?<strong>Chapter 398:</strong>


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    Standing this close, he could clearly see her lips—red and inviting, a memory of past encounters flooding back to him. It was the part they both loved most when they lost control.


    The tension between them was palpable.


    Allison could feel something in Ken’s gaze—it was the look of a predator, intense, calcted, and utterly captivating.


    He had a way of drawing her in, making her forget her usual caution. It was rare for her to back down, but this time, she took two steps back.


    “Mr. Lloyd, why don’t you head out first? I’ll change, and we can meet at your family’s estateter,” she said lightly. There was something about the moonlit night that made her heart beat faster than usual. Maybe it was the thrill, or perhaps the tension between them, but she didn’t wait for Ken’s response. With a casual wave, she turned on her heel and walked away.


    As she walked, Allison felt a strange unease creep in.


    Something was off. Her mind kept wandering back to the image of Ken losing hisposure, breathless under her influence.


    “Am I losing it? Maybe it’s just stress,” she muttered to herself, shaking off the thought. She knew better than to let emotions get tangled in their arrangement.


    She could feel that she and Ken were cut from the same cloth; neither of them could be tied down. It was an unspoken agreement between them.


    Every time their encounters ended, they moved on as if nothing had happened.


    She knew that she had to push aside the thoughts that didn’t belong, to stop herself before she got in too deep.


    The sky darkened gradually, the shades of night deepening around them. Ken stood by the car, his tall figure bathed in moonlight, his gaze fixed on Allison’s distant silhouette. “Changing clothes?” he murmured.


    Ken’s dark eyes lingered on the moon, which was slowly being obscured by gathering clouds, signaling an impending storm.


    Yet, amidst thoughts of lightning and thunder, Ken was drawn back to a memory — a passionate kiss shared with Allison during a stormy night in the car. The rain had drummed against the windows like a vibrant symphony, heightening their senses and emotions within the confined space.


    When Allison emerged from the changing room, the venue had fallen into a quiet hush, illuminated only by the soft glow of streetlights guiding her way. She hadn’t walked far when she spotted Ken, still standing there, waiting for her.


    The warm yellow light from the streemps outlined his tall, impressive figure, his posture rxed yetmanding in the stillness of the night.


    Allison frowned slightly and asked, “Mr. Lloyd, you’re still here?”


    A glowing cigarette stub flickered and died in the darkness as Ken turned to face her.


    “Because I haven’t had the chance to congratte Ms. rke, our champion, Miss Sweety.”


    “Miss Sweety?” Allison was stunned, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at the yful nickname she had adopted, now spoken with a calm, yet tantalizing undertone by Ken. “Sweety” had been a spontaneous pseudonym, now inadvertently revealed by the man before her.


    Before the race, both had imed indifference to racing, yet they found themselves unexpectedly matched in skill, surprising even themselves.


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