After taking a shower, Wesley walked out of his own bedroom and knocked on Blair's door. For some reason, even after he had kept knocking for a long while, there was no response. He decided that she hadn't finished bathing yet and was still in the bathroom.

He fished out his phone to give Hartwell a call. 'The man must be sick with worry right now!' he thought. But right before he was about to press the big green button, he changed his mind and sent him a text message instead. He thought that Hartwell might be asleep at this time of the night. "Blair is home. She is okay. You can rest now."

Little did Wesley know that he was not the only one who had to suffer a drunk woman this evening. Hartwell himself was having quite a headache because of his drunken wife. In fact, he was in a double whammy since his day had been long and tiring at the office and now, Joslyn was drunk beyond the bounds of consciousness. When he received Wesley's message, he had just managed to coax Joslyn into falling asleep.

In no mood for a long discussion, he simply wrote, "Take good care of her."

"Sure."

Wesley pounced on the sofa, waiting for Blair to come out. Half an hour later, when he still didn't hear any sound from within her room, his face changed shade slightly. He walked over and knocked on the door again. Still no response.

He could feel that something was not right. 'It usually takes her forty minutes to bathe and a couple more than ten minutes to dry her hair. But she has been in the bathroom for almost seventy minutes now. Even for a drunk girl, that is too long.' He unlocked the door, and saw that she was not in the bedroom. What was worse, there was no sound coming from the bathroom. No running water, no nothing! Just an eerie silence.

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Blair?"

He called out her name several times, but she didn't make a sound. Finally getting too anxious to handle the pressure, Wesley pushed the door open and barged in.

It was both relieving and infuriating to see the woman inside, sound asleep with her head leaning against the bathtub. Her face was even redder than before because of the warm water, and she looked like she had been in that position for a long time now. Wesley immediately looked away when he saw her naked body. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down and called out with his face looking the other way, "Blair...Blair..."

She still did not make any response, so he had to go up and pat her face softly. Blair moved slightly, and the next moment, she slid down into the huge bathtub.

Luckily, before she could drown, Wesley pulled her out like a flash of lightning. He then grabbed a towel from the stand on the other side of the bathroom and wrapped it around her.

Only then did she wake up, most probably due to the sudden splash of water. In her sleepy and hazy state, she saw Wesley. She pulled out her arms from inside the towel and held him tightly. "Wesley..." she murmured in a slurred voice.

Her voice sounded super sexy even in this state, and her nudity wasn't helping. Wesley felt like he was going to explode with such a soft body in his arms.

He then began to stare at the wall behind her and tried to rinse the shower jell from her body. It was hard because the gel was everywhere and needed to be wiped with his hands.

After he was done, he carried her out of the bathroom and tried to lay her down. Blair was half sober now after the thorough rinse. "Wesley," she called out sleepily.

Wesley's private part was as hard as a rock by now, and he was trying very hard to not let anything happen. He feigned an annoyed tone and said, "Shut up!"

Now grief soared up in Blair's heart. Pursing her lips tight, she looked at him with her round doe eyes and sobbed in a puppy tone, "You yell at me! You must hate me." She then pouted.

Sighing in defeat, Wesley lay her on the bed softly and covered her with a blanket. Now with her naked body finally out of sight, he felt relieved and his voice softened. "No. I don't hate you. But you need to get some rest. I'm going to the bathroom to—"

Blair reached out her right arm and grabbed his hand, essentially cutting off both his path and his sentence. "No! You promised me you would sleep with me."

"I know! But I'm not leaving. I'm going to clean the bathroom. Why don't you put on your pajamas in the meanwhile?" He had never been this patient before.

"All right." Blair let go of him just as suddenly as she had grabbed him. But to his intense surprise, she suddenly sat up straight like a pole.

Her breasts popped out from under the blanket in front of Wesley's eyes once again. And his painfully calmed penis got erect once again.

Turning around, he closed his eyes and rubbed his arching eyebrows. What was he going to do with this woman? "Just put on your pajamas. I'm going to the bathroom." He tried to sound as calm as usual and hide his annoyance.

