Espresso-x Novels & Stories

That’s what he deserves for being a big brute. He orders for the Iced Shaken Espresso, that is a simple mix of milk, espresso, and Starbucks simple syrup. It’s a sweetened drink with a very classic coffee flavor. It typically comes with 4 pumps of simple syrup, though to cut back on sugar you could ask your barista to use just 1 or 2 pumps instead and that’s what he does, he requests for two pumps of syrup, but I don’t always get it right. Sometimes, I get six or eight pumps of syrup in a cup of coffee, and he ends up spitting it out of his fucking mouth.

She puts the tray down on the desk and says: - You didn't tell me how you liked your coffee, so I bought Espresso, Americano, latte, macchiato, cappuccino, and mocha. - she says, pointing to each cup. Christopher smiled. - Well, you covered all the hypotheses. I stick with Americano. I hope it's sugar-free. – he says, taking the cup. - They are all unsweetened. Swap the sugar aside. - From now on, you can bring me Americano daily. When I want something else, I'll let you know. - he says with a smile.

With that, we walked to the counter. Before I voice my order, he says "Expresso, no cream, half cube". It's my taste but how did he know, then I console myself maybe he too has the same taste as me but he didn't order anything further. While waiting for the order. I felt his gaze on me. I don't know why he is trying to intimidate me with his creepy gaze.

Declan walked over to the Nespresso machine and popped in a capsule while Jonathon sat, slumped, on the barstool on one side of the kitchen island bench. Declan slid a shot of espresso in front of him and stood on the other side of the island, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growled. “You, arsehole,” Jonathon grumbled, not looking at his friend as he spun the small cup around in a circle on the counter.

My legs felt heavy, my heart heavier. "Here you go," Xavier handed me a steaming mug of espresso macchiato from Starbucks and an everything bagel. "Dig in." I sniffed, my hands shaking a little as I wrapped them around the mug, letting the warmth seep into my palms. I didn’t know what to say to Xavier. Honestly, I never really had. He and I never had those long conversations like Leo and I did. With Xavier, it was always different. He wasn’t the type to press or pry, just this quiet, steady presence that filled the room with reassurance without needing to speak.

to anyone who would listen. “Answer it anyway” Jade scrunched her nose adorably and I was instantly putty in her hands. “Alright fine, this time of year I get a venti white mocha with 2 pumps of apple brown sugar and 2 pumps of caramel.” “Oh, that sounds delicious.” Emma said, glancing up at Jade. “Yeah, that does sound delicious.” Jade nodded seriously. “So three larges?” I asked, pulling the car out of the garage. I’d wait to explain the incredibly odd sizing scale at Starbucks another time.

he asked her, challenging. Patrice glared at him before smiling fake. “Our Espresso is the best in town, Sir.” She replied politely. L nodded, happy that he had managed to piss her today. Wow. That is happiness for L these past few days. “Then I’ll take it.” He replied. “I’ll have your famous Espresso.” Patrice nodded and scribbled L’s order in her notebook with some curses beside it. “We’ll have Espresso as well.” The rest of the Infinite members ordered as well.

I could see the perspiration that gathered on his forehead and face, making him look even more adorable and gorgeous. “Ahh… I so love you, Xerra!” he whispered as he pumped my body. He bit his lower lip, hearing his heavy breaths. I let out a series of moans as I caressed his damp cheek. He turned his face to kiss my palm, a sweet gesture really. I smiled up at him and told him that I loved him, too. Then, he leaned down to kiss me on my lips, thrusting deeper, faster, and stronger. It went on and on for many dots until both of us burst into ecstasy.

“Excellent, I’ll expect it in five minutes.” He goes into his office and closes the door and I stand there wanting to scream, but instead I walk into his office and find the espresso machine which is this complicated chrome thing that looks like it belongs in a fancy Italian café. I spend ten minutes trying to figure out how to turn it on and where the water goes and how to load the beans, and when I finally bring him the cup he takes one sip and his expression tells me everything. “This is horrible “I followed the instructions—” “The beans need to be ground fresh for each cup, there’s a grinder in the cabinet, and the water temperature needs to be ninety-three degrees Celsius exactly.” He h

Standing on the marble counter was a brand-new, commercial-grade espresso machine. "Sit," Matteo said, gesturing to a sleek black stool by the island. I sat down, resting my chin in my hands. I watched him move around the kitchen. For a guy who probably ordered people to be wiped off the face of the earth, he was remarkably efficient at making coffee. He ground the beans, tamped them down, and steamed the milk without making a single unnecessary sound. He slid a tall, clear glass in front of me. It was an iced latte, complete with a perfect layer of foam on top.