire crawl from the center of her chest to the tips of her toes.

Vegeta gripped her hips to his, grinding his erection on her core and she cried out, her restless hands pulling roughly at his hair. He pulled his lips away from her chest, leaning up to mouth at her shoulder before he kissed a trail down her torso, his tongue dipping into her navel before teasingly nipping at the skin on her lower abdomen.

Bulma groaned loud as the tips of his fingers moved to play around the edges of her underwear, hovering around her netherlips, his nails scratching lightly at the smooth skin of her inner thighs.

"Vegeta!" she cried out his name, her voice hoarse with her desire. It felt so good to let those syllables slip from her lips, the sound of his name an affirmation of the identity of the only man who had ever made her crumble so thoroughly with just the stroke of his hands.

He glanced up at her, a smirk grazing his lips, and the naughty glint in his eyes distracted her enough that she violently started when he suddenly slipped a finger into her.

She threw her head back, her neck bobbing as a delighted cry lodged in her throat.

"Does this feel good, Bulma?" he asked, his voice low and breathy as his eyes raked up her exposed body.

"Aaahh! Yessss. Oh!" she tried to formulate a smarter response as she knew he was just egging her on, but she was so completely overwhelmed by bliss that she would have been unable to spell out her own name.

She cried out when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, her hands reaching to grasp his upper arms as the feeling of utter frustration filled her.

She looked down her body and found that he had pulled away from her, but all her protests died in her chest when she saw his hands reach for the waistband of his boxers, pushing the soft article off.

Her jaw went slack as unbelievable desire and need for his body roiled within her, desperate to feel him inside her.

She reached down as well, impatiently shimmying out of her panties, pulling one leg out as the other one was still snug around his body, refusing to uncurl. She left it to hang around one knee, her free leg dropping to her side and off the couch so her foot was flat against the floor.

She preened as his narrowed eyes fixed intently on her body. He let his eyes travel from her flushed face, down to her heaving breasts, her flat abdomen, before finally resting on her exposed core.

Almost as if hypnotized, he dove down and with single-minded intensity, he wrapped his arms around her upper thighs, pulled her legs even wider apart, and with harried intent, set his mouth onto her core.

Her head thrashed from side to side, delirium settling in her as the indescribable feelings mounted in her chest, her core thrumming in delight as Vegeta kept on pushing her towards the edge.

"Oh! Oh Ve- Ah! Vegeta!" she cried out, and finally, unable to hold on, her body bowed up, her core grinding against his mouth as he grasped her more forcefully, her climax washing over her.

He rose up, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips while his eyes blazed with his own arousal.

She motioned to him with her hands, asking him without words to come nearer. When he did, she reached up, her arms wrapping tightly around him, pressing her breast to the hard planes of his chest as her tiny hands roamed the wideness of his back.

He took the hint, and he lifted her into his arms, cradling her to him, seating her down on his thighs as she trembled uncontrollably.

She could feel his erection, hot and hard against her belly. She knew he needed release too, but he just patiently held on to her as she stroked his torso, her hands tracing the hard muscles beneath his skin.

"Bulma," he whispered, and she nuzzled his neck in response, taking a deep whiff of his delicious scent.

He smelled of virility, strength and power. His scent was the most amazing mix of everything Bulma had ever wanted in her life, and she could never get enough.

"Can you feel it, woman?" he asked, and the tenderness in his usually tough voice nearly made her collapse into tears.

"Yes, I feel it," she thought, but she stubbornly refused to say the words.

Saying the words would mean her unequivocal surrender. Something she was not ready to do.

Her mind warred heavily with her heart and her body, but again… Bulma was a logical woman. She valued her mind above all else.

Everything within her was in chaos because of this man.

Bulma's very soul was at a painful impasse.

He crushed her tighter against him when she failed to answer, and the tears pooled in her eyes as she thought of how absolutely unfair she was being towards this man.

"I need you, Vegeta," she choked out against his skin, feeling goosebumps rise on his skin as he listened to her speak, felt her lips move softly around the words. "Take me... please."

With nearly inhuman ease, he lifted her up, placing her facedown on the couch. She felt his hands gently coaxing her body until her hips were lifted up, hands braced flat against the soft cushions as he had her on her knees before him.

He then moved so he was kneeling behind her, legs on either part of hers. He rested his hands on her hips, gently stroking the roundness of her bottom as he ground his hardness against her, making her feel his desire for her.

Bulma arched back, rubbing herself to him, mewling needily as she felt him begin to push in.

"Bulma," he gasped, his hands running up and down her back in delicate, reverent caresses.

She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes drinking in his powerful body looming over her as they stayed connected in the most intimate way. He was panting harshly, but his gaze on her remained soft as his eyes traveled the length of her upper body until his eyes met hers.

