She stared, wide-eyed, at the raucous, noisy crowd. "There must be at least half a million people in here," she whispered to herself. She turned her eyes to the man beside her—the man with whom she had fallen in love in spite of herself.

"Vegeta," she asked coyly, "Do you want to buy me a drink?"

He smirked down at her. "You? He asked mockingly, "You’d be out like a light after one drink."

Bulma harrumphed. "I could drink you under the table and you know it."

"Is that a challenge, woman?"

She suddenly felt the need to prove herself to him. He always treated her like a child, in spite of his pet name for her. She wanted him to treat her like the woman that he called her—and if she were able to hold her liquor against him, she could do just that. Even if she’d never had a drink before in her life, it couldn’t be that hard, could it?

So, taking a leap of faith, Bulma replied, "Yes. It is."

A trouble look came over him, but Vegeta quickly turned away and nodded to the busy bartender, who, recognizing the infamous Vegeta Ouji, quickly passed the gangster several bottles of hooch. Vegeta led Bulma through the rowdy pack of flappers and goofs, his presence enough to make the half-under partiers get out of the way. He brought her to a short, round table on the far side of the speakeasy, where the din wasn’t as great.

"Beat it," he told the couple necking at the table.

The man looked up and was about to tell Vegeta off until he recognized the short, flame-haired man and, with a flurry of apologies, lurched out of his chair and drug his flapper with him as he scurried away. Vegeta smirked and chivalrously held out a chair for Bulma.

She frowned—the whole point of being a flapper was to prove that women were equal to men. To make a point, she pulled out her own chair, on the opposite side of the table, and sat down. Vegeta’s eyes narrowed for a moment before his smirk returned and he sat down in the chair he had originally pulled out for her. He slammed the bottles down on the table with a loud thump.

Vegeta stared at her. Bulma stared back at him, unsure of what to do or say next.

"If you’re going to drink," her boss drawled, a wicked, predatory glint in his eye, "then drink."

Her eyes opened slowly and softly, a small smile tugging at her face.

The man who had made love to her all those nights as she slept softly in her lonely bed … it had been him all along.

She still ached where he had touched her in her dreams … she needed him so badly.

Drink still clouding her mind, she determined right then that she would have him.

"Bulma," his concerned voice broke through the haze, "Are you awake?"

She looked up at him, her eyes still dreamy. She was in her own room back at the resort—he must have brought her here after she collapsed. Why had she collapsed? She couldn’t remember—but that was unimportant now. He had turned down the lights, so that all she could see was his silhouette.

She reached out a hand and grasped his arm. The smooth muscles tensed beneath her grip.

"Woman," he growled lowly.

She turned onto her side, the sheets rustling softly with her movements. Her other hand came out from beneath the covers and went straight to his already hard crotch.

She was in no mood to be subtle right now.

"Fuck me," she whispered wickedly. "Fuck me now."

In the darkness of the room, all her other senses increased; she could smell the sweet scent of the sweat that had begun emerging from his pores, she could hear the increased rate of his breathing, she could feel his erection jumping beneath her caressing hand.

He growled again.

"This is a dangerous game you play, woman." The words came out almost as a groan as she tightened her grasp on his arousal, pleasuring him.

"You want me and you know it." Her voice was that of a woman who had finished playing games. A ready, willing woman in need of a man. "So take me."

She could tell that his rigid control was slipping at her words and the movements of her hand, and it thrilled her. It thrilled her to know that she had this much power of him, one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the world. She knew that they had a past—although she could only vaguely remember any of it through the cloudy haze covering her mind at this moment—and she didn’t care. She wanted him, and he wanted her. Those were the only things that mattered right now.

Everything else could wait.

With a vicious growl of surrender, Vegeta succumbed to her ministrations, straddling her body on the bed, his arms and legs planted on either side of her as he leaned down and kissed her with everything he had.

It’s been so long, she thought. And it’s never been like this. No, that’s wrong—it has been like this before. A lifetime ago …

She could feel the long buried, quietly slumbering memories stirring within her, awakening slowly as the fantasy touch of her dreams became the caresses of his hands in reality. But she pushed them aside, unwilling to have anything intrude upon this glorious moment, her satisfying victory over his once infallible self-control.

His lips burned a trail down to her breasts—somehow she was clad simply in her lacy black bra and panties, the expensive dress she had worn tonight removed from her body as she slept. She didn’t mind—it would have been a shame to ruin such a gorgeous dress in such a lascivious manner, anyway. She arched her back, offering her breasts to him.

With a ruthless snarl, he tore her bra away from her body, flinging it aside into the darkness shrouding the room as his lips attacked her hard, aching nipples. His teeth nipped, his tongue caressed, his lips sucked, providing her with a landslide of pleasure that caused wetness to gush through her most intimated areas.

As she moaned with wild passion, she pressed her hips against his, rubbing his hardness with her softness. He growled at the feel of her wetness through the soft barrier of lace, and quickly tore that barrier away with a fierce desire that delighted her.

Not one to let him have all the fun, Bulma sat up and started ripping at his clothes to even things out. In her passion-glazed mind she could rip his silk shirt to threads and discard it onto the darkened floor, but she couldn’t quite manage the zipper of his pants. With a low snarl, Vegeta lifted himself away from her and ripped off his last shreds of clothing before returning to do wicked things to her body.

His mouth devoured her breasts as his hardness pressed against her inner thigh. Bulma writhed beneath him, her mind so delirious with passion that she couldn’t think straight, didn’t want to think straight, for what had to be the first time in her life. All rationality, the quality upon which she had most prided herself, had flown out the window, leaving only the pure truth of feeling. The feel of his lips, the feel of his heart beating in rhythm with hers, the feel of his body, pressing against hers with such passion and pride that it made her weak just knowing that their two bodies would soon merge into one being.

When their bodies joined … their souls would, too … forever.

This is it … From this moment on, we will be joined, forever …

A long-dead memory gripped her just as he plunged inside her warmth. She screamed, a combination of ecstasy and other-worldly discovery as their bodies and souls fused.

This has happened before … forever. And it will happen again … forever.

They had never really been apart … even beyond all the memories, beyond all the dreams, beyond the birth of time, their souls had been linked by a connection deeper than anything that any human had ever felt. A connection that had never died, that had outlived their mortal bodies and fallen into the depths of eternity.

Half a million lives passed before her eyes in a single moment. Half a million lives, half a million moments such as this, half a million chances to love this man …

Did he know? Did he know how he affected her? Did she affect him the same way? Was his love as strong as hers, that it could surpass death, surpass the gravity of time, to last forever?

As her soul swept away on a tide of passion, his body slamming against hers with such fervor, such love that she lost herself, lost him, lost everything for the sake of this moment, this moment that echoed the truth of eternity …

As she climaxed, watching half a million stars live and die in a single moment, her memories—all of them—returned.

All those memories, all those lives … gone.

Forever had been shattered beneath the weight of truth.

* * * * *