Peyton Coffee Hot Novels & Stories

And I usually pride myself on being good at that sort of thing. “Welcome to our café,” she says warmly. “What kind of coffee would you like?” She hands me a menu listing different coffee beans. I barely glance at it. “Black, please.” She smiles patiently. “And which beans would you like?” I hesitate. Most of the names mean nothing to me, but two stand out—Sumatran Mandheling and Yirgacheffe Ethiopian. I pick one at random, and she nods approvingly before disappearing behind the counter.

Normally I would rush over there to help anyway, but today I decide to indulge a little. Sure, the coffee at Layla Vous was great and there was a lot of froufrou offerings and even the classic black coffee was good, but I loved basic coffee with just a couple drops of peppermint extract. It was simple and delicious. Could I have made that at the café? Sure, but I knew I had everything for it right here.

The silence Tyler employed as a punctuation. There was a little scratch against the morning’s silence. Perry propped himself on the counter. “Can we go now We’re already late.” “You’re not late. You’re early enough to argue.” Tyler snorted. Peter filled three mugs with hot water, same mugs, same order, every morning. No one had told him about their wants and needs. He had just noticed. Bryan preferred his tea weak, nearly clear. Perry liked his hot, too hot with too much honey. Tyler had his black, no sugar, like someone a couple of generations older.

Katherine handed Page her cup of coffee as she got into the car beside her. A waft of its sweet aroma danced around her nostrils, causing her to beam. What would I do without her, she smiled. In her hand was exactly what she needed. A cup of Nitro cold brew. She had made it a venti with sugar-free vanilla syrup, mocha sauce, an extra splash of oat milk, caramel sauce-lined cup, three shots of blonde espresso roast, cinammon powder on top with no whipped cream. Page was stressed and Katherine knew that at that time of the day, the higher Page's stress, the more caffeinated her drinks had to be.

"But I'll love you even more if you bring that Verdanian coffee I like." I paused dramatically before continuing my desperate plea. "Nate hid all the coffee in the house and only lets me have one cup a day, Zoey. You know who I am without coffee. It's inhumane. Bring coffee, Zoey. For the love of God, bring coffee." Zoey was laughing so hard she could barely speak. "Relax, addict," she said between laughs. "I'll see what I can do. Maybe I can smuggle in a few capsules of your favorite kind."

“Kenny’s sitting outside Starbucks. He’s in a red hoodie, over.” “Copy, over.” I guided my truck to the spaces across from the coffee store and parked far enough away that I’d be somewhat obscured. As I climbed out of the cab and locked the doors, my eyes caught a glimpse of someone very familiar. My heart stuttered momentarily as I closed my eyes and opened them again to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. Payton was walking out the south door, one hand holding a grande coffee, the other her cell phone and purse. Her long, straight hair was pulled into a ponytail and she wore jeans, knee-high boots and a tight, cream turtleneck sweater that did incredible things for her tits

“What can I get for you?” The group quickly huddled together, throwing orders in whispers at one another. “I want a cappuccino.” “No.” “Why?” “Because, Miles, one drop of caffeine turns you into a demon.” “Their chocolate muffins look good,” Wyatt stuck his head above the crowd. “Black coffee,” Ryder thought out loud. “No, black tea.” “Iced Americano for sure,” Blake nodded too. “Oh, but I want something with vanilla--” “It does not!” Miles jabbed a finger into August’s chest. “I am immune to caffeine.”

“Yvette said you should come home tonight, and I’m free, so we can go back together after work.” Mark responded, his Adam’s apple rolling up and down. He then asked his secretary to bring her a cup of Blue Mountain coffee. Raine’s favorite coffee is the Blue Mountain coffee; it was really bitter, as she did not like sweet drinks, only bitter ones. Then the phone beeped. Raine saw the man behind the desk pick up his phone and open the text message. She did not know what it said but there was a soft smile on his face. So gentle and sweet.

Her hands shaking, she powered it on. The low hum of the machine whirred to life, a small, welcome sound that broke the oppressive silence. "What... what kind do you want? Americano? Latte? Mocha?" She tried to keep him talking, to divert his attention. "Mocha. Double sugar." This time, his reply was surprisingly swift. "Okay, a mocha... hot or iced?" "Hot." As the rich aroma of brewing coffee filled the room, Prisley carefully extended the mug. "Here's your coffee. Be careful, it's still quite hot."

Brielle said. " Oh " Layla muttered and then nodded. She collected the coffee back from her and Brielle walked back in, closing the door. " Where's the coffee? " She heard Shane ask Brielle. " She got you a cold coffee, I guess she wasn't aware you'd always liked your coffee hot " Brielle replied. " Oh " Shane muttered. Layla let out a sigh before walking away back to where she got the coffee from. " He'd always loved his coffee hot? How come I'm not aware " She thought as she walked away.