Hank had been on the heels of a woman for almost months, one he himself proclaimed the most beautiful he had ever seen in his life – and hard to get, her little game was driving him crazy, as well as determined to make her his.

At the last rodeo in town, the cowboy ended up drinking too much, barely remembering the things he had done, or the flirtations he had made with that woman... The next morning, Hank woke up with the sun's rays hitting his face through the half-open curtain. The man grumbled slightly, rubbing his eyes as he felt the hangover.

The cowboy looked at his bedside table to see the time. Still 7 in the morning. Groggy from sleep, he stared at his boots in the corner of the door for a few seconds before finally looking the other way. The woman.

That woman, lying with her back to him, with her hair spread across the pillow. That was a dream, a mirage because of the alcohol. Hank peeked under the covers, noticing the lack of her pants and a bra hanging on the end of the bed.

Holy crap.

The cowboy wanted to jump, scream, celebrate! But first, he tried to remember the night before, without much success, and second, he moved in bed and hugged her from behind, smelling her hair before placing small kisses along her shoulder and neck, his calloused hands running over the curves under the blanket. Happy, holy shit he was so happy.

"Good morning, dollface... did you sleep well?"