Peyton Coffee Hot Novels & Stories

The relaxing atmosphere of the cafe lulls me into a calm I haven’t felt today. “They have used ones?” I nod. She eyes the ones on sale while I nudge the burrito and coffee toward her. “It’s called Miracle Pill.” I pointed to the cup of iced coffee. She eyed mine. “It’s the same, but mine’s hot. Instant energy, trust me.” I blow on the steam on my cup. Sure that it won’t cool it down but do it out of habit. She takes a bite of the giant burrito and proceeds to scarf it down.

" Sasha answered, like an obedient child. "I heard that the beverages in Starbucks are not bad. What about peach tea latte?" Clearly, Woody was rubbing it in. "That sounds great!"

Tiffany kept her head down, clutching the tray of coffees like a holy relic. "Delivery for the penthouse suite," Tiffany said, pitching her voice an octave lower as she reached the security desk. The guard didn't even look up from his monitor. "Name?" "Uh, Ravencourt. It’s a standing order." The guard paused, his brow furrowing. "Mr. Ravencourt doesn't drink iced lattes. He drinks black coffee. Hot, from a specific bean in Ethiopia that costs more than my car." Tiffany didn't miss a beat. "It’s for the guests. Big meeting. You want to be the guy who makes the board of directors wait for their caffeine fix?"

In fact, the smile on his face remained unchanged as he said, “No rush. Since the both of you are already here, why don’t you take a seat and have a cup of coffee? I’ve just imported some high-quality Tanzanian peaberry coffee beans.” Zayn was extremely calm and showed no sign of fear or anxiety as he smiled at the two of them. Anyone would have thought he was merely entertaining his friends.

Wayne drew her into his arms, resting his chin on her head and gently stroking her mane. “Shhh…it’s alright. You did the right thing,” he said over and over again, drumming the words into her mind. *** That afternoon, Pepper went to the pantry to make yet another cup of coffee for her impossibly hard to please boss. This was the fifth cup she was making, Daniel had flat out rejected the ones that she made before. The first was ‘TOO HOT! Are you trying to kill me?’ The second was ‘TOO COLD! What is this? Antarctica??’

I ask, sitting back in the booth. "Probably blue, you?" "Mint Green" I smile. "Favorite ice cream?" he questions, sipping his drink the waiter brought. "Cookie dough, you?" "Chocolate" he grins. "Maybe like a chocolate and vanilla twist" "Interesting" before i can ask another question, the waiter comes over to get our order. We tell her what we want, and she steps away to go place our order. Looking at Peyton, his black curly hair is getting longer than before. It's a nice length.

"But there's really nothing wrong with my factory, Mr. Yale." Hunter ignored her. He simply put down his cup of coffee while smiling. He got up and picked up the coffee in front of Celena and said with great pity, "It's a shame this coffee is wasted. It's a blend that I've treasured for a long time. I thought you liked tea as well."

He handed Caleb a cup of hot chocolate, and the latter glowered at him, “Do you perceive me as a kid? Tsk, I said I want coffee,” “Caffeine is not good for you, kiddo,” Cohen flicked his finger on Caleb’s forehead. Caleb growled and smacked his head with the paper he was holding. “Tsk, that hurts!” Cohen complained. Caleb was about to hit him again, but a woman arrived from behind Cohen.

Malea's POV "I need a large coffee. Black, no cream, no sugar, brewed to 202 degrees Farenhieght." I handed over the 50 dollar bill that Lucian provided every time I bought him coffee and spun around to take a seat at a booth while the coffee brewed.

He definitely was bossy with Sam, his housemate. "Cream, no sugar." "Where is it?" "Around the corner to the right. You'll find it." Funny, but I might have the flip side of the same fetish because it turns me on to fetch his coffee. Grateful for the expenditure of the manic energy that's ruling me, I slip out of his office and make the coffee. It's freshly ground beans from peet's and there's real half and half in the fridge below. I make myself a cup too, and head back, just as his secretary arrives. If looks could kill, I'd be twenty pieces on the floor. "Don't worry about his coffee," I say breezily.