Captain Beatty Physical Description Novels & Stories

He was sitting on my favorite couch in a black jean and black shirt—the only color I had ever seen him wear—, legs crossed, cigarette in one hand, and the other hand flexing a gun carefully. Baron was a tall and big man. He was not fat per se, but all those large muscles and heavy-looking chest made him look bigger than most guys—Lucas excluded. He had chestnut brown curly hair, and otherwise his mean and murderous personality, he was a very handsome man with black eyes and a very pointed nose.

She had anticipated encountering a figure resembling a stereotypical tough guy—rough, scarred, clad in baggy clothes, perhaps with a backward-worn baseball cap. However, what she saw defied her expectations. Before her sat a tall, drop-dead gorgeous individual with mesmerizing light green eyes. His features were striking, boasting a firm chin, broad shoulders, and toned abs. Clad in dark fitted jeans and an equally dark short-sleeve shirt that revealed a tattoo of a butterfly, he exuded an aura of attractiveness that was undeniable. Boma couldn't help but notice the dark slip-ons adorning his feet, each aspect of his attire contributing to an overall impression of darkness. His expression wa

Lying that bluntly into my face, while asking me to give him another chance! I shook my head and took deep breaths. It was that instant that I spotted Beaumont. He was leaning against the open gate, his arms and legs crossed. He smiled once he spotted me too. Beaumont's hair wasn't styled like usually to the side, but his curls were naturally standing perfectly in every direction, giving him a soft surfer vibe. It made him look less intimidating, softer, almost like a man who knew how to relax on a Sunday night. His strong build was accentuated by the tight jogging pants and the fitting jacket. Like always, he wore brand names and looked well put together.

"What if something has happened to him? We need to know." Bart was a middle-aged man with little white hair on his head and a well-groomed beard on his face. He had a rough and weathered appearance, with deep lines etched into his forehead and around his mouth. Despite his rough exterior, he had a mischievous twinkle in his eye that made him seem approachable.

I whispered through my teeth, squeezing his hand in my fist. "Chill babe, I've got this" he shushed me. We approached the counter, my eyes glared at the mid-aged bald man, accessing him. He was fair in complexion, approximately six feet tall with big belly protruding on the counter. He wore a grey moustache, matching his grey scanty hair at both sides of his head. He quickly picked up his black baseball cap on the counter and fixed it on his head, flaunting the little hair he had, out of the cap.

It squeezed her heart to see that that was the end of the innocent little girl. "How're you holding up, ma'am?" She looked up to see a robust-looking officer wearing his police uniform that looked like it could tear anytime with the pressure pressed against it with his protruding stomach. He was half bald with speckles of blond hair filling his hair and he had a pinkish complexion, a small nose, and little eyes hidden behind the tiny glasses. If she was to be cruel and decided to compare him to an animal, he looked exactly like a well-fed pig.

The kind of mean that wasn’t just in their faces—but in their posture. They sat sprawled around the cell like predators with nothing better to do than eat time—and whatever else wandered too close. The one at the center looked up as I stumbled in. Bald. Tattooed from scalp to throat. A long, jagged scar ran down his eye like a claw mark. His arms were the size of my thighs, roped with muscle and ink. He grinned. A slow, sick, toothy grin. The officer clapped a hand on my back and shoved me forward.

DAMON'S POV: I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my tie and straightening my suit. My features were sharp and defined, just like my reputation. At six foot three inches, I towered over most people, my lean muscular build a testament to the countless hours I spent in the gym. My neatly shaved beard framed my perfectly chiseled face, giving me an air of authority. But it was my strikingly bold grey eyes that seemed to capture anyone's attention, drawing them in like a moth to a flame.

"Ma'am, please, let us talk outside. I understand your frustration, but creating a scene here won't help us resolve the situation." The young officer stood tall with a commanding presence, exuding an air of confidence and calmness that belied his age. He had a strong, athletic build, a testament to his dedication to physical fitness and the rigorous training he had undergone. His chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes spoke of determination and unwavering focus. His closely cropped hair, a shade of dark brown, was neatly groomed, adding to his professional appearance. His clean-shaven face revealed a strong jawline, highlighting his features with a touch of ruggedness. As he spoke, his voic

She shook her head. Lindsay relaxed her head against the back of the tub. Closing her eyes, she pictured only one person. The captain. A tall, strong man he was, and so handsome. He had the greenest eyes imaginable, even when angered. His long brown hair had been pulled away from his face and tied with a leather strap, showing the muscles in his neck. He wore a white shirt with billowy sleeves, yet snug enough to emphasize his broad chest. She grinned. It’d be nice to run into him again.