“Open the door,” Brock said calmly, way too calmly.

I shook my head. “You can leave.”

“Jillian.”

“I think you need to leave,” I said this time.

“Open the goddamn door or I will fucking break it down.”

Well then.

Casting my gaze to the ceiling, I let out a ripe curse and then unlocked the bathroom door, because I didn’t put it past him to do it. “Better?” I shot back.

Brock stared at me, his jaw working, and damn it all to hell, he looked so rumpled and sexy with his hair nearly standing up and one tail of his shirt hanging loose. “Were you completely unaware of what you were doing last night? I need you to be honest with me, Jillian. Did you have no idea what you were doing?”

Part of me wanted to say that I was, but that wasn’t completely true. I’d been aware. I woke up from a dream and I’d wanted him, and he was there and . . .

“I knew you were buzzed, but I had no idea you were that—”

“I wasn’t that drunk,” I whispered, knowing I could never let him believe he somehow took advantage of the situation when he hadn’t, just to save face. “I knew what was happening, but I . . . I just wasn’t thinking. I knew. Honest.”

His eyes searched mine as some of the tension eased out of his shoulders. “Now I want you to listen me and I want you to listen real good. If you think for a second I can go around and pretend that I didn’t have my fingers in you and you didn’t come all around them, you have another thing coming.”

“Oh my God!” Horrified, I pressed my hands to my cheeks. “Can you not be any cruder?”

“Crude?” He smirked as he leaned against the door jamb, effectively trapping me in the bathroom. He crossed his arms. “You sure as hell didn’t have a problem fucking my hand last night—”

“I was drunk. Like, I thought I was still sleeping,” I argued.

“So do you normally dream of me then?”

My nostrils flared as I inhaled deeply and counted to five. “I do not dream about you.”

A smug half-grin appeared on his face, and I wanted to smack it off. “Yeah, I’m going to have to call bullshit on that.”

“You can call bullshit on your face for all I care,” I fired back, and his brows flew up. That sounded lame to my own ears. “The point is, I didn’t mean for that to happen last night and it shouldn’t have.”

A muscle flexed along Brock’s jaw as he eyed me. “I know you didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. And maybe it shouldn’t have happened like that, but it did.”