A crack about his age, she was feeling feisty. “I think I’ll stick with my Dewar’s,” Ben said mirroring Lane’s salute.

“Suit yourself, counselor, but there’s nothing quite like a little sour mash whiskey to clear the cob webs after a tense afternoon.”  Lane downed the rest of the smooth brown liquid and raised the empty glass and waived it in Duke’s direction.

So much for relieving her tension, it appeared that the Royal Captain Jack would do that for tonight.

They ordered steak, baked potatoes, and salads.

Lane had another drink.

“You know counselor, couldn’t it be considered a conflict of interest fraternizing this way with a client.”  Lane leaned across the table moving into as close to a prone position as she could get while being held upright by the table and she started stroking Ben’s hand.

“I suppose it could be my loop hole though.  If we go to court and your winning streak ends.  Couldn’t a new attorney claim that you and I were sleeping together and get a mistrial declared or something?”  Lane laid her head on her right arm, which was stretched out across the table.

“That’s it.  Consider yourself officially cut off for the night.”  Ben reached over and moved her drink away.  Sleeping together, he thought, I wish.

“Duke, see if it’s too late to cancel our order.  If it is too late to cancel, tell the kitchen to put it in a box.”

Duke sent word to the kitchen and a waiter returned with a bag.  Duke brought the check. Ben signed it.

“Thanks, Duke.”

“No problem, Ben.  Looks like you’d better get her home.”

Ben sat in the booth next to Lane.  “Can you walk?”

“What do you mean, can I walk.  I’m fine.  Perfectly fine,” Lane slurred indignantly as she poked Ben’s chest with her index finger.  Ben slid out of the booth and helped Lane stand up.  She stood for about three seconds before she started to sway.  Ben caught her as she started to swoon.

“You know, I don’t feel so good,” She said as she closed her eyes.

Ben put his arm around her, picked the bag up with the other hand and slowly maneuvered her out through the door.

She leaned her head against his chest.  “You’re so good to me, Ben.  Why are you so good to me?”

He unlocked the car and poured her into the front seat fastening her seatbelt securely before he closed the door.  “Because I love you, Red.  Because I love you,” he said as he walked around the car.  He got in and started the engine.

“It’s a good thing that you live close,” Ben mumbled to himself.  Lane had fallen asleep.

He parked in the drive, got out, and tapped in the code to open the garage before walking back to the car.  He bent down, picked her up, and carried her to her bed.  He began undressing her.  She stirred and pulled him close to her.  She kissed him, purred his name, and was fast asleep again.  Ben got her down to her underwear and pulled the covers over her.  Again, she stirred, pulled him close, and kissed him. He freed her hair from the braid she’d put it in that morning.

“Don’t go.”  She said as she patted the bed next to her.

“You’re not going to remember any of this in the morning.”

“Remember what,” she moaned as she moved toward the middle of the bed.  “Don’t leave me,” she said as she tugged on his hand.

“All right, let me get my clothes off,” he sighed as he reached for the light switch next to the bed.  He undressed down to his boxers and slid into bed next to her.  She curled next to him and put her head on his shoulder.  She was moaning and running her fingers through his chest hair.  That moaning alone was going to be the death of him.

“God help me,” he mumbled.  Ben couldn’t count the number of times he’d thought about being in bed with Lane.  Kissing her, making love to her as she screamed his name completely overcome with orgasmic pleasure. He stroked her cheek, leaned over, and kissed the top of her head.  They’d been together as a couple for two months, and while no one before would have ever called Ben a slow mover, he didn’t want to rush things and was letting Lane set the pace for their sexual relationship.  Besides, there were rules, and having sex with a woman who was too drunk to remember it was a definite violation.  But, God, that moaning.  It was her moaning while she slept that had sent him over the edge two months ago.

“Red, you need to go to sleep now.”

She continued moaning, and had begun kissing his chest, slowly working her way to his shoulder and neck as she rhythmically rubbed her pelvis against his leg.  When the day finally came for Ben to make love to her, he sure as hell wanted her to be sober, in full and complete control of her faculties and not only able to enjoy it but to remember it.

He ran his fingers through her hair.  “Lane, honey, you really need to stop and go to sleep now.  Okay?”

“Mmmm, okay, if that’s what you want,” she moaned as she passed out.

“Thank-you, Lord,” he said as he threw the covers off.  He got up and walked to the bathroom, opened the shower doors, and turned on the water.  He needed a cold shower.

She had told him once that she had a tendency to get what she called friendly when she was drunk.  This was the first time he’d seen it.  He couldn’t remember ever seeing her drunk in the three years he’d known her.  He’d only seen her imbibe too much once.  That was last summer at his house.  She’d had a little too much sun, a margarita that was a little too heavy on the tequila and not enough to eat.  She had told him she really didn’t drink tequila, but he’d gotten her to have a margarita with the chips and salsa anyway. The tequila had snuck up on her.  He’d made her sleep in one of his guest rooms.

He stood under the cold spray and debated whether he should stay or go home.  On the one hand, he was reasonably certain she wasn’t going to remember any of this in the morning.  On the other hand, she might remember that he’d been there and he really didn’t want her to wake up in the morning and wonder what had happened to him.  Besides that, he would really like to get a BC into her.  He was sure she’d thank him in the morning.

He finished his shower and went back into the bedroom.  Lane was curled up on the left side of the bed.  He decided not to wake her, and positioned his six foot four inch frame on the chaise lounge near the fireplace.  Lord help him.  The last time he looked at the clock it was 3:00 a.m.

Chapter 6

Why do they call it hump day

The sound of his phone alarm woke Ben at 5:30 a.m. He dressed and quietly walked to the bed.  He reached out with his right hand and stroked Lane’s cheek as he bent to kiss the top of her head.  She opened one eye and squinted at him.

“Red, I’m leaving now.  I have to go home, workout and shower.  I have an appointment at 9:00 a.m.”

He handed her a bottle of water and the BC Powder he’d put on the nightstand the night before.  “Here, take this and go back to sleep.  I’ll call you around 8:00 a.m. to make sure you’re awake.”

Lane was silent as she obediently poured the white powder on her tongue and chased it with water.  She lay back down and closed her eyes.  Ben kissed her forehead and left; he drove the few blocks to his house.  He changed and went out for his run.  It was his usual morning routine.  In the summer, he got up at 5:30 a.m., ran five miles, swam 50 laps, did his strength training workout, showered, dressed, had a protein shake, and drove to his office in downtown Kansas City.  He was always in the office no later than seven-thirty, often earlier if he was preparing for a trial.  He was running a little late this morning, so he skipped the swim.

He hadn’t been in the office since yesterday morning because he’d gone straight from court to the Leawood police station.  He glanced at the clock as he pulled into the parking lot.  It was 7:45. He’d promised to call Lane around 8:00 a.m. and he wanted to talk to Mickey before his appointment.  He parked the car and instead of taking the stairs to his office on the ninth floor, he took the elevator to save time.