Captain Beatty Physical Description Novels & Stories

And the officer was always aware of the tramp of the company behind, the march of his orderly among the men. The Captain was a tall man of about forty, grey at the temples. He had a handsome, finely knit figure, and was one of the best horsemen in the West. His orderly, having to rub him down, admired the amazing riding-muscles of his loins. For the rest, the orderly scarcely noticed the officer any more than he noticed himself. It was rarely he saw his master’s face: he did not look at it. The Captain had reddish-brown, stilt hair, that he wore short upon his skull. His moustache was also cut short and bristly over a full, brutal mouth. His face was rather rugged, the cheeks thin. Perhaps t

"What did he look like?" Gates closed his eyes, clearly trying to remember. "Tall. Maybe six-one, six-two. Thin build, not particularly muscular. Dark hair, I think—hard to tell with the cap. Clean-shaven. White guy, maybe late twenties or early thirties. He had this... nervous energy. Like he was scared of being caught." I exchanged glances with Renan, who'd been standing quietly by the door. That description didn't match Roy Hunter—Roy was taller, stockier, with brown hair. Didn't match Pius either, who was older with distinguished silver hair.

Anderson rolled his eyes, "fuck off!" "Is he the best you've got?" She arched a brow, staring in high skepticism at the man who looked like he's never been to the gym in his life. Considering the type of job he did, Suzy didn't expect to find anyone with his physique. He was skinny and barely had any visible muscles. The one beside him had a better physique, he was built and his chest popped massively from the ripped shirt he had on. His look was promising but she couldn't say the same for his partner. "He's good for stunts. And can jump out of any moving vehicle unscathed," the captain assured.

He turned and started walking toward the shop. “Could he be coming here?” I wondered, my pulse quickening. “God, I hope so.” As he crossed the street, I finally got a clear look at him. He was at least six foot four, with a bushy beard, a muscular build, and just the beginnings of a beer belly. His tight jeans emphasized his small waist and revealed a massive bulge in the front. My cóck stirred as I tried not to stare too blatantly.

Then, for a moment, the alcohol haze parted just enough for me to get a clearer look at him. He was tall — easily over six feet — with a powerful, broad-shouldered build that spoke of quiet strength rather than gym vanity. Late forties, maybe early fifties. Long white hair tied back in a loose, effortless ponytail, a few strands framing his face. A thick white beard, neatly trimmed but still rugged. And a thin, faded scar running along the side of his left eye, giving him a dangerous, lived-in edge. He looked like a man who had seen storms and walked out the other side. *Damn.* Even through the drunken fog, one thought cut through clearly.

"One captivating glance of My BEAST Is enough to melt my heart, body, and mind." MOHINI .. .. # 1) The BEAST and The BEAUTY **• Twenty-Five Years Later: -** 'At KASHYAP MANSION' A plump elderly woman in her mid-forties was reading a magazine as she heard soft footsteps approaching her. She closed the magazine, lifted her head, and saw him smiling brightly at her. His deep ocean-green eyes were intense, with sharp and pointed features. His golden-brown hair, pale white skin, long legs, and masculine personality made him appear like a prince charming from a girl's dreams.