Blair, however, seemed to have made up her mind to seduce him and would not let him go so easily. "Wesley, can you please help me fetch my night gown and panties? Please!"

'Night gown and panties?' His voice became cold again as he refused, "No! You go get them yourself! I must clean the bathroom."

"All right." She paused and then continued in a seductive, child-like voice, "But my head is spinning. All right, forget it. I'll just sleep like this. It's time for bed anyway." After saying that, Blair slumped back down with a pained expression that was clearly fake.

Wesley really didn't know how to deal with her. "All right. Where are they?" he finally asked.

Blair almost chuckled and half sat up with her elbows. She pretended to be ignorant and told him, "Just go to the walk-in closet and find the wardrobe at the far end. You can just pick up any night gown. My panties are in the middle drawer. Again, just pick up any pair. I'm an easygoing person."

'Is she joking or what? She is an easygoing person? This is the funniest joke I've ever heard. Heck, I've never met such a troublesome person ever before in my life, ' Wesley thought.

He walked towards the walk-in closet. Blair wanted to follow after him, seducing him even more and hoping things got wild in the closet, but then decided against it. It sounded like too much effort. She really didn't have the energy to do so. 'Never mind. I'll just stay here and wait. He can bring them!'

Standing in the closet, Wesley suddenly had a rushing feeling in his heart that the woman outside might be teasing him.

But he had no other choice. Since he couldn't hurt her feelings, he gave in, took a deep breath, and randomly picked a night gown for her. Then he pulled out the drawer, and various kinds of panties popped up in front of his eyes, dazzling him; he felt like he couldn't breathe. He'd rather carry out the toughest mission the force had to offer than deal with a drunken Blair.

He even hesitated before he left the walk-in closet as he was afraid that she was going to torture him even more with some new methods. When he saw that she was lying in bed quietly, he secretly heaved a sigh of relief. Before she could notice his presence, he threw the clothes on the bed and then all but rushed for the bathroom.

Looking at the pink night gown and black panties which she thought were really sexy, Blair thought to herself, 'So he likes to see me dressed like this...'

Wesley emptied the bathtub, and cleaned up after her. But when he saw Blair's clothes in the basket, he was again at a loss for what to do. 'Should I pretend that I never saw them? Or should I put them into the washing machine?'

Finally, he could not let them just lie there, and a still-drunk Blair saw him walk out of the bathroom holding her dirty clothes. He was about to put them into the washing machine. However, she called out his name and stopped him.

She turned over on her stomach, making her curves on the back even more significant, and looked at him with a smile. "Some of my clothes must be washed by hands. Colonel Li, I've washed your clothes twice. Will you please help me wash mine today?"

Wesley's face twitched at her words. Wash her clothes by hands?

It was not that he didn't know how to do so. As a soldier, he almost always had to wash his clothes by himself. But Blair's underwear?

It was almost as if he were holding a hot potato; he didn't know whether he should just throw the darned clothes away or act like a bomb was in his hands.

Blair clearly saw Wesley's tanned face become red bit by bit. When he didn't respond, she rolled on the bed once more and murmured, "Ah, my head is killing me now. Colonel Li, please just do me this tiny favor. Please."

Wesley gave in once again, and under her watchful eyes, he walked out of the room. He put her outer clothes into the washing machine, added some laundry detergent and pressed the "start" button. Then, with her bra and panties in his hand, he walked back to her bathroom again without uttering a single word. Already a silent man, he looked even more taciturn now.

When she heard the running water in the bathroom, she smiled smugly and thought to herself, 'Humph!

It seems like he will do whatever I say when I'm drunk. This is a good opportunity. I should do this more often. I believe he'll surrender to me one day.'

The sound of the running water coming from within the bathroom stopped pretty soon, but Blair was in no mood to let him off so easily. She raised her voice and reminded him, "Wesley, women's panties need to be washed a little longer. Otherwise, we get sick."

Wesley didn't respond.

He really wanted to grab a gun and take as many pot shots at the clothes as possible.

Nevertheless, he turned on the tap once again. This time, he stayed in the bathroom for so long that Blair began to feel sleepy.

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