Page 50 of The Billionaire's Pawfect Match

I catch the waiter’s attention, my fingers tapping against the table. “Can we have the check, please?” The words are out before I can second-guess the urgency in my voice.

Emily watches me, a knowing smile curving her lips. There’s an unspoken promise in her gaze, one that sends heat coursing through my veins. The thought of touching her, here, in thisupscale restaurant is both tempting and forbidden. I fear that if I were to do more than graze her hand, though, I might not be able to stop. I have to get us out of here.

The check arrives. I don’t even glance at the total before my card is on the tray, my signature scribbled hastily. Everything feels like it’s moving too slowly, the seconds stretching out as I fight the impulse to pull her close.

“Ready?” I ask, already standing, my chair scraping against the floor.

“Very,” she says, her hand sliding into mine as we walk towards the exit.

It’s agony splitting apart briefly so that she can take her car back to my place, and I’m leaning forward as I drive to the penthouse, clutching the wheel, trying to not put the pedal to the metal.

We park next to each other in the private deck, and I can’t wait any longer. Wrapping my arms around Emily’s waist, I back her against her car and claim her mouth with my own. Her body melds against mine, our heat searing through the thin fabric of our clothing. Her hands rake up my chest, fingers threading their way into my hair to pull me deeper into the kiss. The world becomes unimportant; nothing matters but her lips and her taste — intoxicatingly sweet with a hint of spice. I want more.

Emily breaks the kiss first, gasping for air, her chest heaving against mine. Her touch is like lightning running wild through my veins, a raw magnetic pull that draws me closer. “We should… get inside,” she says between ragged breaths.

“Yes,” I concur, reluctant to let go of her.

The doorman greets us with a nod as we step inside the building. I barely register his presence — my focus is entirely on Emily, on the anticipation that vibrates between us.

The elevator doors close, and it’s just us again. She turns to me, her hands finding their way to my chest, and pulls me down to her.

Our lips meet, and propriety shatters. Every kiss is a revelation, a desperate claiming of moments we’ve lost to hesitation. The elevator dings at my floor, but neither of us is ready to part.

It’s a messy, beautiful tangle of limbs and longing as we stumble from the elevator to my apartment door. My key slides into the lock, and we’re inside, the city lights casting a soft glow through the windows.

“Isaac,” she breathes against my lips, and the sound of my name on her tongue is all it takes.

I’m home.

CHAPTER 24

EMILY

My eyes flutter open, but something is off. Something is different.

It’s the feel of the sheets, the weight on the mattress next to me.

And then I remember. I’m not in my bed at the apartment I share with Jenn. I’m in Isaac’s bed, where I fell asleep with him, tangled in his arms, my heart full to the brim.

“Morning,” Isaac murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. I lift my head, meeting his sleepy smile with one of my own.

“Morning,” I echo, rolling over and settling into the cocoon of his arms.

His hand trails up my back, light as a feather, stirring the air between us with electricity. We’re in a bubble, untouched by the world outside. The laughter comes easily, blooming from a place of pure joy as we exchange teasing kisses that promise more but ask for nothing.

Time is a thief, stealing moments like these, turning minutes into memories before we’re ready to let them go. I hold on to Isaac a little tighter, wishing I could stop the clock. He responds, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us, our giggles muffled against each other’s skin.

The door creaks open, and the bed dips unexpectedly as Baxter, all eager paws and wagging tail, jumps onto it. He pushes his way between us, panting in excitement.

“And there goes our peace,” Isaac chuckles, untangling himself to accommodate the excited bundle of fur now wedged between us.

“Looks like someone needs to go out,” I say.

Baxter’s ears perk up at the word. Yes, he most definitely needs to go out.

Isaac’s phone buzzes on the nightstand, an intrusive sound that breaks the last remnants of our early morning tranquility. A glance at the caller ID, and his brow creases slightly — it’s Carol. Work beckons, even as we linger in the warmth of the sheets.

“Go ahead, take it,” I smile, brushing a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll take Baxter out.”

---