His eyes pierced her heart powerfully, leaving her a breathless mess. She cannot look away from him, his dark orbs boring into her as his body pleasured her, fulfilled her so deeply that all coherent thought left her as she began to wail, blissfully unaware of the jumbled words flying from her lips.

Overwhelmed by the sensations, Bulma squeezed her eyes closed, throwing her head back in a euphoric shout.

Vegeta leaned over her, and his hot chest on her back sent sizzles of excitement all throughout every inch of her skin. He wrapped an arm around her waist, clutching her tight as he moved more urgently with her, evoking wicked thrills that had her sobbing deeply as his name spilled carelessly from between her clenched teeth.

"Ve... Ge… Ta!" she keened, her throat parched, sweat dripping down her temples as she leaned back against him, seeking to take in as much of his warmth as she could.

"Bulma," he responded, his husky voice deepened even more by his insatiable desires.

He nipped at her shoulder, and she cried out, her arms beginning to fail as her body wound tighter and tighter, ready to spring free at any moment.

"Please… please!" she begged, but for what, she didn't understand.

He bent slightly to the side, stretching as far as he could until he could nip at her jaw.

She turned her face to him, and the moment she did, his questing lips met hers, swallowing her cries in a frantic kiss.

She kissed him back eagerly, feeling that wonderful pinnacle of pleasure building up from within her. Her limbs were seizing up, her body imploding with all the delectable sensations.

She reached up with one hand to grasp the edge of the couch to support her weight, while her other hand moved carefully to clutch at his hand around her waist, snaking her fingers in between his longer digits.

Vegeta's fingers curled around hers as he pulled his mouth away from her kiss, and he gasped out his uneven breaths as he carried them to the edge.

"Say my name, Bulma. Say it again," he rasped, a pleading tone ringing the edges of his words, and she could not have denied him if she tried.

"Vegetaaaa," she whined, her word ending in a harsh gasp as she felt her release begin to take over her.

"Come for me, woman," he whispered in her ear, a sharp nip to her earlobe punctuating his words.

"I'm so close!" Bulma said breathlessly, her voice nearly inaudible even to herself. "God, Vegeta, please!"

"Bulma," he groaned as he gave her a particularly hard thrust that had her arching and convulsing in his arms.

Bulma screamed, unabashedly throwing her head back, uncaring of anything beyond the two of them, together, as she exploded into a powerful climax, uncoiling from deep within her and making her entire body shake madly with ecstasy.

She felt Vegeta stiffen behind her, uttering broken syllables of her name in the midst of his garbled exclamations.

Her arms finally gave out, and she collapsed, catching herself on her elbows to keep her face from smashing into the thick cushions below.

Vegeta himself was incoherent, his breathing stunted and shallow as he tried to get his heart to calm down from the rapid rhythm that Bulma could feel from where he slumped bonelessly against her lower back.

It took them a while, but soon, he had recovered enough to move. He sluggishly gathered her into his arms, rearranging them on the couch as he lay down, holding her on top of him so her head was pillowed on his chest. She wound her arms around him as he cocooned her within his embrace.

They laid quietly, bare bodies shimmering with sweat, basking in the pleasure and overwhelming feelings of their coupling.

When they had caught their breaths, Bulma was the first to break the silence.

"I… I should go," she whispered.

His arms simply tightened around her in response.

"Vegeta, I should really go. Somebody could come in and -"

"No," he said softly, the begging lilt making her snap her head up to look at his face.

He was watching her, his eyes wide as he took in her own surprised expression.

"Stay," he said again, fingers clutching her sides.

She looked up at him, her indecision warring within her now that the euphoria of her lust had left her, and her mind was clear once again.

"I can't."

"You can," he insisted, refusing to let her budge.

She turned her eyes away from him, unable to stand the pained look on his face.

"Vegeta… I…"

"Stay with me, Bulma."

Tears gathered at the edges of her eyes once again, and not for the first time that night, her heart won the battle against her brain.

"Alright," she sighed, and she felt his arms hold her more securely as she spoke. "Just for tonight."

"Not if I can help it. I am serious, woman. I want you."

"I need to hear more than that from you," she thought as she squeezed her eyes to hold in her tears.

And she realized then, with startling clarity, that the reason her mind kept screaming that this was wrong, was not because of propriety or her ambitions.

Her mind wanted to keep her from getting hurt. But her heart was already bleeding.

It was an impasse still, and she didn't know of a way to break the stalemate.

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END

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A/N 2:

I was stumped by the Basset Hound prompt, so I originally gave up since I can't write anything for it… then I saw one fanart of Vegeta and Bulma in glasses… Boss and secretary… I was absolutely helpless. I had to do it. :D

I have to admit though, that I didn't foresee the angsty direction that this story had taken. Whoops.

I may have some ideas for a continuation for this, but for now, it's a oneshot. Oh well… we'll see. :D

Feedback will be greatly appreciated!