Todos os capítulos de TOUCH ME MORE, DADDY: Capítulo 141 - Capítulo 150

Chapter One The Man Upstairs The music started just after nine. I had been sitting on the couch with my laptop balanced on my knees, the only light coming from the screen and the small lamp in the corner. The document in front of me was almost finished clean paragraphs, careful margins, the kind of quiet progress that usually settled my mind. Then the bass began bleeding through the ceiling in heavy, uneven waves, followed by the sharp crack of something glass hitting the floor above. I stared at the ceiling as if it might offer an explanation. The apartment upstairs had been empty for nearly two months. The landlord had mentioned a new tenant in passing, but I had filed the information away with the rest of the building’s minor inconveniences. Now the inconvenience had a volume level and a clear disregard for the hour. Another thud sounded, then laughter low, rough, unmistakably male. I closed the laptop. The hallway smelled of old carpet and someone’s distant cooking. I

Chapter ThreeThe AlmostThe power died just after eight, with no warning and no storm to blame.One moment the lamp beside the couch threw its usual soft circle of light across my notebook; the next, the entire building dropped into a thick, sudden dark. The refrigerator’s hum vanished. The distant traffic outside seemed louder without the buffer of electricity. I sat still for a few seconds, waiting for the familiar flicker of return, before accepting that this outage intended to stay.I found the candles by memory two in the kitchen drawer, one on the bookshelf, a fourth already half-melted from some previous failure of the grid. Matches scraped. Flames caught. The apartment settled into low gold and long shadows. I had just poured a glass of water when the knock came at my door.Cassian stood in the hallway holding a half-empty bottle of red wine and a cheap lighter, the glow from my candles reaching just far enough to catch the edges of his face.“Whole building’s out,” he said.

Chapter FiveThe DrunkardThe knock came just after ten.I knew it was him before I opened the door. The building had a particular silence at that hour, and his presence had always announced itself in the way the air shifted. When I turned the lock and pulled the door open, Cassian stood in the hallway with his hands loose at his sides and no bottle in sight. The cut above his eyebrow had begun to heal into a darker bruise. His eyes were clearer than they had been in the rain, but the faint scent of whiskey still clung to him less a flood than a residual heat.“I tried,” he said. No greeting. No crooked deflection. “Two days of trying. I can’t stay away from you. I’m done pretending I can.”The words landed with the weight of every unfinished moment that had come before them. The power outage. The almost-kiss. The confession against my kitchen counter. Frustration and want rose together so sharply I felt them in my teeth.“You don’t get to keep doing this,” I said. My voice stayed low

Chapter Two(Lily’s POV)Morning light slipped through the half-closed blinds in thin, pale stripes, landing across the empty side of the bed like an accusation.I had barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes I saw his face in the living room those soft, pleading eyes, the way his hand had reached for me and then dropped when I told him not to. The locked door between us had felt like the only solid thing left in the apartment, and even that hadn’t stopped the sound of him moving around outside. I’d heard the low creak of the couch, the quiet clink of a glass, the long silence that meant he was sitting there in the dark thinking about what to say next.Now the apartment was too quiet.I sat up slowly, the hoodie still wrapped around me, the same one I’d fallen asleep in. It still smelled like him. I hated that it comforted me. I hated that my body had spent half the night curling toward the empty space beside me like it was looking for his warmth.The bedroom door was still locked.I

Chapter Four(Lily’s POV)Night settled over the apartment like a held breath.I had stayed in the bedroom for hours, door locked, lights off, phone face-down on the nightstand so I wouldn’t be tempted to check if he had texted. The taste of his mouth still lingered. Every time I shifted on the bed I felt the ghost of his hands on my waist, the press of his thigh between mine, the way my body had arched into him like it had been starving for exactly that.I hated how much I still wanted him.Around midnight the silence became unbearable. I unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway barefoot, wearing only one of his old T-shirts that fell mid-thigh. The living room was dark except for the city glow leaking through the blinds. Raymond was still on the couch, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, head bowed. He looked up the second he heard me.His eyes found mine across the room and something in them broke open.“I told you to stay away,” I said, but the words came out thinn