CHAPTER 38: CHAPTER 38: PASSIONATE KISS

Zane Thorne placed the helmet in his hand on the car roof, then took the helmet from Natalie Vaughn’s hands and helped her put it on.

"Is it tight?"

"Not tight."

Her throat was dry, and Natalie licked her lips. The man’s slightly rough fingers brushed across her face.

Zane opened the car door, and Natalie got in. She had never sat in a race car before, knew nothing about it, and then she heard the man’s chuckle. He bent down and fastened her seatbelt for her.

The space inside wasn’t large, Zane’s hair prickled her face, and Natalie held her breath. The click of the belt seemed to fall on her heart.

"Thank you."

Her voice was like a cat’s, and Zane responded, getting up to leave. He didn’t pay much attention, and his lips brushed past Natalie’s face.

The man carried a fiery aura, yet his lips were cold. Even though the touch was brief, it was enough to short-circuit Natalie’s brain.

Natalie might talk like a rogue, but her experience was as clean as a blank sheet of paper, even her first kiss was untouched.

And now, with that brief moment, this blank page had been marked.

Zane was also momentarily stunned, obviously not expecting such a situation. Originally planning to apologize, seeing Natalie’s dazed expression, the man changed his mind.

He raised a hand to pinch the spot where his lips had brushed.

"Still quite tender."

Natalie: ...

Coming back to her senses, she lifted her eyelids to look at him. Now that they were close, Natalie noticed that Zane’s eyelashes were also very long. She reached out to push Zane away and cursed.

"Old pervert."

Zane stood outside the car, looking down at the blushing young girl inside. A laugh squeezed out of his chest, and he couldn’t help but rub his hand by his side, savoring the touch from just now.

Perhaps realizing being a bit too much, the man didn’t continue to tease Natalie. He closed her car door, then put on his gloves and helmet one by one.

Once Zane sat in the car, his demeanor shifted slightly again.

It was the boldness brought by talent and confidence. In terms of racing, he was the master. It was absolute conquest, easily controlling the entire situation.

Natalie watched him skillfully adjust various things inside the car, and suddenly a phrase that Felix Langdon had said came to mind.

It’s an honor to lose a race to Zane Thorne.

Zane looked sideways at her.

"Scared?"

Natalie shook her head.

"I’m not scared."

She heard the man chuckle.

Up ahead, someone waved a flag; Zane no longer looked at her and started the engine.

Racing cars were different from ordinary cars. The engine roared continuously, and the sound waves slowly grew higher, like a stormy night with the wind whistling through window crevices, battering and roaring as if to tear the body apart and free the soul.

The car body shook with the engine’s pulse, and Natalie instinctively grabbed the seatbelt. She turned her head to look at Zane beside her. The roaring engine and exhaust sounds seemed like a symphony playing for him. He looked like a warrior, focused on the road ahead, awaiting the signal.

The sunlight outside was bright, and she saw the dust rise in the air.

Natalie couldn’t recall how long she waited, but the engine’s continuous roar was about to burst her eardrums.

As the flag waved down, the car shot out like a wild horse off its tether. The seatbelt dug painfully into Natalie’s skin, making her frown. She opened her mouth, gasping for breath, steadying her heartbeat, involuntarily turning to look at the man beside her.

She couldn’t see Zane’s expression, but his hands firmly gripped the steering wheel with such poise. Controlling the wheel seemed effortless, like a mere game to him, skillfully handling it.

The raw intensity in him burst forth, unique to the racetrack. His fiery spirit heated the air inside the car, his foot pressing the accelerator to the floor, with the scenery outside flashing past rapidly.

Natalie couldn’t see anything clearly. Even at the bend, Zane didn’t slow down; he yanked the handbrake, the tires screeching against the road, violently turned the wheel inward, swinging into the curve, then suddenly reversed the wheel and shot out with the accelerator down.

At the first bend alone, they overtook several drivers.

With her vision blurred from the speed, it seemed too extreme for Natalie. She struggled to lift her eyelids to glance at Zane, barely noticing the corner of his lips curling into a smile.

Arrogant, audacious.

Natalie’s heart burned, her eyes even welled up.

It was like seeing Zane Thorne, the racer, during her third year of high school.

Sharply brilliant, unrestrained and rebellious.

Her heart pounded quickly.

The car was unstoppable, and some emotions deep within her threatened to burst forth, impossible to suppress.

The finish line lay at the mountaintop; Zane took first place effortlessly, pulling a significant lead. Even after five years without touching a race car, he remained the king of the track.

The man took off his helmet, tossing the gloves aside, and looked at the motionless Natalie.

"Are you okay?"

Natalie didn’t respond.

Zane frowned, leaning in closer.

He saw Natalie with wide eyes, staring ahead, her eyes misty, looking dumbfounded and silly.

"Did it scare you?"

Zane softened his voice, gently patting Natalie’s face.

Natalie finally came back to her senses, her chest heaving. She let out a long breath, looking at Zane.

"Damn, that was f*cking thrilling."

The shock, the exhilaration, the excitement—Natalie couldn’t help but curse.

Zane raised an eyebrow, reaching out to unfasten her seatbelt and remove her helmet.

"Young ladies shouldn’t use such language."

Natalie curved her lips into a smile.

"I learned from you."

The man’s hand paused, lifting his eyes to give her a long look, then brushed aside the hair by her mouth.

"Pretty bold."

Even after experiencing his driving, she could still joke around.

Zane’s hands were somewhat rough, and their touch on her face was a bit ticklish, like a feeling growing anew in her heart.

Natalie quickly became aware of this unfamiliar emotion, but she temporarily couldn’t define what it was.

Was it the heartbeat after the race? The excitement of witnessing Zane’s driving skills? Or was it infatuation?

She wasn’t sure.

She saw the stubble on Zane’s chin, saw his seductive thin lips, and obeying an inner impulse, Natalie raised a hand to hold Zane’s face, then leaned in to bite his lips.

Zane’s eyes instantly grew dark and deep.

Natalie didn’t notice, even sticking out her tongue to lick them.

There wasn’t really any feeling, apart from the coolness and softness, Natalie hardly experienced the taste of a kiss.

She pulled back, pursed her lips, and rubbed the spot she had just kissed.

"You’re quite tender too."

Zane: ...

"Natalie."

The man’s voice was hoarse, eyes filled with some unknown emotion as he gazed at her.

Natalie provocatively glanced at him.

"So it’s okay for a statesman to set fire but not for commoners to light a lamp?"

Zane held onto her gaze, seeing her brazen, seeing her wildness, then suddenly chuckled.

The lips that Natalie had kissed and rubbed were as red as fire.

Enticing yet dangerous.

"With you being so naughty, how should I indulge you?"

Natalie’s heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?"

The man merely smirked, then reaching out, he pinched Natalie’s chin, leaned down, and fiercely bit her lips.

He didn’t hold back, causing Natalie to open her mouth in pain, whereupon the man took the opportunity to kiss her deeply.

The gates caught fire, and defenses were gradually breached.