But no. She had taken this leap, and now she was standing at the end of a long hallway on his second floor.
He pointed out rooms as they wandered down the long stretch of thick carpet. Finally he stopped, opened a set of double doors, and led her into what had to be the master bedroom.
The room was bigger than her entire apartment and incredibly inviting for a bachelor. The bed was king-size and four-posted. The comforter was thick and fluffy and deep navy. She wondered if the sheets under it were also navy.
She roamed around his space, taking in his personality.
He blew that out of the water two seconds later when he announced, "My sister and my mom did the decorating. I have no sense of style."
She nodded, rounding the corner to step into his master bath. Then she stopped dead.
Holy shit. It was obscene. Every possible convenience known to man was crammed into that space. No. Crammed wasn't a word that would describe his bathroom. It was so damn large there was plenty of space. She thought for a moment of that song by Nickelback about a bathroom he could play baseball in.
She was standing in that bathroom. How fitting.
The floor was shiny black tile, and the vanity was black granite. The cabinets were a contrasting white. Her gaze darted to the oversized tub, causing her to hear the lyrics to that same song in her head. It was practically big enough for ten plus one. She didn't see the shower, but she realized it was behind the tile wall. The sort of shower with no glass door. A walk-in.
She fought to keep from drooling. Then she inched closer to verify the tub indeed had jets.
She was in love.
"I could fill it if you want?" Dominic's deep voice sent goose bumps up her spine.
She twisted around to face him. "Nah. It would look kinda funny if we returned downstairs with my hair wet."
"You could stay up here. I'll tell everyone you felt sick and went home." He lifted a brow, a half smile accompanying it.
My God, he was tempting. Not just the idea of lounging in his tub, but the thought of running her hands over his chest and pressing her naked self against him. She licked her lips, letting her gaze wander up and down his torso.
What the hell was up with her tonight? She'd never been this feisty before. Never so openly flirted with a man. Never considered the possibility of fucking someone she met two hours ago.
But Dominic was her dream guy. At least visually. Who knew what he was really like in his heart, but for now, he was simply the most amazing eye candy. Exactly what she needed after finally putting an end to her crappy relationship with Luke. Dominic Cordes was the polar opposite of Luke Vandergriff. Where Luke was lanky, blond, and preppy, Dominic was rugged with dark hair and a trimmed beard. He stood a foot taller, was muscular, and had the dark skin of a man who spent a lot of time in the sun.
Dominic had an infectious smile, and damn if he didn't look at Lily as though he wanted to devour her. Never had Luke looked at her like that. Why the hell had she wasted so much time with him?
Dominic stood in the doorway to the bathroom, grasping the doorframe at the top and leaning his enormous body forward. His delicious pecs stretched his designer T-shirt tight over his chest, accentuating his muscles. His jeans probably cost over a hundred dollars, and they were worth every cent.
His hair was a little long. Wavy. Swept haphazardly so that a curl hung over his forehead.
Then there was the beard. Ordinarily she didn't find beards attractive, but Dominic's was perfectly groomed. Not hanging so long that a meal could get lost in it but cropped short, making him look scruffy.
"How old are you?" she asked as she sauntered toward him, taking careful steps to ensure she didn't trip over her rubber legs.
"Why? Does it matter? I'm legal, if that's what you mean. I have a high school diploma."
She hesitated, cringing inside. She'd graduated from high school sixteen years ago. It wasn't even on her radar anymore. She hadn't referred to anything in relation to her graduation in a decade.
Fuck.
"Come here." He didn't move, continuing to hold himself up casually by the doorframe.
She lifted a brow. Her feet kept inching forward, though. And she was suddenly sorry she wore the heels. She was normally quite confident in heels. She wore them nearly every day at the gallery. But tonight …
She glanced at her watch. How long had they been gone?
"Don't worry about the time. No one's looking for us."
That was untrue. Zia wouldn't have stopped worrying about her from the moment she left the room. But she also knew Zia wouldn't go wandering around the man's house in search of her friend.